[Sunny has told her more than anyone should ever have to. Aubrey’s never had a problem speaking; found it too easy, if anything. But she can be careful with Sunny— maybe too careful—a knife gleaming in a sliver of moonlight, feet on the edge of a roof—

[It’s done. Aubrey’s a fool if she thinks she can control what he does, any of them; she only needs to be there before it gnaws him apart.

[She carries him. Doesn’t push. Somehow, that’s been enough.

[Lightly, Aubrey rests her chin over Sunny’s head, curling ever-protectively around him. His food’s cold; that’s alright. She’ll be here all day and then some, squeezing, releasing, squeezing…]