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Chapter Text

The world spun 360 degrees around Sonic the Hedgehog—or rather, he was the one spinning in a dizzying freefall. After kicking off a ramp on his extreme gear, he dazzled onlookers with a series of quick flips and air tricks on his way to steal the lead with a flourish. It might have been his first grand prix—technically second since egghead's was kind of a scam and not formally recognized as one of the international ExGearGP races—but the fastest thing alive had easily won over the hearts of millions as the fan favorite, owed entirely to his reputation and knack for showboating. He flipped upside down as he glided towards the lower level of the track, chasing after the lead racer—the leader of the Babylon Rogues.

"Sonic is building momentum!" the announcer's voice echoed throughout the race track, keeping viewers informed even when the racers were well out of sight. "He makes a perfect landing and takes advantage of his speed!"

The track narrowed into a long, cement tunnel; the industrial lights they sped past flashing with an almost-cautionary yellow glow. But if anyone was being warned of their impending defeat, it was the Babylon Rogues. The tunnel quickly closed them off from the rest of the world; claustrophobic with its lack of natural light and low ceiling. But just on the other side, the finish line was waiting to crown the winners of the Spagonia Grand Prix.

Sonic breezed past Jet, coasting along his slipstream right into first place. Cutting him off from his lead, he chanced a glance back at his newest rival just so his smirk would be the last thing he saw before Sonic's tail crossed the finish line. He almost laughed out loud at Jet's visible frustration; his beak clenched hard enough that Sonic wouldn't be surprised if it cracked under the strain—probably just as brittle as his ego. Just over Jet's shoulder, he spied Storm and Wave staggered behind him, providing close coverage as they followed them through the tunnel. But sneaking along the curve, completely undetected and underestimated, Tails was quickly closing the gap. Steadily creeping up on the inside corner to snipe second place right out from under Jet's beak.

Sonic's smirk sharpened. Oh ho ho, was this bird brain in for a real surprise. The Babylon Rogues would soon learn why they should never underestimate Tails. What he lacked in pure speed he made up for in technique, infinitely more precise and patient than Sonic as he glided along Jet's slipstream.

Meanwhile, Knuckles was in a strong position on the outside, powering through the headwind and taking his turns wide in an attempt to overtake Storm and Wave with brute force. Aw yeah. Team Sonic had all but won this grand prix. Sonic swiveled forward, eyes on the finish line. Crouching low, he leaned forward to give the Blue Star II another boost and double his lead.

So he missed the way Jet's hawkeye caught sight of Tails trying to slip past him. Shooting Storm a pointed look, Jet jerked his head towards the kid and immediately swerved in front of him. Tails veered back, slowing down to avoid a collision and adjust his trajectory, but before he could find clearance around Jet, Storm came up on his left side, blocking him from building momentum and gaining new ground. Knuckles rushed past Storm, quickly claiming the second place spot while Jet let him, focused on staying directly in Tails's way.

His heart pounded in a discordant rhythm, adrenaline no longer fueled by the thrill of a good race, but the uneasy feeling of being caged in. Trapped. Storm edged closer, his powerful extreme gear threatening to graze the side of Tails's much smaller board. Tails recognized the feeling of being cornered and felt the cruelty in its intention. They were taunting him, scaring him on purpose. Mouth pursed in an annoyed frown and tails thrashing behind him, the fox kit bowed out of whatever messed up game of chicken these birds wanted to bully him into. Tails refused to play and started to decelerate.

Except he forgot that he hadn't seen Wave pass them yet.

His gear jolted as the tail smacked against the nose of Wave's board, positioned directly behind him. "Woah!" Tails wobbled to try and regain his balance, heart lodged solidly in his throat as he realized he was truly trapped on all sides now.

There was nowhere to go. The fur of his arms nearly brushed up along the edge of the tunnel. At these speeds, he'd feel the sting from the road rash he'd surely get from scraping against the concrete walls for weeks. Tails bit down on the inside of his cheek, lowering his center of gravity to stay steady and calm as the Babylon Rogues followed him along the track's curve.

His eyes darted further up the track; Sonic and Knuckles too far ahead to notice what was happening. Their focus singularly fixated on the finish line. Well, that was good. At least Sonic would win the grand prix. That was what mattered. He'd show Jet and the world that it didn't matter if it was running or on an extreme gear; he'd always be the fastest.

But as he watched the Blue Star II's trail grow farther and farther away, Tails wavered between the swell of relief and the childish wish that Sonic would look back. Just one glance back…

Tails got one, but it wasn't from who he wanted. His gaze flickered as Jet glanced back at him, a mean sort of glee glinting in his eyes. Tails swallowed thickly, and swallowed the weak part of himself along with the fear. He challenged Jet with his own stubborn glare. I won't back down. You don't scare me.

Jet smirked, then suddenly shot forward with a great burst of speed. He'd been conserving his air, saving it all for a final push for the finish line at the end. Tails gasped as the wind from Jet's kick dash knocked him back a bit. He recovered quickly, leaning forward to try and ride his slipstream away from the other two Rogues, but he couldn't accelerate to his own top speed fast enough.

Not before Storm's board slammed into his. Tails crashed into the wall. The crack of his shoulder against the concrete was lost in the rushing winds, but his pained outcry still echoed through the tunnel.

Sonic's ears swiveled back and he kicked up his board to slow down, twisting around sharply. His eyes swept the length of the tunnel in less than a split second, heart lurching as he watched Tails lose his balance and topple backwards. Clinging tightly to his gear as it spun out of control, Tails tumbled head over tails down the tunnel, skidding across the track. Without any hesitation, Sonic pushed the Blue Star II's turn radius to its absolute limit and whirled about in a complete 180.

He shot back down the tunnel, using up the rest of his air to cut the distance between him and Tails. His board sparked as it scraped against the asphalt. Sonic ignored it as he drove a straight line right through the Babylon Rogues, Jet's eyes sweeping over him as they crossed paths.

But Sonic didn't spare him a second glance.

The dingy, yellowed lights rushed by in a blur as he sped up, closing in on his brother like a bullet. Eyes narrowed, Sonic's gaze zeroed in on the white of Tails's glove flashing in the dimly lit tunnel. As soon as he was within reach, he lunged forward.

He caught Tails's hand in his own, fingers clasped around his baby brother's in a bruising grip, refusing to let him slip even a centimeter. At the same time, his hips swiveled to shift his gear's direction backwards, to propel them both towards the finish line instead of careening into oncoming racers. Tails's arm was wrenched forward as his body jerked to the side, steadied too suddenly by Sonic's grasp and the way their trajectory suddenly shifted.

Though his eyes had been clenched shut, brow pinched with pain, as soon as the familiar touch registered they snapped open. Tails gazed up at his big brother, his hero, a relieved smile brightening his face with starry-eyed trust. You're here.

Sonic met his smile with one of his own; a little soft, but so sure of the simple fact that he always would be. Sonic tightened his hold on him. I've got ya.

Tails clutched at Sonic's glove, nodding when he felt a second, inquisitive squeeze around his fingers. I'm good, Tails squeezed back, I'm not giving up.

Beaming with pride, Sonic shot him a thumbs up that filled Tails's chest with a wave of pure warmth.

In that moment, it didn't matter that his shoulder felt like it was on fire or that his entire right side burned from where he'd scraped against the wall or that his extreme gear was dented from where Storm smashed into it. As long as Sonic could still look at him like that—like he was proud of him—nothing else mattered. At least for that moment.

"Alley-oop!" Sonic grinned as he swung Tails up in the air—effortless, like he was a little kid again—and helped him readjust his board back under his feet.

But Sonic didn't let go of his hand right away. Still gliding backwards on his gear, attention entirely on his best buddy, he held on until Tails offered up his own thumbs up. A silent assurance that he'd be okay.

"Alright, Tails!" Sonic cheered, finally loosening his hold, then letting him go completely to stand on his own.

Flanking Tails's other side, in a way that left him space to move about freely while still watching out for him, Knuckles had also slowed down to check in on them. He seemed to share in Sonic's pride to see Tails rejoin the race, nodding in solemn approval. Tails sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the popping pain in his shoulder as he found his center of gravity.

"The race isn't over yet. Whaddya guys say we give it one last blast of Sonic speed?" Sonic glanced between them, adjusting his stance to face forward once again, but still kept pace with his friends. "Let's jam and juice!"

The air whooshed through their fur and quills as all three of them shot forward, pushing their extreme gear to their limits. The lights flashed past in a blur. The end of the tunnel came into sight, bright daylight yawning ahead of them as they closed in on the trails left behind in the three Babylonians' wake. Erasing the distance. Making up the difference.

They crossed the finish line together. Sonic came in fourth. Knuckles and Tails right on his heels in fifth and sixth, respectively.

As Sonic cut the air of his extreme gear, the white noise of the crowd rose to a cacophonous roar. The Babylon Rogues stood in the winner's circle, the Spagonia Grand Prix's top three racers for the third year in a row. In the center, Jet had his extreme gear tucked under one arm, while the other was outstretched towards the stands. Pointing out at them, his arm swept in a wide arc that culminated in finding the center of the camera feeding into the jumbo tron floating above the stands, Jet's eyes glinting with smug satisfaction on a massive scale.

More racers crossed the finish line after them, but their accomplishments were muted in the wake of Jet's victory.

The three of them glided over to an air pit terminal, refilling their gears' air tanks while the noise of the crowd echoed around them. People in the stands clamored to rush out and down to the open air concourse, fans and reporters alike wanting to be the first to congratulate the winners. Jet, Wave, and Storm's racing photos filled the screen of the jumbo tron, animated confetti raining down over their faces.

"What's the point of winning if there's no honor in it?" Knuckles muttered, picking up his refilled gear with a huff.

