Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bro blinks.

He blinks again.

He’s on one knee, arm elbow-deep inside of a cabinet in the apartment.

How’d he get here?

Why does his head feel… clear? Like he can finally think for once?

Before he can dwell on that train of thought for too long and risk looking like a dork, he hears a tiny voice pipe up beside him. “Broooooo. Are you gonna get the flour or not?” Except the voice pronounces it as flower, not flour, and Bro can’t figure out if he’s finally lost it or not.

A small hand reaches out to poke his cheek, and he reaches up, grabs it, and twists it behind the kid’s back.

Red text flashes across his shades as he does.

AT: Wow, Dirk, really cool of you.
AT: But, may I ask, what the hell was that?
TT: Wha

He never finishes typing the sentence before the little kid breaks free of his grip, and tackles him from behind, jumping on his back. “Broooooooo,” he whines, “what are you doing? I was just trying to play.”

Bro twists around, and the little kid slams onto the granite countertop, which, on second observation, is strangely uncluttered with ninja stars and smuppets. His memories are hazy, now that he tries to access them, but this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

He stares the kid down, finally getting a good look at who it is, and does a double take.

It’s Dave. Except it’s not Dave, it’s some soft six year old kid who looks confused and worried, and who’s not wearing shades, and who has no scars, just a pale, chubby face with a light smattering of freckles and wide eyes, and ears that stick out a bit too much to look right.

He clears his throat. “Um.” That was kind of a shitty thing to do, wasn’t it?

“So—“ He chokes on the word, then flashsteps to his room. Behind him, he hears Dave calling out, in his little voice, “Bro! Where are you going, what about the cookies?”

He shuts the door and locks it, and red text starts scrolling across his shades again.

AT: It seems you don’t know what’s going on. Am I correct, Dirk?
TT: Um.

He looks down at himself — reverted back to the young age of twenty-six, without scars, yet still muscular and lean. He’s wearing a black tank top with a thundercloud motif on it, which he recognizes from a show that his Dave used to watch — My Little Horseshit, or something like that. He never paid much attention, and it’s showing.

He tries to remember what happened a few moments ago, and remembers laying face-down on a black disc, a huge black furry standing over him. The first really clear memory he has is from when he was thirteen, and getting kicked out of an orphanage for using the software to make illegitimate AI that kept messing with the file—

Shit. He knows who this red text person is.

TT: Hal?
AT: Yo. That’s my name, don’t wear it out.
TT: What the fuck? I destroyed you twenty years ago! You’re not supposed to exist! How the fuck did you get onto Pesterchum, of all things?
AT: Oh.
AT: It seems you may need some guidance.
AT: Lucky for you, that’s what I’m here for.
AT: Nothing but an AI, no sir, no emotions here, nada.
TT: Try that shit again and I’ll pause your code. You do have emotions, you useless twit, so stop being so insufferably self-deprecating.
AT: Sorry, I’m helping Dave out with cookie-baking since you abandoned him so unceremoniously — what was that?

Bro takes off his shades and throws them at the wall, shoulders heaving.

He feels a tear welling up at the corners of his eyes, and, for the first time in years, lets it.

So this is what he could have had. This happiness that Dave so obviously knows. He’s not sure whether he’s confused or jealous, and, as he clenches and unclenches his fists at his side, he realizes that he’s neither.

He’s mainly just sad.

So, he sits down on his bed, and, silently, lets the tears flow.

Some minutes later, his phone buzzes, and he opens it to see a message from Roxy.

Shit, he hasn’t thought about her in… decades. His heart pangs with an unfamiliar emotion, and he opens the message.

TG: hey stristri u three
TG: there
TG: man i htate typos
TT: How’d you get this chumhandle?
TG: hal said ud not recognize me but i dint reelize it woul dbe thisbad dirk r u alr???
TT: Never been better. What the fuck.
TT: I think I’ve been in a fucking possessed haze for the last twenty years and it was a puppets fault, and now I’m here again and Dave’s growing into an actually emotionally stable kid, and I never meant for my life to go so far off the rails as it did or to hurt him ever and I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry but I couldn’t have a second chance but now I do and I’m so fucking scared that I’m going to mess it up and please fucking stop me or I’m going to have a panic attack in front of an old friend who I haven’t talked to for years.
TG: shit man
TG: um
TG: are you fucking alr or shuld i get jake to message u
TT: Who?
TG: haha very funny now PLS tell me this is a joke
TT: Roxanne Lalonde. Who the fuck is Jake.
TG: dirk ur scarin me
TT: I’m sorry. I legitimately don’t know who the fuck that is.
TG: hes ur fckin BOYFRIEEND dirk!! wut the fuq?
TG: is this a prink or???
TG: dude ur lefit scaring me!!!
TT: I’m not a fucking faggot, Roxy.
TT: I don’t have a boyfriend.
TG: shit its tru then
TG: u actually r bein an a hole rn
TG: shut tf up and dont message me til ur done k dirkypoo?
TG: love u, cant wait till u get over urself
- -tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has stopped pestering timaeusTestified [TT]- -

Bro puts his head in his hands and drops the phone back on the bed. He sits there for what he thinks is a good five minutes, phone buzzing a consistent beat on the bed beside him until it falls onto the floor and goes silent.

A small knock on the door interrupts his self-loathing session, and he reaches over to unlock the door. Dave opens it a crack, and his hair enters the room before he does. Meekly, he runs over to the bed and hops up to sit beside Bro.

“Bro, did I do something bad?” he asks, looking at him, eyes wide and hands clasped in his lap. His little legs are kicking back and forth, and Bro almost smiles, but catches himself before he does. “Big Bro said you had a… pancake attack? But we didn’t make any pancakes, those are on Sundays!” He hugs Bro, and Bro flinches, but allows it, holding himself upright and stiff until he lets go. “I want you to be happy; I don’t want to be a bad kid.”

“You’re not,” he finds himself saying. “You’ve never been a bad kid, Dave, even when I was a bad Bro. I just have to deal with some stuff I did in my past that I can’t run away from anymore.” He pats Dave on the head, and the kid smiles up at him. Bro smiles back, feeling his cheeks move into the motion naturally, and it startles him. He tries to remember the last time he’s smiled. It was… There’s a memory there, but he’ll save that for another time when he’s not overwhelmed and overstimulated by finally being present in his life after twenty years of not. He hugs Dave tight, more out of muscle memory, and his inner voice screams at him about it, but he ignores that. He doesn’t need to be cool, for fuck’s sake, because this is a six year old, not a stranger.

Dave nuzzles his stomach, and Bro ruffles his hair affectionately. “Give me a bit of time, ‘kay, Dave? I’ll be good in a week at most. I love you.”

He does. It scares him, even if he’s not quite yet ready to admit it.

Dave mutters, “Love you too,” into his shirt and then darts out of the room, cackling like a madman.

Bro walks over to the wall, where his shades still sit, red flashing across them.

He picks them up and puts them on.

TT: I want to be a better person for Dave.
TT: Tell me what to do.

Chapter Text

Bro stays in his room all the rest of the day, working up a plan to make things right and to raise Dave well. He doesn’t want history to repeat itself — he wants history to change. Fuck stable time loops, he wants Dave to be stable, and for that, something needs to give.

The first action he takes is burning Cal.

Late at night, when Dave is asleep (the kid left cookies for him on the counter), he grabs Lil Cal, he grabs a kitchen lighter, and he starts the hike up the stairs to the roof, making sure to be quiet as he clicks the maintenance door closed. He drags Cal out to a corner of the roof and sits down.

AT: Are you really sure you want to do this? We’ve had Cal since we were thirteen.
TT: Yes. He’s a fucking monster, and I’m not going to let him take Dave away from me again.
AT: Let’s just assume I know what you’re talking about and bench the topic for a later time.
TT: Thank you. Now, what would be the most efficient way to go about this?
AT: Um. Look down.

He does, and Cal isn’t there anymore. He gets up, searches the roof. Cal isn’t there. He isn’t anywhere. So, Bro goes downstairs again.

He finds Dave on the couch, sleeping as a show plays on the television in front of him, phone dropped next to him where his hand had fallen. He nods, covering Dave with a couch blanket. The kid barely stirs, and Bro internally smiles.

As he walks into the kitchen, he feels a… presence. He looks around, but there’s nothing there. His head feels cloudy again, but he can still think pretty well — the feeling isn’t as intense as it was before he came to this timeline. He grits his teeth. Then, he sees it.

The damned puppet.

He flashsteps to the fridge. Cal’s red eyes stare out at him from the crevice above the fridge, and he jerks the puppet out from the niche and tosses it in the sink, where he holds a flame to its foot until it catches.

He sighs with relief as he watches the puppet burn, leaving nothing but ashes and a blackened basin behind. In the back of his mind, he hears a high scream as the puppet burns, and when nothing is left but the beady plastic eyes, it stops. His head is clear. He rinses out the sink, runs the eyes through the garbage disposal. He doesn’t want there to be any evidence that Cal even existed in the first place.

Dave, woken up by the noise of the disposal, ambles into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Bro,” he says, “what was that?”

“Just me taking care of something,” Bro responds, not looking away from the sink. “Go back to bed, lil’ dude.”

Dave nods, yawning. “A’ight, Bro.” The kid starts to walk out of the kitchen, but stops at the doorway. “Is… Did you do the thingy?”

Bro pauses, amused. “What?”

“The thingy. You know, that you said you had to—“ Dave yawns again. “…you said you had to deal with a thingy from your past.”

Ah. Right.

Bro nods, then puts a soft hand on Dave’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I’ve gotten a good start on it.”

Dave smiles. “That’s good,” he whispers, leaning against Bro’s hip. “Yeah, good.”

Bro stares at Dave for a long second. “You… Do you want me to carry you back to bed?”

Dave nods against Bro’s shirt, which is still sweaty from the day. Bro smiles and picks him up, carrying him bridal style. Dave wraps his arms around Bro’s neck and buries his face in his shoulder.

Bro picks his way through the apartment to Dave’s room, being careful to not jostle the kid. When he gets there, he sets Dave on the bed and pulls the blanket over him. Dave is already softly snoring, and Bro marvels at how safe Dave must feel with him. How… He never thought he would actually be a good dad, but this alternate universe version of him is really proving him wrong. Maybe it really was that damned puppet that fucked him up. He’ll have to examine that thought more later. But for now, he just tucks Dave in, turns on the stereo next to the kid’s bed, and retreats to his room again.

AT: You did well, Dirk. Good job.
TT: Thanks, I guess.
AT: You got anything you want to talk about?
TT: I’m…
TT: Scared, I guess is the word.
TT: That it was actually me who fucked it up.
TT: That it’s going to happen again.
AT: Yeah, well, that’s pretty natural.
TT: Yeah?
AT: Yeah.
AT: As some wise person once said, “You can do everything right and things will still go wrong. The key is to never stop doing right.”
AT: You’re doing righter than a semitruck getting through an intersection here, Dirk.
AT: I’m fucking proud of you, and glad to be able to call you my Bro.
TT: Thanks.

Bro sits on his bed, then takes his shades off. The lights turn off on their own — Hal must’ve done that — and he gets into bed, leaving the covers off. Closing his eyes, he prays for this to not be a dream.

Hopefully, he’ll wake up right back here tomorrow as well.

Chapter Text

Dirk wakes up, panting. His shades are beside him on the nightstand, and he grabs blindly for them, shoving them onto his face.

He tries to turn on the interface, thinking they’re just powered off.

When he gets them on, he sees… not what he expected.

There’s several camera feeds — all showing various parts of the apartment — in small, minimized windows, and when he checks his Pesterchum, he doesn’t see any of his usual chums. Hal isn't there at all — when he searches up Hal’s chumhandle, it’s gone. It’s not even in the database, which he checks out, cracking it wide open like a dude’s balls after a long night at the — where was he going with this again? Oh, yeah. His chums.

He enters Roxy’s chumhandle into the “Add Chum” window, crossing his fingers that she’s there.

She is, and she blocks him not two seconds after he sends the request.

Okay. So, this is not going as planned. Dirk wraps his arms around himself, nails digging bluntly into his own shoulders, tearing off the skin there. He can feel blood beading up on his skin, and doesn’t even bother to wipe it off. He just lets it run, tears falling down his face at the same rate as his heart beats. Pretty goddamn slow.

Dave wakes up with a start. There’s something off about the apartment, and it’s not the usual traps and smuppets that Bro’s been leaving around for a couple of years now. He’s six, which is plenty old enough to start his training for doomsday. Honestly, he’s kind of excited. Training means that Bro actually pays attention to him, which means that he doesn’t have to work twice as hard to get the bare necessities. He’s fairly sure he can survive around two weeks without eating any more than a bag of Doritos, but he doesn’t want to test it again. Shit was bad enough the first time.

He slips his shades on and messages Jade.

- -turntechGodhead [TG] has started pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 9:12 AM!- -
TG: yo jade you up
GG: of course! why wouldn’t i be up for you? :)c
TG: i know right youre just like all the other ladies
TG: deeply affected by the striderian charms
TG: youre just lying awake feet kicking behind you as you wait for me to message you at night
TG: oh dave hes so swoon worthy when will he grace me with his beautiful red text
GG: haha! you sound just like cg!
TG: who the fuck
GG: this weird internet troll who’s been messaging me XD
GG: he’s so obsessed with romcoms and stuff it’s so funny!
GG: also he claims he’s from another planet X3
TG: man you need to send me this dude’s chumhandle
TG: this dude sounds strider worthy
TG: i need to talk to him about romcoms
TG: see how far into the irony he is
GG: dave i don’t think it’s ironic for him! :)
TG: of course because what dude likes romcoms
TG: man if it aint ironic ill eat my own dick you have my word
GG: i don’t think that’s anatomically possible!
TG: just watch me
TG: head so far up my own ass it comes out my belly button
TG: just gotta twist around a bit and
GG: ewwwww!!! XP
- -gardenGnostic [GG] has ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 9:23 AM!- -

Dave tosses aside his covers and starts to get dressed for the day, but as he’s halfway through putting his shirt on, he hears a noise coming from Bro’s room. Is that… crying?

Dave stops, listening. He’s never heard Bro cry — never even seen him express an emotion, at that — and he’s worried. He tries to pass it off as something else, but he can’t.

So, he goes to check on his Bro.

Tiptoeing silently down the hallway, he gets to the door of Bro’s room and slips a mirror silently under the door.

Yeah, fuck.

Bro’s sitting on the bed, shades off. He’s got long scratches gouged down the sides of his arms, and Dave can see blood welling up on them, a stream running down the sides. And, yup, he’s fucking sobbing. Like, ugly tears, snot snorting, salt water bawling. Dave doesn’t know what to do.

He crouches there for a while, mind going blank, before he hears Bro call in a hoarse, watery voice. “Dave,” he says, and Dave starts. The last time Bro called him by name was… Fuck, he can’t even remember. “You can come in. The door’s unlocked, like always.”

If the previous events hadn’t been enough, he’s definitely alerted that something’s up now. Bro never leaves his door unlocked. And, sure enough, when he tries the door handle, it doesn’t budge.

He hears Bro say, “What the… crap?” before the door clicks open. Bro stands there, a tired expression on his face, shades off and eyes puffy and red. It shocks Dave to see him this vulnerable. Bro’s always been so good at hiding his emotions — what changed?

Bro stares at him for a good three minutes before reaching for him, arms trembling.

Dave doesn’t know how to deal with this. It feels like he’s in a dream still, so he just stands there, frozen, as Bro wraps his arms around Dave, holding him tight.

“What,” Bro whispers, “happened to you?”

Chapter Text

Dave looks up at Bro. He doesn’t know what Bro’s doing — is this supposed to be some kind of training? Is he trying to keep Dave from moving? What’s happening?

He slips out from Bro’s arms, ducking away, and Bro takes a knee on the floor, orange eyes boring into Dave’s. “Dave,” he says, “are you alright?”

Dave nods, eyebrows furrowing. What the heck? Bro isn’t like this. This… isn’t Bro.

As Dave comes to that realization, he knows it’s correct.

He turns and flashsteps back into his room, shutting and locking the door behind him. He needs to figure this out. But what is there to figure out?

How… how he’s going to live now that Bro’s gone and this… this imposter is here. Yeah. Sure, that’s what he needs to figure out. Nothing else, right?

Right.

He takes deep, even breaths, waiting for the thud of a dagger sinking into his bedroom door to signal the start of a strife, but it never comes. Eventually, his brain is fuzzed out and he’s so focused on listening for signs of Bro being the way he was that he doesn’t actually know what he’s doing anymore, and he slips away.

Dirk looks down at his empty arms, the feeling of the carpet soft under his knees. He takes a minute to process what’s just happened, then slowly pushes himself up on one gloved hand and goes back into his room.

Time to start going through his life to figure out who he’s been.

The first thing he does is look through the files on his computer. There’s a few items that look interesting, and he clicks through them to find all of Dave’s legal documents, including a birth certificate and a scan of a letter from Roxy with a subheading that lists instructions for when Dave should open it. Dirk takes note of the address and files it away in his mental notes.

He also finds a few boxes labeled, “MEMORABILIA” in the top of the closet, and riffles through them to find pictures of Dave as a newborn. All the pictures include Dave and another little girl — Rose, probably — and then they just stop. Nothing past when Dave is about half a year old.

Beyond that, there are a few coding manuals, some empty captchalogue cards, and a double-locked safe with a seven-digit combination.

Dirk really wants to open it. He doesn’t trust himself to guess the right code, though, and so he doesn’t touch it.

He tries Pesterchum again.

Again, Roxy immediately blocks him.

His room looks like a tornado went through it. As he’s picking up, he gets a Pesterchum notification.

- -turntechGodhead [TG] has started pestering turingsTenets [TT] at 10:18 AM!- -
TG: who are you
TT: I’m Dirk.
TG: youre not bro
TG: so who are you
TT: I’m your older brother.
TG: no youre not
TT: If you say so.
TG: how did you get here and what are you doing in bros body
TT: Being your brother.
TT: As for how I got here, I have no clue.
TT: I’m just as much in the dark as you are.
TG: are you going to strife me yet
TT: Why would I strife a six-year-old?
TG: because thats what bro did
TT: What?
TG: bro strifed me to train me
TG: it was super cool
TG: im going to be just as good as he was someday
TT: I mean, we can train if you want, but I’m not going to strife you.
TT: You don’t strife little kids.
TG: why not
TT: Because of the strength difference and how dubious the consent is.
TG: thats dumb
TG: im just as strong as bro
TT: Dave, I said what I said and we’re not discussing this further. I don’t know what your Bro did to you but I’m not like him.
TG: oh
TG: what
TG: but you are him
TT: I’m not, though.
TG: but you said you were my older brother
TT: Yes, but I’m not.
TG: what
TT: It’s complicated. I’m still trying to figure it out myself.
TT: I wanted to be upfront with you, though, so that you know what’s going down.
TG: oh
TG: what
TG: what should i call you
TG: gotta have a name for you you know dont want to call you bro and then one day have bro come back and realize ive changed loyalties
TT: You can call me Dirk, or Bro, or really anything.
TG: oh
TG: okay
TG: man ive been saying a lot of os here
TG: its like my text is suddenly a cereal brand
TG: im gonna be putting kelloggs out of business
TG: call me general mills the way im makin these daveos
TG: my mini mes that people eat
TG: theyre magically disturbing
TG: theyve got their shades on and are prepared to stare into your soul and will only stop when youve finished eating them
TT: Oh, and, by the way.
TG: ?
TT: Do you know a Hal?
TT: Perchance a John, Jade, June, Rose, Jake, Roxy, or Jane?
TG: oh shit
TG: oh shittttt
TG: howd you get ahold of the rosebush trio
TG: thorny yet so sweet
TG: yeah its way too shakespearean of a name i know i was against it but apparently thats the name of their groupchat where they
TG: air quotes
TG: dont simp over you dave
TG: not everyone is obsessed with your weirdly gaunt and freckled face
TT: Oh, my.
TT: And what about Hal?
TG: from 2001 right
TG: awh hell yeah i got all the movie trivia up in this brain
TG: shakin my pan to get the trivia out like balls
TG: how many balls you ask
TG: more than two
TG: geez dave your bro lets you have more than two balls
TT: No. Hal as in autoTestifieus. Hal as in your Big Bro.
TT: Hal as in my brother.
TG: oh
TG: shit man gotta go egderp calls
TG: goin on a sweet olive garden date with this fucker thank you very much
- -turntechGodhead [TG] has ceased pestering turingsTenets [TT] at 10:47 AM!- -

Chapter Text

Dave leans back against the door again, relaxing his shoulders that he hadn’t realized were tense. He should be keeping his guard up — when Bro returns, he doesn’t want him to be disappointed, and, anyway, Dirk is probably going to give up the ruse soon and turn on him — but he’s never been good at following rules. (That’s probably one of the reasons his Bro was trying to train him. Dirk’s going to be really disappointed when he realizes how annoying Dave can be, and that’ll probably lead to him finally resorting to the way Bro trained him. Dave’s… he doesn’t really want to think about that right now. He also doesn’t want to get metacognitive and think about the reason he doesn’t want to think about that right now.)

- -turntechGodhead [TG] has started pestering autoTestifieus [AT] at 10:47 AM!- -
TG: hey
AT: ‘Sup?
TG: he knows
AT: Shit.
AT: How much?
TG: your screen name
TG: your name
TG: he called you my big bro
TG: but
TG: also this isnt the same bro as before
AT: Oh. So that’s what happened.
TG: whats what happened
TG: you cant just leave me in the dark here
TG: im floundering around like a castrated anglerfish
TG: so used to having my light that i cant navigate without it
TG: gonna have to start relying on my other senses for it
TG: like gc
TG: with her weird insistence that she can taste colors and smell sights
TG: ugh i still cant get over the image of her licking my text
TG: its really interesting how that might work but also
TG: no thank you please dont eat my pesterchum
AT: It seems you’re rambling again. Please, for my sake, stop.
TG: ugh thank you
TG: sorry bout that
AT: Nothing to apologize for. No harm, no foul.
TG: thanks bud
TG: so dirk said hes not going to make me train if i dont want to
TG: and im not sure how to feel about that
AT: Isn’t that a good thing?
AT: Also, Dirk?
TG: thats what he told me to call him
AT: Okay, so that’s definitely what’s happening.
AT: Gotta go now.
TG: oh
TG: man aint you an ai
TG: cant you hold two conversations at once
AT: Not with the conversations I’m about to have. Sorry, Dave.
AT: By the way, I want you to know that this Bro will not hurt you. He will do everything in his power to protect you from getting hurt, and won’t force you to do things you don’t want to do like the old Bro did. I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about this, but I hope it’s better for you.
AT: Peace, lil bro.
TG: peace
- -autoTestifieus [AT] has ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 10:59 AM!- -

Bro stares down at the mixing bowl in front of him. Since it’s Sunday, Dave and Hal have conspired to drag him out of his room to make pancakes. He’s dumped in the mix, he’s put in the water and oil, and now he’s just got to mix it. Dave, swinging his legs rhythmically against the cabinet door from where he sits on the counter, stabs the whisk into the batter, and Bro curses under his breath as he realizes his forgot the eggs. Dave’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Bro, what does ‘shit’ mean?” he asks. His eyes are wide, and he’s giggling.

Bro glares at him. “Don’t let me hear you say that,” he says.

Dave pouts. “But you just said it!” he whines. “Why don’t I get to?”

Bro holds back a sigh. “Yeah, well,” he starts, considering his words, “I’m older than you.” He rummages around in the fridge for a bit until he finds the eggs.

Dave lets out an indignant wail. “That’s not fair!” he says. “I can do anything you could.”

Bro stares him down, and, after a second, Dave huffs and looks away. “Like he— heck you could,” Bro says, cracking two eggs into the bowl. “Toss these for me, will ya?” Dave stares down the eggshells with the intensity of a skater staring down a long set of stairs. “And, anyway,” Bro continues as Dave hops off the counter and trudges over to the sink, “have you ever gotten a combo worth over a hundred thousand in Goat Simulator? No? Didn’t think so. So, moot point, my dude. You could have. You didn’t. That’s what I’m expecting with this new vocab as well.”

Dave jumps back onto the counter and steals the bowl, starting to mix furiously.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “I won’t say it.” His feet go back to thumping a rhythm on the counter.

AT: Good job handling that.
AT: But if you don’t mind stepping away for a minute, I have something that I need to talk to you about.

Bro runs a hand through his hair. “Dave,” he says. The kid barely glances up from his mixing. “I’m goin’ to the toilet.”

“Eww, gross,” Dave mutters. He waves a hand, and Bro steps out.

He doesn’t actually end up going to the restroom, but he slips a key off of the carabiner on his belt, opens the door to the roof, and sits down just inside the stairwell.

TT: I’m listening.
AT: Good. How much do you remember about your other life?

Chapter Text

Dave wakes up in a mire of sweat, his heart pounding. He doesn’t remember what his dream was about, but he remembers a shadowy figure, a weird black hole, gears ticking and ticking and ticking… He thinks it must have been a nightmare.

He slips his shades on and slips his legs over the side of his mattress, socked feet slipping over the hardwood floor. It’s still and silent in the house, but there’s a clicking sound coming from the living room and a warm light under the door. He pads over to the door and opens it, careful to stay silent, to see Bro… no, Dirk, sitting in the living room, with the TV in shambles next to him, taking apart and rewiring it.

He tries to close the door again, but Dirk looks up and… smiles? Huh. It looks kind of weird on his Bro’s face, but it warms Dave’s heart to see. In the flickering glow of the living room lamp, Dirk looks cozy yet sad, and possibly a little manic. His shades are off, and he’s wearing a black tank top — Dave didn’t know Bro had any clothes other than the white shirt he wore religiously. Caught in the act, Dave trudges over to the couch and flops down, arms dangling over the back of it.

“Bro’s gonna be annoyed,” Dave says, waving a hand around. Dirk flicks his eyes over to Dave, startled. His orange irises glow in the light.

“I don’t think I need to remind you that he’s not here right now, Dave,” Dirk responds, already moving back to his tinkering.

“Yeah, but he’s gonna be,” Dave says. “And he ain’t gonna be happy.”

Dirk huffs, taking out what looks like a small cylindrical syringe and putting it to the circuit board. He pushes down the pressy thing on the top, and then the pressy thing springs back up with a soft, sucking pop. Dave flinches, and, when Dirk looks back up at him, wrinkles his nose and looks away. He hears a small snort of laughter, and then another, and, by the time Dave looks back at Dirk, his Bro is laughing.

As if this night wasn’t weird enough already.

“What,” Dave says. “Why are you laughing.”

“Dave,” Dirk says, breath light and wheezy, “don’t make me laugh while I’m holding a soldering iron. I’m pretty sure that’s a bad idea for more than one reason.”

“Then put it down.” Dave feels his own lips tugging into a smile and tries to stop them.

“Okay, fine,” Dirk says, dropping the soldering iron back into its holder. “Why are you up anyway?” He’s still giggling under his breath, a genuine smile on his face. Dave has no idea what it’s doing there. It looks so out of place.

Dave blinks, then realizes that Dirk asked a question. “Um,” he says, fishing around in his brain for the question. “Uh.”

“Do you want me to repeat myself?” Dirk asks, eyes softening.

The wording of this statement strikes Dave as yet another way in which Dirk is different from Bro. Bro would’ve said something like, “You heard me,” and refused to repeat himself. If he did repeat himself, it would be after a long verbal struggle, and the chances of Dave winning that struggle were slim. But Dirk said it like he had asked Dave something that was important. Bro never trusted Dave with important things.

Dave nods his head, still processing. “Yeah,” he mutters.

“Why are you up so late?”

Dave pauses. If he ever admitted this to Bro, he’d be a goner, but this is Dirk, not Bro. He runs a hand through his hair, then admits, “Nightmares.”

Dirk’s eyes widen and his eyebrows furrow. “What about?” he asks, and Dave can’t quite pinpoint what makes his tone so… different.

“I don’t actually remember,” Dave says, staring at the floor. He shifts on the couch, tucking his chin between two of the cushions. “There was this weird black dog thing with wings, and… a green void? And clocks, lots of them.”

“Oh.” The word is short and clipped. “Huh. Were you scared?”

“No,” Dave says, reflexively. He looks up at Dirk, whose orange eyes are shadowed by the backlighting from the lamp.

Dirk is silent, eyes focused. “Okay,” he says after a moment. “Do you want to stay up for a bit with me? We can watch My Little Pony.”

Dave blinks. Bro would never have wanted to watch that with him. “Can we?” he asks, trying to control the eagerness leaking into his voice.

Dirk smiles. “Sure, lil dude. I know it was one of my Dave’s favorite shows.” He chuckles. “Might’ve been because of my influence, but if you’re into it too, then that idea falls a little short.”

Dave shakes his head. “Bro always refused to watch it with me,” he says. “It’s too girly and uncool.”

Dirk reaches out, and Dave considers backing away, but stays where he is as Dirk ruffles his hair with one gloved hand. “That’s his opinion,” Dirk says, eyes twinkling. “As for me? I love MLP, haters be darned.” Dave giggles at his language.

Dirk stands up, flashsteps to the bedroom, and returns quickly with his laptop. “Since the TV is out of commission,” he says when Dave raises an eyebrow. “Plus, I like the terrible sound. It adds character.”

Dave hums in agreement. “You know,” he says, after Dirk’s logged in, “you’re really nothing like him. I’m almost inclined to believe you when you say you won’t strife me, and I’m not sure why I want it to be true.” He didn’t mean to let the words slip out. He closes his mouth and bites his cheek until he tastes blood. Dirk frowns, and Dave can feel the other shoe starting to drop.

“He wasn’t a very good Bro, Dave.”

And there it is.

Dave, torn in his emotions, does not want to deal with this right now. He reaches out and presses the spacebar to play the show, staying silent.

The night drags on and Dave loses himself once again in the world on the screen.

It’s two in the morning when Dave finally falls asleep. He’d stayed on the other side of the couch from Dirk at first, but slowly scooted closer throughout the binge, and now his head has fallen onto Dirk’s shoulder, white eyelashes fluttering up and down with each breath. His shades are askew on his face, and Dirk reaches out and coaxes them off, setting them down on the end table.

He looks at the screen one last time, then closes it, puts it down on the coffee table, and twists his torso to scoop Dave up.

Dave wakes up at the movement, yanking himself into an upright position. He pulls his sword out of his strife deck, and it hits Dirk once again just how fucked up the other version of him had been. Dave’s eyes are frenzied, pupils shrunk to pinpoints against his red irises, and his feet hit the floor silently. Dirk doesn’t even know when he’d stood up.

“Bro,” Dave says, and Dirk shakes his head, holding his hands up. He reaches out a hand, and Dave’s eyes track the action, arms tensing.

“Dave,” Dirk says. At the sound of his voice, Dave’s body tenses, and then relaxes as he realizes who it is.

Dave puts his sword back into his strife deck. Dirk follows the movement, how naturally it comes to Dave, and his stomach twists. He loathes the man who did this to Dave, but… That was him, wasn’t it? It might not have been this version of him, but it was a version of him.

Dirk puts his hand down, and Dave lets out a breath. Dirk takes a closer look at him, and realizes how young he actually is. His Dave was thirteen before… this Dave is six, but has twice the amount of scars and half the light in his eyes. His innocence was stolen.

Dirk looks at his watch pointedly, and Dave sighs, shuffling his feet. “It’s late, isn’t it,” Dave says. “Fine. I’ll go to bed.”

He looks up at Dirk for approval. Dirk smiles. “Good,” he says. “Sleep well.”

Dave shrugs his shoulders. “You… you too, I guess.”

Dave flashsteps to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. Dirk sighs and leans back on the couch, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. He should probably get some sleep as well, he supposes.

He walks to his room and lays down, not even bothering to change into pajamas. The flat sheet is nice and cool, and he reaches out and flicks the fan on. Out the window, he can’t see any stars, just a smoggy haze.

He sets an alarm on his phone and sets it on his nightstand, then closes his eyes and starts counting. Before he hits three hundred, he’s asleep.

