Here, in the dark, he's beautiful. 

The light of the moon shadows his face and the soft sweep of hair on his forehead is devastating.

He breathes softly next to me. I count as his chest moves and I long t join him in sleep. 

He is beautiful in the dark.

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The embodiment of perfect, the literal meaning of the word. 

Entrancing. 

He becomes Sunshine as he wakes. 

Justin, a broken boy, left behind in the darkness. Left alone with the nightmares. 

He smiles at me in the mirror. 

Sunshine.

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He wants to visit the beach, wants to lay in the sand and roll with the waves. 

To break away for Pittsburgh and fly into the sunset with nothing but his faith in the wind to hold him. 

Carefree and happy, I wish I could deny him. 

He asks for a summer holiday, so when the snow melts and the roads defrost, we'll go.

For now he leans against me as we walk, a dream in his eyes as he stumbles on his tired feet, down the steps of the diner and towards the car.

He hums a simple song.

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His voice sounds rusty on the phone, I hear the sleep he is craving, feel the ghost of his warm body against my side.

I'll be home soon.

He shuffles around before the call ends, and I hope he stays awake long enough to greet me. 

His lips against my own, touching gently as he sighs. The both of us, coming home, together.

My heart flutters at the thought. 

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I listen to him breathing, here in the darkness. 

Wait, for the inevitable nightmare, the gasp and the scream. 

The moans of pain and the crying as he shakes in my arms. 

Tonight marks eight years and it still haunts us both.

I avoid sleep, for him. Because he will need me now. 

Justin will need me until Sunshine returns. 

Bright and early tomorrow morning, when we both bury the pain, go about our days and cling to each other in the night hours as the horror haunts us again. 

In his dreams.

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