[It takes substantial self-control not to throw her arms around him on sight, but Sunny was never quite a hugger (and really, neither was Aubrey); only with Mari. His sister.m
[Sunny’s arms are closed in upon himself, and Aubrey inadvertently mirrors. He looks smaller than he sounded; pale, undernourished, wiping his eyes. He was a hollow facsiile of himself at church, and she’s hardly seen him since—looked, yes, passed and disregarded, but never seen.
[Aubrey doesn’t know what to say. She shuffles in like an unwilling trespasser.]
H-hey… [The room gets a passing skim, but it’s Sunny she’s trying not to stare at. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—]
You’ve, ah… [Aubrey forces a glance towards the stuffed animals. It wanders idly back to the floor as she talks.] You’ve made it cozy here…
[His voice is very quiet - very quiet. He's not sure if she'll hear it at all. He doesn't look at her.]
Are we friends?
[He doesn't want to do this if they aren't friends. He doesn't want to be her nothing anymore, but he doesn't want to be just someone she's hanging onto old loyalty for either. Back in Faraway, it felt as though they had reconciled; maybe they did. There's an urgency to return, suddenly - because Basil is on the other side of that door. Sunny hasn't let himself feel it in two months. None of this was supposed to be real.
[So, how real is what he remembers?
[Are they friends? Or are they just meant to be apart?
[He loves her. It hurts. He doesn't want her to say no; doesn't even want her to hesitate. But he suspects she will.]
[Not yet...I don't...have to tell her anything...yet...
[There are other things to worry about. Sunny doesn't notice that his body has tensed until he feels the tension release; it isn't peace, though. Sunny sinks to the ground and covers his hands with his face. What's happening to him? And through it all, Aubrey - she doesn't know; she's right here.
[He was never the crybaby of the group. He wipes at his eyes, but it's impossible to stop the tears. All at once, he wants to go home. But going home only means going far away anyway. He doesn't know what he wants. He doesn't want anything.
[Sunny's sobs are only seen, not heard, the way his back jumps and shudders, curled up just like that. There's only one pair of arms he'd like to feel around him.
[There’s a split second, his face tense in fury, that Aubrey is dead certain she’s fucked up forever. Too hasty. Too desperate. The gall of her, assuming they could be friends again after one conversation, two months, four years—
[Sunny falls. She can’t hear him; she knows exactly what he’s doing. The drop to her knees is immediate; the outreach, delayed for a choked breath—]
Sunny…
[—and without second thought she throws her arms around him. The heave of her chest is audible. Aubrey’s no good at holding back.]
[Sunny's arms fly up to clutch the one Aubrey's thrown across his chest. He presses his head right up against her shoulder, his sobs becoming gasps; it's a childlike cry, the way he hiccups, sputters, clings.]
Au-aubrey-- [He blubbers her name, although it's quiet, curling into her and clinging ever tighter.
[He doesn't want to lose them. Aubrey, Kel, Hero, Basil - please, please, please - not anyone else. He doesn't want them to become old Polaroids. He doesn't want them to leave.]
[God, but they are both a mess. Aubrey’s never heard Sunny cry this hard; it makes her own sobs worse. But she could stay like this forever if it meant never having to let go of Sunny again, keeping him curled into her, being together. Despite his flash of anger, the way Sunny gasps out her name leaves little to doubt, or so she desperately, desperately hopes.
We’re friends, Sunny… [Pitched high and strained, croaked out between gasps. She pulls him closer, closer, closer, fingers curling tight around him. Don’t break him again.]
We’re friends, and we never should’ve sto— I, I never should’ve turned my back on you. [There she goes again… But it’s necessary this time. It feels necessary. Sunny has never been to blame at all.] I can’t… do that again.
[Aubrey can't promise that she'll never turn her back on Sunny again; not when she doesn't know the truth. He clings to her, trying to slow his breathing as best he can. Crying with Xie Lian had been intense enough - he felt as though he'd never stop - but this is different; visceral, violent, mourning.]
I'm sorry...[He shudders with that word, curling in tighter.]
[It isn't...it isn't...Eventually, the truth will have to come out, and then he'll lose her all over again - God, could anyone blame him for not wanting to let it all spill out now? Let him have her while he can, and when they get back home, then...
[He'll think about it then. He tries to breathe. It takes a while for him to stop crying, to let go long enough to try wiping the tears from his soaked face. He's so embarrassed, but...she's here.
[He doesn't want to let go, and he doesn't have the words. He holds onto her again, more loosely this time; he looks all at once exhausted.]
[Somehow, Aubrey’s crying slows before Sunny’s does. That’s okay with her; Sunny pulling away even briefly, just to wipe his tears, sends a panic through her chest. But he comes back. And she can focus better on keeping hold of him if her own vision isn’t blurred.