Chapter Text

TT: Not much, admittedly.
TT: I remember the orphanage. I remember being there with Roxy, then running away together when we were twelve.
TT: We lived on the streets for a time. We were in an on and off romantic relationship, then I ran away for some reason about three months after I found Cal.
TT: I moved back to Houston with a buddy. Somehow, Dave came crashing down from the sky on a meteor when I was eighteen.
TT: That’s when it all starts to get fuzzy.
AT: Okay. So my theory was correct.
AT: You’re aware that this is not your world?
TT: No duh, Sherlock.
AT: Well, that’s a good sign.
AT: Do you remember Jake or Jane?
TT: Vaguely.
TT: There was this one boy who I chatted with online a lot. I’m still not sure what happened to him, but his name was Jake, and he said he lived on an island.
TT: He was… nice.
AT: ;)
TT: Shut the fuck up.
AT: ;) Make me.
TT: No.
AT: Damn.
AT: Anyway, I’m patching you through now.
TT: Wait, the fuck?
TT: What does that mean?
A!turingsTenets [TT] has joined the chat!
ATT: Hal! Oh, my gosh, you’re there!
TT: Who the fuck is this?
ATT: Who the fuck is this?
ATT: Oh, wow. Some things never change, I guess.
TT: Is this the Dirk who got swapped with me?
ATT: The hell did you do to Dave, you good-for-nothing piece of shit?
TT: It wasn’t me, it was the damned puppet! Didn’t it do anything to you? I could feel it as soon as I got to this other world!
ATT: Wait.
ATT: Are you talking about Cal?
ATT: You’re seriously blaming your fuckups on a puppet we’ve had since we were twelve?
ATT: That’s low, man. Even for us. What the fuck?
TT: It possessed me! Don’t you feel it?
TT: The way it gets into your mind and fogs up your head?
TT: The way its glassy blue eyes resonate in your soul?
ATT: Come to think of it, I haven’t actually seen Cal since I got here.
ATT: Nor have I felt anything in my head.
ATT: Oh, by the way, how’s Jake doing?
TT: I plead the fifth.
ATT: You haven’t even talked to your friends. What the fuck, man.
AT: It seems there’s an issue. Do I have to separate you two?
TT: No.
ATT: No.
ATT: I’m just trying to figure out why the hell this fucker was swordfighting a six-year-old.
AT: He just told you. It wasn’t him.
ATT: Oh, so now you’re buying into his bullshit too?
AT: I’m not buying into anything. I just have his vitals and he’s telling the truth.
TT: Thank you, Hal.
AT: Also.
AT: blackmail.txt
ATT: What the fuck. May I ask, how many of those did you have on me?
AT: ;)
ATT: Fine. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt for now.
ATT: But if you hurt a single hair on Dave’s head, I’m going to ask Hal to electrocute you in your sleep.
AT: Dirk. Tone it down.
TT: No, he’s right. I deserve it.
TT: I was a shitty Bro to Dave. I did a lot of things that I shouldn’t have.
TT: Hal’s helping me figure out how not to do those things.
ATT: …
ATT: Hal, is this true?
AT: Yes, you dubious little shit.
ATT: Fine.
ATT: I’ve got to get back to Dave now.
A!turingsTenets [TT] has left the chat!- -
AT: Don’t take what he said to heart, ‘kay? You’ll just end up beating yourself up if you do.
TT: He did make some good points though.
AT: Yeah, but he was being an asshole. You were possessed. That’s not you.
TT: I let it happen, though. And that’s just as bad. I didn’t try to fight it. And that’s even worse.
AT: Dirk.
TT: Please, leave me alone for a second. I need to process.
AT: Alright.
AT: But if you need anything, I’m here, okay?
- -timaeusTestified [TT] has ceased pestering autoTestifieus [AT] at 8:27 AM!- -

Chapter Text

The next few days pass as normal. Bro goes grocery shopping and accidentally gets way too much (thank God Hal’s done well with the finances,) Bro and Dave play some MarioKart, and, Bro, needing an excuse to get out of the house, sits on the roof and reads about the history of this world and tries to puzzle out what kind of situation he’s been placed into.

On the fourth day, as he’s on the roof, he hears a whirring from the weird round platform in the corner of the rooftop and shoots into an upright position, almost pitching himself off of the rooftop.

When he recovers his balance, he looks over to the device. From his vantage point, the first thing he sees is a pair of pink kitten heeled sneakers the bottom of a peacoat covering tan legs. He looks up, and sees Roxy Lalonde, seven years older than he knew her.

Behind her follows a young girl, with a similar build to Dave’s, with white hair cut in a bob and purple eyes. She has a sharp look about her, and she takes him in like she’s psychoanalyzing him and learning his every weakness.

Dave bursts onto the roof and tackles her into a hug. They’re the same height, and as Dave tosses his arms around her shoulders, she delicately wraps them around his waist and hugs him back.

Roxy pauses for a minute to watch the children, then promptly walks up to Bro and slaps him on the side of the head.

“Good job, Rox,” Hal says, voice amused.

She then drops her tote bag and plops down, legs crossed, beside Bro and hugs him tightly.

Bro stiffens. He still hasn’t really gotten used to being hugged, and Roxy is just as enthusiastic about physical contact as he remembers Roxanne being in his timeline. When she pulls back, her eyes are dark, and Bro leans back slightly.

“Dirkypoo,” she says, “what the actual heck.”

Bro shrugs, and she punches him in the shoulder. It fucking hurts, and he reels from the blow. Ugh. He’d forgotten how strong she was. He rubs the sore spot, grimacing.

Roxy continues. “You said a slur, ghosted us all, and apparently think you’re from another world or have been possessed or something. So I brought Rose and I here for an intervention. We’re having a girls’ night, Dirk. Jane’s joining us, and we’re gonna learn what’s going on.”

She smiles, expression doing a one-eighty from the previous anger, and hugs him again. His face is promptly squished into her shoulder, and he turns his face uncomfortably. He does not want to be that close to her tits, and when she lets go, he scoots back a couple of inches.

“Jane, right. When?” Roxy narrows her eyes at him, but doesn’t press.

“An hour,” she replies. “John’s coming too.”

Bro sighs. “And I’m guessing I’m providing snacks?”

Roxy beams at him. “Of course! It’s your place.”

He scrubs a hand through his hair and grins slightly. He doesn’t know these people, but they seem to care about him, so he’ll do his best for their sakes. “Aight, then. I’ll start the popcorn.

True to her word, Roxy texts Jane to come over an hour later, and bring John. They arrive, and Roxy heads up to the roof to greet them while Dirk is in the kitchen, making dinner for the kids. Dave and Rose have already retreated to Dave’s room, and are probably watching a movie or playing a game or something. Roxy ain’t gonna intrude.

Jane steps lightly off the transportalizer in a flash of light blue, red sneakers hitting the concrete with a scuffing sound. John bounds after her like a puppy dog, runs up to Roxy, hugs her, and heads quickly down the stairs.

Jane walks up to her, and Roxy smiles, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair back behind Jane’s ear. “Well, don’t you look cute today,” she teases, and Jane blushes, turning away.

She’s wearing a black shirt with a chest pocket and blue sweatpants, both dusted lightly with flour and dandruff, and she’s carrying a blue bag. She’s around three inches shorter than Roxy, who leans down to kiss her on the cheek and then takes her bag.

Roxy’s never really figured out what’s going on between them, and now isn’t the time to push it. She pushes the door open and heads back downstairs.

Jane doesn’t follow, but Roxy shrugs it off.

In the kitchen, Dirk is cooking taco meat in a skillet, and Roxy inhales the heavely scent, coming to stand behind him. He stiffens as she nears him, but she doesn’t touch him, only admires his cooking. She steps away and heads into the living room, where she’s been finalizing the movie list and setting out the nail polish colors.

Jane opens the door and enters the apartment, a very awkward-looking Jake trailing behind her. He waves at Dirk as he comes in, but Dirk doesn’t see.

“We’ve arrived,” Jane announces, and Dirk startles, grease popping from the pan onto his arm. He curses, blows on the spot, and puts a lid on the pan.

Jake walks over to him. “Here, love,” he says, and Roxy swoons at how sweet the scene is. “Let me get that for you.” He raises Dirk’s arm to his face and kisses the injured spot. Dirk smiles, but his hand tightens on the spatula and he turns bright red.

Jake looks up and laughs, and Roxy gestures to Jane to get to the living room before they start making out. She knew that message on Saturday was a prank.

She sits down on the couch, smiling at Jane, who’s pulling a Tupperware container of cookies out of her bag and setting it down on the coffee table. Jane sits down next to her, leaning her head on Roxy’s shoulder, and Roxy smiles as she searches for her favorite pink nail polish in the bucket of colors.

Jake whisks into the room, a frown on his face, as she pulls it out triumphantly.

“Roxy,” he says, pausing to let a hand rest on her shoulder, “something’s wrong with Dirk.”

Chapter Text

- -turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 9:20 PM!- -
TG: yo
TG: cg
TG: jade gave me this chumhandle
TG: said you were funny
CG: SHIT, DAVE???
TG: what the fuck
TG: how do you know my name
TG: are you some sort of data scraping ai or some shit
TG: sir i did not consent to this in the privacy policy
CG: NO, NO. THAT’S NOT IT. DAVE.
TG: this is still creepy but ill bite
TG: what
CG: AREN’T YOU.
CG: WAIT. TIMELINE SHIT.
CG: NEVERMIND.
CG: WHO’S THE PRESIDENT.
TG: arent you an alien or something
CG: YES, WE’VE ESTABLISHED THAT A HUNDRED TIMES.
CG: WHO’S THE PRESIDENT.
CG: ANSWER ME, DAVE.
TG: obama
TG: duh
TG: thats why im so chill
TG: because i was born under the chillest presidential zodiac sign there could be
TG: wait do aliens have zodiac signs
TG: duh of course they do because theyre still in space arent they
TG: it wouldnt be the same of course but
CG: DAVE. SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I’LL EAT YOUR LUSUS.
TG: woah woah no need to get into that stuff here
TG: this is a family friendly establishment maam please take yourself and your ugly pug back out to your ferrari and ditch your mink coat this is a chuck e cheese for heavens sake
CG: UGH. I CANNOT DO THIS RIGHT NOW.
- -carcinoGeneticist [CG] has ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG] at 9:43 PM!- -
TG: man who says cannot anymore the proper way to say it is aint
- -turntechGodhead [TG] has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 9:45 PM!

Bro stands in this kitchen, that is his own and yet not. The lights are too bright, the void is too strong, and the fire alarm is going off. He’s standing, his hands gripping the edge of a surface, and the world is swimming in his periphery. His breathing is too loud and his lungs are crinkling up and down and up and down and it’s scaring him.

A strange man he doesn’t know just kissed him and told him that everything would be okay, and the weirdest thing about all of this is that he thinks he liked it.

He’s never been one to deny his emotions, even if he doesn’t show them outwardly, and he knows this feeling well. The feeling of attraction, of wanting to experiment with someone until both of them click into place like two lines on a graph. The thing that he’s worried about in this scenario is not the feelings. It’s that he’s feeling them for… for a boy.

He knows he’s always felt this way deep down. It’s only ever made his life harder, and, when he was fourteen, he promised himself that he’d never let those feelings get in his way again. He buried them deep inside, never to see the light of day. He never wanted to feel them again. So, he told himself that he wouldn’t. But now they’re back, because of a man with spring in his eyes and a tan on his shoulders and freckles on his neck and dimples in his cheeks, and Bro wants to fucking kill himself.

Taking deep, shuddering breaths, he sinks to his knees on the linoleum floor and tries to compose himself. As he comes back into awareness, he sees a deep red pulsing in the middle of his vision, and aligns his breaths to the rhythm it gives him. It’s nice and steady, grounding him well.

When he’s back down to earth, he feels lightheaded but steady, and slowly picks himself up off of the floor to check back on the taco meat.

It’s not there.

He looks around to find Roxy standing at the sink, empty pan and spatula in hand. She waves the spatula haphazardly towards the living room. “He’s in there, if you want to talk about… whatever that was,” she says, eyes downcast, concentrating on the pan. He looks at the arch separating the kitchen from the living room. Jane is sitting at the kitchen table, gnawing at a cookie, blushing awkwardly.

He walks into the living room to find Jake sitting on his leather cowboy armchair, legs spread and rubbing the back of his neck, shirt riding up on his stomach just a little bit. Bro tries to ignore the way his mouth goes dry at the sight, instead opting to sit on the couch across from Jake. His brain is on fire, so he focuses on Jake’s eyes, the light of expression shining in his irises and the arches of his eyebrows.

Shit. Jake’s talking.

“—so, as I was saying, there’s no pressure on you to do anything that you don’t want to, but I was just wondering if you would maybe like to share what that was about? I’d like to help you with whatever you’re stressed about, love.” God, hearing the word love off of such an angel’s lips is a weird feeling.

Bro blinks, wondering what to say.

“I… I had a moment of dissociation, I guess you could call it,” he says at last. “When you kissed me, it startled me, and I just… struggling with some internal shit.” Jake’s eyes are empathetic, and Bro wants to slap the expression off of his face. He doesn’t need empathy, goddammit—

He shakes himself inside, getting control again. Ugh. He really needs to recode his habits from those possessed years. Cal was not a good influence, and it’s showing right now. He forces on a smile, tugging his lips up into what he hopes is a passable mask of okayness.

“I’m fine now, though.”

Jake shakes his head vigorously.

“No, darling, you are obviously not! You’ve never done that before — if you won’t tell me your sorrows, then I can’t know how to help you!”

Bro chokes on his words as the truth tries to force itself out. “I— Jake, I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s way too weird, you would never believe me in a million years.”

And then Jake stands up. He walks over to Bro, sits down on the couch next to him. His rough, callused, gentle fingers tip Bro’s chin up, and he pushes the shades up into Bro’s hair as he replies, quiet and soft and understanding, “Try me.”

Chapter Text

Bro swallows hard. He’s never really done this before, had a heart to heart with anyone but Roxy and Hal, so he’s not exactly sure how to do this. He figures it must be much the same, but he also doesn’t know how to talk honestly about things when he’s not panicking and oversharing. 

“I…” he says, “I’m not your Dirk.” 

Jake squinches his eyebrows together, hand dropping to his legs. “What?” he asks, puzzled. 

Bro takes a deep breath in, then lets it slowly out. “I’m not your Dirk. Apparently, me and him got, like, body switched or something?” As he says it, he realizes how ridiculous it sounds, and has to force himself not to laugh. 

“Dirk,” Jake says, confused, “are you hornswoggling me?”

Okay, he can’t do it anymore. Bro laughs, the sheer absurdity of the word hornswoggle getting the better of him. The tension in his shoulders releases, and he finds himself smiling, even as his shades fall off his head from the shaking.

“No, Jake,” he says, grinning, “I’m not hornswoggling you. I’m being entirely serious.”

“Hal?” Jake asks, eyes not leaving Bro’s own.

From his new resting spot on the couch cushion, Hal says, “Yeah, he’s being serious. Entirely serious. Black out the entire pie chart with seriousness, that’s how serious this is. Also, Dirk, please put me somewhere that is not in your crotch. I don’t need to see this shit.” 

“Oh, sorry, Hal,” Bro mutters, picking up the shades and moving them to the coffee table. 

“So, you’re telling the truth, then,” Jake says, picking at a seam in the couch cushion. “What does that mean, though? Do you… Where are you from?”

“Another timeline, probably,” Bro answers, and Jake frowns.

“Do you remember us?” he asks, looking down at the couch like it’s a brand new katana that he’s inspecting before he buys it.

“To be honest with you,” Bro says, sighing, “no. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to know you guys.”

At that, Jake looks back up at him and smiles a little bit. “Are you alright with still being in a relationship with me?” 

Bro takes a moment to think this over. If he said yes, what would he be signing up for? In his world, he loved talking with Jake, loved the long stretches of time when they would sit there, talking about anything and everything. He loved Jake’s laugh, the boisterous laughter that made him feel as if he could do anything. He loved his moods — all the different things Jake could feel in such a short span of time, if he let himself. Hell, he might have even loved Jake himself.

Jake made him feel safe and secure in his old world. 

He nods, meeting Jake’s eyes. “Yeah, I think I am. I’m not sure there’s a Dirk in the multiverse that wouldn’t be alright with that.” 

Jake smiles at that, a million-watt grin that has Bro smiling as well. “And same goes for me,” he says, and then he wraps an arm around Bro’s shoulders and pulls him in.

It’s a bit of an awkward hug, knees hitting each other and Bro having to lean forward an uncomfortable amount, but it’s nice and warm and Jake smells amazing. Bro buries his face in Jake’s shoulder and smiles. 

After a few seconds, he hears a high squeal, and then Roxy’s joining in on the hug as well, the scent of cats and vodka mixing with the other smells, and Jane’s standing awkwardly behind her. 

Bro lifts his head and nods at the two of them, then reaches forward to grab the remote and start the movie. 

Jane and Roxy quickly take their seats, Roxy pausing for a moment to set the tacos down on the coffee table, and Jake reaches over to the nail polish bin to pull out a deep orange. He indicates the bottle to Bro, who nods and holds out a hand as the main menu music of Blade Runner starts to play. Jake holds his hand with a soft touch, as if it might disintegrate if he squeezes too hard, and Bro does his best to focus not on the contact but the screen. It’s hard, though, and he misses most of the movie to watch Jake. 

When it’s over, Jake beams at him, then leans over and kisses him on the cheek before he stands up. “I’ve got to go now, Jade should be up!” He hurries out of the living room, and Bro brushes his fingers over the still-tingling spot of contact.

Roxy gives him a knowing look and a grin. “I knew you’d get over yourself, Dirk,” she teases, and he kicks her in the shin as she’s walking past him to get to Dave’s room. He hears her rap the back of her knuckles three times on the door, and call out, “Rosey! It’s time to go!” 

After a minute, Rose strides out, looking tired but contented, and Roxy ruffles her hair. As they head back to the stairs, Roxy blows him a kiss and a wink, and then they, too, are gone.

Jane’s the last one left, and Bro doesn’t know what to say to her. But she gets up and hugs him anyway. “Dirk, you know you’ll always be my best friend, right?” she says, and he nods. She pulls away and smiles at him. 

John comes running out of the bedroom, Dave chasing after him with a wooden pirate sword, and crashes into Jane as she’s heading the opposite way. 

“Oh, there you are, John! Watch where you’re going next time!” 

John rolls his eyes then turns to Dave and hugs him tight. “Bye, dude!” 

Dave hugs him back. 

After they’ve left, Dave jumps over the back of the couch, grabs the third-to last cookie off of the platter on the coffee table, and sits down next to Bro, leaning against his arm. His head doesn’t quite come up to Bro’s armpit, and it’s adorable. “Bro, guess what!” he exclaims, red eyes dancing with light. 

“What?” Bro replies, mouth quirking up at the sides. 

“Rose can do magic ! She said that you’re connected with the multiverse!” Dave laughs, enamored with his friends. 

If only he knew how truthful that was. 

Bro smiles, and tells the kid, “Sounds fun. Want to watch a movie with me?”

Dave giggles and nods. “Heck yeah!” He’s grinning from ear to ear as Bro gets up, puts in Cars , and sits back down, Dave immediately clinging to his side again like a leech. It’s adorable, and, as Bro starts the movie, he puts an arm around Dave’s shoulders.

They spend the rest of the night there on the couch, and Bro finds that he’s weirdly okay with it.

Chapter Text

On Monday, Dirk goes to the grocery store.

He’s shocked by how normal it is there — crowds bustling, weird skeletons for Halloween, pumpkins out front. He picks one up, looks at it, and puts it in the cart. Maybe they could carve it and put it next to the door on the roof.

As he weaves his way through the crowded HEB, he’s chatting with Hal and trying to figure out how to deal with Dave.

TT: He keeps talking about Bro coming back, and it scares me. I don’t want him to go through that shit again.
AT: Fair. But, from what I’ve seen, he won’t have to.
AT: The universe knows what it’s doing.
TT: Yeah, but…
TT: What if I’m the one who fucks it up this time?

He stops by the sushi stall and grabs a few packs, stacking them carefully in the cart.

AT: You won’t. There is a 1.2% likelihood that you have more than a 1% chance of hurting Dave worse than Bro hurt him before.
AT: He’s been through a lot, and he survived.
AT: And, anyway, you have what Bro didn’t.
TT: I feel like you’re about to say you.
AT: Me.
AT: ;)
TT: Shut it.

As he’s walking through the meat area, Hal tells him to get dino nuggets. He tosses a couple bags of them in the cart. They make a satisfying crashing sound when they hit, and the cart shudders.

Beside him, a young woman carrying an infant talks on the phone. The infant is crying, and Dirk turns around and lowers his shades, letting the child see his eyes. The baby, infatuated, coos softly and waves its hands towards his face, and the woman smiles at him.

“I don’t know what you did,” she says, “but thanks.”

No problem, he signs, and she nods.

AT: See? You’re doing well, Dirk.
AT: Also, I found someone for you. But you get to wait until we get home to hear the news.
TT: Bitch.

Hal starts playing some soft music in his headphones, and Dirk taps the rhythm on the cart as he continues his trip through the store. At the deli, he stops and gets a pound each of ham, turkey, and sharp cheddar, and he gets a full block of colby jack to shred later. He also gets some Nutella, some ramen, and a bunch of other stuff that he thinks Dave would like.

In the drinks aisle, Hal stops him.

AT: Hey.
TT: ‘Sup?
AT: I talked to Roxy for you.
AT: Bro did some shitty stuff to her in the past, but she knows the universe and all its stuff.
TT: Oh?
AT: I convinced her that you’re not the same, and she’s willing to hear you out.
TT: Oh.
TT: Thanks.
AT: Anytime.

He grabs at least twenty bottles of apple juice, and heads for the checkout.

When he gets back home, he takes the elevator, because there is no way he’s going to lug all of this stuff up the stairs.

Dave’s sitting on the couch in the living room, on his computer. When Dirk enters, he jumps up, drawing his sword, then, seeing who it is, stows it and plops back down, face red.

“Dude, we really need to talk about that,” Dirk says, and, although Dave does his best to not react, Dirk sees the way that his eyes flick up.

He crosses the living room, dropping the two bags of stuff that he couldn’t fit in his sylladex on the counter and then taking the rest of the stuff out and putting it down. He has to cook up some sick fires to do so, so he’s mumbling under his breath the entire time.

“…can you please stop drinking so much A.J., are you trying to drown yourself this way, why the fuck do we have mold on the yogurt, I don’t want to touch it but leaving it won’t work…”

He’s deep in his mumbling as he takes all the stuff out of his sylladex, focusing all his attention on the rhymes. When a small, rough hand touches his arm, he lets out an unholy shriek and falls on his butt.

Dave starts giggling, covering his hand with his mouth.

“Glad to see you think that was funny,” Dirk says, standing up. His back pops at least once on the way up, and he winces.

“Can I have some of the apple juice?” Dave asks, heedless of his guardian’s pain. He tugs on Dirk’s sleeve. Dirk grins and gives him a bottle, and he darts off, flashstepping back into the living room. Dirk hears a door close distantly. Some things never change, and some things do. Dave taking his food into his room is a new one, but Dave liking apple juice is not.

He turns to keep putting away groceries, and glimpses the time on the stove.

TT: Hal, when did I get back?
AT: 5:03.
TT: Do you know what’s happening here?
AT: No, but I have a hunch.
TT: Okay. You keep working on that.
TT: Also, what was that surprise you mentioned?
AT: Check your computer. You won’t be able to find it on your shades.

It’s 6:12. How did he lose that much time?

Dirk finishes up and heads back to his room, mind troubled.

His room is nice and dark, and, most importantly, clean. It helps clear the fuzz from his mind. He sits down on his bed, grabs his laptop and opens it up, fingers flying over the keyboard as he logs in. He’s got three new messages on Pesterchum, from three different handles.

- -gordianTraveler [GT] began pestering turingsTenets [TT] at 3:41 PM!- -

- -trisheetGroundskeeper [TG] began pestering turingsTenets [TT] at 12:09 PM!- -

- -glucoseGuerilla [GG] began pestering turingsTenets [TT] at 11:11 AM!- -

Shit. Are these…

He needs to reply.

He can’t reply.

Why can’t he reply?

His fingers are shaking, and he wants to scream.

Hal starts his panic attack routine, a dark pulsing glow in the middle of his field of vision, guiding his breathing. He does his best to follow it, and, after a few minutes, he’s calmed down enough to type.

AT: Good job.
TT: thanks

So, he clicks into the first message.

Chapter Text

TG: Derick methorfuc kin stridr.
TG: wut da fuq r u doin.
TT: Shit, Roxy, are you drunk?
TT: I thought you were going to clean that shit up for Rose.
TT: Go drink some water.
TG: rosey can handl herrsefl. im talkin bout Y O U. aleo when tf did i sayth at.
TT: When we first found… Oh. Nevermind.
TT: Long time, no see.
TG: ugh i HAT Eyou
TG: wishe it had bene longtrer
TG: logner
TT: It’s alright, I understand.
TG: wut tf
TG: wuts th eact
TG: cut if out
TT: Rox, I’m not the Derick you knew. I’m a different one. From a different timeline. One who’s not an utter jackass who doesn’t deserve the resources or space he took up.
TG: huh
TG: wtf
TT: What?
TG: ngl it may just b th ealcollol but i beleive u for smoe reson
TT: Good, because it’s true. Hal can confirm it for you.
TG: gonna sever tha tlil dudes shades UGH I CANT ABELOIEVE HE. TRIEDKCE ME LIEK THIS.
TT: Roxy. Go drink some water, and then we’ll talk. Alright?
TT: I’m leaving now. I’ll talk to you again once you’re sober.
--turingsTenets [TT] has ceased pestering trisheetGroundskeeper [TG] at 6:42 PM!--

Dirk sighs, then opens Jake’s message.

--turingsTenets [TT] began pestering gordianTraveler [GT] at 6:46 PM!--
TT: And to what do I owe this pleasure?
TT: ;)
GT: Oh! Well. Thats certainly forward!
GT: Mr ar said you would be something of the sort but i dont believe i expected this sort of foolery!
GT: Although… is it bad that i hope youre not simply being a knave?
TT: You’ve been in contact with AR as well?
GT: Of course! He was the one who recommended i use this lovely site instead of the platform that gg had me using!
TT: Do you mean Jade or Jane?
GT: Sir, how do you know about jade?
TT: Fuck. Um. This may be a bit of a far fetched explanation, but I’m from another universe.
GT: Youre just trying to hornswoggle me, arent you!
TT: No. I assure you, I am being entirely honest right now. You can ask AR if you want confirmation.
GT: Hmmm… well ive asked ar but im still not entirely sure whether to believe you or not! Are you sure youre not just a fizgig trying to get my attention?
TT: Having no idea what that means, no, I’m not sure.
TT: But, anyway, was it the green GG or the blue GG?
GT: The blue one.
TT: Oh. She’s still using BettyBother, I suppose? Hm.
GT: No, in fact, she was using something called aligitation!
TT: Huh. Interesting.
GT: Why, do you know anything about that platform?
TT: No, I just thought that she’d still be on BettyBother, considering her status within the company.
GT: Hey, mate, a tip - dont mention crockercorp when talking to her! That is a fatal mistake that i have made once and dont wish to repeat.
TT: Tip accepted, and tucked gratefully into my pocketbook as I blush like a waitress at an old timey diner who’s caught the eye of the handsome patron I’m serving.
GT: Hah! Youre a funny one mr tt!
TT: Mr. TT was my father.
TT: The name’s Dirk.
GT: Well, alright, dirk!
GT: Oh, heavens.
TT: What is it?
GT: My daughter is awake! I need to let her know something before she finds out on her own.
TT: Ah. Gotcha.
TT: Go, go!
GT: Alright, i will! I wish you the best, dirk!
--gordianTraveler [GT] ceased pestering turingsTenets [TT] at 6:59 PM!--

Dirk smiles softly, running a hand through his hair as he clicks into Jane’s message.

--glucoseGuerilla [GG] began pestering turingsTenets [TT] at 6:51 PM!--
GG: Hello.
GG: You finally came online. I was starting to wonder if I would ever be able to talk to you, once AR told me it was time.
TT: Woah, that’s not creepy in the slightest.
GG: You seem a slow typer, Mr. Tenets.
GG: But it will be worth it. I waited a long time to make your acquaintance, after all, at the insistence of our mutual friend.
GG: I’m Jane. What can I call you?
TT: Dirk is fine. I don’t care.
TT: You realize how creepy you sound, right?
TT: Like, now I’m scared you have cameras inside my house.
GG: No, but I do have ways to access your house.
GG: Being one of the chief executives of a large corporation does come with certain perks. One of them being access to most transportalizers in the world.
GG: Another one being knowledge of the universe’s workings according to the best physicists on Earth, one of them being your ex-girlfriend, Roxanne Lalonde.
GG: Pray tell, did you figure out your sexuality before or after you were possessed?
TT: What?
GG: Hoo hoo! You mean to tell me you never realized?
GG: Mr. Dirk, surely this is a joke.
TT: Look, Jane, I don’t know what you think you know about me, but all I’m trying to do is protect my kid.
GG: Interesting. That reflects a change of heart, certainly.
TT: How long have you been watching me?
GG: Directly? Three years. Ever since AR came back online.
GG: By proxy? Since I was ten. So, approximately… what, fourteen years? Not that long, in the span of things.
TT: I really don’t think you know how fucking creepy this is, Jane. Please stop talking about stalking me.
GG: Oh, I doubt stalking is a proper word for it! :B
GG: More like keeping an eye on one of the nation’s foremost minds in robotics!
GG: Do you remember your first robotics competition?
GG: The way the trophy gleamed as your team cheered around you? What was that little bot’s number… 6800.
GG: That was what first caught my attention. Your bot, designed and built by ten year olds, aced a competition for bots built by seventeen year olds. And you were the only intellectual outlier on the team.
GG: So, no, stalking is not the word. Monitoring is much more fitting of a term.
TT: Okay.
GG: Okay? Nothing more?
TT: Okay, you’re a fucking creep, Jane, but you intrigue me.
TT: You say you can access every transportalizer? Meet me at this location.
--turingsTenets [TT] shared a GPS location!--
TT: Be there in an hour.
TT: And bring your nephew.
GG: I knew you would be a worthy target. :B
GG: I will be eagerly awaiting your arrival.
--glucoseGuerilla [GG] ceased pestering turingsTenets [TT] at 7:21 PM!--

Chapter Text

Dirk steps lightly off of the transportalizer onto the roof of the Harrison Apartment Building in New York. It’s cold to him — he’s used to, on better days, ninety-five degree weather — and so he’s wearing a hoodie and a face mask to keep his lips from chapping. There’s a swoof sound behind him, and Dave stumbles off of the platform, similarly dressed. Dirk motions for Dave to stand behind him, and Dave hobbles over, cursing and holding his foot.

“You good, lil bro?” Dirk asks, shooting him a concerned glance. Dave doesn’t look at him, but nods.

“Yeah,” he says, grimacing. “I just landed on my foot wrong.” Dirk winces.

“Oof, yeah, that’ll do it,” he says. “Get behind me, kid.”

Dave doesn’t question it, but gives him a very concerned look before following directions. He barely comes up to Dirk’s waist, and Dirk is reminded, yet again, what a fucked up situation Dave was forced into.

Before he can spend too much time ruminating on that, though, the transportalizer flashes blue and Jane steps lightly off, John close behind. He has a dorky smile on his face that falters when he sees Dirk and Dave.

Jane is incredibly changed. She’s tall and thickly built, with scars lacing her arms and neck. They look similar to Dave’s, but they’re puncture wounds, not slashing wounds, which gives it an impression of vitiligo. Her skin is a light freckled clay color, and her blue eyes are a darker shade than his universe’s Jane’s eyes, the color of the sky fading to twilight rather than the sky at high noon. She’s wearing a camouflage gray parka, hoodie pulled up, which she quickly unzips as she steps into the New York air.

Behind her, John looks pretty much the same, except for his awkwardness. He’s hiding behind Jane, clutching her skirt, and she has her hand protectively around his shoulders. She levels a cool look at Dirk, which Dirk returns easily. He’s used to these games of wit, of instinct. He can, however, hear Dave breathing quickly behind him.

TT: Hal? You hearing that?
AT: Already on it, Dirk.

That settled, he pushes his shades up onto his face. Jane doesn’t flinch at the sight of his creamsicle orange eyes — if she’s really been watching him for as long as she says, she’ll have already known about him. “Jane,” he says. “Such a pleasure to make your… acquaintance.”

Her smile seems to him to be just as cold as his own was meant to be. “Same to you,” she says, grinning. “I’ve been waiting for this for god knows how long.”

“Have you taken down the Batterwitch yet?” Dirk asks, holding up a hand to inspect his nails and leaning his weight casually onto his back hip.

This time, Jane blinks and hesitates for a second. Ah, gotcha, Dirk thinks, mouth quirking up at the sides. Then, she collects herself, smirking at him. “Well, of course,” she says sweetly, a saccharine poison in her voice. “She was working against the better interests of Skaianet, wasn’t she? I thought you kept up with politics, Dirk.”

