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[sadpoem]

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[sadpoem]

[Sunny's fingertips lightly flutter over Aubrey's jaw like he's playing a harp. He kisses her. He kisses her. He brushes their noses together, and it's better than any dream. Why keep sleeping?]

I'd...wake up...for you...

[headhooligan]

Heh… good. [Maybe a bit forward—there really is no pressure. But she can’t help herself.

[One more kiss, lightly pressing their noses, and then;]

What do you want to do today? [It’s all theirs.]

[sadpoem]

[Sunny's quiet, though he feels like he won't stay that way, which is odd. He takes Aubrey's hands in his, idly playing with her fingers. Right before he opens his mouth to talk, he takes her hand, squeezing, releasing...]

I'm...not sure what...to do now...

[headhooligan]

[He spends so much time in this house. It’s always a surprise when he’s not in it, though more often than not, he’s just with Kenma—or off having his adventures. Aubrey can’t pretend to know the details.

[She’d like to, though.

[A few ideas run through her head—squeezing, releasing—but there’s no point in overwhelming. They just woke up.]

For now… [A small hum, light.] …I can get you breakfast? [Eren’s delivery is probably at the door.

[Aubrey’s not moving before Sunny, though.]

cw: eating issues discussed

[sadpoem]

[He could eat, he thinks.

[It feels wrong. He's thinking of Mari more than ever. He doesn't deserve to eat when she can't - that's really what it's come down to, all these years. Everything he tastes, he wonders what she'd think.

[Still - he could eat, he thinks.

[So, he nods, pushing himself up. He'll follow her.]

[headhooligan]

[It feels like they haven’t moved for hours, maybe longer. Still, Aubrey has her routine: up, stretch, door, delivery, kitchen… Lately she hasn’t been able to leave it out wherever he’s sleeping, lest the cat eat it.

[She’s got her hand on an upper cabinet, remembers it’s different today, and looks back over to Sunny. Wordlessly hands him the food, instead.]

[sadpoem]

[The way Aubrey jumps right into her routine, it's impossible not to notice what Sunny has, thus far, missed, too busy sleeping. Aubrey's cared for him. He knows that, but...he sees it in action now - feels it in every cell.

[She didn't run away. He told her the impossible, and she's still here. She knows. She doesn't hate him.

[He still believes he deserves to be hated, but...of course - of course - he's grateful that he's not.

[He takes the food, curling up on the couch with his legs tucked under himself. He eats. It has taste...

[How can he feel so light?

[He watches Aubrey, waiting for her to sit down too. The world is calm; sharp, but calm.]

It's good...

[headhooligan]

[Sunny curls up on the couch, and Aubrey joins him with some leftovers. She nods, chewing. It’s good to see him eating for himself. Omori usually takes care of that....

[It’s calm. The quiet is comfortable. Idly Aubrey scans the room, appreciating how the morning light dances about. Not every day she’s in here at this hour. It’s nice....

[His phone is in the corner. Her eyes linger there for a moment, and then she takes another forkful before the frown can settle. Later.]

[sadpoem]

[Sunny is more observant than people give him credit for - more perceptive. He sees where Aubrey's eyes linger, recalling at once what led to a much different conversation than he ever could have expected.

[Anxiety seizes his heart. Dropping his fork, he takes Aubrey's hand and squeezes it before he can stop himself.

[Basil...

[Sunny swallows with a dry throat. Aubrey's right here...]

B-basil...

[headhooligan]

[Sunny’s fork drops, and food is set aside immediately. Aubrey clasps his hand, watching him.

[“Back home…”

[She nods, squeezing, releasing, squeezing. Basil’s not here. Sunny can tell her what he wants her to know.]

[sadpoem]

[It's the opposite. His voice comes out weak, nearly pleading.]

Do...do you know?

[headhooligan]

[She pauses. Almost shakes her head, but;]

I don’t know what he said to you.

[sadpoem]

[Sunny cringes, looking not unlike he might get sick. He squeezes her hand.

[There's nothing left to hide, is there? Or is there...

[He thinks of his dreams - only flashes - Basil, bleeding, crushed, dismembered, headless...]

I hurt him. [Sunny's words are choked, but he isn't crying.] In...the future...maybe...

The...hospital...

[headhooligan]

[Aubrey leans forward, still squeezing, releasing…

[No one else is here. It feels like they’re sharing a secret anyway. Maybe Aubrey can’t get mad at them, when she’s about to…]

Kel… has told me about the future. [It feels like a lie, not to share how much. Only if Sunny wants to hear it....] I know it’s not just you.

[sadpoem]

[He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to hear it. He never asked Kel to tell him about the future, because he couldn't picture a bright one, and now he knows that it's dark, dark, dark. He doesn't know exactly what Aubrey means, but--

[He doesn't want to know.

[He grips Aubrey's hand - tight.]

Please...

Tell me...

[headhooligan]

[It’s not fair.]