"For some guys, honor's not the point," Sonic answered with a shrug, tucking the Blue Star II under his arm as he turned away from the screen to face his friends. "All we can do is race the way we want to."

Knuckles nodded, though his disapproving glare remained fixed on the Rogues while Tails kept his gaze averted, angled down at the extreme gear at his feet. With the excitement over and the adrenaline fading, Sonic could finally take stock of the Yellow Tail's condition. There was a large dent on the side of it, the casing cracking and streaks of dark gray paint muddying the matte yellow.

Sonic frowned, planting one hand on his hip as he tilted his head, trying to catch Tails's eye. "Hey, it's okay. I know you'll be able to fix it up and have it looking like new in no time."

"Yeah, I know," Tails said quietly, almost drowned out by the white noise of the crowd and the announcer's bleating voice over the loudspeakers.

Sonic allowed him two seconds of silence before launching headfirst into, "So what happened back there? I didn't really see until it was too late, but last I checked, you were looking pretty good."

Tails shook his head, his ears pinned back as he continued to keep his gaze downturned. "It was stupid. I let myself get boxed in. I should've calculated that risk and the fact that I didn't have the power to push through."

Sonic arched his brow. "'Let yourself?' Sounds a whole lot like you're taking responsibility for other people's choices there, bud."

Tails's cheeks puffed out, mouth pursed in a firm little line that wasn't quite a pout, but clear that he still had his doubts on the matter. "Well, I am responsible for making myself an easy target."

"Tails…" Sonic sighed, his suspicions that he'd been intentionally knocked off his gear all but confirmed.

"You're far from an easy target, kid," Knuckles interjected. "Just because you're small and young doesn't mean you can't hold your own in a fight or a race."

"Exactly." Sonic snapped his fingers, then pointed at Tails. "If the Rogues targeted you, it's because they thought you were a genuine threat."

"They didn't go after either of you," Tails argued, and though he finally looked up to bat Sonic's hand away, his unconvinced glare was aimed at their extreme gears. "They chose me because I was in a position that made it easy for them to corner me. I'm not as fast or powerful as either of you, so yeah, I'd say that makes me the easiest one to take out."

"Hey, the only reason the two of us didn't try a stunt like that was because I was already in the lead and because Knuckles knew he didn't stand a chance of placing higher than third." Sonic jabbed his thumb in the aforementioned's direction.

"Hey," Knuckles growled, his grip on the Red Rock tightening.

"If I'd been anywhere but first place, do you really think I wouldn't have tried some wild stunt that had the potential to knock me flat on my face?" Sonic flashed him a grin, hoping the mental image would cheer the kid up some. "No risk, no reward, right? You were racing to win, little bro. Nothing stupid about that—"

Sonic reached out for his shoulder, only for Tails to not-so-subtly angle it away from him. He was holding his arm gingerly, the one he'd hit against the side of the tunnel. The one Sonic had grabbed to pull him to safety. He raised a speculative brow. What he'd initially assumed was just his little buddy's usual, self-conscious stance flipped on its head as he gave him a fully attentive onceover. Through his fur, he caught a glimpse of reddened, raw skin barely hidden by Tails's glove.

A deep sigh escaped him as Sonic flicked his eyes up to Tails's face, but the kid was still stubbornly avoiding him.

"Hey, how's the arm, buddy?" he asked, voice a bit softer.

"It's fine," Tails mumbled.

Sonic pivoted, this time laying a hand on his good shoulder, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Sure. C'mon, keed. Let's get ya over to first aid."

"I said it's fine, Sonic—"

"Sonic! Sonic the Hedgehog!"

They'd taken too long. A swarm of reporters descended on them, brandishing microphones and flashing cameras in an attempt to stun the three of them into stopping for an interview. Sonic bit down the urge to blast through the barricade of them with his speed; knocking down a bunch of innocent people just trying to do their jobs wasn't exactly the note he wanted to go out on. Even if they were annoying.

The more his name circled the world, the more he was learning that sometimes the fastest way out was just straight through. Give 'em what they want, then go.

"As the self-proclaimed 'fastest thing alive,' how does it feel to come in fourth place in the Spagonia Grand Prix?" a human reporter asked as he forced his way to the front of the pack.

"Hey, it might be self-proclaimed, but it's also without question," Sonic argued, flashing a grin at the camera. "And while I can't say the view from fourth's the best, at least I ran a race I can be proud of."

"Are you saying you have no regrets about giving up first place in the final stretch?" a tapir followed up, rising on her tip-toes to be seen as more people crowded around her.

"Nope," Sonic said simply, popping the "p" on purpose.

"What about for all the fans who were rooting for you?" The first guy wrangled the attention back on him. "An unprecedented amount of people bet on you to come out in the top three. No one predicted you would get fourth place."

"Well, that's on them. I didn't tell 'em to bet on me." Sonic shrugged.

"But you did encourage it. Leading up to this race, you assured people that nothing and no one was faster than you and that you'd be the one crossing the finish line first."

"I don't see how stating facts is encouraging anyone to do anything," Sonic replied, crossing his arms. "It's not like I went into this race thinking I'd lose. Who does that? Everyone here is here to win. Or at least race their very best. If people decided to bet their life savings on something like that, like I said, that's on them."

"Would you say you raced your best?" A peacock reporter asked.

Sonic's mouth pursed in a firm line, twisting to one side of his muzzle as his gaze narrowed. "Already said I have no regrets. Don't think there's anything else to say. So if you'll excuse us, we've gotta get to—"

Sonic cut himself off as he reached back for Tails and found empty air. He swiveled around, realizing the sea of reporters had washed in and filled in the gaps between him and his friends, effectively cutting him off from his little buddy. Several of them had cornered the fox kit, microphones nearly bumping his nose and camera lenses boring into him with their empty stares. They were closing in on him, to the point that he'd had to scramble to pick up his extreme gear to keep it from getting stepped on.

"How do you feel knowing you cost Sonic the Hedgehog the winning title of the Spagonia Grand Prix?"

Tails flinched. "Well, I…"

"Do you think the issue was with your extreme gear or your skill level? Ahead of this race you'd said that you redesigned your own and your friends' gear for the race. Was that a contributing factor to your collective losses?"

Tails hugged his board closer to his chest as he attempted to keep it from bumping into anyone. "I don't think—"

"People are already saying you're responsible for one of the biggest upsets ExGearGP racing has seen. What do you have to say about that?"

"What…?" Tails's voice was lost to the overlapping questions hitting him from all sides.

Pupils turned to pinpricks as his breath quickened and his shoulders hunched, a pained grimace rippling across his face when it pulled at his injury. He tried to back away, but quickly realized there was nowhere to go. Reporters, cameras, and mics surrounded him on all sides, pushing in on him. Just like in the tunnel, he was trapped with no escape.

"Hey!"

And just like in the tunnel, Sonic had to come and save him.

Forcing his way through the crowd, Sonic cleared a path to Tails's side, with Knuckles barrelling through to flank him on the other. "Shut up," Sonic pointed directly at the closest microphone, then pointedly tapped it with the tip of his finger before pushing it away. "And back off."

"Before we make you," Knuckles added, aiming his fist at a camera.

"Knuckles, stop," Tails finally interjected, eyes darting between his two teammates. "Sonic—"

"What? They need to get their facts straight before they barge over here asking questions. And they don't gotta get all up in your face to do it," Sonic said, the curve of his muzzle quite the opposite of friendly as he stared one reporter down until they backed up a good several inches. "If they can manage that, I might even be so generous to give all of 'em a free sound bite. Yo, listen up! Whatever happened out there on the track was not Tails's fault."

"But—"

"You really need me to repeat myself?" Sonic asked, foot tapping insistently as he dared the reporter to argue with him.

"Isn't it fair to assume if he had kept his balance on his gear and hadn't fallen off, that you would have gone on to win the race?" someone else asked, their question said in such a rush that Sonic would've found it impressive if he wasn't so annoyed by it.

"Doesn't matter. That's not what happened."

"It does if it's what cost you the race—"

"Look, I mean it, you guys gotta get your priorities in check." Sonic rolled his eyes, draping an arm around Tails's shoulder. "I get it. This was a big race, I talked a big game, and then I blew my shot at it. But nothing and no one made me. I made that choice on my own. 'Cause it doesn't matter how big the race is. No race will ever be a bigger priority than my best buddy here, or any of my friends for that matter. That's your story. S'got nothing to do with anything Tails did or didn't do. He ran a good race and I'm proud of him and his tech. Now if ya don't mind, we've got places to be, so go bug someone else. The winner's right over there. He was willing to do whatever it took to take first place, so you got a problem with the results today, go talk his ear off. C'mon, Tails."

Keeping his hand on his shoulder, Sonic steered him through the crowd, Knuckles on their heels to block anyone from trying to chase after them. Luckily the reporters backed down easily, whether it was because they finally realized they were practically bullying an embarrassed kid or because they actually took Sonic's words to heart, it didn't really matter. All that mattered was making their way to the tent with the red cross marked on it.

As they left the chatter behind, Sonic leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Don't listen to 'em, bud. None of this was on you."

Though he kept his head downturned, ears still as flat as airplane wings, Tails managed a small nod. Sonic kneaded his fingers into Tails's shoulder, slowly scritching over to the back of his neck until they reached the tent.

"Want me to come in with ya?" Sonic offered, but Tails shook his head.

"I can handle it."

Sonic's mouth quirked up, equal parts proud and amused by his stubborn, steadfast little bro. He let his hand fall away, only to silently offer to hold onto Tails's gear for him. The Yellow Tail was passed over without argument, pressed to the underside of the Blue Star II. Sonic propped them both up against the ground, noses pointing towards the sky.