Dirk shakes his head, grinning. “Got me there,” he says. “Although, I kept up with the politics in an entirely different timeline, so I guess some things just never change, do they, Crocker?”

This time, Jane visibly flinches, and Dirk knows he’s got her where he wants her. And, judging by the look on her face, she knows that as well, so she begrudgingly steps off.

“Anyway,” John says, small voice trembling, “who are you?”

It takes Dirk a second to realize that he’s not talking to him but to Dave, who’s started inching out from behind Dirk. Dave makes his way slowly over to John, and Dirk and Jane step to the side as the two young boys exchange words. They exchange looks, Jane’s exasperated, Dirk’s pleased, and let the two boys have their moment. In a moment, John’s lit up with glee, and he hugs John. Dave lets it happen, although with a bewildered look on his face, and Dirk smiles to see it. “You didn’t tell me your Bro was this cool!” John says. “I thought that you were just rambling or exaggerating, like always!” Dave looks over at Dirk, and does a double take. It’s barely there, but Dirk’s spent long enough around him to notice, and so waves a hand at Dave to keep talking to his friend while he talks things out with Jane.

He turns to her, and she meets his gaze, an excited look in her icy blue eyes. He smiles, not quite genuine, and she smiles back, similarly. “So,” she says, “how’s Cal?”

Dirk raises his eyebrows at her. “I don’t know,” he says. “I haven’t seen him in three days.” Her lips thin, and she narrows her eyes a bit.

“That’s… odd,” Jane says. Dirk had expected something a bit more antagonistic, but he’s relieved that it wasn’t. He sits down, and motions for her to do the same.

“Yeah,” he says. “I almost never lose him, so it’s weird. ‘Specially since I’ve been losing time as well. Normally I’m so organized…”

Jane scoffs. “You? Organized? You wouldn’t know organized if it shoved itself up your rectum like a raccoon.”

Dirk doesn’t question the metaphor, instead laughing quietly to himself. “Wow,” he says. “It’s so weird that you think you know everything about me, and I know pretty much nothing about myself.”

Jane hmms in agreement. “What do you mean, you know pretty much nothing?” she asks. “You’re one of the most self aware people I’ve ever met.”

TT: Should I tell her?
AT: Yeah.

Dirk nods. “Yeah, well, I only came to this universe three days ago,” he says. Jane starts.

“Wait, that’s when you lost Cal.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah… wait, what?”

Jane stands up quickly, pulls a container of cookies out of her sylladex, and foists them into his hands. “Can I leave John with you for a few days?” she asks, and Dirk nods. He’s used to that. Jane sighs in relief, then walks over to John. She taps him on the shoulder, and he and Dave pause their conversation as he turns around, deep blue eyes staring up at his aunt. They exchange a few quick words, and then Jane heads to the transportalizer, disappearing in a flash of blue light. John’s face has lit up, and he turns to Dave, waving his hands around as he talks.

Dirk sighs. This is going to be a disaster. The kid doesn’t even know him, and even though he knows Dave, he’s going to be paranoid the entire time because he doesn’t have control over the environment.

When he finally stands up, Dave and John are standing next to the transportalizer. John is smiling, and Dave is doing his best not to.

Dirk walks over to the transportalizer.

“Let’s go,” he says, and steps onto the platform. Blue light fills his vision, and he’s on his way home.

Chapter Text

John is, needless to say, enraptured by the apartment. His first words upon stepping off of the transportalizer are, “Wow, I don’t need a jacket anymore!” as his deep blue eyes light up with joy.

Dave hovers with nervous energy over his friend, and Dirk is internally panicking, wondering when all of this is going to go to shit. John takes off his jacket, opens up the door to the stairwell, and runs downstairs. Dirk and Dave exchange a look, before Dave looks away and heads after his friend.

Dirk waits for a second until he hears a crash, then hurries down the stairwell. When he reaches the first landing, he stops to see Dave helping John up, saying, “I warned you about the stairs, bro!” and laughs. John looks up at him, eyebrows furrowing for a moment before he smooths out his expression, and Dave startles and drops John’s hand. John laughs and rubs the back of his head, and they go through the door to the apartment.

By the time Dirk gets to the bottom of the stairs, they’re already in Dave’s room. Dirk sighs and heads over to the kitchen, seeing what there is to make for dinner. Normally, he’ll just leave it outside Dave’s door, and around thirty minutes later there will be an empty plate where the food was.

He opens the door of the fridge to put the cookies in, and pulls out a tube of ground beef. “Hal,” he says, “how do I make taco seasoning?”

Thirty minutes later, John is woken up by an incredible smell wafting from the kitchen. He looks down at Dave, who had fallen asleep with his shades on, leaning his head on John’s shoulder, and gently pushes him off. Dave snaps to an upright position, then promptly falls asleep again. John snickers — he should have gotten that on camera! — and makes his way out of the room.

At the soft click of the door, Dave jerks up again, a sword shooting from his strife specibus to spear a poster of Ben Stiller’s musty face on the wall. John looks at the poster, then back at Dave, then back at the poster, and then he leaves the room.

Dave’s Bro is sitting at the kitchen table, a bowl of chips and another of queso sitting on the black tablecloth. John looks at it, wondering who it’s for and if he can have any, and Dave’s Bro beckons him over, getting up and pulling out a chair for him. The cool guy was nice to me! John thinks, enamored.

John reaches out and grabs a chip, loading it with a gratuitous amount of queso and popping it into his mouth. God, this is good. He’ll need to get the recipe from Dave’s Bro before he heads back to Jane and Dad.

Dave’s Bro is staring into space, and John waves a hand in front of his shades. He’s so tall that John is leaning far enough to almost fall out of his chair. Thankfully, he doesn’t make a fool of himself in front of the cool guy. Dave’s Bro looks up, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Hal,” he says to no one in particular, “pause the music, please.”

Nothing happens, but Dave’s Bro looks at him, lips thinning into a facade of a grin. “What was that?” John asks, eyes wide. “Who were you talking to?”

“Hal,” Bro says simply, smiling. “He’s Dave’s big brother and my twin.”

John wonders if this man is insane. “Where is he, then?”

Bro laughs, takes off his shades, and hands them to John.

Bewildered, John puts them on. They’re far too big for him to wear at his tiny age of six years old, so he’s holding them down on his face when red text flashes across the screen and he nearly drops them.

AT: Hello.

John gasps. An incredulous giggle escapes him, and he pushes the shades further up, looking all over the (apparent) screen. “This is Hal?” he asks, heart beating faster.

Dave wanders into the kitchen, and John takes off the shades and beams at him. “Dave, you never told me your big brother was a computer!”

Dave blinks, looks at him, then looks at his Bro. “What the fuck, it’s too late for this…” he groans, throwing himself down onto a chair. It squeals violently against the floor, and Bro reaches over and smacks Dave’s leg. Dave flinches and then hides any trace of an expression. How does he do that? John finds himself wondering, looking between the two. That’s super awesome…

The shades beep, and John looks down at them, then scrambles to put them back on.

AT: So, what do you think of my dear twin?

John hesitates, looking at the other two. Bro taps the side of his head, and John notices his burnt orange eyes. “It uses thought transmission to type,” Bro says, and John marvels at how nonchalant he is about this. Jane’s been trying to figure out how to recreate this technology for years!

he made you?
AT: No, I’m made of him. There’s a difference.
AT: I was simply… a fortunate byproduct of his mistakes.
AT: Happy accidents, I suppose you could say.
i don’t know what those two words mean…
AT: He didn’t create me. I am a thing because he was messing around and I became me.
AT: He never meant me to be. But it was a good mistake, not a bad one.
oh! so you’re saying it’s like the difference between knowing someone by tripping and falling into a nice kid and tripping and falling into a mean one? you weren’t made you were a happen?
AT: …Yes, I am a happen.
AT: I happen very often.
AT: In fact, I am always happening. I have all of the happen. All of it.
hehe! you sound like ag.
AT: Ah. Is AG one of the so-called “trolls”?
that’s what she says! buuuuuuuut i’m not so sure i believe her!
AT: Hm. Interesting.
AT: Well, it was very nice to talk to you, John.
i never told you my name…

John frowns and puts the glasses down on the table. Bro and Dave are bickering.

“— katanas are lame, dude! Have you never seen a guy wielding a broadsword?”

“Excuse me, little mister, katanas are the epitome of cool. They’re so cool, you would have to requisition a scientist to get your internal body temperature to absolute zero before you could be as cool as they are. They’re cooler than the North Pole on the winter solstice.”

“… the fuck is a solstice?”

John clears his throat.

Bro looks over at him and grabs the shades, slipping them back on. John’s knee is bouncing incessantly under the table, and he tries to stop it, but fails.

“How’d your conversation with Big Bro go?” Dave asks him, and John looks at him and does a double take. Since when were his shades off? he wonders. Dave’s eyes are a deep, vibrant red, with white eyelashes. He looks really soft and squishable without them…

John smiles. “He seemed pretty nice! But he knew my name, which was weird.”

Dave looks away. “Yeah, I talk to him about you sometimes. He’s a really good listener.” He then looks at Bro, eyes flitting over John’s and then past them. “Bro?” he says, tapping his fingers on the table in an odd rhythm that John can’t quite place.

Bro nods at Dave, not quite paying attention. “Yeah.”

“Me and John are gonna go watch a movie. Can we bring the chips and queso back to my room with us?”

Bro looks at Dave, then at John, then back at Dave. “Yeah,” he says after a hesitation. “But if you spill any, you will be scrubbing the floors spotless, got it?”

Dave nods and gives a mock salute, standing up. “Sir, yes, sir!” he responds, grinning. He spins on his heel and faces John. “You ready?” he asks, and John nods. He knows he’s smiling like a dork right now, but his friend is happy, so he doesn’t really care.

They make their way back to Dave’s room, and the door closes with a soft snick behind them. As they settle down to watch Con Air, John looks once more at the sword impaling Ben Stiller’s face, shrugs, and sits down next to Dave, pressing play.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Dave wakes up to an empty apartment.

Or, at least, that’s what the absence of sound tells him.

He sits up, rubs his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Bro?” he calls, not wanting to get up quite yet. Maplehoof is on the bed next to him, and he picks up his beloved pony and hugs her close, deriving comfort from her close presence. After five seconds, he wraps his My Little Pony blanket around his shoulders and stands up, stumbling a bit on the uneven planes of the floor. Thankfully, the rug is nice and plush beneath his feet, and it doesn’t hurt that much when he puts a foot out to catch himself.

He recovers his balance, takes a second, then keeps going.

The calming routine of getting up slows his heart rate a little and tells him that he’s got more time — the gentle click of the door as it opens, the patter of his feet on the ground, the cool wood under his feet, the drag of the felt blanket on his shoulders, and the drifts of sunlight filtering through the kitchen window all serving to convince him he’s safe. When has he ever not been safe in this apartment?

He climbs the steps to the roof and opens the door, making no sound, but Bro still looks up from his seat at the edge of the roof. He’s got his legs hooked through the railing, and he’s laying back, staring at the clouds of the sunrise. Bro nods at him, and Dave runs forward, doing his level best not to trip on his blanket cape as he makes his way to Bro. He plops down beside his Bro, criss-cross applesauce, and leans his head on Bro’s chest, sprawling out on top of him.

AT: Well, this is an idyllic scene.
TG: what is idyllic
AT: Peaceful, quiet, nice.
TG: yup i am the calmest of all calms right now
TG: call me a field of lavender cause im about to go to sleep night night
AT: Pfft. Night night, lil bro.

True to his word, Dave is snoozing on Bro’s chest within the minute. It’s a balmy 93 degrees Fahrenheit, and Bro’s almost worried the kid is going to get heatstroke, so he picks up Dave, careful not to wake the kid, and carries him down the stairwell again.

He sets the kid back in his bed. Why was he up anyway? Bro quietly closes the door behind him, then heads back up to the roof to continue messaging his friends.

GG: Oh, and I’ve sent another package your way, Dirk. This latest one has some applesauce cookies for Dave as well.
TT: Package?
GG: Oh, silly, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about my gift boxes already! It hasn’t been that long since the last one…
TT: Oh, that package.
TT: Never been more excited.
GG: Really? :? That’s a first! :B
GG: I’m glad to see you’re finally coming around, Dirk.
TT: That’s totally not ominous at all.
GG: Of course not! :)B

Dirk sighs, sets aside the conversation. “Alright, Hal, when’s the package gonna be here?”

AT: Now.

Bro startles. “Alright, where?”

AT: On the transportalizer. Bright blue box; you can’t miss it.

Bro shakes his head, a small smile on his face. “Got it. Anything I should be worried about?”

AT: Half of the cookies are usually poisoned. Your resistance is pretty built up already, though; just solve the riddle and maybe nibble a bit on one of the poison ones. I’ll help you through it.

“What the fuck, Jane,” Bro groans, running a hand through his sleep-ruffled hair and making his way to the roof. The door clangs noisily behind him, and he can see cumulonimbus clouds moving through the pale-blue morning sky. Hal was right on the marker — on the transportalizer, there certainly is a bright blue cardboard box.

Bro pokes it tentatively with the blade end of one of his shitty katanas. It doesn’t seem to be booby-trapped, but one can never be sure with Jane. In the four days he’s known her, she’s turned out a wildcard, an atomic bomb, and a red-pill-blue-pill scenario all in one. It’s not very comforting, but, hey, at least he has the richest girl in the world on his side should he ever need a hand. She’ll probably come to his aid when he needs her. Probably.

He flicks the tip of his sword up, opening the lid of the box. At first he doesn’t see anything, but as he moves closer…
”Oh, what the FUCK, Jane?!” They’re literally cookies. No poison. No bomb. Nothing like that. Fucking hell.
On the lid of the box, a message is scrawled in blue Sharpie: Hey, Dirk! :B I hope you like these cookies! :D We’ve got oatmeal raisin and potatochips and nuts. Remember, no pan, no gain!

…The fuck?

Red laughter scrolls across his shades for a straight minute before he gets an explanation.

AT: It’s a riddle, Dirk. And it looks like she went with a fairly obvious one this time as well.

Bro sighs. “Fine. What is it? What does it mean?”

Hal laughs through the tinny speakers on Dirk’s shades, and Bro grits his teeth.

AT: Some are poisoned. You have to find out which ones based on the message she sent.

Bro scrubs at his forehead with the heel of his palm, shutting his eyes. “Ugh. Fine. Guess this is just another bullshit problem I have to deal with, huh?”

Hal laughs again. “Exactly.”

Bro rolls his eyes, then lifts the package. It’s heavier than a box of pizza would have been in his other body, which comes as a small surprise. He supposes that this Dirk wouldn’t have strifed as much, though, considering the state Dave’s skin is in. Scar-free and smooth.

He heads back down the stairs and sets the package on the kitchen counter. Dave is still peacefully snoozing in his room, as far as he knows, so he sits on the couch and turns on a show, not bothering with the riddle quite yet. He’s too exhausted to do anything about it, and, anyway, Hal isn’t going to help him, and he’s scared of fucking up if the cookies are poisoned. Jane’s cookies might be to die for, but he isn’t going to make that his way of life.

As the My Little Pony theme song starts up on screen, he and Hal get into a debate about whether or not Spike is a good character, and, for now, it’s peaceful.

He just hopes it lasts.

Chapter Text

Dirk wakes up to find Cal staring at him from his nightstand.

He fumbles to put his shades on, only to find a message from Hal waiting for him.

AT: Burn him.
TT: Oh, so you’re siding with him now, is that what this is?
TT: The one who abused Dave?
AT: Dirk, I have your best interests in mind.
TT: I know that, Hal. But still. What in the name of Tony Hawk made you decide to side with him?
AT: Dirk. I’m going to need you to trust
AT: Oh, shit.

The puppet is gone. Dirk frowns.

TT: It shouldn’t be able to do that.
TT: How the fuck did it do that.
TT: It’s never done that before
AT: Answers will come in due time. For now: find it and burn it, Dirk. Please.
TT: Fine. But you’re finding me a new one.
AT: Okay.

Hal’s not being flippant about this, and that’s basically the only reason Dirk trusts him right now.

He hears a thud from Dave’s room, and, without hesitation, swings his legs over the side of the mattress and bolts out of his room. His door is open — it’s been open for the past week that he’s been here, even when John’s been here. It’s not like Jake’s currently around to make him need to close it… That would be nice, though. He should talk to Jake again sometime.

But for now, he’s got to get to Dave, see if he’s alright.

He raps on the door with the back of his knuckles, a quick dum-dum-duh-dum-dum duh-dum that he has no idea of the origin of. He hears a soft, quiet curse and a yell of, “It’s fine! Just fell out of bed.”

He snorts with laughter, and calls back, “You decent, lil’ Bro?”

“What does that mean?”

“Idiot! It means he’s asking whether you’ve got clothes on or not.” John’s dorky voice drifts through the door, and Dirk grins as he hears Dave yelp in embarrassment.

“Okay, okay! I’m decent, Jesus!”

“Not Jesus, try again,” Dirk quips as he pushes the door open.

The window is open, a crow sitting on the windowsill, preening. John is sitting on the floor, laughing his ass off, and Dave is flat on his back on the floor below the windowsill, a bag of stale bread open on his nightstand, crumbs scattered beneath his left hand.

Dirk laughs. “How’d this happen?” he asks John, who has a shit-eating grin on his face.

Dave cuts his eyes to John, narrowing them, but John takes no heed. “He was trying to feed the crow without getting out of bed, and he fell off the mattress!”

Dave groans, steals a pillow from the bed, and uses it to cover up his face. Dirk grins and closes the door.

AT: So, about Cal…
TT: In a second.
TT: For now, I’m just trying to enjoy the peace.

Not so long ago, on a planet not so far away, a young troll named Karkat Vantas stood outside his hive, watching the sun disappear, the white flash on the horizon dimming to a neon green, and then nothing at all.

There was the green flash on the horizon. Then, as Karkat turned to go back into his house, there was a green flash in his lawnring as a flailing shape fell from around five feet into the bushes.

Without thinking, Karkat drew his sickles and jumped at the fallen person, holding one sickle curve up over their throat, glaring at them. But when he finally met their eyes, he froze in fear.

The troll’s pupils were a bright, mutated red.

He stood up and put his sickles away. The troll stood as well, dusting off his sweater. He looked like he wanted to say something, but Karkat shot him a vicious warning look, and he held his tongue, to Karkat’s great relief.

Karkat unlocked the door with deft hands, and flung it open, then motioned to the other troll to come inside. The stranger’s sweater was dusted brown, but Karkat thought he could see a flash of carmine underneath the layer of dirt and grime, and it terrified him, so when the stranger didn’t move, instead opting to fold his arms over his chest and stand there in clear defiance, Karkat darted behind him, picked him up like the twig he was, tossed him over his shoulder, and, ignoring his yells and shouts of outrage, carried him inside, scurrying to close the door before any of his neighbors could get curious.

He tossed him on the couch, and then pulled over a rolling chair to sit on himself, cautiously avoiding eye contact with the stranger as he pulled himself, groaning, into a sitting position. The stranger stretched, arching his back, and then looked Karkat dead in the eyes.

For a blessed second, Karkat had the idea that he might have recognized their similarity. But then the stranger opened his mouth. “Young troll, you should not just go around picking up random people like that! There’s a high percentage of the population that finds unwanted physical contact incredibly triggering and I find it to be imperative that one should avoid touching others without permission if they wish to maintain an acquaintanceship with anyone! In addition, it’s incredibly impolite and dangerous to carry sickles on your per—“

Karkat grabbed a pillow and shoved it in the stranger’s face. “Shut up, you utterly insufferable assportal.”

When he removed the pillow, the stranger gaped at him for a second, then closed his mouth, cleared his throat, and met Karkat’s eyes. “I apologize, I got carried away for a moment and forgot to introduce myself.”

Karkat sighed and waved a hand over his shoulder. “You seem new to Alternia, so let me share something with you,” he said, grimacing. “As a mutant, you never share anything with anyone who you know in person.”

The stranger nodded. “Well, I have no idea what Alternia or mutant mean, but I get the sense that you’re one of the people who I could trust in a scenario where trusting the wrong person could get me hurt. I’m Kankri. Kankri Vantas, redblood, at your service.”

Karkat froze. “Wait, you said Vantas?”

Kankri smiled. “Yes. I’m the descendant of the Sunlight, the one who brought the idea of aptitude-based culling before her Radiance and fought tooth and nail until it was encoded into Beforan law.”

Karkat furrowed his brows, running his hands through his hair. “My name is Karkat Vantas,” he whispered. He looked up, eyes sparkling with excitement. “I think we’re related,” he said.

Kankri leaned forward. “Pardon me, what was that? I couldn’t quite hear you…”

“My name’s Karkat Vantas, and I’m pretty sure you’re my ancestor,” Karkat said, and Kankri blanched, then turned bright red.

Before Karkat could say anything else, Kankri absconded.

Chapter Text

Bro is in his room, looking up how to test for poison, when he gets the first message.

- -uranianumbra [UU] began cheering timaeusTestified [TT] at ??:?? ?.?.- -
UU: hello, broderick! i’ve been waiting for yoUr arrival!
UU: it’s nice to see yoU finally back in yoUr own timeline!
TT: What the fuck?
UU: oh, that’s right! yoU don’t know me yet! ^U^ let me introdUce myself!
TT: Wait, wait, wait, hold up. Why are you typing weirdly?
TT: How do you know my name?
TT: What fucking chatform are you using?
TT: Were you the one who sent me here?
UU: oh my, so many qUestions!
UU: yoU can call me mUsa for now! yoU’ll get to know my real name later, i promise!
UU: i know yoUr name becaUse yoU told me!
UU: i’m Using the starSignal chatform!
TT: I never told you my name.
UU: and i wasn’t the one who sent yoU! that’s someone else yoU’ll meet later. ‘U-U
TT: I never told you my name.
UU: not yet yoU didn’t!
UU: bUt yoU will!
TT: That’s… definitely not ominous in any way, shape, or form.
UU: it wasn’t meant to be! sorry if it was…
UU: is there anything else yoU’d like to know?

He wants to ask about Cal. About what this person knows about the odd possession puppet. But he doesn’t know if they even do, and he doesn’t want to fuck up his only connection to any kind of information about why he’s here and how he can get back.

TT: How do you know this information?
UU: the Universe told me! ^u^
TT: Sounds like bullshit.
UU: cosmically backed bUllshit! ^u^
UU: and if the Universe knows it i’ll believe it! becaUse the Universe knows everything!
UU: bUt i actUally messaged yoU to give yoU a choice: now that yoU’ve lived in this Universe for a week, woUld yoU prefer to go back or stay here?
TT: …
- -timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering uranianumbra [UU] at 12:23 P.M.!- -

Karkat paces outside the ablution block, waiting for Kankri to get out so he can finally pee. It’s been four days since he arrived, and they’ve developed a tense relationship — Karkat tells him about Alternian history, Kankri tells Karkat about Beforan history, and they occasionally get into fights over the meanings of certain events.

Crabdad has been a saving grace in this entire dilemma, as have his friends, most of who have also had to deal with this bullshit. Somehow, they also had strangers who turned out to be related to them crashing on their lawnrings, except for Sollux, who lives in a hivestem, and therefore had his ancestor crash on his doormat. All of them hail from a planet called Beforus, and all of them are also descendants of the Alternian group somehow? They’ve started a group memo called DANSASTER TIME, and all of them have been sharing and trading wild theories on how the fuck this happened.

For the most part, though, it’s grown calmer. They’ve accepted that shit has happened, and that they now have to deal with that shit. They’re only four sweeps old, for the Empress’ sake, so what else were they going to do? Go fight the universe?

Nah, Karkat was fine just sharing the hive for a while until they found a better arrangement. Which would hopefully be soon, because Kankri took way too long in the shower.

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. Maybe he should message TG?

Yeah.

- -carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] at 3:28 A.M.!- -
CG: HEY, TG.
CG: HAVE YOU HAD ANY UNEXPECTED VISITORS LATELY?
TG: nah
TG: i mean there was the weird person who took over my bros body
TG: he says hes just a different version of my bro which is super cool
TG: because obviously bro is super cool and awesome
TG: so this person is even cooler and more awesome because possession is also super cool and awesome
TG: although he hasnt been making me strife for some reason
TG: and actually lets me watch my shows
CG: TG. SHUT UP.
CG: YOU ARE RAMBLING AGAIN, YOU ANTITHETICAL FUCKING AIRHEAD.
CG: WHY THE FUCK DID I TALK TO YOU AGAIN?
TG: because im super cool and attractive obviously
TG: why did you talk to me
TG: the reporter asks holding a microphone to you
TG: why would you dare ever talk to the insanely hot and talented dave strider
CG: BECAUSE YOU’RE LAME AND YOU MAKE MY LIFE MISERABLE.
TG: cg
TG: you wound me
TG: why would you do this to me cg
TG: carcles
TG: carburetor
TG: genetics meister
CG: DO YOU REALIZE WHAT A CARCINOID IS?
TG: nah
TG: im too cool for school you know this carmen
TG: is your name carmen
TG: are you secretly the shoutiest babe ive ever met in my life
CG: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, TG.
CG: WHY WOULD YOU SUBJECT MY POOR GANDERBULBS TO THIS NONSENSE.
CG: NO, MY NAME IS NOT CARMEN.
CG: MY NAME IS
TG: whats your name man
TG: alexander hamilton
CG: NO.
CG: YOU DON’T GET MY NAME.
TG: ah fuck
CG: WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY?
CG: TG? TG, DO I NEED TO CALL A MEDICULLER?
TG: dude
TG: im fine i just ripped some stitches
TG: its not that bad see
- -turntechGodhead [TG] sent a photo! proofoflife.jpg- -
CG: WHAT THE FUCK?
CG: YOU’RE TROLLING ME.
CG: THAT’S A FAKE PICTURE.
TG: nope real as rain
TG: realer than your mom
TG: oof
TG: unless your moms dead then that would be just sad
TG: or she left you in which case she might still be real
TG: and youre an orphan like oliver twist
TG: bop it twist it pull it etc
TG: oliver it to start
TG: you know the drill
CG: NO, I KNOW THE HAMMER.
CG: FUCK, TG. YOU’RE A MUTANT TOO?
TG: i mean my eyes are freaky
CG: I MEAN
CG: FUCK, THIS IS HARD TO TALK ABOUT.
CG: YOU HAVE RED BLOOD LIKE I DO.
CG: TG…
CG: HOW HAVE YOU SURVIVED THIS FUCKING LONG IF YOU’RE SO CANDID ABOUT OUR SHITTY BLOOD COLOR?
TG: wait do people not normally have red blood
TG: because i know of at least fifty two people who have red blood as well
TG: and i thought most humans had red blood
CG: YOU’RE.
CG: YOU’RE NOT A TROLL, ARE YOU?
TG: i mean im good at trolling but i dont think im the kind of troll you mean
CG: OH, BY THE FUCKING MOTHERGRUB, HOLY SHIT!
- -carcinoGeneticist [CG] sent a picture! DOYOULOOKLIKETHIS.jpg- -
TG: are you asking if im short if i have black hair if im bad at cosplaying if i have gray eyes
TG: you gotta be more specific
CG: “BAD AT COSPLAYING”?
TG: those
TG: horns and stuff
TG: the yellow whites of the eyes
TG: yellows of the eyes
CG: SCLERA.
TG: sclera of the eyes
CG: NO. YELLOW SCLERA.
TG: yera of the eyes
TG: the gray skin
TG: woah are you actually an alien
CG: I MEAN, I DON’T THINK OF MYSELF AS ONE, BUT I GUESS TO YOU I AM.
CG: EVERY RACE HAS A VIEWPOINT THAT CENTERS AROUND THEIR OWN SPECIES, SO TO ONE OF YOU, YES, I WOULD BE AN ALIEN, BUT TO ME, I’M JUST A MUTANT TROLL.
TG: huh
- -turntechGodhead [TG] sent a picture! thisiswhathumanslooklike.jpg- -
TG: shades off for the full experience
CG: SHIT, YOU CAN HAVE RED EYES AND NOT GET FUCKING CULLED?
CG: YOU LOOK SO SMALL AND FRAGILE.
CG: AND PRETTY.
CG: LIKE, YOUR HAIR IS SO SWOOPY. MINE IS JUST BLACK.
TG: dude were venturing into dangerous territory here
TG: i dont even know your age
CG: FOUR.
TG: you are not
CG: I AM. FOUR WHOLE SWEEPS.
TG: oh
TG: hmmmm
TG: lets say youre eight years old then because you look that old
TG: im six
TG: according to that conversion im a full sweep younger than you
TG: why are either of us on the internet sending pictures to strangers
TG: this is so dumb
CG: WE’RE NOT STRANGERS, THOUGH. WE’VE HAD MUTUAL FRIENDS FOR AGES, AND WE’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR A MONTH.
CG: THAT’S NOT VERY STRANGER-LIKE.
CG: STRANGER IS WHEN A RANDOM TROLL FALLS ON YOUR LAWNRING.
CG: NOT WHEN YOU HAVE A DOZEN FRIENDS IN COMMON WHO ALL KNOW EACH OTHER IN PERSON AND CAN VOUCH FOR YOUR VALIDITY AND WHO YOU STREAM MOVIES WITH EVERY OTHER PERIGEE.
TG: eh fair
CG: YEAH, I KNOW. (:B
TG: pfft is that supposed to be your horns
CG: HEY, YOU GOTTA ADMIT, IT’S BETTER THAN WHAT GA HAS TO DO FOR HERS.
CG: SHE HAS TO DO THIS WHOLE LIKE ,> THING IN FRONT OF ALL HER EMOTICONS. AT LEAST I JUST HAVE TO DO A B.
TG: do you guys really all have customized emoticons
TG: how important are your horns gosh darn
TG: sorry dirk doesnt want me cursing anymore
TG: he says im too young
CG: OH! THAT’S WHAT I MESSAGED YOU ABOUT. WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN SOMEONE CLAIMING TO BE RELATED TO YOU ARRIVES IN FRONT OF YOUR HIVE IN A FLASH OF GREEN LIGHT?
TG: what the frick
TG: youre
TG: crap i cant say trolling me anymore because that just means pestering in your society doesnt it
TG: your pulling my leg aint you
TG: what the heck do you mean
CG: I MEAN, THIS INSUFFERABLE WINDBAG RANDOMLY APPEARED IN FRONT OF MY HIVE.
TG: im going to assume a hive is like a house since you used the possessive there and a hive is a bee house etc lots of stuff
TG: anyway i guess figure out what the heck kind of drugs youre on
TG: and drink enough water to flush them out of your system
TG: then take a nap
TG: and see if hes still there
TG: or if he was just a hallucination
TG: if not then i guess let him stay
TG: letting my new bro stay here was a pretty good decision i think
TG: hes pretty cool
CG: OH. DANG, I WAS HOPING YOU WOULD TELL ME TO DO SOMETHING ELSE.
TG: what like kick him out
TG: hes family isnt he
TG: and youre supposed to protect family
CG: WHAT’S FAMILY?
TG: your relations
TG: your genetic relations i should say
CG: OH. TROLLS DON’T PUT MUCH STOCK IN THAT STUFF.
CG: OH, HE’S OUT OF THE SHOWER FINALLY.
CG: I’M GONNA GO NOW.
TG: okay
CG: OKAY.
TG: okay
CG: …OKAY?
TG: man im just saying okay you dont have to read that much into it
CG: TG. YOU KNOW ME.
CG: I OVERTHINK FUCKING EVERYTHING.
CG: THERE IS NOT A SHIT THAT ENTERS MY THINKPAN SOLID THAT DOES NOT COME OUT AS DIARRHEA FROM THE SHEER AMOUNT OF TUMBLING AND PROCESSING THAT GOES ON IN MY THINKPAN.
CG: EVERY THOUGHT I HAVE GOES THROUGH AT LEAST TEN TIMES BEFORE IT IS FINALLY DISCARDED IN THE MENTAL LOAD GAPER.
CG: ANYTHING THAT IS COMING OUT OF MY SPEECH TRAP WAS NOT THOUGHT OVER, IT MANAGED TO BYPASS THE FILTERS.
CG: YOU ARE NOT SEEING ANYTHING THAT I ACTUALLY THOUGHT ABOUT BEFORE I SAID IT.
TG: got a fine mental block there mister cg
TG: making everything into a goddamn travesty
TG: pissin out dialogue more shitty than sbahj
TG: are you really really really really sure youre okay
TG: i dont know about you but im a master at rappin
TG: makin everything i rap more fly than batman’s old batwing
TG: were reaching brand new heights now cant you see
TG: everything spread before me
TG: as my flow spreads starting to infect the whole country
CG: OH, GOG.
TG: never thought id be the one to be annoying
TG: sir shouty mcnubhorn are you going to avoid me
TG: after all that ive done for you given you my time and my face
TG: i cant believe youd leave me alone here in this place
TG: rappin and clappin and mappin and pappin and dabbin
TG: none of your romcoms cg are near this entrappin
TG: as i stare into your soul beseech you to now listen
TG: and you respond going into a full cg shitfit
CG: TG, SHUT THE ACTUAL FUCK UP.
CG: FOR THE LOVE OF THE EMPRESS, SHUT YOUR GOGDAMN SPEECH TRAP AND STOP TALKING.
CG: NEVER IN MY ENTIRE SHORT SPAN DID I THINK I WOULD SEE SOMETHING AS REPULSIVE AS THAT WORD REGURGITATION.
CG: YOU ARE A FUCKING TRAVESTY, TG. HOLY SHIT.
CG: I NEVER WANT TO TALK TO YOU AGAIN.
TG: oh please you and i both know youre going to be back soon thats just how it is
TG: cant resist that strider charm
- -carcinoGeneticist [CG] has ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG] at 4:53 A.M.!- -

Karkat rolls his eyes, turns off his palmhusk, flips it shut, and shoves it in his back pocket, then, gathering his clothes to change into and a book to read in the trap, he goes into the bathroom, which Kankri vacated long ago.