[It’s late, and she’s drained. They both are.
[Sunny has a couch now. And a pile of stuffed animals. He feels so… frail in her arms. She wonders…]
You’re tired, huh… [It comes out hoarse, almost idle, but Aubrey’s arms around Sunny are still tight. Less desperate, maybe. No less close.]
[The implication almost makes Sunny start crying again. He wipes again at his eyes, this time without having to move all that much from Aubrey's embrace. He shakes his head, stubborn. All he ever does is lie around and fall asleep; or wake up, go somewhere, talk to someone, only to wake back up with no memory of how he got home. He shudders.]
Not yet...[But he does look...and sound...exhausted.]
Hah… all right. [She won’t insist, exactly, but…] I’ll stay here as long as you want, then....
[Even if they’re on the floor. Some semblance of a smile, pained as it may be, tugs at Aubrey. There’s so much to make up for....]
Just… let me know when you want to move. [Sitting in the rain. On a porch. Just through the door of a treehouse. Quiet moments. Maybe she could fall asleep like this.]
[At this, Sunny shuffles slightly where the two are entangled. He tugs at Aubrey's hand, guiding it toward the pile in the corner. He's always thought she might like it; wanted her to be part of it with him on more than one occasion. There's a rabbit in there somewhere that looks just like Bun Bun, he thought.
[Assuming she takes the hint, he'll start crawling over in that direction with her; doesn't really feel like leaving the floor right now.]
[She takes the hint—though, true to form, doesn’t quite include herself. When Sunny starts crawling, Aubrey gives him a tug;] Hold on. Let me try…
[Trailing off, she moves to readjust her hold—gently scooping him by the legs and back, then shuffling to a kneel, ready to stand. The pile isn’t that far away, really, but it seems marginally more dignified than a crawl. (For her. As if her face isn’t red and streaked with dry tears.)]
[Sunny's eyes go wide as he's scooped off of the ground. His arms find their way around Aubrey's neck, and he clings. He's small, but...she seems awfully strong right now anyway.
[Safe. He rests against her as he's carried. That's his answer.]
[He’s small, and—as expected—depressingly light. Sunny hasn’t always been this bony....
[Aubrey shoves the implications aside, for the moment. He’s carried with ease, step by careful step, and she’s slow to set him down on the plush pile. The way he clings to her, rests against her…
[She doesn’t unwrap her arms first, even if it leaves her in an awkward semi-kneel by the edge of the pile. Does he have to let go already…?]
Do you, ah… [There’s a faint, awkward smile.] …want me to stay…?
[Sunny pulls away just enough to look at her. It should be embarrassing, maybe; he still sleeps with stuffed animals, he still can't spit out words, he still needs to be carried by everyone...
[He nods.
[Aubrey. The one he dreams about is nothing like the real thing.]
[She doesn’t think twice about the pile, really. If Mr. Eggplant hadn’t been forgotten at the treehouse four years ago, she’d probably still sleep with him.
[A breathing friend is better.]
[Sunny nods, and Aubrey’s smile warms. She blinks back a fresh round of tears and simply–! flops down next to him, having to let go briefly just to pull off the motion, but curling up on her side shortly after to face him.
[Strong one second, 12 again the next. Aubrey doesn’t say anything, just settling into the plush softness. It’s just like back then…]
[Sunny turns to lay on his side, mirroring her. He tucks his arms up by his chest, his legs at the knees. There's a reason this pile is here, and why he put it together so quickly. It's a comfort - somewhere to go when your bed is either too small or too massive, the room dark, the shadows creeping.
[Does Aubrey really know him at all anymore? He's not even sure he knows himself; more aptly, that there's anything left to know at all.
[He watches her, reaching over to hook their fingers. It really is just like back then.
[More than that, that last night that he remembers; Hero, Kel...
[Basil. He flinches, squeezing their fingers together.]
Aubrey...[His voice is a whisper.] I told you...the truth.
[He used to curl up like this back then, too. But Aubrey would keep her arms full of plush, and Sunny catches her by surprise this time. It’s surprisingly tender—at least until the flinch.
[She frowns slightly even before he talks. At the words her brow furrows. Baffling as the texts have been—and his head wasn’t fucked even back then, was it?—she hasn’t doubted them.
[He’s also told her, if as a split version of himself, that he doesn’t want to be friends. The thought has Aubrey glancing away, idly into the plush pile. But she lets their fingers stay locked.]
[Sunny looks away when she does. He squeezes their fingers together again - off and on as he prepares himself to talk, then actually does it. His feet idly bend too.]
[It feels like it should be obvious, but...no, it really isn't, is it? Because when you love someone, you aren't supposed to leave them behind; after Mari died, everyone separated. Sunny understands why he had to be apart, why Basil did; hell, he almost didn't answer that first day Kel knocked. But Hero went to school, and Kel and Aubrey couldn't get along without him, maybe. Sunny doesn't know.