"Alright. Go get patched up. We'll wait right out here for ya." Sonic nudged him along, waiting until the tips of his tails disappeared into the tent, then sagged against the two boards with a sigh. "How much you wanna bet he doesn't believe me?" he asked Knuckles.

"Your entire life savings." It was said with a playful jab to his shoulder. "He'll come around. He's a smart kid, plus you're annoyingly persistent when you want to be."

Sonic hummed, leaning more of his weight against the boards as his gaze drifted back towards the commotion in the winner's circle. On the floating jumbo tron, footage of the race was being replayed while commentators reviewed what happened in those final moments. A mix of stationary cameras and drones captured what they could of the high speed racers, catching glimpses of them as they rushed by. Sonic's eyes glazed over as he watched himself take the lead going into the tunnel. The gap between him and Jet widened, then Tails tried to sneak past on the inside corner…

Sonic watched helplessly as Jet and Storm closed in on Tails, with Wave slipping in directly behind him. No way out. Though it might've been a trick of the light—the cameras in the tunnel couldn't have been that clear, this wasn't high definition footage or anything—Sonic swore he could see the flash of fear in Tails's eyes. The pure panic of being cut off from his friends and cornered.

Sonic's grip on their extreme gear tightened as Storm slammed into Tails. He could almost hear the way his body crashed into the side of the tunnel, watching helplessly as Tails fell off his gear and back onto the track. Then the camera zoomed in on himself, catching his reaction in slow motion as he heard Tails cry out. Sonic's frown deepened as it played over and over in front of thousands; his decision being picked apart by analysts when it hadn't even been a decision at all. It was just instinct.

Of course he was going to go back for Tails.

The footage eventually switched to replaying the moment Jet crossed the finish line, with Wave and Storm right behind him. Sonic tore his gaze away from the grainy footage, observing the crowds on the ground instead. Other racers were still being interviewed, with most people gathered around the Babylon Rogues. The first place medal dangled from Jet's grasp as he showed it off for a photo op, striking another victory pose with his squad each brandishing their second and third place medals.

Knuckles followed his gaze, sharing his frown as he observed them alongside him. "I still don't think they deserve the honor of victory."

"Nah," Sonic agreed with a tired sigh. "Too bad. Thought things'd be different after that whole thing with Eggman."

"This is why I don't trust thieves," Knuckles huffed. "Their word means nothing when all they do is twist it to get what they want."

"That why Eggman and Rouge keep duping ya? 'Cuz you don't trust thieves?" Sonic couldn't resist teasing, though his crooked smile lacked its usual spark.

Knuckles shot a half-hearted glare his way, the heat not in it either. "You doing okay?"

"Mm. Just wanna get back to the hotel. Or get the heck out of here entirely. Go for a run as far away as possible and not talk to anyone for at least a week," Sonic chuckled weakly, then tilted his head, focus more on Knuckles now instead of their competition. "You get it, don'tcha?"

With a grunt of agreement, Knuckles turned his eyes toward the hazy sky. "I want to be on my island as soon as possible."

Sonic laughed, clapping his hand on Knuckles's shoulder. "We'll get ya back to your emerald in a Sonic second, pal. I'll even fly ya up myself if Tails isn't clear to."

"While I would prefer him as a pilot, you might have dislocated his shoulder when you grabbed him," Knuckles pointed out, eyeing the jumbo tron as it replayed the moment where Sonic caught Tails by the wrist mid-tumble.

Sonic winced. "Yeah. Wasn't much time to be gentle about it. Don't like hurting him if I can help it, but..."

"He probably would've been hurt worse if you hadn't gone back for him," Knuckles added. "You made the right call."

"Mmhm." Sonic traced the indent in Tails's board, imagining the way the force must've felt on impact, with nowhere for Tails to go, nothing to do except to just take the blow…

"Mr. Hawk! Mr. Hawk, can Air Gear World get a statement before you head out!"

Sonic and Knuckles perked up, attention drawn to the crowd trailing after the Babylon Rogues, Jet leading them all right past the first aid tent. From the smug grin still plastered to his beak, Sonic had the sense that he was taking this particular path off the track on purpose.

"Sure," Jet answered smoothly. "Anything for my fans. Their support has meant so much to me, after all."

Sonic's ear twitched and his tail flicked in annoyance, eyes going half-lidded as he brushed off the poorly masked jab. "Suck up," he muttered under his breath.

"We all know how prepared you like to be going into any race," Sonic recognized the peacock mobian as one of the reporters that pestered him earlier as he flocked to Jet's side, "were there any surprises for you in the Spagonia Grand Prix this year? Anything that defied your expectations?"

"Honestly, this is the outcome I expected from a bunch of amateurs," Jet answered matter-of-factly. "I never go into a race thinking I'll get anything less than first place. What's the point in that?"

"Isn't that what you said?" Knuckles asked quietly.

"I said it way cooler, but yeah. More or less," Sonic snorted.

"Was the long-awaited rematch with Sonic the Hedgehog the kind of competition you'd been hoping to face against this season? Would you say he lived up to the hype?"

"Not at all!" Jet squawked. "The guy's all talk with nothing to show for it. He's out here complaining about people not having their priorities straight. Well, he must've missed the memo, 'cuz out here on the track, our priority is the biggest race of the ExGearGP! The Spagonia Grand Prix! If this race isn't your top priority, then you've got no right to be here."

"Wow," Sonic drawled, sending Knuckles a sideways smirk. "He come up with that one himself?" Cupping his hand around his muzzle, he called out, "Actually racing would help with that, y'know! Instead of bullying kids off their boards, but hey, what do I know? I'm just an amateur."

"No one asked the peanut gallery!" Jet shouted at him, to which Sonic simply held up his middle finger, one eye closed as he stuck out his tongue.

A small, matronly gopher reporter ducked past the peacock's feathers to sneak her question in. "Actually, that raises the question some people have started discussing in the wake of the big upset. While knocking into other racer's extreme gear to slow them down or send them off course is a common strategy and not prohibited by the league, some are saying that it was unfair of you to target the youngest racer in the history of the grand prix. What is your response to that? Especially having held that same title previously yourself."

"I didn't target him. My one and only target was Sonic the Hedgehog." Jet placed his hand against his chest. "Kid was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. If he was a more experienced racer, he would've known trying to ride my slipstream up the curve of the tunnel like that wouldn't work out for him. Even the most experienced racers need precise turning, handling, and acceleration to pull off a move like that on air gear. He miscalculated and collided with Storm, who was also using my slipstream for an added boost."

Sonic's eyes flashed; the Blue Star II and Yellow Tail clattering against the ground as he strode forward. "Miscalculated my ass!"

"Sonic—" Knuckles stooped down to pick up the gear, tucking them under his arm as he pursued him, but the confrontation was already in full swing.

"You slowed down on purpose," Sonic accused Jet. "You were right on my tail one second and then you weren't."

Jet rolled his eyes. "I was conserving air to build up and boost past you in the final stretch. Any experienced extreme gear racer would know that."

"Right. And forming a neat little triangle around my best bud to box him in was a complete accident. Uh-huh."

"Mr. Hedgehog, I'm sorry, but we're in the middle of an interview—" the peacock reporter attempted to cut in, but Jet stepped forward to match Sonic's energy with a cocky grin.

"Maybe not a complete accident, but when an opportunity presents itself to put someone in their place, sometimes you just gotta let it play out. Like I said, kid was in the wrong place and found out just what happens when you try to play in the big leagues." Jet shrugged, then flashed Sonic a sharp grin. "You and I both know he didn't belong out there. That's why you freaked out and went back for him. You knew he couldn't handle it. Plus, the fact that you're getting all worked up over him getting knocked off his gear just proves it. We did the racing world a favor and showed everyone that special treatment thanks to Sonic the Hedgehog won't get you far."

Sonic's gaze narrowed, taking in the way Jet angled himself a step back, the way his grip on his board shifted, almost protectively. Doubling down on the why, while simultaneously acting like it was no big deal, contradicting himself openly. With a snort, Sonic folded his arms across his chest and met Jet's smirk with one of his own.

"Nah, you took him out because he was a threat to you," he told him point blank and watched his feathers ruffle. "If you seriously thought he was just some little kid that didn't belong out there, you would've ignored him. You're seasoned racers, you know competition when you see 'em. And you've seen the way he races. The way he fights." Sonic's fangs glinted as he showed them off in his grin. "Face it. You knew there was a pretty good chance he'd place higher than all of you and you couldn't stand that. Because not only would he be taking the title of youngest pro extreme gear racer from you, but he'd take the win, too. Two new world records in one day."

"Shut up! The pipsqueak didn't stand a chance!" Jet snapped. "This race was between you and me, he had nothing to do with it!"

"Keep telling yourself that." Sonic gave him a pat on the shoulder. "But if you really wanted to race with me, you would've just focused on the speed and faced me at your best. You lost sight of your target, Jet, and now we'll never know who the fastest really is."

"It's me! I won! I'm the fastest thing in the universe!" Jet brandished the gold medal around his neck. "I'm going to the Republic of Meridian Cup next month! I'll be the first place champion on the world stage while you're watching at home on your couch crying into a bowl of ice cream, saying, 'that could've been me!'"

Sonic whistled lowly. "You sure have some strange fantasies, Jet."

Jet's beak clicked as he growled, "And you're a sore loser, Sonic the Hedgehog!"

"Well, at least I'm not a slow-mo who can only win by knocking people off their boards instead of showing 'em what true speed is." Sonic flashed him a thumbs up and wink. "Good luck at the ROM Cup, pal. Maybe there'll be more child prodigies you can bully for being better than you."

"I will show you! I'll break a new world record for top speed and then we'll see who's laughing, Sonic the Hedgehog!"

"Thought you wanted me to cry into my ice cream?" Sonic scratched at his cheek thoughtfully. "Which, I mean, I can't be too upset if I've got a bowl of ice cream to myself and a comfy couch to chill out on, so maybe I am laughing in this scenario."