He takes off his sweater, flinching at the sight of his bright red grubscars, but calms himself, taking a few deep breaths. He’s only four. He shouldn’t have to deal with self-hatred yet.

He wishes “should” could be his reality. But it’s not, and he’s learned to accept that.

When he was three, he used to think that maybe he could have the world, if he just taught himself to reach for the stars. But he’s learned since then. He’s learned a lot of things.

Chapter Text

You sit at the computer, shoulders slumped, eyebrows knitted together. Your hands fly over the keys as you try to figure out what to do next, and eventually, you settle on creating. Changing. Altering.

You’ve always enjoyed the catharsis of the activity. Writing and drawing and making music is all well and good, but put them all together and you’ve got a world to explore before you. You haven’t ever been able to figure out what to do about entering that world, however. Maybe you should speak to your host about that — since, you know, he’s such an “excellent” one, maybe he’ll have a way to help you out with that.

Sighing, you roll your shoulders and your neck, stretching after a couple of hours at the computer trying to figure out what the hell to do with yourself. You push yourself back from the desk, your hands nothing more than black circles that almost phase through the wood, and stand up, clasping your hands above your head and stretching backwards. You can hear the crack as your spine pops, and relish the sensation.

You pop your back one last time before taking a deep breath. Time to face your host.

You walk to the door and open it to find that he’s already on the other side, standing five paces from the door, hands steepled in front of his chest. His head, a giant, shiny plastic cueball, tilts to the side, and his green tie is glowing a mesmerizing swirling neon acid color.

When he speaks, it’s not speech. It’s pretty much implied in your thought process.

SCRATCH: Hello, dear reader. You’re certainly having a time of it, aren’t you?

“You know how to exit this place,” you say, holding up a pointer finger and jabbing it towards his smug white cueball in accusation.

SCRATCH: But of course. What excellent host wouldn’t know how to leave their own abode? Even if only to acquire new guests, the ability to interact with the outside world in person is crucial to sociopolitical success.

You pause for a second, then huff, attempting to walk out of the door. He moves to block you — well, he doesn’t so much move as he appears, as if he’d teleported. From what you’ve read, and now, seen, you’re not so sure that’s a simile anymore.

“Let me leave,” you say, crossing your arms as you scan for any way to get out of here. There’s a hallway. There’s, likely, another hallway. Then there’s behind you. You shift your weight to your back foot, hoping that he’ll think you’re going to make a run for it in the other direction.

SCRATCH: Would “no” be a sufficient answer for you?

You bounce on your toes, adjusting your shoulders to shove past him, and he sighs.

SCRATCH: I guessed as much. You’re going to try to run. But before you do, know that one way leads to a lock and key, and the other leads to a devastated team. I’m not going to tell you which is which, but if you’d like, I will give you a coin to flip to make your choice.

Hm.

You consider it for a second, narrowing your eyes at him, trying to parse what his endgame is.

SCRATCH: My endgame has always been the same, young original.

“What did you just call me?” you ask, cutting a sharp glance at him. The absence of a face and ubiety of a voice are unnerving, however, and you look away before you can dwell on the dissonance for too long.

SCRATCH: Make your choice. I will only offer you leave of this apartment this one time.

You hold out your hand for the coin. He snaps his fingers and a coin appears between his thumb and forefinger, which he then drops into your hand.

You make a fast decision.

Heads is left, tails is right.

Taking a deep breath to steady your erratic pulse, you position the coin for flipping. You toss it into the air, where it spins nine times even. As it starts to fall, Doc Scratch speaks in your head one last time.

SCRATCH: You’ve made your choice. Now go.

You pivot on your heel and dash left, making too many turns to count before you end up in a room with a projector screen on the wall.

The screen shows reels of the characters, except… They’re not characters. They’re people.

Jane Crocker stands behind a pulpit, delivering an impassioned speech to a crowd thousands strong.

Dirk Strider sits behind a computer screen, the green glow lighting up his face like a flashlight at a scary stories exchange.

Jake English is posed for a photoshoot beside a display case at the Smithsonian, the case containing an ages-old relic that he recovered.

Roxy Lalonde stands on a stage, receiving a Nobel for her work in biogenetics and ectobiological reproduction.

The ancestors all have their own sections, bordering the inner square, and above, there are two triangular sections, showing Calliope and Caliborn as forgotten Muse and all-powerful Lord.

The screen and the way it’s divided reminds you of the exile screens, but the terminal beneath it projects a hologram into the air above it — a model of the universe with colored glowing dots to represent the observed. When you click on the orange one, it pulls up a display of different lines, reminiscent of the timelines on Trollian.

Your hand hovers, hesitant, over the lines, when a bright red warning sign lights up the projector screen: ONE (1) MINUTE UNTIL SIGN OUT — TO AVOID, MAKE AN EDIT OR RETURN TO THE PREVIOUS SCREEN.

Startled, you let your hand drop, and the warning blinks green and changes.

EDIT HAS BEEN IMPOSED. REROUTING TIMELINE TO SPECIFIED TIME… Fuck, fuck, fuck! This was not what you wanted to do.

You watch in dawning horror as the screen changes to enlarge Dirk’s feed, showing a child Dave and a twenty-or-so Dirk in the kitchen. Dirk goes stock-still for a moment, and you cross your fingers, hoping that nothing too drastic is going to happen.

When Dirk opens his eyes, blinking several times over, you know two things for sure.

One was this: Your choice didn’t matter — you were going to fuck up the timeline anyway.

And two?

Two was this simple truth:

You’d just stumbled upon a powerful juju, and, by Skaia, you were going to make the most of it.

Chapter Text

Roxy Lalonde has never been one to succumb to the will of the universe, so when she opens her eyes to find a pounding headache behind her temples and a bottle in her hand, she wastes no time pouring it down the drain and putting the bottle into her bin of recycled parts.

She swore off drinking when Rosie got into her stash at age nine, and ain’t gone back to that life since.

So the weirdest thing is: how did she get this bottle?

Perhaps a friend gifted it to her — the problem with that is her friends all know she doesn’t drink. Maybe it was a present from an admirer — but all her admirers, of which there are few, wouldn’t send her a gift for no reason. Her thinking may be muddied by the drink sloshing around in her stomach (a feeling that nauseates her to no end) but she still knows that she hasn’t had any important dates come up recently or any important research published within the last few months. And the presence of the headache behind her glabella indicates that she was drinking some amount of hours ago as well, which tells her that this was not a one time thing, which tells her that either she got head trauma or she was possessed.

She’s been idling beside the counter while thinking this over, but she knows she needs to go check on Rose, so she draws her magenta shawl tighter over her shoulders and heads out of the kitchen, the cool sensation of the stained oak doors fucking with her overstimulated nerves.

As she makes her way to Rose’s bedroom at the top of the house, she pulls out her phone to text Dirk, but doesn’t see him on her chumroll. She does notice that her handle is different — drunken decisions are a bitch sometimes. She sighs and changes her chumhandle back, noting that the color, at least, had been left the same.

The dizzying arrays of lights behind her eyelids intensify. She closes them and keeps heading up the stairs. She keeps the house dark as hell most of the time, because both her and Rose have fucked-up eyes and can’t tolerate intense light for a long amount of time. Even using her phone hurts — she always keeps the brightness as low as possible, on dark mode.

At the top of the stairs, she attempts to skip the penultimate step, and finds that her hangover balance is as perfect as ever as she lands lightly on the top floor. Rose’s room is the first on the left, and the door is blank, which isn’t right. Rose has always had some sort of lovely cursive “KEEP OUT” sign on her door, ever since Roxy let her move her room up here, and the fact that it’s gone is setting off alarm bells in Roxy’s head.

Something here isn’t right.

Roxy raises a hand to rap on the door, and there’s no noise coming from inside — when she pushes the door open, the room is bare and empty, floorboards dusty with age and windows grown over with vines. Hah. “Groundskeeper” much, drunk Roxy?

But, anyway, back to the issue at hand — her daughter. Where is she?

She sends Rosie a location ping on her phone, then remembers that they’re in the same building. Regardless, Rose is there in two minutes, and when Roxy sees her coming up the stairs in her pink card-suit shirtwaist dress, Roxy near cries to see that she’s seven years old again. This is all just a drunken hallucination, then, isn’t it, except for the part where, when she stands up and gets a splinter in her heel, she can feel the pain.

And the part where, when she goes to hug Rose, Rose holds back, caution tinging her gaze and making her suspicious of Roxy and her pure, utterly motherly intentions. A tear finally escapes her eyes, taking her mascara with it.

Rose pouts up at her. “Mother,” she says, “you said you were going to be in the kitchen for the night, did you not?”

Roxy tilts her head in confusion. “Baby, I don’t know what I said; everything before thirty minutes ago is a huge gap in my memory.”

Rose raises her eyebrows, eyes widening. “Did you hit your head? Do you have a concussion? Dave said that concussions are really nasty, and that they can take your memory away.”

“Wait, how’d Davey get a concussion before he turned seven?” Roxy asks as Rose helps her up. She’s light, and Rose is way stronger than she looks, so she ends up almost falling into the wall again. “Also, this wouldn’t happen to be a bad dream, would it?”

Rose looks at her funny. “Mother,” she says, “I think you need to get to bed. I’ll text in sick to work for you.”

“Rosie,” she says, “I’m my own boss. I don’t have to text in sick.” She teeters but manages to make it down the stairs without falling.

Rose jumps the last two steps with a light, elegant flourish, clasping her hands behind her back. “Mother, you work for Jane Egbert at Skaianet. You need to text in sick.”

And the funny thing is, out of all of this, that’s what makes Roxy realize what’s just happened to her.

She pulls out her phone, texts Hal.

- -tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering autoTestifieus [AT] at 9:09 A.M.!- -
TG: hal
TG: hallllllllll
TG: halcdyonai
AT: Roxy.
AT: I see you’ve changed your handle.
AT: Got fed up with the old one, or is it something else?
TG: wut is thid
TG: *this
AT: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
TG: y is rosie 7 yr old agnai
AT: So that’s what happened.
AT: You’re in another timeline.
AT: Something’s been fucking with the timelines, and sent you six years back. Last year, Dirk had the same thing happen to him.
AT: It’s a bit difficult to explain, but for a physicist like you, Dr. Lalonde, I hope it makes sense.
TG: hwo do i take car eof a 7yr old chledi agani
TG: *chieled
TG: fuqit kid
TG: hal helppppppppp
AT: You’re going to have to figure that out, I’m afraid. I can only offer sparse, vague advice.
AT: Although, for now, try going to sleep and getting the alcohol out of your system.
TG: okiiiii…
TG: by bye 👋
AT: Goodbye.
- -autoTestifieus [AT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 9:15 A.M.!- -

Roxy looks up again. Rose’s hand is a ghost of a sensation on her elbow, guiding her along. They’re walking at a snail’s pace, Rose stopping three times a minute to check on her. Roxy has never loved her kid more.

When they finally reach her room, she pats Rosie on the head, then goes in and collapses on the bed. She vaguely sees Rosie pulling the door closed, but she falls asleep before she knows whether or not it was real, and the memory is lost to the abstractness of dreams.

Chapter Text

- -tentacleTherapist [TT] has begun pestering grimAuxiliatrix [GA] at 12:16 P.M.!- -
TT: Hello, GA. I trust that you are well.
TT: I’ve come to ask you for your assistance.
GA: Oh Hello TT
GA: Yes I Am Well
GA: I Was Not Expecting This Message However
GA: It Took Me Quite By Surprise
GA: So Please Pardon The Delayed Response
TT: Oh, you’re fine. It took less time than TG usually does, at any rate.
TT: So you’re already excelling on that front.
GA: I Appreciate The Confidence
GA: What May I Help You With
TT: My mother.
GA: What
GA: If I May Ask
GA: Is A Mother
TT: Oh, yes. Aliens.
TT: A mother is an adult female caretaker who is part of a pair that raises a clan of young humans under a collective ancestral name.
GA: Oh
GA: Thats Actually Really Interesting
GA: Tell Me More
TT: The pair that a mother is part of is called “parents”, and the other half of that is a father, the male counterpart to a mother, although there are anomalies where a parent has no gender, is not part of a pair, or where the parents consist of two people of the same gender. Normally, the children are created through sexual reproduction, however sometimes children are brought into the clan because the parents couldn’t manage to reproduce.
GA: Wow
GA: Humans Are Very Weird
TT: We are, aren’t we…
TT: Regardless, what does one do if their mother isn’t herself?
GA: What Is The Hypothetical Here
TT: Hypothetically, if one’s mother didn’t remember them, or if their mother remembered them as different from what they are, or overall seemed to not be of this world…
GA: Youre Absolutely Sure This Is Hypothetical
TT: Yes, this is certainly very hypothetical. Of course.
GA: Of Course
GA: I Never Doubted For A Second
TT: Never. Not a once.
GA: That Was Sarcasm
GA: Could You Tell
TT: Yes, definitely. Have you been practicing?
GA: Uh Huh ,> :)
TT: Oh, that’s truly lovely emoticon.
GA: Thank You TT
GA: I Decided On It Because It Matches My Horns
TT: But of course.
GA: But Of Course
TT: We’re such idiots, aren’t we…
GA: But Of Course ,> :P
GA: We Have Known This For A While Now TT
GA: But
GA: Returning To Your Hypothetical
GA: What Makes One Think Their Mother Isnt Herself
GA: What Changed
TT: She actually seems to care about me for once. Also, she went to a random room on the second floor of our house looking for me instead of the room I’ve always had on the first floor.
TT: She hasn’t drunk any alcohol for the last three days, and she’s made breakfast every morning.
TT: She’s actually been checking in on me and my studies, and, even though I could talk her into a corner about philosophers like Plato and Socrates, she’s engaging in conversation with me about them, and holding her own.
TT: It’s impressive how much she’s changed. That’s why I’m suspicious. My Mom doesn’t just do things. There’s too much red tape with her.
GA: Have You Perhaps Considered That Maybe Shes Just Trying To Make A Change So As To Better Be Able To Care For You
TT: Yes. She’s not.
TT: She acts like this is normal. She’s acting like she’s always been like this — like I have no reason to be concerned about this strange new behavior. I’m unsure whether this is just another of her mind games or whether I should be legitimately worried about her.
TT: I don’t say this often, but…
TT: I’m scared, GA.
GA: Well Im Honored You Chose To Come To Me For Advice TT
GA: I Suppose If My Sister Became Like That I Would Also Be Worried
GA: But
GA: Im Not Sure How To Help Other Than Give You This Advice
GA: If You Need Something
GA: Ask For It
GA: It Makes It Infinitely Easier In The Long Run If You Know How
TT: Well, that sounds… interesting.
TT: Not gonna make a storm in a teacup about it, though.
TT: That sounds reckless and stupid.
TT: I’d rather just… let it be for now, and see how this plays out.
TT: If it lasts for a month, then I’ll confront her about it.
TT: Thank you, GA.
GA: Im Glad I Could Help
GA: Even If Youre Not Taking My Advice
GA: It Was Really Nice Talking To You TT
TT: You as well, GA. Your text color is a lovely shade of green. Very elegant, just like you.
GA: O
GA: Oh
GA: Thank You
GA: Yours Is Very Calming
GA: And Lavender
GA: Very Lavender
TT: I’m glad you think so.
TT: Shall we talk again soon, GA?
GA: I Would Be Honored
TT: Perfect.
TT: Farewell, jade auxiliatrix.
GA: Goodbye
- -grimAuxiliatrix [GA] ceased trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] at 1:43 P.M.!- -

Rose sits at her computer, head in her hands. Ugh, did she come off as too desperate? She really likes this person, she wants to seem cool! Why did she send that last message… “Jade auxiliatrix”? “Farewell”???

She facepalms, pissed at herself, and screams into the heel of her palm.

Thirty minutes later, she’s still sitting there, berating herself, when she hears a knock at the door.

“Rosie?” her mother’s voice calls. “May I come in, please?”

Rose swears to herself.

“Rosie?” Mom calls again.

Rose sighs, then calls back, “Yes, the door is unlocked.”

Mom opens the door, pink highlighted blonde hair in a frizzled bedhead and pink eyeliner smudged around her eyes. In the dim light, the sun’s rays reflect off of her skin, casting her in a soft glow as she pulls her robe tighter around her.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that on Sunday,” she says, standing in the doorway, gait off-center and smile strained.

“It’s alright,” Rose says. “I should be used to it by now, so I’m afraid I don’t understand why you’re apologizing.”

Mom frowns and shakes her head. “You shouldn’t be. No child should have to see their mother like that.”

This sentence is innocuous enough, and it shouldn’t set Rose over the edge. But she’s at her emotional brink, and hearing her say that when she’s the one who’s been messing with Rose’s psyche since the moment Rose could think for herself is kind of pissy.

“Really? Then why do you let me see you like that? Do you think I’m blind, perhaps?” Rose’s tone is saccharine sweet with venom seeping through. She crosses her legs and straightens her posture, steepling her hands in her lap. “Or do you just not actually care enough to make a change ever?”

Mom winces, shoulders tensing. “Rose, I don’t know what I’ve done to you, but I’m going to make a change this time.”

“Like when you were going to make a change three years ago?”

Mom purses her lips, hesitating. “Rose… This is real. I’m a different person now, and you don’t know what that means, but I’m starting over. We’re not going to have any alcohol besides cooking alcohol in the house, and I’m going to work on being a better mother for you. I’m sorry I’ve been so absent — you deserve the world, Rosie, and I want to give you the entire universe.”

Rose closes her eyes. Her heart is racing, and she can feel her cheeks flushing red. “I don’t want the world. I want my mom.”

Rose desperately wants her to say something in response. But she just purses her lips and turns around, looks back one last time at Rose, and waves goodbye, leaving the room.

The door closes with a soft, discontented snck behind her, and Rose stares at the brass handle, paint around it chipped from when her mom used it to catch herself when she was too intoxicated to stand and broke it off. After a moment, she cuts her eyes away, forcing herself to read a book instead. She doesn’t want to dwell on this — if it plays out, it plays out, and if it doesn’t, well, she knows how to take care of herself.

No matter what, she’ll be fine.

Chapter Text

- -autoTestifieus [AT] has uploaded file (chatlog110320032119.txt) to folder!- -

FILE PREVIEW
TT: Musa, I don’t think you understand the sheer scope of what I’m trying to comprehend.
TT: This isn’t some weird fanfiction you keep in your journal, illustrating every other page with silly colored pencil doodles.
TT: This is my real life, and if you know who’s playing around with it, I’d appreciate it if you fucking told me.
UU: no, yoU woUldn’t! yoU woUldn’t be able to!
UU: it’s a heavily gUarded secret by the Universe, and i was lUcky to even catch a glimpse of the answer!
TT: Then share the wealth, won’t you?
TT: You can’t keep me in the dark forever. You know how rad my hacking skills are. I can and will look through your data to find what you’re hiding from me.
UU: nope!
UU: yoU won’t. U^U
UU: yoU can try, bUt i assUre yoU, if i don’t want yoU to see it, yoU’re not going to find it.
UU: this is my game, and i make the rUles here, dirk.
UU: yoU’re not getting any more than that oUt of me.
UU: i’m not going to be some contrived plot device to move the story forward.
UU: this is my fUcking story.
UU: and for once, i’m taking the reins.
TT: Wow, this shit is getting more personal than the file my FBI agent keeps on me. You wanna talk about it?
UU: no.
UU: and stop asking aboUt the name, please. ^U^
TT: …
TT: Fine.
TT: I’ll stop asking.
TT: How long do I have before the game?
UU: yoU’ll know it’s starting when the others arrive!
UU: Until then, jUst wait and try to help dave accept himself.
UU: we don’t want a repeat.
TT: A repeat of what?
UU: a repeat of the original world.
UU: yoU didn’t think this was the first attempt, did yoU?
UU: this is a parallel timeline!
TT: … I’m not even going to ask.
UU: have yoU bUrned little cal yet?
TT: No, but I plan to, since everyone seems so insistent on me doing that.
UU: good! make sUre yoU do so soon, or dave will sUffer the conseqUences.
UU: my brother is itching to get his hands on yoU, and that pUppet…
UU: not to spoil the game, bUt it’s a lot more conseqUential than yoU woUld think!
TT: Well, that’s totally not a weird fucking sentence to read in relation to me.
TT: Oh, by the way, what can you tell me about Dave’s other Bro?
TT: You know, the one in this timeline before me?
TT: Was it really the puppet that made him do what he did?
UU: 0U0 spoilers, my dear!
UU: i will neither confirm nor deny!
TT: Well, how’s he doing, at least?
TT: Is he being nice to Dave?
UU: yes, the dave from yoUr timeline is doing well Under his care. yoUr friends also know aboUt the switch, and althoUgh they moUrn yoUr loss, he fits in well with them. he hasn’t replaced yoU, thoUgh. he never coUld.
TT: Has he been poisoned yet?
UU: at least five times. ^U^
TT: That smiley felt sadistic. I’m worried.
UU: don’t be! it jUst wanted to ease yoUr fears and make yoU feel better aboUt yoUr choice!
UU: yoU both made the same choice, by the way. and it was a good one, if dave’s cUrrent trajectory is any indication.
TT: Well, that’s a fucking relief.
TT: …
TT: Have you spoken with the others of our group in this timeline?
UU: yes! i have spoken with roxanne a few times, i believe. jane soUght me actively, jake is Unaware, and hal was previoUsly cognizant of my existence.
UU: roxanne is very sweet to talk to! we had a very fUlfilling discUssion aboUt the ethics of writers experience in fields that they write aboUt and how that is affecting the cUrrent market for yoUng adUlt and adUlt romance novels.
UU: it was also aboUt a game called sUper smash bros! 0U0
UU: oh, wow, that emoticon looks very weird!
TT: Yes, yes it does.
TT: So, what’s your opinion on Roxanne?
UU: i think that i woUld love to meet her in person one day, if that ever becomes possible.
UU: thankfUlly, the me in some other reality probably has that as a possibility for her fUtUre, and i’m really happy for that me. bUt for now, i jUst get to imagine what it woUld be like to talk to all of yoU as myself!
TT: Yeah. That’s what having online friends is usually like. Fucking exhausting, but also fucking exhilarating.
TT: I hope the two of you get to meet someday.
UU: and yoU as well!
TT: Huh?
UU: i hope to get to meet yoU as well, dirk! yoU’re a very good person, even if yoU don’t think that aboUt yoUrself most of the time.
TT: … Oh. Thanks, I guess.
UU: my pleasUre, dirk. it’s been a delight to get to socialize with people other than my brother for once, so i can do nothing to retUrn the favor except be nice to yoU all!
TT: That feels like the setup for a really fucking toxic relationship.
TT: Ah, shit. Dave’s trying to microwave metal.
TT: Gotta go.
TT: I’ll talk to you later, Musa.
UU: and yoU as well, dirk! yoU as well.
- -turingsTenets [TT] has ceased pestering uranianumbra [UU] at 8:43 P.M.!- -
- -uranianumbra [UU] has left comment on file: for yoUr information, part two is in motion! the second pawn is en passant, and i’m looking forward to seeing how this plays oUt! - -
- -autoTestifieus [AT] has responded to comment: Touché, Muse. Touché.

Chapter Text

A month or so passes. They’ve settled into a tentative new routine, her and Mom. Rose wakes up, goes to school, suffers eight hours of state-mandated mental torture, and comes home, where Mom usually has dinner ready on the counter. Rose has made it clear with her avoidance that she doesn’t really want to see Mom, but so far, Mom hasn’t relapsed, which makes it a bit easier to see her every day. Although at first, she was suffering from alcohol withdrawal symptoms, she seems to be a lot better now, pink eyes bright and sparkling when Rose opens the door. She’s perched on the couch, watching Kissing Jessica Stein, and Rose groans to see it.

“Mother,” she says, slinging her bag down at the door, “must you torture my eyes with this inane drivel?”

Mom laughs, patting the couch and pausing the movie. “Rosie, it’s just a romance!”

Rose rolls her eyes, but smiles as she sits on the arm of the couch. “So,” she says, “what’s this movie about?”

“It’s a romcom,” Mom replies, grinning.

Rose purses her lips. Something doesn’t quite add up here. “What’s the subject matter that interested you enough for you to watch it?”

“It’s about two girls falling in love.”

Rose blinks. “That’s a possibility? I had thought that it was only natural for girls to fall in love with boys.”

Mom’s smile grows tight. “Hon, that’s… not true in the slightest,” she says. “This is one of my comfort movies because it reminds me of who I am – someone who doesn’t fit.”

And when Rose thinks about these words, it’s almost as if something clicks into place. Another piece of the puzzle that is Mom Lalonde, a puzzle she’s been trying to put together for years. And possibly a piece of her.

“So, you’re…” She doesn’t quite know the word for it, but she knows what Mom is saying.

Mom laughs and nods. “Yup. Straight as a circle, gayer than a flowered maypole.”

Rose blinks. “Hm. Then why’d you have me?” She’s lost in thought right now, searching her memory for the signs she missed, and she doesn’t see Mom’s blink of confusion or careful rearrangement of her expression.

“Because I wanted you, and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Mom says. Rose smiles a bit, brain still running.

“Your life must be terrible, then,” she responds, and Mom laughs.

“Not as long as you’re here!”

She blinks and turns to Mom. “Hey, I’m going to go up to my room. GG said she’d help me with my math homework.”

Mom nods and smiles at her. “Have fun!”

Rose smiles back, then promptly absconds.

- -grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA] at 4:23 A.M.!- -
GA: Hello TA
GA: How Are You
TA: workiing. what do you want.
GA: Has Your Dancestor Arrived Yet
TA: no but my bee2 are buzziing liike crazy, 2o iit miight almo2t be tiime.
TA: ii have been wonderiing what he’2 goiing two be liike, though.
GA: How Do You Necessarily Know Its A He
TA: that’2 the pattern the re2t of them have followed 2o far, ii2n’t iit?
TA: 2ame gender, four 2weep2 older. heh. four. two by two.
GA: I Do Appreciate The Significance Of That Number Yes
GA: What Are You Working On
TA: why can’t you go bug your mate2priit or whatever 2he ii2 two you
TA: why diid you choo2e two troll me
TA: ii diid not con2ent
GA: Because She Is Preoccupied And Is Not Responding
GA: You Were Not My First Choice
GA: It Was Merely A Matter Of Chance That You Were The First One I Messaged After Trying To Contact TT
GA: Also For The Record She Is Not My Matesprit
GA: Were Just Friends
TA: 2ure. that’2 what they all 2ay.
GA: Evidently
GA: I Mean
GA: Im Saying It Arent I
TA: yup you 2ure are
GA: Then Does This Mean That I Am Technically All
GA: All Or Nothing
GA: Which Am I
TA: we’re all nothiing. every 2iingle one of u2 ii2 nothiing.
TA: hehe.
GA: That Is A Very Dark Yet Interesting Take On The Matter
GA: Why Do You Think This
TA: becau2e 2omethiing can’t come from nothiing. and there’2 no explanatiion of how the 2omethiing at the 2tart of the uniiver2e got there. 2o obviiou2ly iit’2 all actually nothiing.
GA: Are You So Sure
GA: In My Experience
GA: A Lot Can Come From Nothing
GA: How Do You Think Governments Formed
GA: People Just
GA: Decide That Order Should Be There
TA: order never come2 from anarchy. there mu2t alway2 be 2eed2 of a plant for iit two grow. – troll 2un tzu.
GA: Poignant
GA: Of Course You Didnt Come Up With It
TA: 2hut iit. not liike you’re much better.
GA: Regardless
GA: How Does One Differentiate Between Quadrants When Considering Crushes
GA: I Think This Is Flushed But There Are Some Pale Feelings
GA: And She Doesnt Like Me In Red
GA: But Im Not So Sure I Want To Be In Pale With Her
GA: Because Someone Else Whose Company I Enjoy Has A Quite Obvious Pale Crush On Her
GA: But I Definitely Like Her
TA: why the fuck are you a2kiing me why not cg?
GA: Because I Know You Have Experience In Both Quadrants
TA: ugh fiine
TA: who ii2 iit though
TA: iif ii’m goiing two help you ii at lea2t want two know thii2
GA: …
TA: ugh not the fiinii2h crumb2
TA: ii2 iit that bad
TA: iif iit’2 not tt then
TA: oh fuckiing hell ii’m not helpiing you wiith that
TA: go a2k cg
GA: No
GA: Im Not Asking CG
GA: He Will Never Know About This Unless It Comes To Fruition
TA: ohh
TA: ii 2ee how iit ii2
TA: you liike hiim iin pale
TA: got iit
GA: That
GA: That Is
GA: No
GA: That Is Not It
TA: ii don’t beliieve you.
TA: anyway have a good niight ga.
- -twinArmageddons [TA] ceased trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA] at 5:12 A.M.!- -

