"Cool, now I'm going to get you living a lot, because we're Tom Sawyering it out to some fucking tree they've found." Sonny gets his shoes off, and Kira hunts down the box he left by the firewood, upgraded from future kindling to a kind of basket.
There's still something wrong, something flat to Sonny, but he can't pick the man open and unspool it. If he's honest, he isn't sure he needs to: it isn't entirely different from his first impression of the man, and there's some irony to the bottle that was in the box when he found it, the same thing he'd been drinking the night they met. A different kind of Sonny after a disaster, one who bounced back with cookies and concern.
Whatever this is, it was always beneath it. If they're lucky, Sonny has just burnt out for awhile, and not gone supernova into a collapse. "We're not coming back until this box is full of peaches," he promises.
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There's still something wrong, something flat to Sonny, but he can't pick the man open and unspool it. If he's honest, he isn't sure he needs to: it isn't entirely different from his first impression of the man, and there's some irony to the bottle that was in the box when he found it, the same thing he'd been drinking the night they met. A different kind of Sonny after a disaster, one who bounced back with cookies and concern.
Whatever this is, it was always beneath it. If they're lucky, Sonny has just burnt out for awhile, and not gone supernova into a collapse. "We're not coming back until this box is full of peaches," he promises.