"Crying, laughing, it doesn't matter! You're gonna regret not racing with me!"

"I think you're the one who missed the memo, Jet. I already said I've got no regrets. C'mon, Knux." Sonic jerked his head towards the first aid tent, taking the Blue Star II back from him as they started to walk away.

"Mr. Hedgehog, wait a moment!" His ear flicked back and he turned around to see the gopher reporter who'd been trying to interview Jet tail him instead. "Would you be willing to answer a few follow-up questions—"

"I already said my piece. You can get the notes from that guy over there," he told her, waving in the general direction of the peacock reporter still hovering around a fuming Jet.

"No, I understand that. I just wanted to clarify something you said just now. Miles Prower is a child prodigy, yes?"

"Sure is. He's the youngest racer in the Spagonia Grand Prix and custom built our gear himself." Sonic gave the Blue Star II a proud pat. "Plus, he's just the coolest kid around in general."

"And you believe that his young age made him a target by your competitors?"

"Eh, I think people get weird whenever a kid is better than them at stuff. Bruises the ego." Sonic rubbed under his nose as he grinned shamelessly. "At least the fragile ones. But no, in this case, I think it's just 'cuz he's that good."

"So before the accident, did you genuinely believe he stood a chance at winning?"

"Well, he wouldn't have been here if he didn't. He placed high enough in all his qualifying races to compete. He had just as much a chance of winning as any of us. Plus he's been keeping up with me since he was four. If there's anyone out there who's got the experience and know-how to beat me, I'd say it's him! Soon enough, there'll be no stopping that kid."

"Sonic," Knuckles called out to him and he turned to find Tails standing just outside the first aid tent.

His arm was in a sling and his bicep was bandaged, likely to keep the road rash from getting infected. Though he shuffled his feet self-consciously, both tails still laying low instead of swishing contentedly in the air, Tails finally met Sonic's eye for the first time since they crossed the finish line. He offered up a little wave with his good hand and Sonic felt a weight lift from his chest.

"Speaking of, that's all I can give ya, lady. Gotta speed." Sonic gave a two-fingered salute before dashing over to Tails's side, ruffling the fur atop his head before the kid could fully process he was standing in front of him. "Heya, buddy! Everything accounted for? No internal bleeding? Both kidneys intact? Amputation off the table?" he teased.

Tails rolled his eyes, but the small smile he couldn't quite hide was a win in Sonic's book. "Shoulder subluxation and road rash. The medical staff gave me a local anesthetic, so it doesn't really hurt right now, though they said we might want to stock up on some pain killers and ice for later. The sling's for immobilization so it can heal properly. They also recommended I get checked out by my primary care physician just to be on the safe side and gave me some exercises to do, but I should make a full recovery in a couple weeks."

"Alright, I'll take your word for it." Sonic shot him a thumbs up. "Now, I don't know about you guys, but I'm beyond ready to blow this popsicle stand."

"Me too," Tails agreed.

"Then what are we standing around for? Let's get out of here." Knuckles nodded, still holding both his and Tails's gear as he turned and marched towards the exit of the concourse.

Tails started to follow after him, but Sonic's eyes lit up as an idea sparked to life. He tossed his board down and hopped atop it. Whistling two short notes, he grinned as Tails's ears twitched just before he looked back over his shoulder curiously.

The Blue Star II lifted into the air with a whoosh, wind rushing through his quills as Sonic zoomed straight ahead. He caught Tails on the way, swinging him up onto his board as the kid let out a startled yelp. Bobbing in the air for a second, Sonic shifted his center of gravity to balance out having two people on his board. Tails wobbled for a second, his good hand clutching Sonic's arm as it banded across his chest, like a stand-in for a safety restraint. He leaned his weight into Sonic, using their points of contact to figure out how to move in sync with him while they zipped past Knuckles.

"Yo, Knux!" Sonic hollered back. "Winner picks dinner!"

"What? Sonic!" Biting back a growl, Knuckles tossed the Red Rock down and leapt aboard it, keeping hold of the Yellow Tail under one arm as he raced after Sonic.

Pedestrians gasped and ducked out of the way as Team Sonic rushed past them in a whirlwind. Sonic expertly weaved in and out of traffic, his hold on Tails secure as they instinctively moved together to maintain their balance. Sonic whooped and hollered, doing tricks through the city center, encouraging Tails to laugh and cheer alongside him. When Knuckles gained momentum and tried to pass them, Sonic ramped up and soared forward, reveling in the impromptu race.

Sonic and Tails reached the hotel first, the former shamelessly celebrating his win as Knuckles coasted up beside them. "Stop breakdancing in the lobby, you look like an idiot," he grumbled.

"I look like a winner," Sonic countered.

They had the room for one more night, just in case any of them would've placed high enough for the podium ceremony following the race. Even though they hadn't, they collectively decided to stay, rest up, and fly back in the morning. After dropping off their gear in their room and filling the ice bucket to make a little pack for Tails's shoulder, the three of them settled in for the evening.

Knuckles decided to take a shower to decompress, while Sonic flopped belly first on one of the beds and started flipping through the channels on the hotel TV. Tails set up shop on the second bed, attempting to move the Blue Star II over to it one-handed, but he struggled to gain enough leverage to flip it. Out of the corner of his eye, Sonic saw it start to fall, dashing over to catch it before it smacked Tails in the face. Together they maneuvered it onto the mattress, the bottom of the extreme gear facing the ceiling.

Sonic's eyes widened, letting out a low whistle as he took in the damage he hadn't even realized was there. The blue and yellow paint was missing in chunks from where the bottom of the board scraped against the asphalt. Black charred marks were burned into the casing when he made the thing spark; thin spiderweb cracks spreading all along the base.

"Footage of the race was playing in the first aid tent," Tails explained without prompting, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. "I saw when you turned around to go back for me and figured there was probably some damage."

Sonic rubbed the back of his quills. "Sorry 'bout that, bud. I probably didn't have to take the turn that hard."

"The Blue Star II's turning radius is tight by design to account for your fast reaction times, but you definitely went above and beyond its limits this time around." Tails brushed his fingertips against the scarring on the board. "Honestly, it was pretty impressive."

Sonic snorted. "Wasn't exactly going for impressive, but I'll take it."

He gently ruffled Tails's fur, brushing over his forehead with his thumb, before his hand slipped away on its own. Sonic stretched his arms over his head as he shuffled back to the other bed. Tails craned his neck to watch him sit down on the edge of it, quietly observing the way his eyes glued themselves to the screen again. The channels flicked past so fast, he couldn't imagine any of them were really registering.

"Also, while I was getting patched up," Tails piped up, "I realized I never actually said thank you. For coming back for me."

Sonic waved it off. "C'mon, keed, you know you don't gotta thank me for something like that."

"I know. But I want to. I didn't really act all that grateful after the race…"

"I get it. Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're okay."

Eventually footage of the grand prix flashed by. It stuck around for just half a second longer than the other channels when Sonic's thumb slipped slightly, but he recovered in a blink and the cycling of channels began to repeat. Tails padded across the space between the two beds, clambering up to sit beside Sonic. He shifted a bit to give him more room, but Tails leaned against his arm, pressing close when Sonic's thumb stilled and the TV stayed on a cooking channel.

"I'm sorry you lost the race."

Sonic closed his eyes as the softness of a familiar fox tail wound around his waist, curving behind him until it looped into his lap. "There'll be other races, kiddo."

"Yeah, but…" Tails smushed his cheek into his shoulder, "you really wanted to win."

An aborted chuckle rumbled in Sonic's chest. "Yeah…" His arm came up to band around Tails, accepting the offered comfort and giving back as much as his little bro was willing to let him. "Ah, well. Maybe next year."

Setting aside the remote, Sonic left the cooking show on and scooted back against the pile of pillows, taking Tails with him. He sprawled out on the bedspread, one hand tucked behind his quills. The other pet along Tails's side as he snuggled up in the crook of his arm as best as he could with the sling. Two fox tails curled up and draped over his stomach, the display of trust warmer than the fluffy appendages could ever be on their own. As long as Sonic could continue to be worthy of that kind of trust, it didn't matter if he never won another race. His ego could take a good beating; it wasn't so fragile a thing.

Nestling his cheek atop Tails's head, Sonic turned his half-lidded gaze back to the TV, too comfortable and too resigned to his temporary status as Tails's pillow to bother tracking down the remote.

Knuckles found them like that when he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, both fast asleep. He couldn't even chastise either of them for putting Sonic's extreme gear on his bed.

Shaking his head with a grunt that belied his begrudging fondness, he joined them on theirs to watch whatever was on the television until their grumbling stomachs woke them. Winner picked dinner, after all, and Sonic wasn't about to miss out on that. Room service might not have been the dinner of champions, but camping out on a big bed with bowls of half-melted mint ice cream and laughing with friends while cheesy sci-fi movies played in the background wasn't the worst way to spend an evening.

Nah. Not by a long shot.

Chapter Text

It's no secret that the spectacle at the Spagonia Grand Prix left its mark on the ExGearGP racing circuit in more ways than one. While the celebration of Jet the Hawk's third consecutive victory further cements a future position for him in the Extreme Gear Hall of Fame, this was, most notably, not the headline most journalists ran with, myself included.

The big takeaway from the Spagonia Grand Prix was the shocking loss of fan favorite, Sonic the Hedgehog. According to Air Gear World, a record breaking number of fans came out last month to bet on what they thought would be a surefire medalist in his ExGearGP debut, and broke a second record in the amount of money they lost. This has been the news circulating in every major motorsports headline, overshadowing even the outcomes of the Republic of Meridian Cup and the U.F. 500. If the loss had been a natural one—with Sonic the Hedgehog simply unable to contend with seasoned racers—perhaps people would be more understanding, but it's the reason behind his loss that has rankled the ExGearGP community's ire. While the outrage racing fans have felt over the past few weeks has been understandable, I can't help but take notice that everyone seems to be pointing fingers in all the wrong places.