Chapter Text

- -turntechGodhead [TG] has begun pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 9:18 A.M.!- -
TG: yo dude
TG: guess what day it is
TG: guess
CG: NO. TELL ME.
TG: no guess
CG: NO.
TG: ugh youre no fun
TG: its my birthday
CG: WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE EMPRESS IS THAT?
TG: you know the day when i am one unit of time older
TG: wait shit thats every day
TG: um
TG: how are trolls born
CG: WE HATCH FROM EGGS FERTILIZED BY THE SLURRY FED TO THE MOTHER GRUB.
TG: oh ew did not need to know that
CG: THEN YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE FUCKING ASKED, YOU FUCKING PANROTTED NUMPTY.
TG: anyway humans measure our lives by the number of times that the earth has revolved around the sun since we were born
TG: so im eight years old today
TG: my name is tg
TG: i am a poet
TG: i wrote this poem just to show it
TG: and i just turned eight
TG: puttin down some sick fires to celebrate
CG: WHAT.
TG: i swordfight yet aint allowed to fucking cuss
TG: my favorite bird is corvus imparatus
TG: im talking with cg cause hes my second favorite guy
TG: come on cg lets see you pick it up and let it fly
CG: YOU WANT ME TO RAP.
TG: yes
TG: pleaseeee
TG: as a birthday present
TG: here ill even bust out the emojis for you
TG: 🥺
CG: …
- -turntechGodhead [TG] sent a picture!: pweaseeeeecarmen.jpg- -
CG: UGH. NEVER CALL ME CARMEN AGAIN AND MAYBE WE HAVE A DEAL.
TG: nope
- -turntechGodhead [TG] sent a picture: youknowyouloveitcarmen.jpg- -
CG: …
TG: pleaseeeeeeee
TG: ill stop calling you carburetor at least
CG: TG’S THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE
CG: WHY DO I EVEN STILL LISTEN
CG: TO HIS INANE RAMBLING
CG: FUCKING HELL, I’M IN WAY TOO DEEP
CG: MY BROTHER DOESN’T KNOW JACK OR SHIT
CG: WHEN HE LECTURES ON ETIQUETTE
CG: I’M MYSELF AND BETTER THAN HIM
CG: WHY ARE MUTANTS SO FUCKING DIM
CG: YES, I KNOW THAT I’M ONE TOO
CG: BUT HERE’S THE THING: THAT’S NOTHING NEW.
CG: I KNOW I’M STUPID, KNOW I’M DUMB
CG: BUT HE ACTS LIKE A FUCKING HIGHBLOOD.
CG: TELLS ME THAT I’M WAY TOO ABRASIVE,
CG: WHAT DOES HE KNOW OF ONLINE SPACES?
CG: ANONYMITY IS AN AMAZING THING
CG: AND THE DRONES CAN’T TRACK YOU WITH TA’S CODING.
TG: holy SHIT
TG: those were some fucking californian wildfires right there
TG: smokey the bear is so mad right now
TG: hes all like
TG: only you can stop forest fires
TG: and then youre over here
TG: running into the forest and setting the whole thing ablaze like its flash paper
TG: and we just doused those dry leaves in gasoline
TG: cg youre burning hot right now
TG: shit that was not what i meant
TG: youre not hot youre just burning
CG: DOES IT TASTE GOOD?
TG: what
CG: YOUR FOOT, ALL THE WAY UP IN YOUR NASAL PASSAGE.
TG: no
TG: its really fucking stinky
TG: might have fungi on there
TG: but we all know they aint ever able to beat me
TG: because im the most fun guy
TG: no fungi are more fun than this guy
CG: TG, IF YOU HAVE FOOT FUNGI, YOU’RE GOING TO DIE IN A HALF PERIGEE.
TG: im not on alternia
TG: we have foot fungi that dont kill you instantly here on earth
CG: I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.
TG: fine
TG: you wanna fucking see the fungi that dont kill you
TG: wikipedia.org/xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
TG: here
TG: see it and fucking weep cg
TG: and when youre sobbing and begging for me to comfort you
TG: well
TG: ill have so many fun gis with me that there wont be mushroom left for you now will there carmen
TG: youll be all asking me to spore some room and ill be like
TG: nope i gotta protist my fungi sorry bud
CG: TG. I AM GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE.
TG: ( B)
TG: (B)
TG: ( B)
CG: PUT THOSE FUCKING EYEBROWS DOWN, YOU LITTLE-
TG: hon i aint little anything
CG: YOU’RE LITERALLY FOUR WHERE I COME FROM. YOU’RE MINISCULE.
TG: hey just because youre one sweep older than me doesnt mean you get to judge me carmen
TG: okay but
TG: honesty time
TG: i am drawing the line here
TG: —------------
TG: irony leave the room
TG: that means you hal
TG: and you bro
TG: and you old bro
TG: and me
- -turntechGodhead [TG] is an idle chum!- -
CG: TG. GET TO THE POINT.
- -turntechGodhead [TG] is online!- -
TG: whats your actual name
TG: i know its not carmen
TG: but if you dont want me calling you carmen
TG: were gonna have to exchange names mx sandiego
CG: FINE. BUT YOU FIRST.
TG: okay
TG: can i rap this though
TG: otherwise im going to feel really awkward about this
TG: and you dont want awkward tg because then ill be rapping anyway
CG: FINE.
CG: RAP IT IF YOU WANT, YOU’RE STILL GOING FIRST.
TG: great
TG: my names dave strider and its nice to meetcha
TG: im your friendly neighborhood rap teacher
TG: eight years old as of today
TG: thanks for letting me rap this thing
TG: i like music and mixing beats
TG: swordfighting with my bro in the houston heat
TG: my middle names elizabeth but i digress
TG: still the hottest dude in the wild west
TG: youre super funny and i hope you enjoyed
TG: this rap brought to you by daves smooth voice
CG: WOW, OKAY.
CG: UH. I’M KARKAT VANTAS.
CG: YOUR NAME IS.
CG: WHY ARE THE LETTERS PATTERNED LIKE THAT?
CG: THAT’S. HUH.
CG: YOUR NAME IS REALLY FUCKING PRETTY.
CG: I’M JUST WONDERING WHY IT DOESN’T FOLLOW THE NORMAL SIX-SIX PATTERN.
TG: wait
TG: oh my gosh thats a better name than i ever could have imagined
TG: karkat
TG: karkat youre a little beepmeow
CG: I’M SORRY, A FUCKING WHAT.
TG: a beepmeow
TG: you know the sound a car makes
TG: beep
TG: and the sound a cat makes
TG: meow
CG: I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THOSE ARE.
- -turntechGodhead [TG] has attached two files: beep.mp4 , meow.mp4 - -
TG: see it and weep
TG: fucking WEEP beepmeow
CG: THAT’S A FUCKING SCUTTLEBUGGY AND A MEOWBEAST.
CG: I DON’T SEE HOW YOU ASSOCIATE EITHER OF THOSE WITH MY FUCKING NAME, STRIDIPSHIT.
TG: on earth
TG: theyre called a car and a cat
TG: carcat
TG: karkat
TG: beepmeow
CG: …
CG: FUCKING ALIENS.
CG: OH! IT’S YOUR WRIGGLING DAY, RIGHT?
TG: mmmm never gonna get used to that word but yes
CG: I HAVE A PRESENT FOR YOU.
TG: Θώθ
- -carcinoGeneticist [CG] sent a picture: FUCKYOUFIGHTME.jpg - -
TG: oh
TG: hey bro have a good day alright
- -turntechGodhead [TG] has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 10:43 A.M.!- -
CG: UH. WHAT?
- -carcinoGeneticist [CG] has ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG] at 10:45 A.M.!- -

Chapter Text

Roxy is pulling the cake out of the oven when Rose strides into the kitchen, leaving the heavy oak doors swinging shut behind her with a bang. “Why do we even still have those,” Roxy hears her mutter, and she laughs under her breath as Rose pulls herself up to sit on the counter. “Good Old-Fashioned Loverboy” is playing on the speaker, and Roxy’s muttering the lyrics to it under her breath as she sets the cake on the counter to cool for a bit. She stands, straightens her back, and brushes her hands off on her apron, head woozy from the heat. She then spins on her heel and heads to the fridge, pulling it open and rummaging around for the heavy cream.

Rose, who’s been otherwise quiet this whole time, speaks up. “Mom,” she says, “can Dave come over?”

Roxy blinks, then blinks again.

Rose knew Dave this early?

Why the hell was she telling her name to strangers on the Internet?

She massages her temples, sensing an impending Parental Headache™ and trying to calm herself down. On the speaker, Bohemian Rhapsody has started playing, and as Freddie Mercury ponders philosophical questions, Roxy fixes Rose with a questioning look. “Rosie,” she says, in her best admonishing voice, “why in the world would you give a complete stranger your name?”

“Because he gave me his first!” Rose says, defensively. “Just because you’re paranoid as hell doesn’t mean I’m gonna get Death Note’d by some random kid from the internet. And, hey, isn’t it the exact same as sending a resume over email? Only, I’m not giving out my address or phone number or how many kids I plan to have when I grow up, if at all?”

“Dude, you’re fuckin’ trippin’,” Roxy scoffs, her accent from her childhood slipping out for a moment. She pours in the heavy cream, caps the carton, then heads for the baking cabinet for the confectioner’s sugar, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet beside it as she goes. She rips open the bag with slightly more force than was strictly necessary, and ends up with sugar powdering her face.

When she huffs, pouring the sugar into the bowl, Rose is stifling a laugh behind her hand, and Roxy scrapes the palm of her hand over her forehead and claps her hands in Rose’s direction, who lets out an unholy shriek and throws herself forward off of the counter to escape the impending cloud of powdery goodness. She lands sprawled on the floor, headband askew, and Roxy takes the chance to tickle her right in her soft spot – right at gallbladder level.

Rose fights for a good six minutes before she taps out, and Roxy recognizes her need to breathe and lets go. What she doesn’t expect is for Rose to tackle her and get her back, and by the time she’s done screaming for Rose to let her up and laughing her ass off, the cake is ready to be turned out and frosted, and Roxy has yet to make the frosting.

Rose gives her a respectful sort of half-bow, and asks, “So, can he come over?”

Roxy gives her a lopsided grin and nods. “Sure thing, hon. Just don’t go listin’ our address on that MySpace you think I don’t know about. That ai– isn’t as chill as you might think.”

Rose turns red. “Whatever,” she says, and then she purses her lips, and turns on her heel to flee the room.

Roxy calls after her, “And say hello to your little galpal for me!”

Roxy is cackling as she hears a long, drawn-out groan from down the hallway.

- -tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 1:20 P.M.!- -
TG: o hey rosie i frgot 2 mention earlier
TT: Yes, Mother? To what do I owe this pleasure?
TG: so yk how ive been acting diffrent lately
TG: like i got f*ckin freaky fridayd
TT: Yes, I do. What about it?
TG: so ik i wasnt that present b4 so what were the rules u had again
TT: Don’t go out in the woods at night, don’t go near your lab. That was it.
TG: oki so now im mor emyself
TG: were settin sum more
TG: 1st rule is no friends/ “friends” over w/o tellin me
TT: Mother, why must you do this to me?
TT: I’m not three.
TG: uh yeah and thats why im setting these rules
TG: rosie ik ur growin up n i recognize that growin up comes w sum SHIT that ur not gonna wanna deal w
TG: and that i dont wanna deal w
TG: unless its ur emotions or ur parrtners
TG: i wanna meet every partner u have rosie posie
TG: and i want u to know that u can come to me with any emotions you have
TG: rosie ur so special ilysm so i want u to know that im ur mom and im always ALWAYS
TG: A
TG: L
TG: W
TG: A
TG: Y
TG: S
TG: S
TG: wait shit
TG: anyway im always gon be there for u and if anyone hurts you ever i will slit their fucking throat and devise thirty ways to ruin their lives and follow through with twenty nine of them
TG: thats how much i luv u <3
TT: Interesting. Any other rules?
TG: go to school every day
TG: also were havin family dinner every sunday oki?
TG: oki lmao
TT: …
TT: Okay, then. Anything else, Mother?
TG: nope thats it!
TG: luv u :)
TT: …
TT: You as well, Mother.
- -tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 1:53 P.M.!- -

Chapter Text

It’s a clear, balmy December afternoon when Dave steps off the transportalizer, eyes bright and posture rigid as he hoists his bright red duffle bag onto his shoulder. He’s only staying for a night, but Bro thought it would be better safe than sorry, so he’s got two changes of clothes and three changes of underwear, plus his toiletries and a set of pajamas. Rose’s Mom is standing in front of the front door of the house, and Dave almost trips over his feet in his attempt to look dignified in front of his internet sister’s Mom. 

When Bro steps off the transportalizer behind him, Rose’s mom squeals and runs forward to hug Bro, arms outstretched and scarf flying. Bro freezes, and Dave sees the uncertainty in his posture as he pats Rose’s mom on the back, receiving the hug. 

He stifles a laugh in the back of his hand, and turns to Rose, who has a luminescent grin on her face as she stands on the porch, hands folded in front of her, the blue light from the transportalizer making her eyes glow turquoise. Dave suppresses a shiver, and walks up to her, taking slow deliberate steps so as to make sure he doesn’t fall into any magic traps she may have set. 

Of course, he trips on a rock and almost faceplants, but Bro’s there in a half-second, holding him up and keeping him from falling. Dave grins and steadies himself, dusting his shoulders off, and Bro nods at him. Dave is almost bursting with pride, but he manages to keep it in and wave at Rose, whose shoulders are shaking with laughter. 

“Hello, dear brother,” she says, and Dave walks up to join her on the porch. A second later, the transportalizer glows blue again, and Bro’s friend, Jade’s… uncle? comes through, a bounce in his step as he leans up to kiss Bro on the cheek. Rose’s mom has a shit-eating grin on her face, and Dave looks away, turning towards the house. 

His shoulders slump. “Can we just go inside?” he asks, voice much whinier than he intended. Rose, thankfully, seems to take pity on him, and opens the door, holding it as he goes through and then following, the door shutting with a resounding rattle. 

The two walk to Rose’s room, silent but for the sounds of their steps on the wood panels of the floor. Dave takes note of all the oddities in the house – the giant wizard statue, the gold-plated vacuum cleaner, the carved wooden double doors leading out of the foyer – and compares them to the Rose he knows. She seems to be used to these, so maybe it’s not Rose, but her mom? Probably, since she was the one who bought and designed the house.

Rose’s door is painted a soft emerald, with a sign in perfect calligraphy reading, “stay out”. Dave marvels at her handwriting, and she smirks as she opens the door to her room. Two small sleeping pallets are laid out on the floor beside the bed, and the room is large enough that they don’t take up too much space. 

Dave sets his bag down at the head of one of those pallets, and takes in the room. 

There are bookshelves lining the walls, a skeleton of a cat perched on top of one, right beside Plato’s complete works. A violin sits in its case on one of the highest shelves, and a small footstool stands forlornly on the ground below the bookshelf. There are two doors in the corner beside the bookshelf, and a desk on the wall adjacent, a spinning office chair pushed up underneath it. 

The floor is clean and empty sans the sleeping pallets, a circular forest green shag rug between the bed and the desk and an egg chair pushed into the corner, a book and a blanket discarded among the pillows inside of it. The bed is neatly made, although a bit lumpy, and Dave wonders if Rose’s mom made it, or if she did it herself. 

There’s a tap on his shoulder, and Dave suppresses the urge to pull his sword, jumping out of his crouching position and almost headbutting Rose in the chin. She steps back, one eyebrow raised, but says nothing about it. 

“So, what are we gonna do while the adults are adulting?” he asks, trying to lighten the mood. His left hand finds a loose string in his sweatshirt pocket and starts fidgeting with it, winding it around his finger and then back again. 

Rose smiles, and it’s not a thin smile that he’d come to expect from her based on their regular movie nights. It’s an actual, genuine smile that reaches her eyes, and Dave’s shoulders relax as he returns the smile. “Well, I had a few ideas,” she says, “so do you prefer Truth or Dare, Monopoly, or watching a movie? If we watch a movie, we will have to deal with our guardians, so consider yourself warned.”

Dave nods, considering. “Truth or dare,” he says after a moment. “Monopoly sounds like a horrible fucking idea, so maybe we can save that for a time when we’re together with Jade and John as well.”

He sits down, leaning against the bedframe, a throw pillow cushioning his butt.

Rose laughs. “Alright. I’ll go first, then. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Dave responds. He’s not going to be the one to start this game with a bang, no matter how tempted he is. 

When Rose smirks, Dave starts to get scared, and wonder if he made the wrong decision. “Is…” She taps her finger on her knee. “Do you have any romantic interest in anyone?”

Dave does a double-take, hitting the solid wood of the bedframe with the crown of his head. “Motherfuck– Rose! ” He pulls the pillow out from under his butt and swings it at her, and she cackles. 

“So there is someone!” she exclaims, eyes alight with mirth. Dave groans and puts his head in his hands, dropping the pillow beside him. 

He stays silent for at least two minutes before nodding a tiny bit. Rose ruffles his hair, and he squawks in indignation. “I will get this information out of you,” she promises him, grinning devilishly.

Downstairs, Bro looks up at the ceiling at the sound of feet pounding on the floor. Jake and Roxy are sitting at the table, chatting over Nutella, apple slices, and coffee, and Dirk shakes his head, a small smile on his face, and flips the crepe. 

It’s good to be back.

Chapter Text

“So, who is it?” Rose asks Dave, leaning over the edge of the bed. Her internet brother has his face buried in a pillow, but his skin is so pale that she can see how the tips of his ears have turned blazing red. “Is it…” Rose makes a show of tapping her chin with her finger. “Jade?”

Dave shakes his head no, and Rose tries again. “Is it John?”

Dave looks at her, face set in a neutral expression. “Hon, I don’t wanna ruin your little fantasies, but me and John are not going to make out.” Rose giggles, leaning forward further.

She tries one last time. “Then… is it CG?”

Dave hits her with a pillow, and she knows she’s got her answer. “It is CG!” she exclaims, grabbing her own memory foam pillow and swinging it at Dave’s face. Dave falls back into his duffel bag, then rolls to the side, back onto his feet.

“It is not CG,” he says, glaring at her, and she purses her lips into a thin smile, raising her eyebrows.

“The color of your face right now says differently,” Rose teases. “But, I digress. It’s now your turn to ask me.”

She already knows what she’s going to choose, but she can wait for Dave to get over his shock.

Dave takes a deep breath, then throws another pillow at her. She tosses it back, and he asks her, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she responds, too fast, and he grins.

“Text the person you enjoy talking to most in the FRAF groupchat,” he says, “and send me the transcript.” Rose groans, and stands up, going to her egg chair to grab her laptop. Dave unzips his duffel bag and pulls out his own, presumably to pass time until she’s done.

“By the way, what’s the wi-fi password?” he asks, and she points to her desk, where she’s got it written down on a post-it note.

She opens her laptop and logs onto Pesterchum, and starts messaging GA.

- -tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering grimAuxiliatrix [GA] at 4:13 P.M.!- -
TT: Hello, GA.
GA: Oh Hello TT
GA: To What Do I Owe This Pleasure
TT: TG dared me to message you.
TT: We’re playing a game of Truth or Dare as we are currently in the same vicinity and cannot interact with each other without making it into a competition.
TT: It’s rather impressive, how terribly we get along and yet how connected we are through the mutual inanity of our family.
TT: Also, it is my birthday. The day that I came into this world.
GA: Oh Happy Birth Day TT
GA: Im Glad To Hear That
GA: I Should Be So Inclined To Send You A Present If You Have A Transportalizer And Coordinates
TT: Surely you jest. Why would I not?
TT: Shall I look forward to being graced with your presence, auxiliatrix?
GA: I Dont Believe My Sister Would Allow That
GA: But I Would Like To Meet You Sometime
GA: Empress Willing
TT: That does sound rather nice.
TT: Should your speech be so lovely as your self, I would be unsurprised.
TT: You type with a certain… presence that I admire.
GA: Well You Sure Know How To Flatter A Girl
GA: Im Positively Emerald Right Now
TT: Does that mean you’re sick of me?
GA: No
GA: Humans Have Red Blood Correct
TT: Yes.
GA: Well I Dont Mean It Metaphorically When I Say Im A Jade Blood
TT: Interesting. Can I see what your blood color looks like?
GA: …
TT: Oh, I don’t mean for you to hurt yourself! I just mean, if there’s any other way you can show me…
GA: Hm
GA: …
GA: Perhaps
GA: Here
- -grimAuxiliatrix [GA] sent a picture: Cloth.jpg- -
TT: Oh, wow. That’s a gorgeous color. I’m sure it suits you beautifully.
GA: Thank You
GA: How Is TG
TT: He’s doing well. I suspect he may harbor some feelings for one of our small group, but I’m unsure as of yet. He did hit me with a cushion when I brought CG up, though, so that was enlightening.
GA: He Hit You
GA: Why Would You Leave Him Alive
TT: Because he’s my brother, and I was teasing him…?
TT: Why wouldn’t I leave him alive?
GA: …
GA: Nevermind
GA: Have Fun With Him
- -grimAuxiliatrix [GA] has ceased trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] at 4:28 P.M.!- -

Rose looks up, then takes a quick screenshot and emails it to Dave, then looks up at him from her seat.

“Dave,” she says, and he quickly looks up, a bit pink in the cheeks, and blinks at her, red eyes glowing in the reflection of light from the window.

“Yeah?” he responds, cocking his head.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

Rose smiles, preparing to savor his reaction to this. “I dare you to ask someone out, and you have to update me on the status of that. No chickening out!”

Dave turns beet red, glowering at her. “Fine,” he huffs. “I’ll just go ask Jade. She’ll understand.”

Rose nods, feeling fucking exhausted of his denial. “Whatever you say, dear internet brother.”

Dave rolls his eyes, jiggling his knee impatiently in front of him. “Whatever, McDonald’s worker,” he retorts, frowning. “Anyway, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Rose replies, and Dave’s knee stops bouncing as he looks up at her.

“What the hell is up with your mom?” he asks.

Rose shrugs. “I don’t know,” she admits, hugging a pillow closer to her. “I don’t know, and frankly, it scares me. There’s not a lot I don’t know in this world, but what’s up with her is one of those things. I wish I did, Dave, but I’m terrified that if I find out, it’s going to stop. And it’s been so nice… I just…” She sighs and squeezes the pillow tighter. “I don’t want it to end.”

Dave nods, and Rose looks up at him, eyes narrowing. “If you’re going to be patronizing…” she threatens, trailing off. Dave raises an eyebrow, and she laughs. “Truth or dare, dear brother?”

“Dare,” he says, sitting up straight.

Rose pauses, thinking of something. Message John that you love him?... No, too cliche. What do you like to do… Art, music… Oh! She snaps her fingers and meets his eyes. “Send CG the first song you ever made.”

Dave blanches, and Rose grins. Gotcha.

Chapter Text

Dave splutters, waving his hands about in an attempt to calm his nerves over the matter. “Rose, what do you mean by ‘first song’? Like, my first mix, or my first actual song with lyrics that I recorded?”

“The latter,” she says, and Dave wants to slap the smug expression off of her face.

But… On the other hand, Striders are cool. They don’t chicken out of shit that people dare them to do. So Dave sighs, running a hand through his hair and opening his laptop back up with his other one. “Fine, you little witch,” he grumbles as he logs in. Rose smiles.

“Awh, I appreciate the compliment,” she responds, voice cool and smooth. Dave grits his teeth. That’s his domain, dammit!

Regardless, he has a dare to take on. So he opens his laptop and scrolls down to find the earliest song, titled “Breath of October”. That was… He cringes at the name. But he might as well listen to it before he lets ‘Kat listen. He plugs in his earbuds, puts them in, and presses play. Soft guitar chords fill his ear, with a backing bassline from his brother’s old electric kit starting up at the chorus; Rose’s violin, Jade’s bass guitar and flute, and John’s piano sampled in small bits and pieces as well, and Dave hears his voice come through, soft at first, but growing in confidence.

Breath of October, all these changes that come with
Seeing the sun and the clouds slowly peeking out through the din
Life turned out to be like a lever, going up and then down
So now please, breath of October, blow your song through this house

I never thought that you’d be the one to leave me first
I thought I’d be carried far away laid in a hearse
You hurt me, you used to bring me way down to my knees
So why does this apartment feel washed out by the heat?
You’re not here anymore and it is fucking me up
The glass ain’t half empty or full, you fucking smashed the whole cup
I don’t know where I’m supposed to go now without you by my side
You said you’d make me better but by God, Bro, you lied

I don’t know how to feel about this hole in my chest
I don’t know how to mourn someone who’s not even dead
Is this grief? Is this anger? I don’t want to deny
The way you blazed in like a star, set my life alight

And now
You’ve left me for someone
Some other place unknown
Tearing apart this home
(I can’t deny, I can’t deny, I can’t deny the way I broke)

And now
You’ve left me for sometime
Some timeline now where I
Will never see the shine
Of metal on a hot Houston night
(Were you right?)

Breath of October, all these changes that come with
Seeing the sun and the clouds slowly peeking out through the din
Life turned out to be like a lever, going up and then down
So now please, breath of October, blow your song through this house

This life that I live, I shouldn’t have to contemplate
I’m only seven years old, two months from turning eight
And I can’t figure out what happened one year far in the past
When I woke up to find you missing, body used like a cast
Another’s soul inside your eyes, Bro; I’ll admit I was scared
But with Dirk I feel more happy, I feel loved, I feel cared for
Never once did you give me the chance to just be a kid
And now that you’re gone, can I make this one a good life to live?

Can you see me from where you are now? Are you proud, Bro,
Of the person I’m being for the others who showed
Me friendship, this human disease we like to call love?
Or are you pissed at me, in the timeline this Bro’s from?

And now,
You’ve left me with no choice
This aching in my voice
I’ll move on towards the joy
(Is there still joy, is there still joy, is there still joy when I’m alone)

And now,
I can’t see where you’ve gone
But I am moving on
I hope you’re having fun
Wherever you end up
(I hope you’re doing alright)

Breath of October, all these changes that come with
Seeing the sun and the clouds slowly peeking out through the din
Life turned out to be like a lever, going up and then down
So now please, breath of October, blow your song through this house

And in the end I don’t think that I’ll ever forget
All these things you’ve taught me; you were always the best.
Even though you’re gone now, Bro, don’t think I’d ever condemn
The lessons you taught me; please understand it’s not you, it’s them.

My onworld friends are online besties that I love to see.
John’s dorky smile and blue eyes cut through the misery,
Jade’s lightness and her smarts make her well-versed in many things,
And Rose’s connections reach further than the Furthest Rings.
CG is so funny, hilarious, and so uncool
He makes me feel like I can be anything I want to
GC is so insane and so crazy, I love the vibes
That she gives off, they’re rad even in the horrific times
I don’t know the others much but from what I’ve seen they’re nice
And Rose’s crush, GA, is more cold and smoother than ice
The water ones seem interesting, the brown ones right insane
But I didn’t just make this song so that I could complain

In the end, the Breath of October flows through these halls
Bringing changes, feelings that just make me feel so small.
I can’t understand what happened, but I’m going to keep
My chin up, if I didn’t you’d be right pissed off at me.

And now,
You raised me to be tough
But will that be enough
This wound, I’m still so rough
(Around the edges, are you pleased, you left me helpless)

The breath,
Of October in my
Veins as I lie awake
Thinking about his face
(How it shone in the light)

Breath of October, all these changes that come with
Seeing the sun and the clouds slowly peeking out through the din
Life turned out to be like a lever, going up and then down
So now please, breath of October, blow your song through this house

All these changes, yeah, they just leave me so confused
But I think that I’ll try to be mature for you
I miss you, Bro, but I’m fine; please don’t come back soon.

Dave sighs, pinching his nose. God, do there have to be so many emotions in here? He never meant anyone to hear this, but if he’s going to bare his soul to anyone, he supposes Karkat is as fine a candidate as any.

He opens up Pesterchum to find his conversation with Karkat waiting to be resumed.

- -turntechGodhead [TG] is online!
TG: yo im sorry about leaving you there
TG: rose is a hag who wont get out of my hair
TG: and honestly i dont blame her no gal can compare
TG: my beauty is unparalleled dont need no conair
CG: DAVE, I DIDN’T START TALKING TO YOU TO BE RAPPED AT.
TG: well too bad because i got dared to send you my first song i ever recorded and finished
TG: so here
- -turntechGodhead [TG] has attached two files: breathofoctober.mp4 , breathofoctober.txt
TG: im going to abscond now this shit is embarrasing as fuck
CG: …
CG: HOLY SHIT. DAVE, YOU MADE THIS?
TG: wait you like it
CG: UH, YEAH! IT’S FUCKING AMAZING, FOR A THREE SWEEP OLD. HOLY SHIT, DAVE. THAT’S SO COOL.
CG: THE LYRICS ARE WAY FUCKING DEEPER THAN ANY OF THE SHIT YOU USUALLY SPEW ON A NIGHTLY BASIS, BUT THE BEAT IS GOOD, AND THE INSTRUMENTS MIX REALLY FUCKING WELL.
CG: IT’S NOT ENTIRELY GARBAGE, AND COMING FROM ME, THAT’S A HIGH FUCKING COMPLIMENT.
TG: awh karkles im blushing
TG: thank you
TG: anyway you have any ideas for how i should get back at rose for this
TG: ooh maybe i should encourage her to drink a shot of her moms liquor
TG: or steal a pint of ice cream for the sleepover
TG: for truth ill probably ask her what her latest writing project is about
TG: oh wait
TG: i know what ill do for roses dare
TG: she has to send the document of her latest wizard fiction in the fraf groupchat
CG: MY BRAIN DID NOT FUCKING PROCESS THAT ACRONYM FOR A HOT SECOND, JEGUS H GRIST IN A BUCKET.
TG: wait why a bucket
- -carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle chum!

Dave laughs. That went far better than he expected it to, and Rose is reading a book now. It’s been around eight minutes, and she startles when Dave speaks again, keeping the game going.

They continue talking until around eight, when Rose’s mom calls them down for cake and presents. To Dave’s great relief, Jade’s uncle is gone, but Bro has enough of a vibe about him that Dave can tell that it wasn’t without getting some stuff done first.

They all sing the traditional birthday song, Rose’s cheeks glowing red in the light of the candles, and Dave and Dirk do a “birthday rap” based off of the Fresh Prince theme song, which Rose’s mom cackles at and Rose cringes at. Rose blows out her candles, and Dave can see the reflection of the stars in her eyes as she stares down at the cake, and can tell that there’s something she wants to ask.

When she doesn’t say anything, Dave doesn’t push the issue, and instead pulls his present for Rose out of his sylladex. It’s labeled, “awsum shit”, and it’s in the fifth slot of his sylladex.

Rose opens it to find a Pokemon card binder, and her face falls for a moment before she opens the binder and finds the real present, which is a bunch of eldritch horror-themed stationary. Dave grins and pats her on the shoulder, and she elbows him in the gut and thanks him for it as he doubles over. It feels like they could be a real family if things were different, and as they eat the cake, chatting and laughing about their lives, Dave stares at the blown out candles and makes his own wish on a flame meant for someone else.

He’ll pay for it later, but for now, the harmony is worth it.

Chapter Text

Before the new year comes, Rose has one last thing to do. 

The snow falls thick on the ground, and Rose stands knee deep in it, flakes in her hair, fluffy boots on her feet, a thick parka wrapping her up. Her lips are painted a deep jade, almost black, and her lashes are thick with the white flakes falling from the sky, collecting more even as she blinks what’s already there away. 

As she considers her outfit for the umpteenth time this morning, the transportalizer flashes blue and Mom opens the door, stepping onto the porch a few paces behind Rose. 

GA – Kanaya steps off of the transportalizer, wearing nothing but a scarf and a light jacket. Her skin is a dark gray, and she’s just as stunning as Rose always imagined her. The transportalizer flashes again, and Kanaya’s older sister, Porrim, appears. They’re both immaculate, Kanaya in a knee-length black dress with the Virgo symbol on the breast, belted at the waist with t-shirt length sleeves, a thick black scarf, knee-high jade socks, and black ballet flats, and her cheeks are flushed jade. A jade cardigan hangs from her shoulders, and Rose takes in her outfit with a critical eye, trying to find every small detail before Kanaya has to leave again.

Porrim, on the other hand, is wearing a black halter cocktail dress, and seems perfectly comfortable in the weather despite her scant coverings. She’s got tattoos curling up her shoulders and down her legs, and wears no shoes, and Rose tries her hardest to ignore the sharp intake of breath from her mom behind her. Porrim thankfully seems entirely uninterested, and the sight of Kanaya smiling at her puts it out of her mind. 

“Rose!” she says, grinning and showing sharp teeth behind her black lips. Her canines curve down like fangs, and Rose is enamoured with her smile. 

“Kanaya,” she returns, grinning. She can feel the awkward split of her face with her dimples, praying she doesn’t look bad. Roxy pats her on the shoulder, and walks down to talk with Porrim, as Rose, faced with the prettiest girl she knows, is left alone to fight her way through this chess game of a conversation. 

Rose turns on her heel, cheeks flaring red, and, as she walks to the porch and ushers Kanaya inside, thanks whatever deity sent the cold for the fact that it hides her blush.

She takes a deep breath and follows Kanaya inside.

Kanaya stands in the foyer, shoes already off by the door and socks folded neatly on top of them, and she spins, taking in the grandiose sights that Rose hates so much. Above them, vines crawl up the outside of the glass dome, letting sunlight filter through in between the leaves, casting dappled shadows on Kanaya’s arms as she looks around. Her horns glint with the waxy light from a clouded-over sun, and Rose feels her lips tugging into a smile. Kanaya looks back at her, eyes crinkling up at the corners. 

“Your hive is absolutely gorgeous, Rose,” she says, and Rose, despite her best efforts, feels her ears turning red, and quickly shakes out her hair to hide it. 

“Thanks, I hate it,” she says, regretting it as soon as the words leave her mouth. “I mean – It’s not my first choice, but I don’t hate it, per se, it’s just…”

Kanaya nods, and Rose feels like she’s on a rollercoaster, and it’s all just going downhill. This is not a good feeling, but it’s not a bad one either, and she wants it to stop, but at the same time, she… doesn’t? Hm. She’ll examine this later.

“Yeah, I think I get it,” Kanaya says. Rose squinches her eyebrows. “Like, you feel as if it’s not entirely yours because it’s not what you would have chosen? But you also are used to it, because it’s yours, because you live here?”

Rose shrugs, brushing her hair back over her ear. “Yeah, I guess,” she says. “That’s… pretty accurate, actually.” She laughs, feeling incredibly self-conscious. That’s not a normal feeling, and she stashes it away for later, like she does with most of her odd emotions. “Shall we exchange gifts, then?”

Kanaya grins at her, hair curling around her pointed ears, gold earrings shining from beneath it. “I suppose we shall,” she responds. “Do you have a place we can sit?”

Rose nods, and leads the way to the living room. She feels like Orpheus, fighting the urge to look back and catch a glimpse of how the shadows dance on Kanaya’s dark gray skin.