[It doesn't matter. They're here while they're here, and then they'll be home, and Sunny will be leaving the next morning, and maybe he'll never have said it all. Who knows how long he has left with Aubrey, really?
[Her voice is tight. She looks like she might start crying again.
[Sunny laces their fingers. He wish it were enough - that he could say it all without words.]
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[It takes substantial self-control not to throw her arms around him on sight, but Sunny was never quite a hugger (and really, neither was Aubrey); only with Mari. His sister.m
[Sunny’s arms are closed in upon himself, and Aubrey inadvertently mirrors. He looks smaller than he sounded; pale, undernourished, wiping his eyes. He was a hollow facsiile of himself at church, and she’s hardly seen him since—looked, yes, passed and disregarded, but never seen.
[Aubrey doesn’t know what to say. She shuffles in like an unwilling trespasser.]
H-hey… [The room gets a passing skim, but it’s Sunny she’s trying not to stare at. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—]
You’ve, ah… [Aubrey forces a glance towards the stuffed animals. It wanders idly back to the floor as she talks.] You’ve made it cozy here…
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Are we friends?
[He doesn't want to do this if they aren't friends. He doesn't want to be her nothing anymore, but he doesn't want to be just someone she's hanging onto old loyalty for either. Back in Faraway, it felt as though they had reconciled; maybe they did. There's an urgency to return, suddenly - because Basil is on the other side of that door. Sunny hasn't let himself feel it in two months. None of this was supposed to be real.
[So, how real is what he remembers?
[Are they friends? Or are they just meant to be apart?
[He loves her. It hurts. He doesn't want her to say no; doesn't even want her to hesitate. But he suspects she will.]
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[No hesitation:] Yes.
Yeah. We– We are. If you still…
[If you don’t hate me, like you should. She swallows, hard.]
…want… that.
1/2
2/2
[There are other things to worry about. Sunny doesn't notice that his body has tensed until he feels the tension release; it isn't peace, though. Sunny sinks to the ground and covers his hands with his face. What's happening to him? And through it all, Aubrey - she doesn't know; she's right here.
[He was never the crybaby of the group. He wipes at his eyes, but it's impossible to stop the tears. All at once, he wants to go home. But going home only means going far away anyway. He doesn't know what he wants. He doesn't want anything.
["Then why are you not hungry? Are you even alive?
[Sunny's sobs are only seen, not heard, the way his back jumps and shudders, curled up just like that. There's only one pair of arms he'd like to feel around him.
[He'd take Aubrey's too.]
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[There’s a split second, his face tense in fury, that Aubrey is dead certain she’s fucked up forever. Too hasty. Too desperate. The gall of her, assuming they could be friends again after one conversation, two months, four years—
[Sunny falls. She can’t hear him; she knows exactly what he’s doing. The drop to her knees is immediate; the outreach, delayed for a choked breath—]
Sunny…
[—and without second thought she throws her arms around him. The heave of her chest is audible. Aubrey’s no good at holding back.]
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Au-aubrey-- [He blubbers her name, although it's quiet, curling into her and clinging ever tighter.
[He doesn't want to lose them. Aubrey, Kel, Hero, Basil - please, please, please - not anyone else. He doesn't want them to become old Polaroids. He doesn't want them to leave.]
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[God, but they are both a mess. Aubrey’s never heard Sunny cry this hard; it makes her own sobs worse. But she could stay like this forever if it meant never having to let go of Sunny again, keeping him curled into her, being together. Despite his flash of anger, the way Sunny gasps out her name leaves little to doubt, or so she desperately, desperately hopes.
We’re friends, Sunny… [Pitched high and strained, croaked out between gasps. She pulls him closer, closer, closer, fingers curling tight around him. Don’t break him again.]
We’re friends, and we never should’ve sto— I, I never should’ve turned my back on you. [There she goes again… But it’s necessary this time. It feels necessary. Sunny has never been to blame at all.] I can’t… do that again.
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I'm sorry...[He shudders with that word, curling in tighter.]
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[“Sorry” for what? Grieving? Locking himself away? Staying in his house to rot when no one lifted a finger to check on him?]
[Don’t be, she wants to say. Like it’s ever that easy.
[Instead:] It’s okay… [Like it ever is.]
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[He'll think about it then. He tries to breathe. It takes a while for him to stop crying, to let go long enough to try wiping the tears from his soaked face. He's so embarrassed, but...she's here.
[He doesn't want to let go, and he doesn't have the words. He holds onto her again, more loosely this time; he looks all at once exhausted.]
