So I got a lot of work done on the next chapter of Rescue, Rehabilitate, Release back in March, and was feeling really good about myself... aaaaand then proceeded to write almost nothing for it over April. Blah.
But I am really happy with what I did get down - pretty much finished the first half of the chapter, woo! - and I'm definitely feeling a bit antsy to share it, so I wanted to throw out a little snippet for anyone interested.
(First section of the chapter is a flashback - Nine's little reunion in chapter 1 has brought up some very happy sunshine-filled memories...)
He swallowed down the instincts that even now wanted to set his legs trembling, told him his eyes should be darting around taking stock of all potential hiding places or escape routes, to hold his tails protectively to his chest. Instincts that made his heart try to hammer its way out of his ribs, his stomach clench like he was going to be sick, with the knowledge of what was coming and his powerlessness to do anything to stop it. Forcefully shoved them behind an insurmountable wall built of cool logic and long-simmering fury.
No room for fear anymore. Push aside all the insistent memories of the consequences from the few times over the years he had ever dared attempt a fight rather than flight response. Here and now, for the first time in his life, he was no longer powerless.
He’d spent hours, days, practicing and training in his secret lab with his latest and greatest invention. Working out all the kinks, acclimatizing his brain to the new sensations.
The only step remaining was the practical test.
He remained silent as the footsteps scraped on the metal floor, closer and closer, interspersed with the obnoxious voices calling out for him, until finally two figures crossed the threshold of the junction where the tunnel split into two, putting themselves into his direct line of sight.
“You could just leave me alone.”
Chris and Scratch started at the sudden cold, emotionless voice, eyes and ears quickly honing in on the shadowy space it had issued from. It only took them a second to recover, though, sneering grins easily reasserting themselves.
It wasn’t as though they had ever been given any reason to be nervous around the owner of that voice, after all.
“Oh, there ya are, Tails!” Chris’s tail actually started wagging, no doubt anticipating the fun that was sure to be had soon now that their prey had given up its location. “An’ you’re finally talkin’ to us again, huh? Ain’t that nice, Scratch?”
Scratch snickered meanly, playfully elbowing his friend. “Yeah, last few times ya been givin’ us the whole high-an’-mighty silent treatment, had us worried ya’d started thinkin’ ya were too good for your old pals.”
The fox in the shadows swallowed, again pushing down any doubt about what had to happen. He’d revealed himself, he was committed to this course now. Everything was planned out meticulously, there was no point in second-guessing anything. The only possibility of this going any other way from here on was in the other foxes’ hands.
“You don’t have to do this,” he spoke again, allowing no hint of anxiety or fear from his voice, just simple statements of fact. “You could just go home and leave me alone. I haven’t done anything to you.”
“Yeeeah, we could, but honestly we’re kinda bored today,” Chris drawled carelessly. “An’ there’s no one in this whole city better’n you at helpin’ us fix that.”
“You said it, bro,” Scratch sneered. “So how ’bout ya drop this new act an’ come on out? Ya ain’t foolin’ anyone. Stretchin’ out the suspense ain’t gonna change what ya got comin’ to ya.”
They kept walking as they spoke, moving closer to the shadowy alcove from which their target was making no attempt to hide his presence.
“Just be a good little freak of nature an’ maybe we’ll go easy on ya today, Tails.”
Well. That was probably as good a prompt as any.
Before he could give his instincts any more chance to dissuade him, he finally stepped out from the shadows concealing him.
Chris and Scratch stopped stalking toward him as he moved into view, their leering, idiotic grins faltering slightly in mild confusion as they took in his appearance. The biggest change since the last time they’d interacted was still behind him, difficult to make out in the dim and occasionally-flickering light, but his stance, his demeanor, was decidedly not that of the cowering weakling that years of interactions had trained them to expect.
(And trained him to act as, until now.)
He pressed the button on his belt, and all seven of his new tails instantly snapped forward into attack mode.
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