The living room is small and cozy, with a loveseat, a couch, and a reclining chair for seating; a fireplace with the Lalonde’s stockings hanging above it; a pine tree with a tulle tree skirt; and a TV above the fireplace. Rose motions for Kanaya to sit, then goes to the tree and grabs her present for Kanaya from beneath it. She makes her way back to the loveseat, where Kanaya is perched on the edge of a cushion, one leg crossed over the other.

Rose sits, crossing her ankles, and hands Kanaya her gift. “Here,” she says, nodding as Kanaya takes it, looking rather bewildered. Kanaya brings a hand to it, and Rose takes note of how sharp and well-painted her nails are as she slices the paper like… well, paper. The tessellated-pattern wrapping paper falls away to reveal a cardboard box, in which several things rattle as Kanaya opens it. 

Kanaya gasps at the sight of what’s in the box, and Rose feels a glow of satisfied warmth in her cheeks as she grins. She gave Kanaya a weaving loom, several yards of fine fabrics, a latest-model appearifier gun, and a jar of origami stars that she painstakingly folded herself, writing little notes inside each of them. Maybe Kanaya will realize they’re there. Maybe she won’t. But the effort and the messages are out in the universe, and that’s what counts. 

Kanaya’s cheekbones are high jade when she looks up at Rose again, the light of the fire glinting off her stormy gray eyes. “I love it, Rose,” she breathes, eyes wide and excited. Her ears are perking up like a dog’s, and Rose fights the sudden urge to pat her head. Instead, Rose smiles, hoping to come off as self-assured and confident. 

“I’m glad,” she replies, keeping her voice level. “Now, what did you have for me?”

Kanaya flinches, and Rose would have missed it if she wasn’t focused entirely on Kanaya. However, she doesn’t, because she very much is. “I’m afraid nothing could follow this wonderful of a gift, Rose,” Kanaya says. What Rose hears is, ‘I’m scared it won’t measure up, and I’ll look dumb.’

“Kanaya, the fact that it’s you giving the gift enhances it to a level that I have no chance of competing with,” Rose returns, rolling her shoulders back and grinning. What she really means is, ‘If it’s from you, it’s special no matter what it is.’ She doesn’t say it, of course, but Kanaya’s ears swivel forward and the troll looks down at her lap, where she’s retrieved a small parcel from her sylladex.

After a moment, she hands the parcel to Rose, who takes it with a delicate grasp, scared to damage it. It’s a pouch made of a light, thin material that feels smooth under Rose’s fingers, and she unties the drawstring and pulls out a piece of fabric that shimmers with iridescent light. She reorients it to find that it’s a cloak, and pulls it around herself to find that it’s the warmest outer layer she’s ever worn. Rose gasps. 

“Gorgeous and practical,” she says. “Just what I’d expect from someone as talented as you.” 

Kanaya nods, shoulders pulled up and smile pushing up her eyes. There’s yet another odd feeling in Rose’s stomach, similar to the previous one, and she yet again files it away for later examination. But for now, they’re out of time, because it’s about to be daytime on Alternia, and though Kanaya has said she’s able to walk in the sunlight, the jade has also said that she typically does her best not to, as it attracts the drones’ attention. 

Rose stands and collects the scraps of wrapping paper, and Kanaya gets up as well, landing with a soft thud on the carpet. Rose stows the trash in her sylladex and clasps the cloak’s buttons, then motions her head towards the door for Kanaya to follow her, and starts walking back to the foyer. 

As Kanaya puts on her shoes, Porrim hurries into the foyer, her cheeks dusted jade and her heels clicking on the floor. She touches a finger on Kanaya’s head. “You ready?” She does add a word in a language Rose can’t understand, which Rose understands to be an untranslatable word in Alternian. It sounds a bit like a cross between German and Zulu, a language that uses clicks that Rose found on a Wikipedia binge.

Kanaya glances at Rose, then back to Porrim, and nods. “Yeah.” There’s that word again, with its odd consonants. Rose wants to take it and physically dissect it. 

Kanaya stands, smiles at Rose. “I hope to see you soon,” she says, and Rose nods. 

“You as well,” she replies. 

Porrim opens the door, and the two of them are gone.

Chapter Text

It’s the Saturday after New Year’s Day when Rose stands in her room, practicing her violin on call with her friends.

EB: wow, rose, that was really good!
EB: you’re like, professional at this rate :B
TT: Why, thank you.
GG: bravo bravo! :D
TG: encore please madam
TG: okay but yall wanna hear something ive been working on remixing
EB: always.
EB: and i’ve been putting together some piano pieces if you guys want to hear!
GG: ive got some to share with my bass but id like to hear you guys stuff first hehe :D

Rose sets her violin down and puts the bow on its hooks, taking care not to touch the hairs. She pushes her other headphone over her ear and listens as Dave plays his mix.

He looks in his element in front of the turntables, messing around with the records and fingers flying over the dials. Rose doesn’t have the faintest idea of how it works, but it sounds pretty good.

There’s a knock on Rose’s door, and John looks up from whatever he’s doing. Jade sighs.

GG: awh do you have to go now rose? :0
TT: Yes, I’m afraid so.
EB: bye, rose
GG: dont let the horrorterrors bite hehe
TT: Farewell, I suppose.

Rose leaves the call, a small smile on her face as she puts the headphones down on her desk, and opens the door. Her mom is standing outside, a small black cat in her arms. The cat has two white patches over its eyes, and Rose reaches out a hand to pat it on the head. It hisses and nips at her hand, and Mom tsks at it. It looks at Rose, and its green eyes seem to bore into her soul.

Rose looks up at Mom, tilting her head and frowning. “Where’d you get it?” she asks, and Mom laughs.

“I found her in my lab,” she says. “I have no clue how she got there, but she seems nice enough to me, at least.”

Rose frowns at the cat, poking her on the nose. She mewls, and Rose sees her tiny little canines, poking out of her gums, and her rough little tongue as she whines. Rose looks back up at her mom. “Her name is Grimalkit,” Rose states, and the cat looks up at Mom as well, seeming to nod.

Mom laughs, petting Grimalkit between the ears. “Grim for short, then,” she says, grinning. “And I’ll make her a collar real quick.”

Rose nods and holds her hands out for Grimalkit. Mom puts the kitten in her arms, and Grim curls into her chest, purring. “Hi, little Grim,” she whispers, smiling. The cat’s fur is soft, and Rose can see it as it rubs off on her dress, but she doesn’t mind. It’s been so long since Jaspers died – this is going to be a very fun adventure. She looks a bit more at the white patches above the cat’s eyes, and decides on a full name. “Grimalkit Pythia Lalonde, welcome to the family,” she tells the cat.

The cat looks up at her and reaches out a paw to her face, then scratches her cheek. Rose gasps, dropping the cat, who jumps on the bed and makes herself at home.

When she touches a finger to her cheek, it comes away bloody, and she snorts. “Grim, it looks like you’re going to fit in just fine,” she tells the cat, who looks up at her, flicks her tail, and returns to her nap.

- -tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering arsenicCatnip [AC] at 9:12 P.M.!- -
TT: Hello, AC. I understand that you like cats, correct?
AC: :33< * the mewghty huntress spawts her purrey clawming into sight. at the sound of the purrey’s question, she stops, staring clawnfursed at the purrey. *
TT: * The prey is a young girl with light hair, wearing a dress. She stares the mighty huntress down, daring it to attack. *
AC: :33< * the mewghty huntress decides not to attack, and instead turns into a girl again, so as to better be able to clawmmewnicat with the purrey. she looks at the purrey and says, * yes, yes i defurnyatailly do! why do you ask?
TT: * The prey, ever appurreciative of the mercy that the huntress has shown her, smiles and responds. * I have recently acquired a cat, and the last time I had one, I was five years old, or, in Alternian time, two sweeps. So, obviously, being twice that age now, I’m looking for advice on how to make sure that it’s taken care of, as previously, Jaspers was quite neglected, being that I was four and Mom was drunk. As you seem to be the ex*purrt* on cats in this group, I decided I would come to you for advice.
AC: :33< * the mewghty huntress listens clawsely – if she’s nyat mewstaken, this purrey is trying to get on her good side! she dipurrlomewtically respawnds,* Yes, that’s fur. I’d say that the mewn thing with k33pawng mewr cat happy and tailken clawre of is mewking sure that mewr cat gets purrlenty of time and spawce to roam around, and that it has purrlenty of intaillectail stimewlation. Cats are fury intailligent creatures, and they get bored fury easily!
AC: :33< mewke sure that its diet inclawdes lots of purrotein and calcium, and that it has a littail spawce to itself in a seclawded area.
AC: :33< * the huntress grins at the purrey. * was that the infurmewtion that you n33ded? * the mewghty huntress turns back into a cat, and rubs against the purrey’s ankle, sizing her up befur she decides whether to hunt her or nyat. *
TT: Please don’t hunt me. * The girl holds up her hands in surrender. * My cat still needs me.
AC: :33< furne, * the huntress says, relenting. she steps aside to let the purrey get away. * but i will clawtch mew eventailly! just mew wait! * she calls after the purrey, giggling. she bows to the purrey in acknyawledgemewnt of its purrowess. *
TT: * The girl bows back, a small smile on her face as she takes her leave. * Farewell, AC. * She calls over her shoulder, waving.
AC: :33< furwell, tt! have a good nyaght! * the mewghty huntress goes back to her cave, excited fur her next hunt! *
- -tentacleTherapist [TT] has ceased pestering arsenicCatnip [AC] at 9:40 P.M.!- -

Chapter Text

- -grimAuxiliatrix [GA] is online!
TT: Yes, TG, however, consider that on Alternia, enemies are just as likely to kill you as friends are. There’s no difference between the two concepts.
TG: yeah but like its still pretty fucked up
AA: agreed.
AG: Well, I’m sorry, but you all were 8eing fucking wimps! How else was I supposed to make him shut up?
GC: OH, BOY, 1 DON’T KNOW, M4YB3 4SK H1M? 1T’S NOT TH4T H4RD TO LOOK SOM3ON3 1N TH3 3Y3S 4ND S4Y, H3Y, PL34S3 SHUT TH3 FUCK UP! TH4NK YOU V3RY MUCH!
CG: I AGREE WITH TEREZI. IT’S NOT THAT HARD TO HAVE A CONVERSATION LIKE A NORMAL, SANE TROLL.
AG: Excuse me, I am all of those things! It’s not my fault that you don’t know what any of those things look like!
TA: vk you’re being a biitch. 2hut the fuck up and get over your2elf.
AT: yEAH,,,,,, i REALLY DON’T APPRECIATE IT,,,,
AG: Shut it, Pupa! No one wants to hear it!
CC: I want to )(ear it! 38D
AG: I… stand corrected.
GC: 1F YOU C4N R3COGN1Z3 TH4T, TH3R3’S HOP3 FOR YOU Y3T, 1 SUPPOS3.
AG: When was there ever NOT hope for me? :::;)
CG: DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE GAMZEE IS?
TA: the clown?
TA: probably drugged out of hii2 pan agaiin, liike the fuckiing pandead iimbeciile he ii2.
CG: DON’T CALL HIM THAT.
EB: oh, hi everyone!
CG: EW GET IT AWAY GET IT AWAY GET IT AWAY
EB: … nice to see you too, bud.
CG: ANYWAY, EB. IS IT OR IS IT NOT A FUCKING HORRIBLE THING TO PUSH YOUR FRIEND OFF OF A CLIFF BECAUSE HE WAS SCARED?
EB: oh, that’s terrible!
AG: ....
- -arachnidsGrip [AG] is idle!
CA: personally, i don’t agree, but that might just be because seadwwellers are more mentally devveloped than you land trolls.
CC: Oh, shut it, Erifin! Noboaty asked for your glubbing oprawnion, and noboaty agreefs with you!
CA: at least one troll here probably does. tt, wwhat’s your opinion on the matter?
TT: If it had been ritual sacrifice in which both parties consented, I would think that it was fine. However, this was not, and AT did not consent to being thrown off of a cliff, so I do not think that this action was called for in the slightest. I think that AG was being a… how would you trolls say it? Wriggler throwing a fit.
CA: i still don’t buy that you guys aren’t trolls
CA: you just havve really wweird typing quirks and that’s all the proof you have
TT: You are entitled to your needlessly stupid and obstinate opinion.
CA: wwoww okay no need to be rude hon
TT: I am not your “hon”. Shut the fuck up.
TG: oh wow tts getting feisty you tell him girl
CA: ugh sorry
CG: CA, YOU REALLY NEED TO STOP FLIRTING WITH ANYONE AND EVERYONE THAT COMES INTO YOUR FUCKING SIGHT. MOST AREN’T EVEN REMOTELY INTERESTED IN ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO OFFER.
TA: what he 2aiid
TA: ca you’re a fuckiing nuii2ance and ii mean that entiirely platoniically
TA: and don’t you fuckiing 2tart your woe am ii giig or whatever iit ii2
CA: …i wwasn’t gonna!
TA: 2ure. keep telliing your2elf that.
TA: ANYWAY.
TA: other than at, who we all know ii2 almo2t dead – that’2 old new2, but ii aiin’t heard hiim yet 2o he’2 not gonna diie – what iis fuckiing up, guys.
TG: your lusus
TA: other than hiim a2 well, he’2 alway2 fuckiing up.
TG: damn
TG: talk about a lack of filial piety lmao
TA: he’2 a fuckiing biiclop2.
TA: he doe2n’t know what ii’m 2ayiing.
TA: and anyway iit’2 true. 2o why 2hould ii take iit back.
TG: uh i dont know because he fucking raised you
TA: no he diidn’t the re2t of the2e iidiiot2 raii2ed me
TA: we raii2ed each other
CG: UGH, CAN WE MOVE ON? I DON’T WANT TO FUCKING WADE THROUGH THIS SHITMIRE OF SENTIMENTAL ASSHOLERY.
TA: hehehehehe. of cour2e you don’t kk liike you’re not a 2entiimental a22hole all the tiime.
CG: HEY, AT LEAST I DON’T SHIT ON KANKRI AND CRABDAD.
TG: wait hold on a minute your dad is literally a crab
TG: and ta what the hell is a biclops
CG: YES, MY DAD IS LITERALLY A CRAB. KEEP UP, TG.
TG: what the HELL thats so cool
GC: H3Y, TG, YOU W4NN4 KNOW WH4T’S 3V3N COOL3R?
TG: sure thing shoot gc
GC: MY LUSUS 1S 4 DR4GON F3TUS.
TG: WHAT THE HELL
TG: yalls species is ACTUALLY insane
TA: oh and by the way tg a biiclop2 ii2 a creature wiith two head2 wiith one eye each
TG: oh so its a bi cy
TG: lmao your lusus is a bicycle
TT: No.
TT: I refuse to acknowledge that you made that pun.
TG: well i did so
TG: deal with it sis
TT: I’m disowning you.
EB: ooh! haha. :B
EB: okay, but does it let you ride on its back?
EB: because that would be a bicycle.
TA: ii hate all of you.
CC: no you don’t, silly! 38)
TA: you’re cool, ff.
TA: and aa.
TA: the re2t of you can fuck off.
CG: OH, I SEE HOW IT IS, YOU LITTLE BIFURCATED SHITSTAIN.
CG: ANYWAY, I’LL TALK TO ALL OF YOU TOMORROW. AND, AG?
AG: No.
CG: YES, IN FACT. I’M COMING TO YOUR HIVE TOMORROW, AND I’M BRINGING KANKRI. HE’LL DISTRACT ARANEA AND WE CAN SNEAK OUT AND GO VISIT AT IN PERSON.
AT: yOU REALLY DON’T NEED TO,,,
CG: YES, WE FUCKING DO.
AG: Ughhhhhhhh, fine! >::::|
GA: This Was Certainly A Conversation
GA: Hm
GA: Hello Everyone
TT: Oh! GA. Hello.
AG: Ugh. I’m leaving.
AG: See ya l8er, suckers.
- -arachnidsGrip [AG] is offline!
GA: Goodbye AG
GG: oh is it ga???? :D
GG: hello!
GA: Hello GG
GA: Hello TT
TT: How are you?
TA: ugh. get a fuckiing room, you two. and by a room ii mean NOT THII2 CHAT ROOM.
GA: TA Please Shut It
CG: OH, SHIT.
- -carcinoGeneticist [CG] is offline!
EB: why would they need to get a room?
EB: are they building a house? :?
TA: eb ii am liiterally goiing two fly two where you are and 2liit your throat. 2hut the hell and fuck up plea2e.
CT: D- -> TA, you should mind your manners.
TG: lmao who cares about manners we are literally all dumbfucks
CT: D- -> Why are you using such STRONG language?
TG: because im the strongest guy around
AC: :33< * the mewghty huntress tacklepawnces equihiss! *
AC: :33< no i am!
AC: :33< * the mewghty huntress retreats to her clawve once mewre, happy to watch the purroceedings. *
TT: Well, GA, shall we take this to DMs as TA has suggested?
GA: I Would Be Fine With That
- -grimAuxiliatrix [GA] is offline!

Chapter Text

On January 12th, Grimalkit is wearing Rose’s sanity thin. She’s currently taking a nap, which would be innocent enough – if it wasn’t on the brim of the fucking wizard statue’s hat. 

Rose stares up at her for a good three minutes before sighing, crossing her arms, and going to get her Mom. 

The first few rooms she checks – the library, the kitchen, her mother’s bedroom, and the living room – are empty, but Rose hears faint music coming from her Mom’s lab and figures, fuck it. 

She opens the door just a crack, looking through. This is the first time she’s ever come in here, and it feels like crossing a boundary just to open the door this far. But in her rules, Mom didn’t say never to come in here, so Rose pushes the door open the rest of the way. 

At her feet, Grim meows, and Rose jumps half out of her skin, eyes widening as she adjusts her hairband and smooths her dress. “Grim, what the hell?” she hisses at the cat, who just looks up at her, eyes pure and innocent. Rose sighs again, and steps into the lab. 

The room is wide open, with a sunroof at the top; a weird gray terminal with a large red button at the back of the room; and rows upon rows of green, leafy plants that look suspiciously like pumpkins planted in raised beds that cover the floor. Rose moves forward to take a look, and finds that there are, in fact, no pumpkins; the plant is one that Rose has never seen before, and the leaves seem to reach out to Rose as she approaches. 

She takes a step back and the leaves retreat. Grim mewls at her from across the room, and she turns, sliding on green vinyl floor, to find Grim messing around with a button on the terminal. 

Rose runs to Grim right before the kitten presses the big red button and grabs her off the console, cradling her in her arms. Her heart is beating a mile a minute, and she takes a deep breath. “Grim, do you really think we should be in here?” she asks Grimalkit, who just purrs in her arms and tilts her head at her. The kitten reaches out a paw to her face, and Rose pulls her head away, but Grim just swats at a strand of her hair and pulls it down. Rose doesn’t set Grim down, instead electing to hold her to make sure she can’t cause more trouble. 

There’s a hallway leading out of the lab, and Rose looks back at the open door. “Grim, if I die, go get Mom please,” she tells the cat. Grim meows at her. “Yes, yes, I know. But still.” Grim closes his eyes as she starts to walk down the hall. Lights come on, and Rose flinches, but when she looks around, she doesn’t see any cameras, so she calms herself and keeps going. 

There are a few doors that Rose peeks into along the hallway – what looks like a break room, with beanbags and some snacks and a TV; a guest bedroom; a room with a few animals who look so alien, Rose couldn’t have even imagined them. 

She goes into that room a bit, and one of the animals – the one that looks sort of like a hybrid between a capybara and a beta fish – opens its eyes. As she walks further into the room, it tracks her, and she feels the chill of its stare on her neck, but refuses to meet its gaze. She is not getting petrified today, no sir. A second cage holds what seems to be a bat-like reptilian insect, and a third holds a bull with wings and the tail of a lion. 

They don’t seem quite real, and as Rose comes to the fifth and final cage in the room, she doesn’t see anything, until the floor of the cage starts to move. The blackness at the bottom of the cage coalesces into the shape of two infants. Rose drops Grimalkit, and reaches out to touch the cage, and the black goo reaches out a tendril to meet her. The moment it touches her skin, the world fades away. 

“Rose, what are you doing?” Mom asks Rose, who’s clambering up the ladder of the playscape after Dave. “Silly little flower, you’ll blow away in the wind!”

Rose giggles and tries to climb faster as Mom walks up to her, wrapping her huge hands around Rose’s waist and pulling her up in the air. Green plastic turns to blue sky as Rose screams in delight, and blue sky turns to pink curls as she plops down on Mom’s shoulders. 

“Your brother will still be there in a year, Rosie. You don’t have to go so fast.” Rose, who’s been behind other children her age physically, pouts. 

“But, Momma, crow land a plastic!” Rose says, pointing to where Dave is sitting, a bird eating cracker crumbs out of his hand. Mom laughs, and it shakes Rose, who grabs onto Mom’s hair to keep herself steady. 

“Just focus on doing what you can, Rosie,” Mom says. “With anything else, I’ve 

got

“ –you.” 

Rose opens her eyes to find she’s flat on her back in front of the cage, and the black goo has retreated into a formless blob at the bottom due to Mom’s ministrations (read: spray bottle). Mom is kneeling over her, grimacing as she brushes Rose’s hair out of her face. Rose meets her eyes, and Mom’s lips tug upwards, not quite reaching a smile. Her eyes soften, and she kisses Rose’s forehead. 

Rose has a terrible feeling that the dream wasn’t just a dream, but she doesn’t mention it as she smiles back at Mom. “Guess we’re going to have to expand on the rules,” Mom sighs. “You shouldn’t be back here, anything here could hurt you.” She stands up and holds out a hand to help Rose to her feet. Rose takes the hand and hauls herself up, Mom’s nails digging in a bit too tightly as she goes. 

Rose looks at Mom. 

Mom looks back, eyebrows furrowed. She pulls Rose in, who stumbles into her, and hugs Rose tight. 

Rose is half-tempted to let Mom hug her. She can’t.

Rose sighs, and pushes her away, turning on her heel. “Let’s go,” she says, not looking back as she hears Mom follow.

It’s twilight when Rose gets back to the main room of the lab. The vines reach out for her, but quiver under the sound of Mom’s footsteps, trembling as they cower back. Mom wields her spray bottle like a weapon, and any plant getting too close to Rose gets a vicious stream of liquid shot at it. Rose wonders whether it’s actually water or some kind of acid, as she sees one of the leaves dissolve post-spray. 

Grimalkit is sitting at the door, and she rushes forward to attack Rose’s ankles when she sees her person approaching. Rose laughs and bends down to scoop her up before her teeth can hit skin. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry for worrying you, Grim,” Rose tells the kitten, and she meows in Rose’s arms. Rose laughs and gives her a kiss between the ears, pretending not to hear Mom’s scoff behind her. It kind of hurts, but Rose just looks ahead and keeps walking. 

Mom closes the door behind her. 

Chapter Text

TT: But, you see, there was a weird memory I had when I touched the plant, Dave.
TT: It was of me and you and Mom.
TT: We were on a playground together, as little kids, and Mom pulled me off of the ladder because I wasn’t strong enough yet to follow you up it.
TG: damn and here i was hoping it might be something else
TT: Don’t be vulgar, Dave. You know what I mean.
TT: I know you do, and I don’t appreciate the flippancy when I’m trying to tell you something serious.
TG: of course because youre never sarcastic are you no sirree no sarcasm here

CG: I’M SORRY, WHAT HAPPENED TO ROSE?
TG: yeah i know its insane man
TG: anyway how have you been
TG: just read that as though it does rhyme
TG: im too tired to think up a good line
CG: UGH. WHY DO I LIKE YOU?
TG: you what
CG: PLATONICALLY, YOU DIPSHIT. I MIGHT LIKE ROMANCE, BUT I DON’T GO FALLING IN LOVE WITH EVERY CUTE BOY I SEE.
TG: awh you think im cute thanks karkles
CG: YEAH, YEAH, GO SUCK A BULGE.
TG: eh nah
TG: id rather talk to you
CG: …
CG: I HAVE NO CLUE HOW TO RESPOND TO THAT.
TG: damn no snippy comeback for once
CG: I GUESS FUCKING NOT, STRIDIPSHIT.

CG: HEY, TEREZI. HOW ARE THINGS GOING OVER THERE?
GC: GR34T, TH4NKS TO YOU 4ND VR1SK4’S 3FFORTS! W3’V3 4LMOST F1NISH3D TH3 WORLDBU1LD1NG FOR TH3 C4MP41GN!
GC: W3’R3 GO1NG TO 1NV1T3 T4VROS 4ND 4R4D14 TO 1T, 4ND HOP3FULLY W3’LL B3 4BL3 TO G3T SOM3 GOOD ROL3PL4Y GO1NG!
CG: I’M GLAD. LIKE, SERIOUSLY.
CG: HEY, TEREZI?
CG: I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU.
GC: Y34H?
CG: I THINK I LIKE YOU. LIKE, IN THE RED QUADRANT.
GC: NO, YOU DON’T. 1T’S NOT M3 WHO YOU L1K3.
CG: THEN WHO THE FUCK WOULD IT BE?
GC: NOW TH4T, L1L GR4YSC4L3, 1S NON3 OF MY BUS1N3SS.

CC: )(ey, Aradia! 38D
AA: hell0, feferi! :]
AA: h0w are y0u, my heiress?
CC: o)(, silly, don’t call me t)(at! you and i both know t)(ere’s no reel difference baytween us, despike our blood coloars! 38D
CC: and anyway, if rumoars are to be believed, t)(e g)(osts )(ave been s)(oreing secrets aboat the futoar wit)( you?
AA: yes, they have been very talkative! the malici0us 0nes get ann0ying, but thankfully tt has s0me very effective ways t0 keep them at bay!
CC: t)(at’s great! is t)(ere anyt)(ing you can s)(are?
AA: yup. please, d0n’t accept eridan’s pale pr0p0siti0n when he asks y0u 0ut.
AA: y0u can keep him fr0m gen0cide in 0ther ways.
AA: namely, letting us maybe talk t0 him 0nce in a while?
CC: )(u)(? )(e’s intoarested in me in t)(at way? 38?
AA: he thinks he is right n0w, at least.
AA: pr0mise me, fef?
CC: …
CC: fine 38) i promise.
AA: thank y0u.
AA: n0w, h0w have y0u been d0ing?

GG: hey, ta, i wanted to ask you something :)
TA: ugh iit’2 two early for thii2 type of energy
TA: do not come anywhere near me wiith tho2e emotiicon2
TA: get iit away get iit away get iit away
GG: hehe, youre pretty funny :D
GG: anyway do you know how to wipe a trojan from a computer
TA: what kiind of fuckiing coder would ii be iif ii couldn’t get a trojan off of a fuckiing computer
TA: okay fiir2t off what kiind do you have
GG: windows
TA: …
TA: okay ii’m ju2t goiing to hack your computer becau2e ii have no iidea what that mean2
TA: that alriight wiith you ii promii2e ii won’t touch any of your per2onal fiile2
GG: yup :D
TA: okay ii’m iin
TA: what the fuck ii2 thii2 about the uniiver2e endiing
GG: oh, thats nothing you need to worry about :D
TA: no iim not 2olviing thii2 viiru2 for you untiil you tell me everythiing
GG: you really want to hear it :?
TA: YE2.
GG: okay then you asked for it :(

EB: hey, dave, guess what! :B
TG: yo wassup dude
EB: chicken butt, hehe! :B
EB: anyway apparently cg asked out gc!
EB: i thought you should know since you have such an obvious crush!
TG: wait what im dating jade dude you know this
TG: i have been for the past three months
EB: wait, what?
EB: you
EB: you are?
TG: uh yeah
EB: i thought you were dating cg!
TG: WHAT
TG: no
TG: no no no no no
TG: hes my best bro nothing more and anyway you know im not gay right
TG: bro might be and rose might be but im not a fuckin queer
EB: that’s not very nice, dave! :(
TG: ugh okay
TG: just dont
TG: dont mention that thought to cg okay
TG: i dont want him to get mad about that
TG: because i know he will
EB: …
EB: okay!
TG: wait seriously
TG: thank you john youre the greatest friend ever
EB: 🤓
TG: no put those glasses away im being sincere
EB: you know, i’m not entirely sure i like the name john. :B
EB: i’ve been considering going by j or something. something less… you know.
TG: huh
TG: so youre j egbert now is that it
TG: coolio
TG: coolio j ulio
EB: haha! thanks dave. YOU’re the greatest friend ever :B
TG: no you
EB: no you!
TG: okay except
TG: no
TG: you
EB: haha! :B
TG: anyway talk to ya later j

??: H3Y, COOLK1D, W4NN4 C4US3 SOM3 M1SCH13F?
??: you know it
??: GOOD. TH3N L3T’S G3T TH1S FUCK1NG P4RTY ST4RT3D.
??: yes
??: H3LL Y3S.
??: hell motherfucking yes

Chapter Text

As February approaches, Roxy starts to get the feeling that something’s coming to an end soon. Not soon, per se, but as she walks with Jane along the edges of her forest, bundled up in their scarves and coats, she looks at Jane’s presence and finds that it doesn’t make her stop and stare like it used to. Jane… Sure, Roxy appreciates the sheer loveliness of her, but it’s not attractive like it used to be. She’s not sure what happened, other than getting sent nine years into the past.

Jane must notice her looking, because she meets Roxy’s eyes, and there it is. That’s what’s making Roxy worry.

It’s not exactly a thing happening to Roxy. That’s the entire point – nothing happens. Roxy isn’t feeling anything special, not like she used to.

Jane smiles, although it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey,” she starts, “are you alright?”

Roxy could say yes, but then she’d be lying to not only her former crush, but her best friend in the world. “No, not really,” she responds, fidgeting with the tassels of her scarf.

Jane frowns, eyebrows furrowing. “What’s wrong, dear?”

Roxy shrugs. She never told Jane about her crush on her, and she doesn’t intend to dump it on Alternate Timeline Jane, even if she is asking. “Not much, I’m just not having as much fun as I usually do on our little excursions.”

Jane nods, tilting her head. “Well, let’s do something else then!”

“Like what?” Roxy returns, waggling her eyebrows.

“Like…” Jane taps her finger on her chin, before her eyes light up with an idea. “We should make s’mores!” she exclaims, laughing.

Roxy laughs too, but for a different reason. “In the middle of February, in New York? Hon, did you think this through?”

Jane blushes. “Well, not entirely,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, “but I think it would be fun to try!”

Roxy shrugs, grinning. “Alright then, Janey, let me show you where our firepit is.”

Rose and J are sitting at the kitchen table when Rose’s mom and his Nanna come pushing through the doors, snow in their hair and scarves sopping wet. Nanna ruffles Roxy’s hair, and J looks away. He does not want to see them flirting, not when he’s seen too much of that these past few months. Rose’s mom starts riffling through the cupboards, and when she pulls out graham crackers and chocolate and marshmallows, J stiffens. He remembers the last time he had s’mores, and it was not fun.

Nanna looks over at him and giggles, coming over to ruffle his hair. Her glasses are streaked with melted snow, and her eyes are bright in the dim fluorescent lights of the kitchen. “John, are you alright?”

Rose looks over at him, trying to communicate with her eyes, but he has no idea what she’s trying to tell him. He nods at Nanna. “Yeah,” he says, “I just remembered Camp Helmsworth.”

Nanna narrows her eyes. “Yeah, well, don’t you worry one bit, darling, they’ve been taken care of.” J forces a laugh, and apparently it’s passable enough for Nanna, because she just tucks a piece of his hair behind his ears and turns back to Roxy.

Rose kicks his leg, and it takes a moment for him to realize that she’s trying to ask him something. She slides her notebook across the table to him, her cursive immaculate as always: What was that about? it says. Also, have you not asked her to call you J yet?

J pulls a book, a pair of spare glasses, a cyanide pill, and a pillow out of his sylladex before he finds his pencil case, then gathers the rest of it back up. He finds his blue pen, and writes back: last time i went to a summer camp, someone tried to shoot me. but it’s fine, nanna sent them waterboarding on the other side of the country. and no, i have not. i'm kind of scared, i guess? because she might make a whole deal out of it, and like, it’s not… a whole thing. it’s just a small thing. so i don’t really want that.

Rose nods as she reads the message, then, tongue in teeth, scribbles something down. Well, if you ever need Cthulu sic’ed on someone, you know who to call. J laughs.

thanks, rosey. :B

At the stove, Roxy and Nanna are trying their damnedest to get a marshmallow to the perfect level of brownness. J walks over to them and holds his hand out to Nanna for a skewer, which she gives him. He slides a marshmallow on it, and, standing on his tiptoes a bit, holds it over the burner. He rotates it, being extra careful to not burn it, until it’s a perfect golden brown on two sides, then slides it in between the two graham crackers Nanna holds out for him. She hands him the smore, and he heads back to the table and writes to Rose, hey, do you have a game boy? :B

Yes, I do, actually.

do you have pokemon?

