Sunny's busy cooking dinner when she hears it.
It's music. It's muffled and faint but sounds haunting and beautiful and seems to be coming from everywhere all at once.
She sets the stove on low and then follows the music.
As she gets closer to the source, she realizes it's coming from Mr. Snicket's room. She and her siblings and Beatrice have been living with the enigmatic writer for a few months now.
Sunny listens closer and discovers that the instrument being played is an accordion. She always thought the accordion sounded silly and screechy—like someone was screaming. Her family—back when Sunny was only a few weeks old—took a trip to the fair once and she vividly remembers seeing a clown playing the accordion.
This doesn't sound like the clown at the fair. She had wanted to get as far as possible from the clown. She wants to get closer to this music.
Especially when he starts singing.
His baritone voice rings out over the sound of the accordion:
I've seen you laugh
At nothing at all
I've seen you sadly weeping
The sweetest thing I ever saw
Was you asleep and dreaming
She quietly opens the door and uses her small size to her advantage as she sneaks into the room.
He doesn't turn around or even notice that the door has been cracked open. He's engrossed in his song and she sits and listens.
It's dark in his room, as if he's memorized the feel of the instrument so well that he can play with his eyes closed.
The orphans don't know much about this mysterious writer who's been researching their lives. He mostly stays in his room when he's home—not because he's rude, but seemingly because he's been alone for so long that he doesn't quite know how to interact with fellow human beings anymore. Sunny hopes that changes.
She's never seen him this relaxed as he plays and sings. It's like he's somewhere far away from this cramped apartment.
I've seen you when
Your ship came in
And when your train was leaving
The sweetest thing I ever saw
Was you asleep and dreaming
As he finishes his song, she can't stop herself from clapping enthusiastically and the room is suddenly filled with a loud shriek from the accordion as Mr. Snicket jumps at the intrusion.
"Sorry!" Sunny is quick to apologize.
He turns towards her but doesn't look at her. "I, uh, didn't realize anyone was home." Violet and Klaus are out for a walk with Beatrice to the store.
"I was making dinner," Sunny explains.
There's an uncomfortable pause as the awkward writer busies himself with putting the accordion back in its case. Finally, Sunny says, "That song was lovely."
Mr. Snicket cracks a small smile, though he still refuses to meet her eye. "Thank you." His voice is so quiet that she almost can't hear him.
"Did you write it?"
He pauses what he's doing for a long moment—as if debating with himself on what he should tell her. Finally, he looks directly at her and says, "Yes. I wrote it for your mother, actually."
He's honestly not sure why he's telling this small human any of this. It's his burden to carry. He's not sure what the orphans have figured out about his relationship to their mother. They may not know any of it—and that makes him feel guilty for telling Sunny anything.
She surprises him by smiling. "You loved my mother very much, didn't you?"
He chokes back a sob and sits down on the floor near the littlest Baudelaire sibling. "Yes, I loved her very, very much."
There's a long silence before Sunny says, "Can you tell me about her?"
He suddenly becomes very interested in the floor. "What did you want to know?" He's surprised he's not stuttering he's so skittish.
"How did you meet her?"
"We were in V.F.D together. Your father too. I, uh, may have embarrassed her when I first spoke to her. I've never been very good at talking to people." He hazards a glance at Sunny before continuing in a rush, "But she did agree to go out for root beer floats so I must have done something right." He laughs nervously.
Sunny is listening so intently. He's afraid of saying something wrong. He's surprised how easy it is to talk about this. He feels lighter somehow. It feels wrong.
"How old were you?" She asks. She's so eloquent and has seen so much that it's easy to forget that the youngest Baudelaire sibling is only five years old.
He clears his throat unnecessarily. "I was eleven. She was ten."
"Did you ever tell her you liked her?"
He smiles faintly. "Yes. She made the first move. I was too scared. But we started dating when we were sixteen and fifteen respectively."
"And the song?"
This is the hard part and he chokes back another sob. "I played it when I proposed to her."
"Oh."
He's done nothing wrong. Beatrice was with him long before she was with Sunny's father. So why does he still feel like a criminal?
"Do... do you mind me asking why it didn't work out?"
He remembers the 200-page book currently sitting under his bed. There were so many reasons. Where would he even start?
He's startled out of his thoughts when Sunny touches his face.
She's wiping tears away.
He hadn't realized he was crying.
"I'm sorry for upsetting you, Mr. Snicket."
He shakes his head vigorously. It's not her fault. Why can't he stop shaking?
It's almost comical, really. Here he is, sitting on the floor sobbing his eyes out being comforted by a five-year-old. He's so tall, even sitting down, that she still has to stand on tiptoe to reach his face.
But he can't find the energy to care as he cries on little Sunny Baudelaire's shoulder.
She almost panics when he starts crying. She hadn't meant to upset him.