If you ask anyone, even casual racing fans, who they think is at fault, they will point at one of three suspects. Sonic the Hedgehog himself, the top three finalists: the Babylon Rogues, or first-time racer and record-holder of the youngest participant in an ExGearGP race, Miles "Tails" Prower. Yes, you read that right. At just seven years old, Miles Prower has overtaken the previous record of ten years old, which was initially held by first place medalist, Jet the Hawk. 

While such a feat is commendable at such a young age, with the backlash that has been directed at him, one can't help but wonder, should it even be attainable?

The ExGearGP has never enforced age limits in any of their races. Eligible racers must either have placed high enough in the racing season to secure them a spot in the next year's races or win enough qualifying races to earn the chance to compete in the graded races. Until Jet the Hawk's debut four years ago, no racer under the age of thirteen had ever won enough qualifying races to be eligible to compete. Given Jet's legacy, as his father is world-renowned racer, Gyro the Hawk, his acceptance into the upper echelons of extreme gear racing went without question at the time of his debut.

However, Tails Prower has no connections to extreme gear and no family history to speak of, as much of his background is unknown. According to public record, he is the foundling ward of Sonic the Hedgehog, who is still a teenager himself, with no adult figures to oversee his well-being. While he may be a child prodigy, as confirmed by Sonic when I spoke with him, is it truly in his best interest to allow him to compete in such high-stakes races?

"Whatever happened out there on the track was not Tails's fault," Sonic the Hedgehog told news outlets immediately after the Spagonia Grand Prix, in response to questions on whether or not Tails Prower should be held responsible for Sonic losing his lead in the final stretch. He was adamant that no one blame the child he's been responsible for over the past three years, yet many fans still see Prower's inability to keep his balance after a standard race collision as the cause of the "Spagonia Squander."

"The kid shouldn't have been out there in the first place," cable sportscaster Mick the Meerkat, who coined the name, stated. "Extreme gear racing has always been extremely competitive. Heck, it's in the dang name!"

Racers have always been encouraged to use their competition to their advantage, whether it's riding their slipstream or knocking boards around for a clear path to boost through. The chaotic nature of the motorsport is part of what people love about it.

"But it's not a place for kids," Mick went on to say. "Obviously they're gonna get hurt out there facing off with the pros. In my opinion, any respectable parent or guardian wouldn't allow it, and if anyone's considering letting their kids try to compete at these professional levels, then they've gotta be outta their minds."

But what if that guardian is adrenaline-seeker and vigilante hero, Sonic the Hedgehog?

"[Tails has] been keeping up with me since he was four," he revealed when asked privately about his history with Tails and his capabilities as a racer at such a young age. "He wouldn't have been [in the race] if he didn't."

An entire childhood spent training in high speed situations to have him ready to compete on the same level as professionals before he's even reached double digits is an unusual environment to grow up in, one that might make for an exceptional case given the circumstances. Prodigies are defined by their childhood ability to perform at adult professional levels in a particular area. But does capability equal capacity? Does having the potential to perform at a professional level supersede a child's physical and mental limits, regardless if they're a prodigy or not?

"High expectations can put a lot of pressure and stress on a child, especially when it comes to gifted children who equate their ability to perform at a certain level with their sense of self-worth," Dr. Greta Grizzle, child psychiatrist, explained. "Oftentimes we see symptoms of things like anxiety, depression, low self-worth, and self-harming behaviors develop later on in adolescence and adulthood when child prodigies are frequently placed in positions where they're expected to perform above their maturity level without adequate support systems in place." 

And whether his young age made him a target for other racers?

"People get weird whenever a kid is better than them at stuff," Sonic the Hedgehog said, acknowledging that Tails's age was a key factor in the Babylon Rogues' strategy. "He's the youngest racer in the Spagonia Grand Prix and custom built our gear himself."

Now, upon discovery that Sonic the Hedgehog is the legal guardian of Tails Prower, some people find him at fault for child endangerment or that his participation created a conflict of interest, but as an adolescent himself and a novice to the ExGearGP, is it unreasonable to expect him to enforce a rule that not even the ExGearGP does?

"We have never been in a position where we needed to consider implementing an age requirement to participate in graded races," a representative of ExGearGP, who requested they remain anonymous, explained. "In most cases, racers under the age of twelve have never advanced far enough in their qualifying races. Jet the Hawk was the one exception four years ago. If he had been injured at any point during the season, considerations might have been made back then, but he raced impeccably and he was beloved by fans as the son of one of the most decorated racers in our time. There was no objection to him participating, so it never came up whether he should or should not have been allowed to compete."

One might argue that a single case cannot create a standard that should be implemented by an entire industry, but when that case causes physical and emotional harm to a child, perhaps standards are exactly what are needed to prevent future cases. Even Jet the Hawk did not win each of his ExGearGP races in his debut year, so the expectation that a child has the capacity to walk away with a medal or even a qualifying rank for the next year's races is an unlikely one.

But that does not make it Tails Prower's fault that he participated in a race he did not have a chance at winning. It's not Sonic the Hedgehog's fault for permitting him to race and then for prioritizing his charge's well-being over winning the grand prix. It's not even the Babylon Rogues' fault for using him in their strategy to win when knocking into other racers is explicitly permitted and often encouraged.

No, the ones who should be held accountable for the "Spagonia Squander" are the ExGearGP themselves and their lack of foresight when it comes to standardizing an age requirement for the protection and well-being of children who think that just because they have the potential to race means that they can actually participate. 

As world-renowned as this league of racing is, it is up to them to set the standard, especially when so many young racers look up to them and dream of competing. Anything less than that is reckless, negligent, and fosters an environment for child endangerment by failing to have standards or age limitations in place to prevent young, impressionable racers from getting in over their heads too early. It does not matter if they are child prodigies or living up to a legacy. The risk of irreparable physical and emotional harm is too great for such little reward.

"Did you genuinely believe [Tails] stood a chance at winning?" I asked Sonic the Hedgehog, point blank.

"He didn't."

8 months later

The summer heat rippled off the red mountains surrounding the Mystic Ruins, the humidity thick in the deepest parts of the jungle. On the coast, right off the cliffs overlooking the sea, there was a bit of a reprieve from the oppressive moisture in the air as the wind was carried on the waves, sweeping through the alcove where Tails's workshop and the old, abandoned train station sat comfortably. The breeze made it one of the milder days, only expected to get worse going into July and August, so Tails took the opportunity to leave the hangar door to the workshop open as he tinkered on his latest project in the grass just outside it. 

The long, wild blades swayed with the wind, tickling his ankles as he stood over two hydraulic stands propping up the Blue Star II. His focus was entirely on soldering the sleek metal panels back on the underside of the board, having just completed expanding the gear's air capacity and conservation, effectively increasing the amount of time the board could go between refueling and maximizing the percentage of supplemental air Sonic could generate through tricks and drifting. With that taken care of, all the upgrades Tails had on his to-do list were taken care of. All that was left was the touch-up paint.

Though he hummed to himself as music pumped out of his computer's speakers inside the hangar, tapping his foot along to the beat, his two tails remained rather subdued. They swayed slowly, much like the grass in the wind, instead of flicking about and fueled by the excitement of innovation. He finished sealing the underside of the gear and set aside the soldering iron. Tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, Tails gave it a few seconds to cool before he pressed his palm down against the panel to test its give. Satisfied with the hold, Tails turned towards the open hangar, inwardly debating whether he should just go ahead and start painting it while he was out here or if it was well-past time that he pause for lunch.

He ran out of time to figure it out for himself, however, when a gust of wind whipped around the workshop and snatched the Blue Star II right from its perch. "Hey!" Tails yipped, whirling about to hopefully catch sight of the culprit.

A low whistle floated back to him on the breeze as Sonic held his newly patched up extreme gear to admire it in the sun. "Looking good, pal! Think ya missed a spot though."

Sonic flipped the board, pointing to the new panels with a playful wink. Tails rolled his eyes, planting both hands on his hips as he pointedly tapped his foot. Though a comfortable warmth bloomed in his chest at his sudden appearance, spreading throughout him in giddy surprise that Sonic was back earlier than he expected, he was determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how happy he was to see him with an entrance like that. 

Fixing his big brother with an admonishing look, Tails shook his head and tsked. "That's because it's not finished yet. It still needs some touch-up paint."

"Well, what's the hold up?" Sonic grinned.

"Oh, my bad. I wasn't aware there was a deadline," Tails scoffed, expertly ducking before Sonic could give him a noogie in exchange for his sass. "Besides, I wasn't expecting you back so soon. Thought you were going to hang out around Westopolis for a few more days."

"Eh. Got sick of the fog and gloom. Thought I'd cut my sightseeing short and see what you're up to instead!" Sonic tossed the extreme gear in the air, letting it flip around before he caught it. "And apparently my curiosity has been rewarded. Looks like I'm just in time for a test drive!"

"I just said it still needs to be painted—"

"Paint's got nothing to do with how fast it can go." Sonic winked. "It's just for style and let's face it, I've got more than enough of that on my own."

"Good to know the aesthetics I put so much time and energy into designing are appreciated," Tails deadpanned, unable to fight back the smirk teasing the corners of his mouth when Sonic suddenly flashed a sheepish look at him.

"Eh-heh… Love ya, little buddy."

"Mmhm."

"You know I'm the biggest fan of your tech!" Sonic rushed to placate him, zipping over to his side and slinging an arm across his shoulders. "No one does form and function better than you, pal!"