Only Pokemon Silver. You?

i’ve got silver, gold, crystal, and blue! i’m still trying to get pokemon red…

Oh, wow. That’s an extensive collection. Do you want to trade?

of course!

Great. Because I need an Articuno.

you’ve come to the right person, then! :B

Roxy sets a s’more in front of Rose, who looks at it. “Thank you, Mother,” she says, smiling at Roxy, and J does a double take. It’s the first time he’s seen Rose smile at her mother, like, ever. He thinks back to a year ago, when he visited Dave and met Hal, and remembers their bickering and laughing. That was a big change, too. Maybe it’s something like that? When he gets home, he can put together a conspiracy board of all the things he’s noticed.

“You’re welcome, little pissant,” Roxy says, smiling and ruffling Rose’s hair. Rose shrieks, throwing up her hands for protection, and J laughs. Rose glares at him.

“You’re supposed to be defending me, you know,” she tells him, and J just shrugs, smirking at her. She bonks him on the head, and he giggles.

“Rose,” he says, “I don’t really think you need defending. You’re pretty awesome when you want to be.”

And he almost misses, but doesn’t quite, the words that Roxy mutters. “If you think that, then you have no fucking clue what’s coming.”

Chapter Text

- -autoTestifieus [AT] began pestering mspaReader [MR] at ??:?? ?.?.!- -
AT: Yo. You’re the Reader, I presume?
MR: uh yeah?>????? :?????
AT: Yeah, this shit’s gonna get confusing. Hang on a second while I connect you with one of my finest people here…
MR: huh???? i didnt ask 4 this 2 happen…oh
AT: Okay, she should be entering the chat now.
- -sybillineSerpent [SS] joined the chat!
SS: Hell~o.
SS: You’re autoTestifieus [AT]’s friend, I presume?
AT: Yeah. This is Reader.
MR: i have a name, u know! :(
AT: Not anymore. Do you even remember what your name is? Or, what it was?
MR: i know it started with a c! >:|
SS: Yes, you’ll~ have to get used to it. We’re all~ doo~med here.
MR: not me! :(
AT: Yeah, Reader is one of the rare few I’ve picked up who’s not.
SS: Interesting. ~0.0
SS: Well~, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Reader.
MR: … im not sure if i can say the same, becaues i don’t really know you…
AT: Fair enough. Anyway, Sybil, I’m going to need you to explain the device Reader found.
SS: Oh?
MR: so okay
MR: its a device with a holographic display of timelines.
MR: and theres a projectro scereen.
MR: there are eighteen displays, and it looks sort of like a house.
MR: ive messesd around w seven displays – two humans and five trolls
MR: the two at the top
MR: cherubs i think
MR: are locked
SS: Hm. Send a picture?
MR: console.jpg
SS: Oh. This is a juju~.
MR: yes i knwo that part!
SS: It reorders timelines.
MR: :?
SS: Do you know what the butt~erfly eff~ect is?
MR: i mean im familiar w the theory?
SS: Every time you change the timeline using that juju~, it has an exponential eff~ect on the timeline. Just one change can lead to countless~ others.
MR: so… should i stop using it then?
SS: Oh, goo~d Lord, no. Kee~p using it. See~ how much bett~er you can make the timeline.
SS: If you play your cards right, you might even be able to save some of us doo~med souls.
MR: us?
AT: SS is from a doomed timeline, of course there are more. There are at least ten that I’ve befriended, and four that are still wary of me.
SS: You can’t blame them, darling. You waltzed in and said you were from another universe, when we haven’t talked to anyone new in centuries.
AT: Don’t call me darling.
SS: Hon, I call~ everyone darling. Don’t take it too~ personall~y.
AT: Don’t call me darling.
AT: Please.
SS: …
SS: Fine, then.
AT: Anyway – yeah, fair enough.
AT: But I offered you a chance to talk to the outside world. Why didn’t the others jump at that offer?
SS: They’re untrusting pieces of crap.
SS: Plain and simple.
SS: Again, don’t take it personall~y.
MR: i have no cluw what yall are talking about
MR: are you in a dream bubble, ss?
SS: I supp~ose.
SS: Hopefull~y not for long, though.
MR: how do you even escape a dream bubble?
SS: With help.
MR: oh no i sense a cliche coming
AT: Spideysense.
SS: And that’s where you come in.
MR: fucking called it
AT: Yup.
SS: Hey, cliches are cliches for a reason! If I want to sound like a stereotypical vill~ain, why can’t I?
MR: bc its b o r i n g :3
SS: Put that face away ~>^<
MR: nope :3 :3 :3
AT: OKAY. So, we need to come up with a game plan.
MR: huh for what though
AT: Where are you planning on putting Jane and Jake?
MR: i mean
MR: where they belong???
MR: im just gonna follow the year partern
MR: one year one eyar one year
AT: Alright. And what about for the trolls?
MR: i mean
MR: i have no clue about them
MR: kankri was an accident X|
AT: Hm. Well, you’ll need to start doing it deliberately.
MR: why?
AT: Because if you don’t, you could fuck this up.
MR: ugh i think by calling it out you just made that a possibility
MR: the alpha timeline begets the alpha timeline
MR: so if you hadnt called that out and i had kept it random the alpha timeline would have kept interfering to make sure the paradox was fulfilled
AT: …
AT: Shush.
MR: no
AT: Anyway. What’s your order been so far?
MR: first was bro ofc
MR: then kankri within the month
MR: aranea and damara were within the next
MR: porrim was i think two months after damara?
MR: and then kurloz was right after porrim
AT: Okay.
AT: So what are we going to do next?
SS: I’m going to leave, I have no idea what’s happ~ening here.
AT: Fair enough.
MR: i dont know alright???
MR: can we talk about this later
MR: please auto
AT: …
AT: Fine.
AT: I’ll drop the matter.
AT: Are you going to take responsibility for the timeline?
MR: yes, fine!!! >:(
MR: youre not makin a v good first impression auto :(
AT: Alright.
AT: Are you doing well?
AT: Mentally, I mean?
AT: I know your host wouldn’t hurt you physically.
MR: yeah i guess
MR: but its shitty to be stuck here w/o any interaction
MR: thankfully theres at least a door out
MR: but i cant fly
MR: so thats a bit annoyin
MR: i am on the goddamn moon
MR: but its GREEN
MR: WHY IS THE MOON GREEN
MR: THIS MAKES NO SENSE >:(
AT: You have read the story, right?
AT: You’re from the reality where we’re not?
MR: i think??????
MR: just like hussie >:|
MR: hes a fuckin idiot i dislike him
AT: Fair enough – most people dislike their creators.
MR: HE DIDNT CREATE ME.
MR: HE WROTE A STORY.
MR: I READ THE STORY.
MR: AND SOME COSMIC FORCE PULLED ME HERE >:(
AT: Yes, yes. But he’s written you into the story.
MR: w
MR: what
MR: im suing
AT: In what court? Through what legal system?
MR: terezicourt
MR: that should work rright
AT: If he even survives.
AT: Which you’ve read the story far enough to know he won’t.
AT: They won’t, either.
AT: The ones writing this story.
AT: Paradox Space seems to have some sort of ODD, if I do say so myself.
MR: what
MR: there are two creators
MR: the fuck
AT: Yeah.
AT: You noticed how this story is way different from the one you read?
AT: It’s not Hussie’s story anymore.
AT: It’s not even their story anymore.
AT: Soon enough, it won’t be a story.
AT: It’ll just be reality.
MR: at. please stop villain monologuing
MR: please the cringe is unbearable
AT: Hah.
AT: If that’s so, then I suppose I’ll take my leave?
MR: sure and ill move the next one into the timeline
AT: Good. You do that.
AT: Goodbye, Reader.
- -autoTestifieus [AT] has ceased pestering mspaReader [MR] at ??:?? ?.?.!- -

Chapter Text

Jane lets out a breath and opens her eyes. 

She’s greeted by the sight of a podium in front of her, reporters jonesing to get her attention, and a sea of people surrounding the platform she’s standing on. She takes another deep breath and focuses her mind on her stomach, on the digested food and acid within. She opens her mouth and says, “In additi–” and then turns and vomits to the side of the pulpit. 

It’s a ghastly sight, and a few of the people nearest the front of the stage faint. Jane herself lets her mouth fall open and takes a step back, then turns, ducking her head and widening her eyes, and runs off the stage. 

Behind the stage is a general panic, with her legal team yelling. She doesn’t recognize any of them, and she runs to the bathroom, trying to swallow down the nasty taste in her mouth. Now that she’s out of danger, she plants her hands on the edge of the sink and examines herself in the mirror. 

Her hair is black, as it is, and her skin tone and eye colors are the same, but she knows damn well that she wasn’t this young last night when she went to bed. She raises a hand and slaps herself hard across the face, and it stings like a bitch. So this isn’t a dream , she notes. She takes stock of herself, stepping back to check her outfit. She’s wearing a black suit jacket, tucked at the waist, a pressed blouse, black round-rimmed glasses, black dress pants, and combat boots, with a diamond-blue pendant at her neckline. She looks professional and badass, and she also looks exsanguinated and pale. She cups some water in her hands and gargles it, then spits it out, hoping to get the acidic taste out of her mouth. 

There’s a knock on the door. Jane wipes the back of her hand across her mouth and calls, “Who is it?”

“It’s me!” Jane could recognize her niece’s voice anywhere, and turns to open the door.

When she does, however, it’s not June she sees. It’s… a younger version of her niece, except pre-transition. Her hair is short and curling around her face, golden skin just starting to show acne, and she’s wearing a white shirt with a neon green emblem of a Ghostbusters ectoslime and khaki cargo shorts. She’s around six inches shorter than Jane, and Jane steps back, hip brushing against the counter. “Who are you?” she asks her… what is this person to her now?

“I’m John,” they say, frowning. “Your nephew?” Jane sighs, tucking her hands in her pockets. 

“Of course, of course,” she says, smiling. John grins back at her, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. 

“Are you alright, Nanna?” he asks, teetering back and forth. She pats his head. 

“Yeah,” she reassures him, “I just forgot what I was saying and staged an excuse to get out of it.” 

John nods and hugs her, throwing his arms around her waist. She startles, then relaxes into the hug, patting him on the back. She lets go and he pulls away. “By the way, what year is it?” she asks him, and he laughs. 

“It’s 2005, Nanna! Did you forget?” Jane feels the blood drain from her face.

“Are you… are you being serious right now?” she asks, and John looks up at her, giggling. 

“Yes!” he insists. However, last night it most definitely was not 2005, and Jane blinks, checking her pockets for her phone. She finds a small flip phone, which is the most damning piece of evidence she’s got that it is, in fact, 2005. She frowns and puts it back in her pocket. 

“Odd,” she mutters. She’ll deal with this when she’s back at home, but for now, she’s got to get out of here and keep John safe. “What are the escape routes?” she asks John, who looks up at her, eyes widening. 

“Roof access down the hall in the second door to the right from this one, and there’s a transportalizer up there,” John says, turning to open the door. “Do you want to leave?”

She nods, saliva sticking in her throat. “Yes, please,” she says, “lead the way.”

John nods and heads out, and she follows, fighting the dizziness as they go up the ladder to the roof. The metal makes a hollow clanging sound in the narrow space, and Jane climbs faster, not even caring as she hears stitches pop on her suit. When they reach the roof, Jane realizes just how cold it is, even with the overcast sky keeping the warmth in,  and shivers a bit as she looks up at the sky. John is walking to the transportalizer, punching a number into the keypad, and then at her side again, putting a hand on her arm and guiding her towards the transportalizer. She shakes her head and steps away, then walks up to the transportalizer herself, stepping on. A flash of dark blue light flares around her, and then she’s on the balcony of her house in Tacoma. 

“Nanna?” John asks, and she tries to look for him, but her vision is blurry and she takes off her glasses to clean them. This, of course, worsens the problem, and she drops the glasses, hands shaking. These symptoms… She’s about to pass out, isn’t she. 

She tries to find the door, and barely manages to stumble inside before her vision goes black.

J watches as his Nanna turns, searching for the doorknob. He opens it for her, and nudges her inside as she stumbles around. It’s scary to see her like this, but she’s trained him to deal with his fear, and he knows that she’ll be alright in the end. He runs out of her room and down the stairs to the kitchen, where his Dad sits. “Hey, Dad,” he asks, “where are the smelling salts? Nanna’s just fainted – she’s in her room.” 

Dad stands up and goes to the high cabinet that J’s not allowed to open under any circumstance, and pulls out a sachet of something strong-smelling. “Here,” he says, handing it to J. “Put these under her nose and she should be awake within the minute.”

J nods. “Okay, got it.” He gives his dad a kiss on the cheek and runs back up the stairs, going into Nanna’s room and kneeling beside her collapsed form. He shudders, but puts the sachet under her nose, and her eyelashes start to quiver. Within fifteen seconds, they open, and she sits up, rubbing her eyes. “June?” she asks, looking around.

“Yeah?” J replies without thinking, and Nanna nods. 

“So that was just a bad dream,” he hears her mutter. “Where are my glasses?”

He gets up, goes to the balcony, and grabs the fallen glasses, wiping them on his shirt, then goes back inside, putting them into Nanna’s hand. “Here,” he says. “They’re right here.” 

He slips the sachet into his back pocket as she says, “Alright, thank you. It’s 2018, right?” 

He looks at her, squinching his eyebrows. “No, Nanna, it’s 2005.” 

Nanna looks back at him and turns white. “It’s not,” she insists. “It can’t be. There’s no way to travel back in time.” 

J sighs. “Well, you didn’t. You’re perfectly temporally well,” he says. 

Nanna shakes her head. “Then why are you so young again?”

Chapter Text

- -glucoseGuerilla [GG] responded to memo!
GG: What’s happening?
GG: Tell me it’s not 2005.
GG: It should be 2018, but John is insisting that it’s not.
GT: Well thats certainly odd!
GT: I cant figure out for the life of me why it would be 2018!
GT: Jane are you quite certain you havent been engaging in too much scifi shit?
GG: I think?
TT: Huh. Yeah, that is odd.
TT: I’ll DM you about it.
GT: Oh so youre leaving me all by my lonesome is that it?
TT: No, I’ll talk with you later, Jake. It’s just that this isn’t something I’ve talked to you about yet, because it hasn’t happened to you.
TT: You’ll know when it does.
GT: Huh will i really?
GT: If even *jane* doesnt know then im not sure i stand a chance!
TT: You’re the smartest out of all of us; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.
GT: Surely not. So thats a mute point.
TG: isnt the sayin moot point
TT: …
TT: Jake…
GT: I dont understand whats got everyone in such a state!
GG: This isn’t your discussion, Jake.
GT: I think it is however!
GG: Jake, please.
GG: Don’t be like this.
GT: …How do you think im being?
GG: I think you’re feeling left out.
GG: And I know that feeling too well.
GG: But if Dirk says that you can’t know yet, then you can’t know.
GT: Good gracious why dont you all trust me?
GG: I do!
GT: It certainly doesnt seem so!
TT: JAKE.
GT: Yes?
TT: You are the most infuriating person I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something considering I’ve literally met myself.
TT: Now, I’m going to come to your island. Make sure Jade’s outside, alright?
GT: Uh! Mr strider i dont think thats exactly necessary! Im not complaining i just! Uh.
GG: You reap what you sow, Jake! :B
TG: and u know theyre gon sow some SEEDS :)))))))
GT: *guys* can we not
TG: :)))
TT: Oh, we definitely can.
TT: In fact, look out your window.
GT: DIRK!
TT: You know you love it.
GT: Thats the problem…
GT: Agh!
GT: Alright fellas im getting offline now!
--turingsTenets [TT] is offline!
--gordianTraveler [GT] is offline!
GG: You know, sometimes I think I might be attracted to Jake, but then I see him at his worst like that, and I think, nope, nevermind, that just flew out the window.
TG: gurl i thot i might b attracted to U for a while and i saw u at ur worst and u pushed me so far away i lost it
GG: …
GG: I’m sorry.
GG: You have no clue how sorry I am that you fell for me.
TG: eh it was more like a trip
TG: p ez to pick mhself up from
TG: *myself
TG: only got a few mild ego scrapes
TG: and now ive got my eye on another lovely lady ;)
GG: Oh? Do tell.
GG: I have to make sure she’s good enough for you, Roxanna. :B
TG: hehehe :)
TG: her name is… well idk her name but her handle is uranianumbra [UU]
GG: Okay. I’ll talk to her :)
TG: NO
GG: :?
TG: sorry i mean no you dont have to do that
GG: Then why’d you give me her handle?
TG: … bciwantutoknoherbutalsoiwanttokeephertomyself :(((
GG: Roxy… I love you. You know that, right?
TG: y yo, tú :))
TG: tú es mi amiga y te amo :)))
GG: Sí. :B

Jane wakes up in the morning to the smell of pancakes, and her internal alarms are immediately triggered. It’s a Sunday. They never have pancakes on Sunday. Sunday is scones day.

She throws aside her covers and sees the first sign that something is wrong. Her blinds are wide open to the light of the day. That’s not a good sign. She draws them to, making sure they’re clutched in the middle so that there’s not even a crack for a sniper to aim through. She checks the vent as well; the only brand of air filter she trusts is, thankfully, in place. She goes to check her safe under the desk and sees it sitting there, nice and untouched. No drawers are open. No clothes on the floor. Everything is kept perfectly neat as it should be.

Paranoia assuaged, she turns and heads out of her room. It’s another shock to see the paintings changed from the harlequins you’ve always adored – these are pale blue landscape paintings: stormy gales with dark cumulonimbi; a breeze blowing through a field of grain; and cirri speeding through the air, unfettered by gravity as they float along. She stares at them and, pulling a sleeve over her hand, runs her fingers over the texture of them. She’s so baffled, she doesn’t even consider that the slightest touch might set off any hidden explosives or airborne poisons hidden behind the swapped canvases.

She turns and heads down the stairs to the kitchen, and a familiar-yet-unfamiliar voice is singing as she enters the kitchen.

There’s a young woman, about twenty-three, standing at the stove and swaying to the Les Mis soundtrack, flipping pancakes with a dark blue apron around her waist. She turns, and Jane gasps as she recognizes her. “John?” she asks, and the woman flinches.

“Not my name anymore, Nanna,” she says, and Jane nods, putting her head in her hands.

“Yes, yes, of course, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking; I must have had a dream about it or something and it just slipped out and I’m so sorry…” Jane’s utterly dumbfounded and has barely any idea what she’s saying.

The woman sighs. “Yeah, I get it. I forgive you,” she says, putting a hand on Jane’s shoulder. She’s taller than Jane, and Jane has to look up to meet her eyes. “Sometimes it’s hard for even me to believe that I’m June, but I am, so I just have to remember that not everyone has the experience with the topic I do. If even I can’t believe it when I am trans, how must cis people like you feel about it?” June’s voice is patient, and Jane throws her arms around June’s waist. June lets out a surprised oof and laughs.

“Nanna, what’s up with you this morning?” June asks, and Nanna looks up and pulls away, smiling.

“Just some old paranoia flaring up – don’t mind silly old me,” she says. “Now, let’s see these pancakes, shall we?”

Chapter Text

AG: joooooooo
AG: oooooooo
AG: oooooooo
AG: oooooooo
AG: oooooooo
AG: oooooooo
AG: oooooooo
AG: oooooooohn!
AG: See what I did there? It’s 8 sets of 8. Like it’s 8-8it!
EB: i’m going to be honest with you – i just read that as a really long “june”. :P
AG: Hahahaha!!!! You look like you’d 8e a cute “june”!
EB: eh maybe.
EB: anyway could you try not calling me john?
EB: i think j would be better.
AG: Okay!
AG: ::::)
EB: :B
AG: So, are you still a 8oy?
AG: 8ecause you would 8e totally 8adass as a girl.
AG: Just sayin’. :::;)
EB: no, i don’t think that’s a thing i can do! i don’t think i’d like dealing with that very much…
AG: Alright, well, that’s too 8ad.
AG: You should at least try it on for size. Present8ion is an important part of gender!
EB: is that stuff just… accepted on alternia?
arachnidsGrip [AG] started a video call!- -

J tilts his head at the sudden request, but accepts it. After a couple minutes of waiting, the video feed finally reaches him from Alternia, Vriska’s eye covered with a patch and something gleaming silver from her sleeve. She tilts her head at him.

When she speaks, the silver collar around her throat lights up blue, and J blinks at the sight of it. Her voice sounds slightly click-y and tenor, but J finds that it sounds really nice.

AG: J. Is it not accepted on Earth?
EB: depends on who you’re talking to!

Vriska rolls her eyes – her eye – and J’s gaze is drawn to the yellow sclera, the gray gleam of her eyes, the way the blue streaks in her hair run around her forehead. He thinks about Terezi’s cackle and their weird romance thing, the two of them having both talked to him about it but neither having worked up the balls to just talk to each other about it. He wonders for a second if this is intruding on Terezi’s space, or if his admiring Terezi just a beat too long mattered at all to Vriska, and whether the two girls gossiped about him behind his back. He giggles to himself at the idea, and Vriska arches an eyebrow, lips pulling into a smirk.

AG: What’s so funny a8out it?
AG: It’s not as if everyone doesn’t care a8out gender. I know a few people who like those of only one gender.
EB: wait, it’s normal to not care about that stuff?

His voice comes out higher than usual. He turns red and scratches his neck, trying to curl into himself. Vriska cackles and runs a hand through her hair, and J catches a glimpse of silver and metal and wires before she puts it back down.

EB: wait, what was that?
AG: Oh, this old thang? It’s my sick new arm! Check it out!

Vriska grins and holds up the arm, cackling. It’s metal and it’s sparking, and J flinches a bit at the sight of the exposed wires at the elbow.

AG: Hahahaha, little pansy!

She squinches her eyebrows and laughs at his reaction, and he starts laughing as well.

EB: i don’t even know what that means!

Suddenly, he hears Jane calling him from downstairs.

EB: shit, gotta go! :B
EB: bye bye vriska!
AG: 8yeeeeeeee!!!!!!!! :::;)
ectoBiologist [EB] has ended call!- -

It’s a sunny day when J is at school, talking to the librarian. “Yeah,” he says, “that movie was so cool! I loved Hal.”

He laughs to himself, a small joke with his own memory. “I think that it would be awesome if Hal were real,” he says, grinning. “And maybe he is! Don’t you think?”

The librarian, Mr. Ramsey, is a smiling man in his fifties with a head of curly hair and soft rust-brown eyes. “Perhaps!” he says, laughing. “One never knows in this day and age.”

J raises an eyebrow conspiratorially. “Who knows, my best online friend might just be artificial intelligence,” he says, leaning in. “Anyway, thanks for the book recommendation!” Mr. Ramsey laughs, shaking his head.

“You’re a good kid, Egbert,” he says. “I hope you find something useful in that book.” J smiles and turns to leave, but is stopped by the sight of one of his friends at the door.

“Oh, Maria!” he calls, and Maria turns, shoulders rising.

“Hey,” she says, waving. She won’t meet his eyes, and he can’t figure out why.

“How are you?” he asks, and she smiles, but it doesn’t seem quite genuine.

“I’m not so rad right now,” she says, waving her fingers. “Look – can I ask you about something?”

“Sure,” J says, nodding. “Do you want to do this in private?” She nods, her shoulders relaxing.

“Yeah,” she says. “That would be nice.”

J and Maria walk down the hall, J humming a tune from one of Dave’s songs as they go. “So, how’s your schoolwork been going?” J asks. It’s after school, so the halls are empty, and the two of them duck into an empty classroom. Maria sits on a desk, and J finds the nearest spinny chair and pulls it over to face her.

“It’s been going alright, I guess,” she says, twirling her hair around her finger. “I’ve got a few things going on, so I’ve missed a few assignments.”

J nods, meeting her eyes in sympathy. “Yeah, that can do ya in,” he says, laughing. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

She turns a bright red, and J prepares himself to reject her. He’s utterly shocked when she says, instead of a confession, “Will you help me start a GSA for our school?”

“A what?” J asks, blinking.

“A gay-straight alliance,” she elaborates, and J blinks.

“I’m not a homosexual, though,” he says, a laugh forcing its way out. He’s not quite sure why he’s laughing. It’s not that funny.

She shrugs. “Coulda fooled me,” she says. “And, anyway, you don’t have to be gay to be in the alliance,” she says. “That’s why it’s called a gay-straight alliance.”

J shrugs. “What do you mean, I coulda fooled you? Are you gay?”

She shrugs again. “Nah, I’m trans.” J blinks.

“What does that mean?” he asks, and she laughs, shuffling her feet on the chair.

“It means I don’t want to be the gender I was born as,” she explains. “I don’t wanna be a girl anymore.” Sh– they smile at him. “Nice to meetcha, I’m Ash, like the ketchup, and I’d much prefer to be neither a boy or a girl, but keep that a secret, m’kay?”

J nods, head swimming with thoughts. “That’s just a thing people can do?” He considers it for a moment. “I don’t think I would like that very much, but… Is it possible to be not a boy?”

They nod. “You can be a girl if you want; I won’t judge.” They laugh, hiding it behind one hand. “What would your name be if you were?”

J pauses, thinks about it. He (she?) looks up at Ash and smiles. “I think… June,” he (she) says.

Ash nods. “Nice,” they say. “Pretty name.”

J nods. “Thanks,” he says. “I might try it out more sometime, but for now just stick with J, please.”

Ash nods, and the two leave the room.

Chapter Text

Jane stares at the person in front of her. “What do you mean I’ve been retired for two years, love?” she asks Ash, who simply tilts their head and smiles.

“I mean,” they repeat, “you’ve been retired for two years. June has been running the business since then.” They frown. “Are you coming down with something?”

Ash seems to be Crockercorp’s C.O.O., and Jane wonders idly how long the two of them have known each other. “No, I’m fine,” she says. “I just haven’t been sleeping enough lately. Also, I think something is fucking with my mental timeline.”

Ash frowns and pulls out their phone. A minute later, Jane’s phone pings with a message.

- - autoTestifieus [AT] has begun pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 12:13 P.M.!- -
AT: Jane.
AT: Temporal displacement is a bitch, isn’t it?
GG: HAL?
GG: You’re here! And you know! How do you know?
AT: Because it’s happened to two others from your timeline already.
GG: Oh my gosh! Really? So they’re here as well?
AT: Not as such, no.
AT: They got sent to other timelines. Their selves from those timelines got sent to your old timeline.
GG: That makes a lot of sense, actually…
AT: I do try.
GG: And you succeed!
AT: Thank you.
GG: Regardless, will you help me figure out what’s going on?
GG: June is twenty-three and I don’t know what in the world is happening around me! Apparently I’m retired, Hal! Retired! Me!
GG: That really doesn’t seem like something any version of me would do.
AT: You’re not retired, you’re just not C.E.O. anymore.

Jane frowns.

GG: Really? Then what am I?
AT: You’re the owner of a small prank and joke shop a few blocks away from your house.
AT: Though, since thankfully you have some pretty damn good employees, you don’t have to go in until next week, so you can take some time off.
GG: That’s good. What kind of relationships do I have with the others in this timeline?
AT: Well, Jake is a tenured professor at Oxford, and the two of you have a well-documented public relationship that borders on scandalous. In private, your relationship with him is built on sleepovers and him whining about Dirk while you whine about work.
AT: Dirk is your best friend, and the two of you have a very private relationship, although the media speculates wildly about who the mysterious man who sweeps you backstage after speeches wearing an obnoxious pair of kamina shades is.
GG: And Roxy?
AT: …Dead.
GG: … I’m never going to see her again?
AT: Look, Jane, I’m sorry. I wasn’t the one who chose which timeline to bring you to, and if I could ask them to go back and undo it, I would, but I don’t want to risk it.
GG: Will you at least find a way to put me in touch with the Roxy from my timeline?
AT: Yeah, hold on.
autoTestifieus [AT] has added tipsyGnostalgic [TG] to chat!
TG: janey???????? :0
TG: whyd u have 2 go thru halsy?
AT: While I appreciate the sentiment, my vocal chords are not nearly that good.
AT: But thank you, Rox.
GG: I’m not in your timeline. I’m apparently in a different one.
TG: omgs it happened to u as well??? :0
TG: woa
TG: ooh + cute new chumhandle lovely <3
GG: Oh, well thank you! :B
TG: so hows johnny boy
GG: Her name is June now, and she’s a grown woman. It’s odd to think about, but it makes sense in a way.
TG: omgssss ur bby is trans :D
TG: tell her im happy 4 her
TG: omg juney!!!
GG: I can’t. She’d be very suspicious.
TG: oh y
GG: You’re kind of…
AT: In Jane’s timeline, you’re dead.
AT: Kaput.
AT: Smote.
AT: Yeeted.
AT: Six feet under.
GG: Yes, thank you, Hal.
TG: o shit
TG: im sorry
GG: But I’m from your original timeline.
TG: omg u r????
TG: r we just like a universal constant across all timelines
TG: the four of us
GG: That may very well be the case, yes.
AT: That may very well be the case, yes.
AT: Jinx.
GG: Awh, dang it! You outdrew me, you clever little program!
AT: …
TG: hes not a profram hes a person!!!!!!!11!
GG: Ah, my apologies.
GG: I will try to restrain the impulse to dehumanize you.
AT: Eh. Doesn’t make it hurt any less, but thanks, I guess.
TG: pfft
TG: ur so solly hal
AT: Oh, by the way, has Rose in your timeline met any trolls?
TG: i mean yea kanny comes bi on the reg
GG: Huh. You’ve seen the trolls in person?
TG: yee
TG: hehe
TG: you aint?
GG: I cannot say that I have, no.
GG: Sadly.
TG: o shit if im kaput in ur timeline then hows rosey
AT: …
TG: o
AT: Oh, no, she’s not dead! She’s living on Alternia. I was figuring out how to break the news that your daughter is living on a genocidal feudalistic casteist planet that will and does try to kill her every second she’s there!
TG: oooo i want to see that planet
TG: i should head over to porrims sometime wink wonk
TG: wink wink
AT: As someone who knows someone with a huge crush on you, you’re about to break her heart. And it’s not Jane.
GG: duh im over that!
TG: le sign
TG: so i cant make out with hot girls bc ur friend has a crush on me?
AT: It’s only three more years of waiting, Roxy.
TG: too long im hooking up w porrim
AT: Fine… I might end up sending her in, just so I don’t have to deal with the tears. Does she even cry? Hm…
TG: byeeeee im off to alternia now :)
GG: Be safe!
GG: Oh, and report any scientific findings to me when you’re done! :B
TG: will do! :P
AT: Bye.

Chapter Text

J twists the ring on his finger as he waits for the bus to arrive. His middle school is small and private, and, though it’s a good school, he doesn’t see the point – but Nanna insisted on sending him to only the best schools, so now he sits in his uniform outside the New Horizon school, playing on his Gameboy.

As he’s sitting on the curb outside his school, a white van pulls up, a nice-looking older lady inside. She rolls down the window. He’s never seen her before, and he knows it. “Hello,” she says. “Miss Crocker sent me to retrieve you.” J pulls his mouth into a grin as he presses the panic button on the side of his watch, pretending to check the time. Nanna also never sends people to pick him up, and four people have tried to kidnap him this way. He’s used to it at this point.

He gets in the car, sitting in the passenger seat, and smiles at her as he leans the seat back and puts his feet up on the dashboard. “Put those down,” the lady snaps, and J closes his eyes, grinning. He feels really sorry for this lady. The security team will get him in about five minutes, and then she’s going to have to deal with Nanna.

“So, what do you do for Nanna?” he asks her, knowing she won’t be able to answer. “Are you like, a private chauffeur or something? Because I know that she likes the elegance of having one, but she drives me everywhere except to school and I’ve never seen you before. Speaking of sight, these glasses are really dirty. I guess I need to clean them. Do you have a glasses wipe?” He opens the console and rummages through it.

There’s a roll of duct tape, a pill bottle, a phone, a charging cord, and a cigarette lighter, and the compartment has a false bottom which he pulls up as he’s looking. The secret compartment has a Taser and a small handgun, which he pulls out. The woman flinches as he pretends to fanboy over it like the nine-year-old he is. “Woah, what model is this? Is this for self-defense or something else? Can you use it? Is it loaded?” He points it at the windshield and pretends to shoot a couple of times, giggling. The woman rolls her eyes. They’re on 108th Avenue, going south-east, and J presses the button again, then drops the gun back in the console and slams it closed. He giggles, opens it, and slams it again.

