His day begins innocently enough. Having been gone for six months and having spent a further month or two cleaning up after the widespread war, of course the biplane he and Tails kept for good measure would be in sorry shape.
Tails offers to help but his older brother doesn't feel the need to put any more weight on the kid's shoulders. After all, the fox has done enough to pick up the pieces his brother's absence left behind.
What he doesn't tell his friend is that he needs a menial, mindless task like this to distract himself. What he refuses to let his friend see are his shaking hands, haphazard steps, and paranoid glances.
Cleaning the plane had been easy enough, albeit tedious. Rain had trickled into the hangar outside the workshop, no doubt brought in by the adjacent jungle's climate. The damp air had left parts of the Tornado with rust and discolouration.
He had definitely polished several spots much more than needed, while staring back into his own unpleasant memories. He catches his reflection against the shining metal; he looks ragged and it's clear a tired weariness has crept into his bones.
How long has it been since he disappeared without a word, levelling an abandoned fortress to the ground in explosive, unbridled fury? He recalls Tails' face when he had returned from the second absence. A pang of guilt makes him wince.
He hops down from the plane's left wing, and traipses to the tool bench to retrieve a wrench.
Words and thoughts start creeping into his head, like phantoms at the edges of his vision, and he takes a heavy, uneven breath through his nose.
Almost robotically, his fingers wrap around a wrench he chooses without much thought and he turns around to start attempting a fix on the plane's loose wheels and propeller.
A metallic clang makes him reflexively lose control and his instincts leave him curled in a tight, shaking ball, ears pressed against his head as he crouches on the floor.
It sounds too much like the metal bars he was repeatedly slammed against while imprisoned.
He's so deeply entangled in his own fear that he doesn't even hear Tails come into the hangar. He doesn't hear the fox's urgent, worried calls of his name.
What he does register is that someone is in the room with him. He's about to reflexively throw himself at this intruder, this new threat, and then a gentle, reassuring hand touches his back.
Tails doesn't badger him with questions, doesn't even blink when his older brother's facade crumbles, breaking down into tense, strained crying. He ends up crouching at ground level with the hedgehog, his blue eyes sad and worried.
The fox isn't stupid. He knows the demons that lurk behind his brother's smiles and cheesy, motivational one liners. He's seen Sonic cry before and definitely feels like he's justified this time.
Sonic can't bring himself to make eye contact with the fox. He knows he must look weak and helpless, and he hates it. He hates every strained sound that escapes his chest.
Tails sighs. Not out of impatience or indifference, but out of sad, quiet sympathy.
He says something about coming inside and resting. That he'll buy some chilli dogs and fix him a warm drink. Sonic can't find the strength to respond and simply nods, making the tears resting on his nose bounce off the concrete floor.
Tails wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into a standing position. He doesn't let go until they're both outside of the building and as Sonic sits down in their shared workshop, his younger brother gives him a reassuring pat.
Sonic stops him from stepping away to get the previously mentioned drink and Tails takes the hint, sitting down on the old sofa next to him.
It's their first proper hug in what feels like a long time.
AN: Hope ya enjoyed. Sorry it's so short, but I'm more accustomed to spur of the moment, seat of my pants writing. Most of the time it's to get an idea or feelings out of my system. Plot structure ain't my strongest point.
Definitely inspired by some headcanons, and even though I enjoyed Forces quite a bit, there are ends that should have been tied up in much better ways.