"Laying it on a little thick there, pal," Tails replied, then playfully jabbed Sonic in the side with his elbow. "It's fine, Sonic. I know what you meant. And honestly it's to be expected when patience isn't exactly your area of expertise."

"Nope!" he agreed cheerfully, then smushed their cheeks together on purpose to get back at him for the jab. "And ya wouldn't have me any other way!"

"Sonic!" Tails laughed, trying to wriggle away from the rough nuzzling without making him drop the gear. "Just go for your test run already! It'll actually give me more accurate data using your weight, height, and race attributes instead of mine to make sure all the adjustments I made will work the way I intended. If I need to tweak anything, at least I can tune it specifically to you before painting."

"That's the spirit!" Sonic grinned, ruffling the fur atop Tails's head before he zipped away and back in a blink, tossing the Yellow Tail at him before he fully registered what was happening. "Let's go!"

Tails thanked the fact that being raised by Sonic left him with pretty fast reflexes when he managed to catch his extreme gear after only a little bit of panicked fumbling. "Wait, what?"

"Well, there's no better way to test how it'll handle in a race than a race!" Sonic had already dropped into a lunge, ready to run and launch himself onto the Blue Star II. "C'mon, Tails! You haven't eaten yet, right? Winner picks lunch!"

Without giving him a second to agree, Sonic took off. He didn't miss a step as he leapt onto his gear and initiated the air boost. The Blue Star II shot off like a rocket, almost just as much of a blue blur as its rider himself. Tails sputtered as a rush of air ruffled his fur, wincing as tiny blades of grass and grit flew back at his face.

"No fair! I didn't agree to the terms yet!" Tails hollered after him, breaking into a sprint as he positioned his gear to follow Sonic's slipstream.

Both tails spinning for an added "oomph," Tails hopped onto his board, using both hands to brace himself before his feet touched down. The lush fields surrounding the workshop sped past in a dizzying blur as Tails took a second to adjust to the sudden boost of speed. Where the Blue Star II was unmatched in its ability to hold its top speed consistently, the Yellow Tail's acceleration had a punchiness to it that helped give him a bit of an extra boost when taking off or recovering from an obstacle or tight turn. It required more control and precision, a mindfulness of the machine itself that suited Tails's racing style more than Sonic's. Whatever could be automated on Sonic's was, so he could go all in on speed and tricks without sweating the small stuff.

Speaking of tricks, Sonic flung himself off the edge of the cliff the workshop sat atop, spinning around in a series of dizzying air tricks that kept him airborne as he soared towards the train tracks. His gleeful shout echoed off the mountains around them, whooping with an authentic kind of joy that flooded Tails's own chest with how contagious it was. Tails propelled himself after him, knees bent and stance steady as he chased him down. Sonic weaved through the arches at the base of the railway's bridge, heading straight for the rickety stairs up to the platform.

Blue and orange blurs blasted through the tunnel leading out of their little alcove, with Sonic holding the lead as he guided them towards Windy Valley, where they'd have more space to move about freely than they would in the depths of the jungle or between the craggy peaks of the red mountains. Miles of green grass rippled beneath their boards, like a sea of emerald under the shining summer sun. Sonic pushed the Blue Star II to its highest possible speed, riding the wind with a sense of freedom that was almost close to what he felt when running. It took a different set of muscles, his core working harder than his legs to keep his balance on extreme gear, but the rush of adrenaline was very much the same, with an added thrill at seeing just how much one of Tails's gadgets could keep up with him.

The aerial wind farm twisting above them went untouched for now, the two keeping their race relatively grounded. "Relative," being the key word. Sonic soared over the crest of a hill, building up more air with a few flips. Feeling a bit daring, he also flipped himself, planting a one-handed handstand on his board, so he was completely upside-down while facing Tails. The unfiltered glee on his face was all boyish excitement as he kicked out one leg and grabbed the toe of his sneaker mid-air. 

"Woohoo!" he whooped, his delighted laughter carried back to Tails on the wind.

Tongue poking out the side of his mouth, Tails zoomed forward, kicking off his own series of tricks to try and show up his big bro. "Awww yeah!"

"Alright, Tails!" Sonic cheered him on, pushing off his hand to right himself on the board once again before Tails overshot him. "Hey, hey, hey! Where d'ya think you're going?"

"The finish line!" Tails winked, shooting him a two-fingered salute.

"Not ahead of me you're not!" Sonic shifted his weight, boosting forward with a well-timed kick dash to swipe the lead back from him. "Later!"

They veered around the occasional rocky outcrops peppered throughout the valley, using them for more air tricks and obstacles to throw one another off with sharp turns and sudden drops. When Sonic drifted around one, Tails plowed ahead right for it, taking a risk on using it as a makeshift ramp. He punched his acceleration again and went flying off it, coasting over Sonic's head until he landed directly in front of him.

"Later!" Tails echoed back at him, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to increase their distance much when his speed topped out.

It wouldn't take long for Sonic to build his own speed back up and ride his slipstream out from behind him, so Tails was going to have to pull out all the stops to make sure he couldn't get a free pass. Keeping his center of gravity low, Tails began to swivel his hips, moving his board in a sweeping, side-to-side motion. Each time Sonic tried to get around him, Tails blocked his path and disrupted his slipstream.

"What are you doing?" Sonic's incredulous laugh rose up above the rushing wind.

Tails tossed a grin back over his shoulder, hips still swaying back and forth. "I call it the 'Two-Tailed Twist!'"

"More of a shimmy than a twist!" Sonic snickered, relentlessly trying to edge his way around Tails despite being blocked with each little shift. "How 'bout a bit of the ol' Sonic Shuffle?"

"You can't call it that! That's the name of our card game!" Tails complained.

"What about Sonic Swivel?"

"Sure, I'll allow it."

"Okay, well hold onto your tails, Tails, 'cuz here it comes!"

Sonic didn't wait for an opening this time, instead risking the chance that the Blue Star II's nose might graze the Yellow Tail's tail. Just as Tails swayed in front of him, Sonic angled his board away sharply, in a move that would've knocked him off balance at such high speeds. But he braced himself against Tails, grabbing onto his wrists and using their combined momentum to swing them around.

"Woah!" Tails yelped, automatically latching onto Sonic's hands when his gear spun out of his complete control.

But Sonic didn't let go. He tethered them together as they spun across the fields, boards syncing up as they found balance in each other's movements. With Sonic beaming at him, it was hard for Tails to deny just how fun it was to get a little silly with it. To spin around in circles and figure out how to move as one. The right amount of push and pull against each other to propel them forward on a track that only existed in their imagination, and would carry on for as long as they wanted it to.

Which was when Sonic decided he wanted the win.

With a twist of his hips and true to its name, Sonic swiveled around so he was in front of Tails, then pushed away from him. Going backwards, Sonic wagged a single finger at Tails while he zipped ahead, then made a push for the railroad tracks once again. Tails puffed up his cheeks and burst after him, trying to make up the difference, but there was no room to pass him once they were on the tracks. Not without falling off and losing too much ground.

As they passed over the workshop, they both launched themselves off the bridge for one last trick shot, with Sonic gliding across the runway first.

"This race is mine!" he shouted, pumping both fists in the air with a giddy little skip, kicking off the Blue Star II with a flourish while the gear continued on undeterred. He didn't let it get too far though, dashing off to catch the board and back by the time Tails coasted to a stop. "And claiming the much-coveted, second place spot is none other than the highly admired, often imitated, but never duplicated, Miles 'Tails' Prower!"

"Yeah, yeah," Tails chuckled, rolling his eyes as he cut the air to his gear like a sane person, hopping off once it wasn't at risk of shooting off the cliff and into the ocean. "Don't gotta rub it in."

"You call that rubbing it in? This is rubbing it in!" Sonic hooked his arm around his neck and dragged him in for a noogie. "Good race, little bro! Those were some pretty slick moves!"

"Sonic!" Tails laughed, even as he twisted around in his hold, only finding freedom when his fingers quickly scribbled along Sonic's ribs and sent him skedaddling six feet away with a yelp.

Tails straightened his fur out as he watched Sonic hop from foot to foot, trying to glare at him through his breathy giggles. "Nuh-uh. No fair. That was cheap," Sonic accused.

With a devious grin he'd grown up on the receiving end of, Tails wiggled his fingers in his direction. "You left yourself open."

Sonic stuck his tongue out at him, hugging his sides protectively as he practically danced around Tails to get into the workshop. "Anyway, don't go changing the subject! I won, so I get to pick lunch!"

Shaking his head with a sigh that was half long-suffering little brother and half fondness, Tails crouched down to pick up the Yellow Tail and the forgotten Blue Star II, hiking them under each arm before following Sonic inside. "A round of chili dogs, coming up."

He always kept the kitchen stocked with all the necessary ingredients for chili dogs. Even if Sonic planned to be gone for weeks, there was no telling when he might decide to pop over on a whim in between jaunts around the world, so it was best to be prepared. Also, Tails couldn't deny that he craved them sometimes, too. When he was particularly nostalgic for smokey campfire nights and starry skies and a brother who was only a blanket away.

But he was used to their new status quo now; he'd adapted and at eight and a half years old, he was plenty mature enough to take care of himself for long stretches of time, and honestly liked it that way. The independence to do as he pleased and come up with his own little routines and structure was worth the momentary lapses of loneliness that really only crept up on him if he wasn't paying attention.

Tails set the two boards by the entrance to the hangar, then closed it shut behind him. With a whirl of his tails, he flew up over the stairs to the second floor. Sonic had already made himself comfortable, flopped across the couch with his legs dangling over the arm as he flipped through the stack of mail that had been sitting on the coffee table. Tails headed into the kitchen and got out his countertop grill and a pot to cook the chili in.

