Re: [Aubade]
He walked over to the rail, picking the binoculars up with a nod of thanks. It took some adjusting to get the focus to work, but once he did he only looked for a moment before dropping them again. He wasn't shaken, but his jaw was tight with anger and pity. "Jesus."
He set the binoculars down, glancing up at his new companion out on the veranda. "There's no recovery either way," he said, grim, eying him. He was curiously detached from all of this, like it was just a puzzle. "The impetus to what? Hurt those kids?"
"Cassidy. Cass," he corrected immediately. No one ever called him Cassidy aside from his parents, and the memory came up unbidden. Strange, what reminded you of things. "And I yours." He was cordial even if his voice was a little tight. He'd gone right back to thinking about the bodies down below, though he wasn't looking over the rail anymore.