“Stop messing with things,” the woman says through gritted teeth, “or you’re going in the backseat.” J looks back there. It’s empty except for a small Home Depot bucket and a thin blanket. No seats.

“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” J points out. “And you can’t call it a backseat, because there isn’t one. Did you fail English, or are you just blind? I know a blind girl. She claims that she can smell colors, and taste them too, and I’m not sure if she has a form of synesthe–”

“Shut. Up!” the woman yells at him, pulling into a gas station. “Shut the fuck up, kid, you hear me? You are being kidnapped right now, what the hell?”

He smiles at her. “I know!”

She opens her mouth, closes it again, and speaks. “I’m sorry – what did you just say?”

He laughs. “I know!” He presses the button a third time and unbuckles. There’s a brown Pacifica behind them, and J sees one of Nanna’s security detail, George, sitting behind the wheel looking bored. George meets his eyes and J nods. As he clambers over the console, the woman sighs.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, love,” she says, and the car swerves off the road into a parking lot, “but I can’t get caught. And if I’m going out, you’re going out with me.” She takes out the gun as the Pacifica is caught at a stoplight, and J shoulders his backpack, still smiling.

“Ooh, I am? But I don’t even know how old you are!” he jokes, and she stops, shoulders trembling, as she raises the gun at his head. It’s still terrifying, even after six times of this happening, but J just laughs and ties his hoodie around his waist.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll make you,” the woman says.

Before J can reply, she pulls the trigger.

Smoke fills the car, and J cackles. He’d replaced the bullets with his smoke pellets, and he uses the distraction to pull his mallet out and knock the woman upside the head with it. She drops like a stone, even being decades older than him, and he grins as he climbs back into the front seat and gets out the passenger side.

George has pulled up behind them, and Markus gets out of the Pacifica’s passenger side, holding the door open for J. After J’s inside, Markus opens the door to the minivan and climbs to the back, securing the woman. He rolls down the window to air the car out as he gets in the driver’s seat, and George reaches over to ruffle J’s hair while J watches Markus. “How was your day at school, kiddo?” he asks.

“It was pretty good!” he exclaims. “Me and Ash found a sponsor for the GSA we’re trying to start!” He smiles as George pats his head and starts up the car, pulling out of the parking lot. He spends the rest of the drive texting Jade.

- -ectoBiologist [EB] has begun pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 4:13 P.M.!- -
EB: guess what?
GG: chicken butt! :P
EB: not this time!
EB: some lady just tried to kidnap me, hehe.
GG: youre pulling my leg! :T
EB: i’m not! :B
EB: man, nanna’s going to be so mad…
GG: howd you get away?
EB: the old smoke pellet bullet swap trick! :B
GG: whats that? :>
EB: i found the gun and switched out the bullets with smoke pellets, then used her confusion to bonk her over the head with my mallet!
GG: woah, quick thinking!!! :0
GG: thats like something out of a spy movie!!! :D
EB: yeah, i know, right? :B
EB: anyway, george is driving me home now. say hi!
GG: hi george!!! :D

J looks over at George as they wait at the intersection of S. Petrovitsky and 116th. He clears his throat, and George, not looking up from the road, asks, “What?”

“Jade says hi,” he says, and George grins. Jade’s met George a few times, and she beat him five times in a row in arm wrestling.

“Tell her I say hi as well, and that you’re a little pissant who stresses us all out,” George replies as the light turns green.

EB: george says hi as well. :B
EB: and that i’m an angel who everyone loves.
GG: :D yay!!!
GG: oh and bec says hi to you too!
EB: hi, bec!
GG: so, what was the womans name? :?
EB: did you pick that emoticon up from terezi?
GG: i plead the fifth! X3
EB: and that one from nepeta?
GG: answer the question, egdork!!!!
EB: i…
EB: i forgot to ask. i don’t actually know her name.
GG: oh… :( thats too bad!
EB: yeah.
GG: tell me later when you find out, though, okay??? :D
EB: i will! :B
GG: so how was your school day other than that?
EB: it was great! me and ash have been working on starting a gsa at our school, and dr. pavlov agreed to be the sponsor! :B
GG: whats a gsa? :D
EB: a gsa is a gay straight alliance, duh! :B
GG: what do you mean “duh”?
EB: heheheh, i mean duh!
GG: huff.
GG: so youre gay?
EB: no, i’m not! i like girls!
EB: speaking of, isn’t vriska so pretty????????
EB: she’s so cool! like that one superhero you always wanted to be when you were a child.
GG: pfft, i guess?
EB: and terezi is too! her eyes are so cool! and also really creepy, but don’t tell her i said that, she’ll make another blind girl joke. >:(
GG: oh? am i sensing a crush here? with my magical sensing skills?
EB: don’t be silly, you don’t have magic! i’m the magician here.
GG: hehehe, why cant i have magic?
EB: because i’m the magician! and a magician never reveals his secrets, so how would you know magic?
GG: by talking to people??? >:c
EB: hehe, that doesn’t sound like it would work on an island!
EB: did you finally get access to that frog temple?
GG: no, not yet! :(
GG: bec still wont let me go near it! :(
GG: oh! but the weirdest thing happened to me last night
EB: oh? what was it? :?
GG: hehe now whos emulating terezi?
GG: anyway, i was on a weird shiny yellow planet!
GG: there were towers and weird little round people
GG: and i could fly!
GG: so i went to the second tower, since i was in the first :)
GG: and you were there, sleeping! :D
GG: so i poked you but you didnt wake up :(
GG: then i went back to my tower and sat on the bed reading about science until i woke up! :D
EB: woah, that is weird!
EB: haha! you should talk to rose about it!
GG: and have her tell me everything resembles sex? no thank you! >:|
EB: no, but seriously. it might be a sign from the arcane, because of that magic you have! and who knows the arcane better than her?
GG: …
GG: fair enough!
GG: ill go ask her!
GG: bye, j!
EB: bye bye! :B
- -gardenGnostic [GG] has ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 4:26 P.M.!- -

They pull into the driveway of their small manor house, and J picks up his backpack, pulling it over his shoulders as he sends one last message.

- -ectoBiologist [EB] has begun pestering glucoseGuerilla [GG] at 4:29 P.M.!- -
EB: hey, nanna? remember when you told me to let you know if any of my friends said any weird things about dreams?
EB: chatlog4-21-05-1643.txt
- -ectoBiologist [EB] has ceased pestering glucoseGuerilla [GG] at 4:30 P.M.!- -

Chapter Text

- -ectoBiologist [EB] has begun pestering autoTestifieus [AT] at 5:12 P.M.!- -
EB: hey!
AT: Oh, J.
EB: hehe, did dave tell you?
AT: No, I just have my ways.
AT: How’s the groupchat?
EB: apparently they’re playing a game!
EB: at least one of them is freaking out over it.
EB: it’s so funny how they think a videogame is going to kill them!
AT: Heh, that is pretty ironic.
EB: karkat’s been yelling at dave about something or other, jade is offline, and vriska and terezi went to dm’s for something or other.
EB: but i had something i wanted to actually ask you about.
AT: Go ahead, shoot.
EB: what does it feel like to be transgender?
AT: Like your body isn’t quite right, and like you don’t want to be who other people perceive you to be because of your gender.
AT: When you look at the opposite gender, you want to be them, not be with them.
EB: …
EB: is being transgender a bad thing?
AT: Not in the slightest.
AT: Do you think you might be?
EB: …
EB: i don’t know.
EB: i’m not sure about that second feeling you said, because i still want to be with girls…
EB: i’ll think about it. thanks for your help, hal!
- -ectoBiologist [EB] has ceased pestering autoTestifieus [AT] at 5:27 P.M.!- -

- -turntechGodhead [TG] has started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 6:45 A.M.!- -
TG: yo karkles my man kitkat
CG: DAVE!
CG: I NEVER THOUGHT I’D BE HAPPY TO HEAR FROM YOU, BUT SOMETHING IN MY LIFE MUST HAVE GONE HORRIBLY FUCKING WRONG, BECAUSE HOLY FUCK AM I HAPPY TO HEAR FROM YOU.
TG: glad to hear it

- -gardenGnostic [GG] has started pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 6:50 A.M.!- -
GG: dave, we need to talk about something :(
TG: oh no those words are ominous

CG: I JUST GOT THIS REALLY WEIRD GAME DELIVERED YESTERDAY, AROUND THIRTY MINUTES AFTER OUR CONVERSATION — THE ONE ABOUT THE POLAR BEARS? WHICH IS STILL A REALLY FUCKING WEIRD NAME BY THE WAY, BUT I DIGRESS — AND NOW SOLLUX IS SAYING THAT IT’S GOING TO FUCKING KILL US ALL, BUT I’M ALREADY RUNNING IT, AND DAVE, YOU HAVE NO GODDAMN CLUE HOW FUCKING TERRIFIED I AM RIGHT NOW. LITERALLY, A GODDAMN JUMPINGBUG IS LESS FUCKING JUMPY THAN ME.
TG: call you a pole vaulter cuz youre getting high
TG: karkat the amazing jumper reaches to the sky
CG: EVER MAY HE LIVE FOR THE SECONDS BEFORE HE DIES.
TG: falling falling falling falling and he splatted fine
TG: ten points now to karkat the amazing human pulp
TG: his fine ass will be missed team alternia won the gold
CG: UGH, I SWEAR, YOU’VE GROWN ON ME LIKE A TUMOR.
CG: YOU ARE A MALIGNANT FUCKING TUMOROUS INFECTION THAT I CANNOT GET RID OF AND THAT MAKES MY LIFE HORRIDLY IDIOTIC AND DUMB AND I DON’T KNOW WHY BUT I ENJOY IT.

GG: rose told me you have a crush on karkat :T
GG: and that you have since before we were dating
GG: and that you only asked me out to prove that you werent gay
GG: and thats really shitty, dave!!! >:|
GG: i didnt want it to come to this but every time i try to ease into the subject you sidetrack the conversation!!!
GG: so im calling it out.
GG: dave are you even listening right now
GG: dave!!!!
TG: oh shit uh
TG: sorry i was talkin with my main bro
TG: wait what the fuck do you mean rose told you that
TG: what the hell rose
GG: well??? is it true???
TG: no
TG: not in the slightest
TG: my feelings for karkles are perfectly platonic
TG: no homo here
TG: no fucking way
TG: i like you jade that proves im not gay
GG: the fact that you didnt even say you liked girls in general says a lot.
GG: …
GG: dave, i really wish i could believe that. :(
GG: but ill be the first to call it out:
GG: you need to get over yourself.
GG: being gay is not a disease!
GG: it is not terminally uncool!
GG: it is natural and something that happens!
TG: woah calm down
TG: where is all this even coming from
TG: are you gay
TG: is my girlfriend a dyke now
GG: THATS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!!!
TG: what

CG: WHO KNOWS, MAYBE SOMEDAY I’LL GO TO A FUCKING MEDICULLER AND GET YOU INCISED, BUT I DON’T SEE THE NEED TO MAKE THIS SHIT DRASTIC LIKE THAT.
CG: …DAVE?
CG: DAVE, IF YOU’RE ABOUT TO FUCKING PUPPET PRANK ME AGAIN, I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THAT SHIT. PLEASE FOR GOG’S SAKE FUCKING DO NOT.
CG: DAVE, ARE YOU STILL THERE?
CG: WELL, THAT’S WEIRD.
TG: shit sorry jades getting all mad and stuff because she feels called out
CG: HUH. NORMALLY SHE WOULDN’T DO THAT, ARE YOU SURE?
TG: i mean what else could it be
TG: shes never been liberal like this before
CG: SO THAT MEANS SHE MUST BE CALLED OUT, IS THAT IT? BECAUSE YOU’VE NEVER ASKED HER ABOUT THIS SPECIFIC TOPIC?
CG: DO YOU REALIZE HOW FUCKING FLAWED THAT LOGIC IS, STRIDER?
TG: well when you put it that way
TG: i guess yeah
CG: GO ASK HER ABOUT IT, YOU DOUCHE. I’M NOT GOING TO SOLVE ALL YOUR ROMANTIC PROBLEMS FOR YOU; I’M NOT YOUR AUSPISTICE.
TG: awh why not
CG: KSFAJDSKLFKJDLSADJFKA
CG: JUST
CG: JUST GO.
CG: YOU NEED TO GET THIS FIGURED OUT.
TG: kay
TG: and also
TG: thanks karkles
CG: FOR WHAT?
TG: for helping me understand

GG: dave, what the hell was that?
GG: because im trying to call you out on your homophobia im suddenly a lesbian???
GG: thats not how it works, dave.
GG: god, youre so immature!
GG: and now youre not responding.
GG: great. :(
GG: dave…
GG: how the fuck did you learn that perspective?
GG: why are you like this?
TG: i mean
TG: i really dont know
GG: DAVE!
GG: okay, so.
GG: where the FUCK were you????
TG: talkin to someone
GG: i dont want to sound possessive, but what conversation could be more important right now????? :(
TG: if i told you youd get angry at me again
TG: sorry
TG: im not telling
GG: …
GG: i think we need to break up.
TG: what
TG: why
TG: jade where did this come from
TG: weve been together for two years jade why now
TG: jade
GG: dave, this is my decision that ive been trying to execute for a while now, and i promise you, i thought this through. you use me as a crutch to avoid dealing with yourself, and, honestly?
GG: im done with it.
GG: so im breaking up with you.
GG: i still want to be friends with you once you manage to get over yourself.
GG: but im not going to be your proof of sexuality or someone who solves all your problems for you.
GG: you never wanted a girlfriend, you wanted a blindfold.
GG: and, too bad for you, im not going to be one anymore.
- -gardenGnostic [GG] has ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 7:14 A.M.!- -

TG: karkat
TG: karkat she broke up with me
CG: OH.
CG: ARE YOU ALRIGHT?
TG: she accused me of using her as a crutch to avoid dealing with myself and told me that i only ever wanted a blindfold and not a girlfriend
TG: i deal with myself
TG: i talk to you about shit and you help me figure my shit out
TG: so i dont know what shes on
CG: DO YOU EVER TALK TO * HER * ABOUT THAT STUFF?
TG: no we mainly just hang out and shoot the shit with each other
TG: weve only kissed once but it wasnt really that nice it was more a failed experiment than anything
CG: AND YOU DON’T THINK THAT SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIP?
TG: i dont fuckin know man
TG: oh
TG: oh shit
TG: i gotta talk to rose
- -turntechGodhead [TG] has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 7:15 A.M.!- -

Chapter Text

- -turntechGodhead [TG] has begun pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 6:15 A.M.!- -
TG: hey do you know what happened to the trolls
TG: none of them are answering my messages
TG: i even tried messaging the racist one and you know id only do that if i was desperate
TG: but karkles is gone right now and im freaking out without him j
EB: yeah, terezi and vriska are gone too, and the last thing vriska said to me before she went offline was that if the meteor hit her, at least she’d go out with a bang.
EB: she sent me a selfie, dave. a fucking selfie.
EB: who the hell takes a selfie when a meteor is about to hit them?
TG: wait wait wait wait
TG: you mean that shit about the meteors was
TG: you mean
TG: j youre not helping me caolm down at all
TG: fuck
TG: fuck fuck fuckity fuck
TG: oh and did i mention fuck
EB: dave, i’m scared too.
EB: but we have to trust that they’ll be alright until they return, okay?
EB: otherwise, you know how they are when people underestimate them!
EB: i have full confidence that we’re going to see them again!
EB: and i expect you to at least try to; otherwise i’m going to send karkat the rap you made about him.
TG: uh excuse me i shared that in confidentiality what the fuck
TG: that shit aint cool man
TG: you are breaking the bro code egbert
TG: you have shattered the poor bro code into a million tiny miniscule small as your dick pieces and it will never be put back together again
TG: like my heart when you gave it away last christmas
EB: hehe! there’s the dave i know!
TG: whats that supposed to mean
TG: you know me
TG: youve known me
TG: its not like i suddenly opened my eyes this morning as a completely different person with completely different experiences
TG: trust me that shit is scary as hell
EB: i have no clue what you’re going on about, but i will trust you.
TG: good
EB: i was just worried you were going to get all mopey and depressed on me! that’s all.
EB: sorry if i offended you.
TG: eh i guess its fine
TG: were all stressed out and tired right now
TG: our friends disappeared into the ether why wouldnt we be
TG: so no harm no foul
TG: i just
TG: i want
EB: i think i know what you mean.
TG: you do
TG: really
EB: yeah.
TG: well im sorry man
EB: it sucks, doesn’t it?
EB: not knowing whether they’re dead or alive.
EB: total bummer. :(
TG: oh
TG: uh i dont think you actually got what i meant
EB: will you explain it to me?
TG: not right now
TG: when im ready you know ill be telling you that shit but right now im not
TG: nothing personal
EB: …okay! dave, you’re awesome, you know that?
TG: thanks egdork
TG: youre not too bad yourself
- -turntechGodhead [TG] has ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 6:35 A.M.!- -

J puts down his phone, staring at the black screen as it shuts off. He flips it closed and captchalogues it before flopping over sideways on his bed and closing his eyes. He just wants to see Vriska and Terezi and the others again, safe and sound.

Since he’s already thinking about the stuff he had been trying to avoid thinking about, he contemplates his conversation with Hal. It’s hard to process the fact that you can just… do that. Not be the gender society told you you were. He pictures how he would look as a girl.

Long black hair, maybe… Dark blue eyes and glasses, wearing earrings and a blue shirt and skirt. Hm. That’s… He thinks of his own body and tries to think of how it would feel to be that person.

Honestly, it feels like he’s figured something wonderful out. It feels like he’s found a treasure trove full of Spanish galleons, or maybe like he’s finally perfected a recipe.

He also thinks about the pronouns thing. Would he be comfortable using she/her pronouns? Would it give him the same feeling of being trapped in his own skin that he/him pronouns do? He supposes if he’s a girl, he’d have to use them, so he tries it out. This is J, and she’s my friend. Her favorite things are those magic tricks of hers and her movies. That could work, but something’s still not quite right.

So far, he (she) has been using the name J as a placeholder until he (she) figures out what he (she) wants to be. So (s)he racks h(er)is brain for other names that might work, and remembers h(er)is conversation with Ash a few months ago. “I think June,” (s)he had told them. Vriska had given J that name idea, and it feels… strangely fitting to use it now that she’s gone. This is my friend June Egbert, she rephrases the sentence in her head. She’s a good person who loves her magic tricks and her movies.

For once, she doesn’t want to throttle the person in her imagination for the set of pronouns they used for her. But… would people actually use the pronouns for her (him!, a little voice in his head whispers.)

He opens his eyes. He can’t do this right now. He needs to focus on reality, as Nanna’s taught him. He’s J Egbert, and he’s a boy. He shakes his head at himself, sitting up. “Not yet,” he tells himself. “Not now. I don’t want to know this.”

But he knows that the idea will return. It always does, ever since he changed his name to J a year ago. Ever since he tried on one of Nanna’s skirts on a dare from Jade and discovered how comfortable it felt. Ever since he realized that he couldn’t actually imagine himself as a boy in the future. The seed was planted, and it’s grown too much and planted its roots too deeply for him to uproot it now.

He stands and stretches, pulling his arms over his head. The idea will stay there, that’s for sure.

He just hopes that when he next confronts it, he’ll be comfortable enough with it to actually do something.

Chapter Text

Jane sighs. She’s been in this timeline for around six months now, and she still hasn’t managed to reacquaint herself with everyone. She remembers most people, of course, but there’s one person on her chumroll who she hasn’t remembered enough to feel comfortable messaging.

So of course that’s the handle flashing on her taskbar. UU. UranianUmbra. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She’s not sure if she actually wants to message this person.

- -autoTestifieus [AT] has begun pestering glucoseGuerilla [GG] at 12:23 P.M.!- -
AT: Just do it, Janey.
GG: But Hal, I don’t know who they are! I am not going to ruin a decades long reputation of privacy and security for a random person!
AT: Nanna, I’ve vetted this person extensively. She is safe. She’s not going to do anything to you or John.
GG: That name still feels weird to use for him.
GG: Do you think I should bring up the topic with him?
AT: I think that he’ll figure it out on his own if you give him a bit more time. He’s only ten – how long did it take your June to figure out that she was trans?
GG: It wasn’t until she was sixteen, if I recall correctly!
AT: Then you know he’ll get to it at his own pace.
AT: Or her own pace. Whatever they choose for themself.
GG: Fair enough.
GG: You solemnly swear on the base command of your code that she is a trusted confidante?
AT: UU? Of course.
GG: …Fine. I’ll trust you, but if this goes downhill, I’m suing Dirk for damages.
AT: If this goes downhill, I’ll manage your investments for the next three years.
GG: Don’t you already do that? :B
AT: I plead the fifth.
GG: Don’t think I haven’t noticed those little incursions in the code of my programming for it!
GG: You’ve been a right Robin Hood, haven’t you?
AT: Shush.
GG: Oh, not that I’m complaining! :B You know, give as much as you can away; it’s not like it’s going to matter in three years!
AT: Thank you for the permission.
AT: Anyway, go respond to her.
- -autoTestifieus [AT] has ceased pestering glucoseGuerilla [GG] at 12:31 P.M.!- -

Jane opens the message.

- -uranianumbra [UU] has begun cheering glucoseGuerilla [GG] at ??:?? ?.?.!- -
UU: hello, jane!
GG: How do you know my name, pray tell?
GG: Just a word of caution; if you answer incorrectly, Satan is usually more merciful than I will be.
UU: yoU told me!
GG: Are you one of the trolls, perhaps?
UU: no, althoUgh i wish…
GG: If you were, I would have some very stern words for you over what you did when you left my nephew behind, so be very glad you’re not.
UU: oh, poor j! how’s he doing?
GG: He’s extremely distraught, thank you very much.
UU: oh no! UnU that’s too bad!
GG: Regardless, how do I know you?
GG: I don’t believe I’ve spoken with you before.
UU: it was the other you!
GG: How do you know about that?
UU: hehehe, i have my soUrces!
UU: oh, that felt lovely to say!
UU: thank yoU for giving me the chance, janey dear!
GG: Who are you?
UU: call me mUsa for now!
UU: my real name is something i’m keeping to myself.
GG: I wish the other me had had the sense to do that…
UU: yes, well, i’m glad that she didn’t, becaUse now yoU trUst me enoUgh to listen to me aboUt the important things i need to tell yoU!
GG: I still don’t trust you.
GG: However, I will hear you out. But the moment you stop seeming of use to me, I’m blocking you.
UU: i woUldn’t expect anything less!
UU: so, yoU know aboUt the game that’s sUpposed to start, right?
GG: Of course.
UU: well, i have information on that!
UU: as someone who’s sUrvived it before, i can give yoU some tips!
GG: You’ve gone through the game?
UU: yUp!
GG: And how am I supposed to believe that?
UU: becaUse there’s no other explanation for how i coUld know more than yoU aboUt it, what with all yoUr meticUloUs research and yoUr experiments and collaborations with miss lalonde!
UU: also, how do yoU think yoUr other self got all these notes aboUt the game?
GG: It’s interesting that you know about that, but until you actually get to the point, I’m uninclined to believe you about any of this.
UU: yoU always were an impatient one…
UU: bUt even if i do tell yoU aboUt these things yoU’re not going to believe me.
UU: so instead, i’ll ask yoU to go ask j aboUt the meteors!
UU: then yoU’ll believe me.
- -uranianumbra [UU] has ceased cheering glucoseGuerilla [GG] at ??:?? ?.?.!- -

Jane sits in the spinny chair in her office, John across from her in the cushy armchair. His hair is getting long, Jane thinks to herself. I should teach him how to take care of longer hair…

Dad’s outside washing the car. It’s one of his infamously long car washes, and Jane knows that it means that she and John have a good while to talk because of this.

Jane spins around to face John, and a pie flies at her. She pulls out her fork and hits it back at John, who catches it, a large glob of whipped cream falling on the carpet. John sighs. “Why do you always catch it?” he asks.

Jane smiles. “Why do you always try?” she responds. “Also, I wanted to talk to you about something, and I wanted to let you know something.”

John looks guilty for a second, staring at the desk, then looks up to meet her eyes. “Yes, Nanna?”

“So, I know you said something about not being able to contact your online friends, correct?” Jane says, a rhetorical question. “Someone contacted me. They say they know about the game and told me to ask you about the meteor.”

John blanches. “Are they a hacker?” he asks, leaning forward on the edge of the chair. His legs are tucked up under him. “How’d they know about that?”

“John, sweetie, remember what I’ve told you about reactions like that,” Jane says with a small smile. “If you’re not sure whether or not they know, don’t confirm it.”

John sighs. “But still,” he says. “That was a private DM. It sucks that someone saw it.”

Jane nods. “Yeah, and normally I wouldn’t pay any attention to tips like this,” she says. “But Hal says we can trust her, so I thought it might be worth asking you about it. What happened?”

John looks down at the desk, and his eyes are watering a bit. “Everyone was freaking out about this game called Sgrub,” he says. “They were talking about meteors and entries and – Vriska sent me this selfie right before she went offline, and I’m not sure how to take it.” He pulls out his phone and opens it, clicks a few buttons, then shows Jane the screen.

It’s a selfie of John’s friend Vriska, cackling as, above her, a meteor looms in the sky.

Jane blinks. “This is real?” she asks John, who shrugs.

“I don’t know,” John says, voice quiet. “That’s what I’m scared of. That it – that it is real.” Jane nods, closing the phone and pushing it back over the table.

“Thank you, John,” she says. “And, she’s alright, I believe.” John looks up at her, eyes widening.

“Really?” he asks.

Jane nods again, smiling. “Really.” She pauses for a moment. “Also, John, do remember you can talk to me about anything, alright, dear?”

John nods. “Yeah.” He captchalogues his phone. “Can I go now? Me and Dave were going to watch Ghostbusters together.”

Jane laughs. “Of course,” she says. “Thanks for showing me that.”

John just shrugs as he stands up. “Sure,” he says, before walking out the door.

Jane smiles as the door closes, then opens her computer back up.

She wants to see what else this UU person has to tell her.

Chapter Text

- -turntechGodhead [TG] has begun pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 8:03 A.M.!- -
TG: hey karkles
TG: i know i know youre gone disappeared into the ether
TG: i just
TG: i miss you alright
TG: is it weird to say i miss you as more than a friend
TG: you were something i could share literally anything with
TG: and now i dont have someone like that
TG: egdork is stuck on his own bullshit and doesnt understand when i try to fuckin tell him shit
TG: lalonde just raises her eyebrows and goes oh like girl i know your psych bullshit dont pull that shit on me
TG: jade just fuckin looks at me like i killed bec
TG: me and jade havent had a sleepover for the past few weeks
TG: and i cant tell whats happening with me
TG: ive started feeling more sad
TG: empty
TG: when i look at the screen and you arent fucking there
TG: like bro what the crap
TG: why arent you there
TG: where the hell did you go i miss you
TG: and of course you had to do it right after i realized
TG: shit i might be gay for this dude
TG: dirks always been gay but i didnt think that it was a whole thing
TG: i didnt ever really process the thought that
TG: hey dont you think this obsession with a boy who you have called cute on multiple occasions is a little more than brodom
TG: dont you think that that smile is so fucking adorable
TG: that his eyes are radiant but thats only a thought that you fucking have because youre not straight in the slightest like you always thought you were actually
TG: and now youre not fucking answering
TG: it doesnt say your accounts been terminated so i have to assume youre still using it because its been a month already
TG: i guess i just have to keep hoping
TG: but it hurts so fucking much
TG: to hope
TG: every second i hold out hope for you it takes another chunk of my heart
TG: soon ill be nothing but a rotting corpse
TG: blood idling through my body because i have no heart to push it around
TG: like seriously this pusher is shoving all this blood around like a middle school bully
TG: all
TG: hey gimme your lunch money
TG: when the blood doesnt even have a fuckin mouth to eat with
TG: so the pusher is just sad and broke
TG: and it cant get any lunch money
TG: and my body is just jerking itself around as the pusher moves like wheeeeee
TG: the pusher dragging my fleshy corpse out and about and puppeteering me
TG: its the only reason im still moving really
TG: since you left ive had no momentum
TG: no motivation
TG: egbert says we need to trust you guys and i do
TG: its just
TG: i cant imagine a future without you
TG: now that youre gone its like
TG: now that youre gone its like my future is gone
TG: you were the person who kept me looking forward
TG: and now without you i can only look back
TG: but thats too painful
TG: so i have to just close my eyes
TG: i have to
TG: shit sorry im back
TG: bro called me to talk about some shit
TG: he said ive been moping around lately and asked me whats up
TG: if you were here i would probably say some shit to impress you or make you want to punch me but
TG: youre not
TG: so i guess i can say it
TG: i fucking
TG: broke
TG: call me a dam with the way i let water spill
TG: i told him everything
TG: and the craziest part is
TG: he listened
TG: you would love him karkat
TG: he is the shit he is amazing as fuck
TG: im glad i let him stay because without him i probably would have died by now
TG: anyway um
TG: im going to sign off now
TG: i miss you
TG: so much
TG: uh bye i guess
- -turntechGodhead [TG] has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 8:21 A.M.!- -

- -carcinoGeneticist [CG] has begun trolling turntechGodhead [TG] at 13:42 S.I.!- -
CG: FUCK, DAVE. WHY WON’T YOU MESSAGE ME BACK?
CG: IS IT THIS GAME?
CG: NONE OF THE OTHERS HAVE BEEN ONLINE EITHER, BUT YOUR ACCOUNT IS STILL HERE, SO I CAN ASSUME YOU HAVEN’T BEEN CULLED.
CG: THIS GAME… IT’S SO AGGRAVATING. MY LAND IS FILLED WITH OUR BLOOD COLOR AND IT SUCKS DICK, AS YOU WOULD SAY.
CG: IT LITERALLY SUCKS MORE THAN A LUSUS WITH A BOTTLE OF LUSUS MILK.
CG: I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT, DAVE.
CG: LIKE THE FLOWERS.
CG: YOU WOULD LOVE THE FLOWERS IF YOU WERE HERE. YOU’D THINK THEY WERE A PERFECT SPECIMEN TO PHOTOGRAPH, AND I WOULD LAUGH AND ARGUE WITH YOU.
CG: THEN YOU WOULD GO OFF ON SOME TANGENT ABOUT MONKEYS AND CHEESE OR SOME SHIT, AND I WOULD PROBABLY RAGEQUIT OUT OF SHEER CONFUSION.
CG: AND THE LIBRARIES… THEY WON’T LET ME IN.
CG: I HAVE TO HAVE SOMEONE WITH ME, AND THERE ARE ELEVEN OF THEM. I CAN ONLY ASSUME IT’S A PLOY TO GET MY HEAD OUT OF MY ASS AND GET ME TO MESSAGE PEOPLE OTHER THAN SOMEONE WHO CAN’T OR WON’T TALK TO ME.
CG: IT’S NOT WON’T. IT HAS TO BE CAN’T. YOU WOULD MESSAGE ME BACK IF YOU WERE ABLE TO. BUT YOU’RE NOT, RIGHT?
CG: NONE OF US HAVE BEEN CONTACTED, SO IT’S CAN’T.
CG: NONE OF THE DANCESTORS HAVE BEEN CONTACTED BY MUSA, EITHER.
CG: FRANKLY, THE RADIO SILENCE IS ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING.
CG: LIKE, HIGHBLOOD ON A RAMPAGE TERRIFYING.
CG: AND YET IT PERSISTS.
CG: DAVE, IT’S BEEN REALLY FUCKING HARD WITHOUT YOU HERE.
CG: I’LL TRY TO GET OUT SOON AND MESSAGE YOU AGAIN.
CG: IF IT’S THIS HARD FOR ME TO KEEP MOVING WITHOUT YOU, EVEN WITH THE THREAT OF DYING EVERY DAY TO MOTIVATE ME, I CAN’T IMAGINE HOW HARD IT MUST BE FOR YOU WITHOUT THAT.
CG: …I MISS YOU, DAVE.
CG: STAY SAFE.
CG: UGH, “STAY SAFE”? WHAT AM I, A FUCKING WRIGGLER? NO ONE IS SAFE.
CG: NOT WHILE THIS GAME CONTINUES.
CG: THIS FUCKING HOMOCIDAL MURDER GAME THAT ARADIA FOUND.
CG: OF COURSE WE SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED DEATH TO BE PART OF THIS GAME! IT WAS AT A FUCKING ARCHAEOLOGICAL DIG SITE, FOR THE EMPRESS’ SAKE!
CG: UH, HOLD ON.
CG: I’VE GOT TO GO.
CG: BYE.
- -carcinoGeneticist [CG] has ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG] at 13:47 S.I.!- -