"Hey, so how did the Blue Star II handle?" Tails asked as he set the grill to preheat, any sore feelings over losing dissipating quickly in the face of what had appeared to be an excellent showcase of his extreme gear engineering. "Did you see how much further your air reserves got you? Oh! And the turn radius looked so much tighter than in previous tests!"

"No kidding! Drifting was so smooth, it seriously felt like the gear was an extension of my body," Sonic called back. "And the extra boost at the end? I didn't know how you could improve on perfection, but you sure showed me!"

"I just modified the weight distribution to account for your stance and where you put the most pressure on the board and adjusted the angle of the nose by just the slightest increments to decrease wind resistance," Tails chuckled sheepishly, a pleased flush rising to his cheeks as the feeling of accomplishment warmed him through. "And added ventilation along the sides so that any air you built up while drifting would refuel you the same way air tricks and slipstreams would so you'd get that added boost. Which is also why I had to increase your air capacity."

"You 'just modified the weight distribution,'" Sonic echoed mockingly, "'and added ventilation—' Don't downplay how awesome you are, bud. My win out there was just as much yours as it was mine with all the upgrades you've put into it."

Tails poked his head out around the corner of the kitchen. "Then how come I didn't get to pick lunch?" he teased.

Sonic snorted. "You can pick dessert."

"Triple scoop mint chip fudge sundae with extra whipped cream and—"

"—and marshmallows," Sonic finished with a laugh, lifting one hand so Tails could see his thumbs up over the back of the couch from the kitchen. "You got it, little buddy."

Tails did a little fist pump and spun on the ball of his foot as his tails twirled. "Yes!" he cheered quietly to himself, but from Sonic's snickering, he knew he'd still heard. "Shut up. I can be excited."

"No one said you couldn't," Sonic laughed, the sound of his rapidly flipping through envelopes suddenly stopping. "Yo, why's this addressed to Knuckles?"

Tails hovered up to grab a can of chili from the cupboard. "Well, it's not like he can get mail on Angel Island. Whenever he needs to put down an address for something, I just give them the workshop's."

"Signing him up for a buncha junk mail, huh? Heh, if the big guy wants to be pestered that badly, I need to step up my game!"

"Don't get any ideas," Tails sighed, twisting the can opener to pop open the chili. "I don't sign him up for junk mail. It's only for very specific circumstances where people need to contact him in some way. And I'm not about to give people ways to access his communicator. I don't want our lines compromised."

"Who the heck would need to contact that knucklehead 'sides from us?" Sonic hummed curiously, and Tails heard him flip over the envelope he was looking at. "The ExGearGP?"

"It's his invitation for the season's big races," Tails reminded him. "The top six racers in each of the graded races get a spot for the following year, remember?"

"Oh, yeah!" Sonic quickly shuffled through the rest of the mail, finding the one addressed to him seconds later. "Almost forgot about the grand prix!"

Tails rolled his eyes, nudging the fridge door shut with the back of his heel as he set a package of hot dogs on the counter. "You mean you did forget, and would remember once I put next month's calendar on the fridge."

"I'm not gonna quibble." Sonic waved it off just as he waved the envelope in the air. "When were ya gonna tell me we got our invites?"

"They just got here yesterday. Figured I'd finish my upgrades on the Blue Star II before letting you know, just in case you decided to show up as soon as I told you."

"Heh, beat ya to it," Sonic chuckled. "Fastest thing alive strikes again."

Tails snorted back his own laugh, if only to keep from encouraging him. Instead he focused on setting several hot dogs on the little griddle while the chili warmed up on the stove. He grabbed the buns from the breadbox and eased them open so he could toast them a little.

"I figured I'd just call Knuckles to let him know the dates, but since you're here, maybe we could make a little trip out of it and give him the invitation in person," Tails suggested.

"I like the sound of that," Sonic answered easily. "It's been a minute since we've bugged the guy." 

Just as he went to grab the cheese from the fridge, Sonic zipped in and affixed his invitation to the door with a magnet. His eyes skimmed over the other things tacked up—mostly pictures and drawings and their whiteboard calendar—smile turning pensive before his gaze slid over to Tails.

"Where's yours?"

Tails didn't say anything as he turned his back to him to examine the hot dogs sizzling away on the griddle; the sound of them cooking the only response he got, prompting Sonic to continue.

"It wasn't in the pile with the rest of the mail, so I figured you'd already stuck it up here."

Tails turned each of the hot dogs over with a pair of tongs. "I didn't get one."

He felt Sonic's stare boring into the back of his head, briefly flicking away to check the date on the invitation before bouncing back to Tails. "I'm sure it'll come later today. Or maybe tomorrow! You know how slow the mail can be."

Mouth pursing into a fine line, Tails focused on finishing up the chili dogs. He nestled four of them in their buns, two on each plate, then spooned a heaping amount of chili over them. Turning towards Sonic, he wordlessly held out their plates while Sonic speedily grated the cheddar cheese over them. He took their plates to the table, Sonic right on his heels with a juice box in one hand and a Chaos Cola in the other.

Once Sonic was happily chowing down, Tails cleared his throat. "I'm uh… I'm not going to get one."

"Hmwah?" Sonic made a questioning sound with his mouth full.

"An invitation. To the Spagonia Grand Prix. Or any of the ExGearGP races this year."

Sonic slowed his chewing, brow creasing with confusion as he blinked at his little brother like he'd just given him a complex math equation to solve. "Whaddya mean?" he asked after he swallowed. "The top six from last year automatically get to race, that's what you just said."

"Yeah…"

"And you were in the top six."

"Yeah," Tails sighed, ears flicking back and gaze dropping to his plate. "But I'm not eligible to compete this year. So they gave my spot to whoever came in seventh."

"Whaddya mean you're not eligible to compete?" Sonic asked incredulously.

Tails shrugged. "There was an amendment to the eligibility requirements this year. Apparently there was enough backlash after the big upset in Spagonia that they thought it was worth investigating. That and one of the people you talked to after the race last year wrote an article criticizing the ExGearGP for not implementing an age requirement and started a petition to change that for future grand prix races. It got over five thousand signatures."

Sonic stared at him. "What?"

"Yeah, her argument was that it wasn't my fault that you lost the race, and that it wasn't your fault either. It wasn't even the Babylon Rogues's fault." Tails picked up one of his chili dogs and made a face at it. "It was the league's fault for being 'reckless, negligent, and fostering an environment for child endangerment by failing to have standards or age limitations in place to prevent young, impressionable racers from getting in over their heads too early.'"

Sonic's jaw dropped. "Ah—wuh—that's ridiculous! You placed well enough in the qualifying rounds to be able to compete! You earned your spot in the grand prix!"

"Yeah, but her argument is that having a talent for racing doesn't mean you're 'emotionally mature enough' to be able to handle the high stakes of a real race or whatever. And enough people agreed with her, I guess." Tails shrugged again, then took a bite of his chili dog, even if he didn't feel all that hungry anymore.

Sonic blinked once, struck silent for approximately two beats. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You fight for people's lives constantly—you know how to handle high stakes! That's not why you fell!"

"I know that, but they've already approved the amendments to the league rules. I'm not old enough."

Sonic slammed his palms against the table as he pushed up from his seat. Tails jumped, gaze darting up from his chili dog to catch the determined look on his face before he sped away into the kitchen. A fridge magnet clattered on the floor, immediately followed by the sound of crumpling paper.

"What are you doing?" Tails turned, just in time to watch Sonic toss the wadded up invitation in the trash. "Sonic," he sighed, then got up from the table, too. He marched over and promptly fished it out of the trash. "You can't throw away your invitation."

"Yeah I can. Just did."

Tails unfolded it, smoothing out the creases before handing it back to him. "You have to race."

Sonic folded his arms across his chest. "I don't have to do anything."

Tails waved the paper at him. "Don't you know how it'll look if you don't show?"

"That I got better things to do?" Sonic arched his brow, crooked smile playing at the corner of his muzzle.

"No." Tails stared at him blandly. "That it's just another way for Jet to win."

"Jet only wins if I let him win." Sonic shrugged. "Like I said, I've got better things to do than race somewhere that's so small-minded, it won't consider merit over putting a bandaid on an issue that isn't even an issue. Your age has no bearing on your talent and your skill level. And for anyone to say otherwise? Well, they're not people I wanna associate with. You've done more in your eight years than most people have done in their entire lives! I mean, I guess eight years is your entire life, but I mean full-grown, crusty, ancient fifty year olds or whatever."

Tails's smile was all exasperated fondness as he sighed. "I know."

Sonic planted his hands on his hips. "So I'm not gonna race."

"But you already told Jet you'd see him at the next grand prix," Tails reminded him.

"Guess Jet's gonna have to learn to deal with disappointment."

"And the ExGearGP really wants you to," Tails pressed, holding up the invitation again. "They're already advertising this year as your big comeback. Yours and Jet's rivalry showdown. The race to regain your pride."

"I haven't even agreed to compete yet." Sonic arched his brow.

Tails shrugged. "I guess they just assumed you would."

"Well, then that's their fault. Again. Just like the people that bet everything on me—I didn't tell them to do that. And I'm not telling 'em now that I'm racing. If they really want me that bad…" Sonic grinned. "Then I've got some terms they need to negotiate with me first."

Tails sighed, both tails fluttering low to the ground. "Why do I have a feeling I'm gonna be dragged into something I really don't want to be dragged into?"

Sonic gave him a considering look, then crouched down on one knee to be at his level. "Tails, if you don't want to race, that's one thing. If it's your decision that you don't want to do it, then I would obviously respect that. But you're being told you can't. And that doesn't sit right with me. So if we go and get them to amend the rules just for you to say, 'I don't want to race?' That's cool with me. Honestly that'd be pretty funny. But I'm not letting them think for a second that they're getting away with this. And I have a feeling you don't want them to either."