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[Somehow, Aubrey’s crying slows before Sunny’s does. That’s okay with her; Sunny pulling away even briefly, just to wipe his tears, sends a panic through her chest. But he comes back. And she can focus better on keeping hold of him if her own vision isn’t blurred.
[It’s late, and she’s drained. They both are.
[Sunny has a couch now. And a pile of stuffed animals. He feels so… frail in her arms. She wonders…]
You’re tired, huh… [It comes out hoarse, almost idle, but Aubrey’s arms around Sunny are still tight. Less desperate, maybe. No less close.]
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Not yet...[But he does look...and sound...exhausted.]
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Hah… all right. [She won’t insist, exactly, but…] I’ll stay here as long as you want, then....
[Even if they’re on the floor. Some semblance of a smile, pained as it may be, tugs at Aubrey. There’s so much to make up for....]
Just… let me know when you want to move. [Sitting in the rain. On a porch. Just through the door of a treehouse. Quiet moments. Maybe she could fall asleep like this.]
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[Assuming she takes the hint, he'll start crawling over in that direction with her; doesn't really feel like leaving the floor right now.]
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[She takes the hint—though, true to form, doesn’t quite include herself. When Sunny starts crawling, Aubrey gives him a tug;] Hold on. Let me try…
[Trailing off, she moves to readjust her hold—gently scooping him by the legs and back, then shuffling to a kneel, ready to stand. The pile isn’t that far away, really, but it seems marginally more dignified than a crawl. (For her. As if her face isn’t red and streaked with dry tears.)]
This okay…?
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[Safe. He rests against her as he's carried. That's his answer.]
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[He’s small, and—as expected—depressingly light. Sunny hasn’t always been this bony....
[Aubrey shoves the implications aside, for the moment. He’s carried with ease, step by careful step, and she’s slow to set him down on the plush pile. The way he clings to her, rests against her…
[She doesn’t unwrap her arms first, even if it leaves her in an awkward semi-kneel by the edge of the pile. Does he have to let go already…?]
Do you, ah… [There’s a faint, awkward smile.] …want me to stay…?
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[He nods.
[Aubrey. The one he dreams about is nothing like the real thing.]
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[She doesn’t think twice about the pile, really. If Mr. Eggplant hadn’t been forgotten at the treehouse four years ago, she’d probably still sleep with him.
[A breathing friend is better.]
[Sunny nods, and Aubrey’s smile warms. She blinks back a fresh round of tears and simply–! flops down next to him, having to let go briefly just to pull off the motion, but curling up on her side shortly after to face him.
[Strong one second, 12 again the next. Aubrey doesn’t say anything, just settling into the plush softness. It’s just like back then…]
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[Does Aubrey really know him at all anymore? He's not even sure he knows himself; more aptly, that there's anything left to know at all.
[He watches her, reaching over to hook their fingers. It really is just like back then.
[More than that, that last night that he remembers; Hero, Kel...
[Basil. He flinches, squeezing their fingers together.]
Aubrey...[His voice is a whisper.] I told you...the truth.
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[He used to curl up like this back then, too. But Aubrey would keep her arms full of plush, and Sunny catches her by surprise this time. It’s surprisingly tender—at least until the flinch.
[She frowns slightly even before he talks. At the words her brow furrows. Baffling as the texts have been—and his head wasn’t fucked even back then, was it?—she hasn’t doubted them.
[He’s also told her, if as a split version of himself, that he doesn’t want to be friends. The thought has Aubrey glancing away, idly into the plush pile. But she lets their fingers stay locked.]
About what…?
sunny can have stims as a treat for me
We were friends...again...
The future...
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Ah…
[Hushed.
[Right.
[The future.
[She’s been telling herself it’s different. Different… timeline, different version of the world. And for what?
[“We came back for you.”
[Something in her heart seizes. Aubrey tries to cover her face, but keeps her other hand in Sunny’s. It squeezes, tight. God, not again…]
Why…? [Her voice is tight.] Why would you come back for me…?
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[It feels like it should be obvious, but...no, it really isn't, is it? Because when you love someone, you aren't supposed to leave them behind; after Mari died, everyone separated. Sunny understands why he had to be apart, why Basil did; hell, he almost didn't answer that first day Kel knocked. But Hero went to school, and Kel and Aubrey couldn't get along without him, maybe. Sunny doesn't know.
[It doesn't matter. They're here while they're here, and then they'll be home, and Sunny will be leaving the next morning, and maybe he'll never have said it all. Who knows how long he has left with Aubrey, really?
[Her voice is tight. She looks like she might start crying again.
[Sunny laces their fingers. He wish it were enough - that he could say it all without words.]
We love...each other...
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pretend mewo is aubey
MEWOOOO……
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it’s a shippy icon, officer, but it checks out
oh noooo my hand slipped and completed several steps ohh nooooo
HEWWO!!
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