But Sunny ignores that feeling and rushes to comfort him. She's had more than her fair share of tears and knows how cathartic it can be. Mr. Snicket needs to cry.
It's clear to her that the awkward writer has been keeping these feelings hidden for a very long time.
He gives a pitiful, "I'm sorry. You don't need to do this."
She shushes him gently and hugs him tightly.
She's glad he's opening up to her.
Finally, he pulls back and swipes furiously at his tears. He takes a deep shuddering breath. "Thank you." He produces a handkerchief from his pocket and blows his nose.
"Feel better?" She asks with a small smile.
He shrugs and then nods. "A little." She can't help but notice that he still has a hard time looking at her.
She wonders what happened to him to break him so completely.
He shouldn't have told her anything. She's still so pure and innocent despite everything she's seen. She doesn't need to hear about his own tragic history.
So why can't he stop talking? Why is he telling her about the book? Why is he telling her about every single crime he's been falsely accused of and the various crimes he's actually committed in the name of V.F.D? What purpose does telling her about his failed engagement serve other than to add more unnecessary misery to the world?
He barely registers her rubbing his back gently as he tells her about his old associates and his childhood and his siblings and Beatrice and how much he hates himself for not being able to help the orphans and instead just follow them and document their misery. He was supposed to help Beatrice's children and he failed.
She stops him right there. "You did not fail us, Mr. Snicket!" She says pointedly. "We wouldn't be who we are without those experiences so don't you dare think that you failed us."
He's stunned into silence and can only nod weakly.
She continues in a gentler tone of voice. "You're not alone, you know. We're your family now."
He feels like he's going to cry again. He had dreamed of starting a family with Beatrice and now here all her children were, living with him in this cramped apartment in the city and he doesn't even know how to interact with them.
"I'm glad you told me these things," Sunny says. "I think you've needed to let it all out for a long time." He marvels at how perceptive she is.
He laughs hollowly. "You're probably right." He suddenly feels exhausted.
Sunny can tell. "I'm going to finish making dinner. Why don't you take a nap? Feel free to join us but you don't have to."
She kisses him on the forehead—the way a mother kisses a crying child—and then disappears as stealthily as she appeared.
Despite his exhaustion, he feels... lighter. Less bogged down by the crushing weight of his secrets.
He sighs and looks at his bed and then down at the floor where he's sitting.
He opts to sleep on the floor.
Violet and Klaus are sitting on the floor of the living room playing with Beatrice when Sunny comes out of the writer's bedroom.
"We were wondering where you were," Violet says.
Sunny puts her finger to her lips. "Shhh... He's sleeping." Mr. Snicket needs a nap after that emotional upheaval.
She walks back to the kitchen—where the pot on the stove is simmering quietly. She climbs onto the big overturned pot on the ground that she uses to reach the stove and various cabinets and works on finishing dinner.
An hour later, her siblings wander into the dining space and help their baby sister set the table. She hasn't said a word about what she was doing in Mr. Snicket's room. They know practically nothing about him—even with Klaus's extensive researching skills. They barely even see him. He's either in his room or outside the apartment trying to track down his still living associates.
Sunny's setting an extra place at the table and her siblings notice. "He'll come out," she says confidently, referring to the awkward writer.
Violet and Klaus look at each other. Mr. Snicket has never joined them for dinner in the time they've been living with him but they don't question Sunny's decision and instead fetch Beatrice from the living room and settle down at the table for dinner.
It's not until everyone is almost finished with their food that they hear a door open and then close. A hush falls over the table and the Baudelaires look up to see Mr. Snicket shuffle into the dining space. He refuses to make eye contact with anyone and doesn't say a word as he sits down and begins to eat but Sunny can't help but smile.
It may be weeks or even months before Mr. Snicket feels comfortable talking to anyone else in the apartment and it will take even longer for him to feel comfortable enough to play his beautiful music in front of an audience but it's a small step. And that's how she knows he's going to be okay.
A/N: Hello dear readers, whoever you may be! So, I recently did a reread of the entire series in preparation for the new Netflix series, which led to reading a lot of fanfiction. And I'm 99% sure I'm the only person to have written about any sort of relationship between these characters but it honestly feels so natural to me. This whole idea started with this mental image of Lemony and Sunny having a very serious in-depth discussion, even with Sunny's baby talk. Point being, I think they could end up being pretty close, if Lemony ever finds them.
This obviously doesn't quite follow canon since Beatrice hasn't gotten separated from them and it's only been a few years after the series ended. The song used is a real one, by the Magnetic Fields, called "Asleep and Dreaming" and Daniel Handler does actually play accordion on it. And it's beautiful and has honestly inspired so many of my fanfics up to this point. You should definitely check it out. He also plays on the song that is the title of this fic, btw. Feedback is very much appreciated, especially with such new territory as this!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of this! I am not the elusive Lemony Snicket. I only aspire to write as well as him. Stephin Merritt is the genius behind the song Lemony plays!