"No, of course not," Tails huffed out his agreement, the frustration that had been building up since he'd first read up on the new regulations and the incriminating article that accompanied it bubbling up in his chest like a shaken soda ready to pop. "It's embarrassing—it's humiliating! I'm Miles 'Tails' Prower. I'm Sonic the Hedgehog's right-hand guy. I'm a world record-breaking pilot and mechanic. I've designed and built military-grade weapons and transportation vehicles that blow G.U.N.'s out of the sky. I've custom built an entire line of professional level extreme gear boards. And I'm a pioneer of green energy resources!"

Sonic reached up and ruffled his fur with a proud smile. "Atta boy. You tell 'em, Tails!"

For once, Tails leaned into the touch willingly, warm and steady and always there to help him up whenever he was knocked down. "I know you get it," he said, all the air deflating from his pride on a heavy sigh. "It's just… nobody else ever sees me the way you do."

"That's why it's my mission to make 'em see." Sonic tapped the tip of Tails's nose, then straightened up and offered him a hand. "C'mon, little bro. Whaddya say we take a detour to Spagonia on our way to Angel Island and that ice cream sundae?"

"Sure, but we should probably finish our chili dogs first," Tails reminded him.

"Shoot! You're right!" Sonic gasped, dramatically racing back to the table to practically inhale his second chili dog. "That was a close one! Could've been a complete tragedy letting 'em go to waste like that," he said with his mouth full.

"I wouldn't let that happen. You can always count on me to have your back, even when it comes to chili dogs," Tails teased as he sat back down across from him, taking smaller, more thoughtful bites of his lunch.

Sonic wiped his mouth with the fur of his arm. "Speaking of having each other's backs… you said something about an article? I don't remember who all I talked to, but I remember most of 'em being jerks. Do I gotta have words with them, too?"

Tails pursed his mouth, waiting until after he finished chewing to answer. "She did take a lot of what you said out of context. You could have a case for defamation, but the article was published last September, so it's not like it's a current issue anymore. I don't know how seriously a judge would take your case at this point." 

"Well, it's currently an issue for me. I can't just not do something about it. Not that I wanna get involved with the courts again." Sonic shuddered. "Was thinking of something a little less formal."

"That's what I figured, so I already took care of it." Tails smirked as Sonic raised a questioning brow. "Hey, I might not want to sign Knuckles up for a bunch of junk mail, but I have no qualms flooding that reporter's email inbox with a constant influx of spam. It'll take her years to unsubscribe from everything I've associated with her professional email account. And in the meantime, whatever correspondence she's trying to have for future articles is just going to keep getting buried. Plus I might've infected her computer with a virus that completely fried her hard drive."

Sonic flashed a grin, reaching across the table for a fist bump that Tails eagerly met halfway. "And that's why ya don't mess with my best buddy!"

"Or my best buddy," Tails added. "Sure it was annoying reading what she had to say about me, but I was more mad that she completely misled you. I overheard some of her questions that day. She omitted so much of the context of your responses that they read as flat out lies. It was obvious she was just using you and your name for her own agenda. I can't stand when people do that. You deserve so much better."

"Eh, I try not to let it bother me. People are gonna say stuff about me that isn't true, that's just the way things go." Sonic shrugged, taking a long swing of his soda.

"Uh-huh." Tails sent him a bland, unconvinced look. "But when they say things about me that aren't true…"

"I’ll kill 'em!" Sonic beamed at him, the cheerfulness in his voice completely at odds with his words. 

"Sonic."

"What? Let 'em take that one outta context," he chuckled, far too pleased with himself as he resumed rocking on the back legs of the chair. "Hell hath no fury like a big brother scorned. Might hafta be my new catchphrase."

Tails looked down at his plate, quietly picking at the half a chili dog that still remained while he listened to the sway of Sonic's chair for a minute. "If I decided not to race," he started, catching himself in a moment of hesitation that couldn't linger when Sonic glanced at him curiously. "Would you still accept your invitation?"

"Dunno. Depends on how fun it is negotiating." Sonic winked.

"Can't be more fun than actually racing," Tails argued.

"Mm. No, probably not. Not much beats a good race."

"So you should still race regardless of how this plan of yours turns out."

"Eh, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it." Sonic waved it off, still rocking back in his chair. "Wouldn't be the end of the world if I turned 'em down though."

"But you love racing," Tails pointed out. "You just said not much beats it and opportunities like this aren't always a guarantee."

"Oh yeah? Whaddya call what we just did out there?" Sonic jabbed his thumb towards the window.

"That doesn't count."

Sonic gestured to the table. "My victory lunch would say otherwise. Of course it counted, Tails. A race doesn't need to have sponsors and shiny medals to be worth something."

"No, but it does need actual competition," Tails huffed. "You can't say that racing against me is anywhere close to the same as racing Shadow or Metal Sonic or Jet."

"Okay, but that's not a bad thing." Sonic's brow furrowed, mouth twisting to one side. "Racing with you is fun in a different way. Its own way."

"Because you know I don't stand a chance of beating you?"

"No." Sonic glared at him for that, only frowning harder when Tails scoffed. "Okay, maybe in a foot race, sure, but with things like extreme gears, we're on an even playing field. Which is part of what makes it fun. You've got just as much of a chance at beating me as anyone. And you know that. It's what pushes you to keep going, to develop your own style, to never give up. That's always been something that shines in you, Tails. How much you don't give up. How hard you keep trying.

"And I get a kick out of watching you, not because I get to rub my win in your face, but because I get to see how far you've come each time. I always have to switch things up with you. You take me by surprise in ways Shadow or Metal or Jet never could. Sure, there's this adrenaline rush that comes with competing with them where it feels kinda like playing with fire or whatever ya wanna call it, and I know how to push their buttons to get the reaction I want outta them. It might not be the same with you—I mean, I know how to get a rise outta you, obviously. That's my job as your big bro. But it's always been way more interesting to see what you'll do on your own, without much meddling from me. And there's still an adrenaline rush, but instead of risking being burned, the fire's just... warm."

Sonic made a face, glancing away as he scratched at his cheek awkwardly, suddenly shy and annoyed about it. "I dunno how else to describe it."

Tails's shoulders slumped, though his eyes were shining and his tails unable to help wagging at the sheer sincerity in Sonic's voice. "...okay."

"'Okay?'" Sonic arched his brow and leaned forward. "'Okay' you believe what I'm telling you here? Mr. Miles 'Tails' Prower, ace pilot and mechanic, master hacker, green energy pioneer, and Sonic the Hedgehog's number one guy?"

It wrestled a giggle from him that appeared to appease whatever button Tails had pushed for his big bro—whether accidentally or not. "Yeah, I believe you. I just don't want you to miss out on anything because of me. You've already given up so much."

"Trust me, bud. If I've given up anything, it must not've been important 'cuz I haven't even noticed it's gone."

Tails looked across the table at him, his heart threatening to burst right out of his chest at how easy—how simple—it was for Sonic to admit that, despite how awkward it may have felt for him. He said it all anyway. Just because he wanted Tails to know.

But a part of him still couldn't deny this feeling of responsibility for his brother's happiness. As much as Sonic lived his own way, by his own rules, Tails knew he held a sort of tether around the hero of Mobius's heart that had more influence than he might've deserved. Because if it was up to Sonic alone, he would race, no questions asked. He wouldn't hesitate or second-guess. He'd go for the gold and he wouldn't look back.

"No matter what happens with the league, whether I'm part of it or not, I still really hope you race in the grand prix," Tails told him earnestly, hoping to give back just a fraction of the pep talk he'd been given, time and time again. "Can you at least promise it's not completely off the table?"

Sonic released a loud, put-upon sigh as he leaned back in his chair again, but sent a wink his way nonetheless. "Just 'cuz it's you, keed."

While the heads of the ExGearGP were thoroughly cowed by Sonic's unannounced arrival and demands, they couldn't rescind the invitation they'd already given to the seventh place racer in order to give Tails his slot back. While they'd agreed to revise the age restriction to only account for any future debuting racers, Tails would still have to participate in the qualifying races in order to earn his spot in the Spagonia Grand Prix and any of the following graded races.

Which wasn't too bad of a compromise, Tails supposed. Amy was racing in the qualifiers this year, too, since she thought the extreme gear racing looked so fun and practically begged Tails to design her a custom pink board, so at least the two of them would be racing together.

Because as tempting as it was to turn it down after the restriction was revised under Sonic the Hedgehog's glaring green eye, as soon as the opportunity was presented to him, Tails wanted to try. He wanted another chance to prove himself. 

He wanted to show everyone they made a mistake in doubting what he was capable of, especially since the hero of Mobius never did.

No, said hero had a front row seat at the starting line, whooping at the top of his lungs and waving a hand-painted flag bearing a familiar, if messy, two-tailed insignia with a #1 on it, while Knuckles stood stiffly beside him, holding a banner that read "Go Tails and Amy!"

It might've been embarrassing, the sight the two of them made in front of all the other racers and the fans who came out to see the fresh blood for this season's races, but Tails couldn't help grinning when he caught Sonic's eye.

At this distance, whatever words he had to say to him would be lost by the crowd and the announcers calling the racers into position, but Tails had a clear view of Sonic's hands as he quickly signed to him, "Go for the gold, Tails! You've got this!"

Tails beamed at him, then flashed a wink his way before scampering over to the starting line. He would show him—he'd show everyone—that he wouldn't give up his chance to race without even trying. He'd do his best. He'd make him proud.

Taking his place beside Amy and the other racers, Tails readied his stance and kept his eyes locked on the starting line as it lit up and began to move ahead of them, a steady beeping counting down until they had the green light to ride.

Beep-beep…BEEP.

"And they're off!"