Everything…?

[It’s not goddamn fair.]

[sadpoem]

[Sunny feels a terrible, terrible weight settle back on his shoulders, even worse than that of the last four years. With one arm - the mangled one - he hugs himself, eyes dropping to his lap. He keeps hold of Aubrey's hand with the other.

[Everything...?

[How much does she know? Kel acted like everything was fine, but...

[He can only expect the worst. Kel might be a liar...

[Sunny nods; weak, miserable.]

Yes...

[headhooligan]

[All at once, she hates Kel, actually. Sunny’s trauma wasn’t his to tell. Maybe the same could be said for Basil, but that’s different—it’s always different, with Basil. Both of them—all of them, from points in time only days yet too far apart.

[It’s not their fault. They should have someone. Hell, Aubrey could’ve hounded them into telling, under different circumstances, but it’s happened the way it’s happened, and she hates this for Sunny, and—

[Sunny’s here. He agrees. It’s not fair to him to hold back.]

I know that… during the sleepover, you and Basil fight. [He’s not looking, and Aubrey’s expression has pulled tense with twisted, churning emotion. She speaks slow; has to force it.] Kel’s not sure why—neither of us are.

I know that puts you in the hospital; both of you. And in that future…

[She squeezes. Doesn’t release; but if Sunny does, then…]

…you tell us that Mari… didn’t kill herself. And that Basil covered for it.

[I’m sorry.]

[sadpoem]

[Sunny is quiet for a long moment. "You knew?" is certainly a question, though there's no use in asking for it. He isn't angry. He isn't...

[He squeezes her hand. Exactly two little tears drip between their legs, Sunny's head still hung; there's no sound to it, really.

[More silent moments pass. It might seem as though he's considering what to say, but it's not that. He can't think of anything to say until, quite simply - softly, softly:]

I don't hate him...

[He doesn't...]

I love him. [Sunny shakes his head; his body sways with it, nauseated.] It's not his fault...

[Mari. The hospital. None of it. Sunny made a mistake. Basil defended himself. That's it...]

[headhooligan]

[Sunny, Aubrey thinks, is a vastly more gracious person than she ever will be.

[There’s a jealous itch, despite it all. “My best friend.” She remembers last night, and it’s a balm; remembers what happens when she lets her ego block him out, period.

[He’s talking. Focus....
[He wailed so miserably.

[Aubrey reaches just one hand forward, brushing his cheek. She doesn’t make him look up.]

Alright....

[That’s all she has, for now. How he feels is his call.]

[sadpoem]

[Conversation over, then, but for once, it doesn't feel like it should end with his discomfort. Aubrey must have feelings about it - feelings about all of it. There have been times in the past - the recent past, even, thinking of home - that Aubrey, Kel, even Hero, have all said things that Sunny wishes they hadn't - not in front of him. Selfishly, he'd felt hurt that they didn't consider their words, though it was quickly replaced by shame - disgust that he'd ever condemn them for hating what he did...

[He hasn't wanted to hear it, is all. But Aubrey listened to him, and she didn't run away. He squeezes her hand. He lifts his head.

[Softly:] You can tell me...

[headhooligan]

[Her palm stays, cupping, gentle. The face Aubrey is making is pained, softly; it’s difficult to shake the feeling she’s told him too much already. Kel won’t be happy about this—any of it, she imagines.]

I’m not… sure what’s left to say.

[And yet…

[She swallows. Finds her eyes trailing down, as she talks, at their united, squeezing hands.]

Basil and I… we’re not friends, right now. I know he wants to be. And I don’t think he knows that I know.

[Why would he tell Sunny about the hospital?]

But I can try… to be there for him, too.

[sadpoem]

[At this, Sunny has to avert his eyes again. He swallows hard. Aubrey does everything for him, but...she will have to do this too. If she's offering, he can't deny her. Somewhere, he knows it's what she'd do anyway, despite everything. In this place? She would...]

I can't...go near him.

I...kn-know...I'll hurt...him...

[Aside from that...]

He doesn't know. [Of that, Sunny is certain.

[He would have told him. Or he would have broken down.]

[headhooligan]

[Ah.

[There’s a non-small part of Aubrey that doubts it, the idea of Sunny hurting anyone on purpose. Even Omori, outside dreams, was quick to heal; they both have that power.

[Still. Sunny may love Basil, but Aubrey knows damn well what can happen when feelings come out the wrong way. Hell, he’d know that better than anyone....]

Then… I can keep him away. [Steadier than she feels. It’s going to hurt.] And if he’s near you—call me. [It’s going to hurt. Treating Basil like a danger—but is that really new?]

And when those feelings need to come out… I’ll be there for that, too. [It will hurt....]

[sadpoem]

[It feels like every part of Sunny's body squeezes. He squeezes her hand, and releases. He curls in on himself. He shakes his head.]

I don't hate him...

[He doesn't.]

I don't...