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They won the game. They remade the earth. And by some miracle, some new game plus, when they stepped onto the other side of that door, they came face to face with their old guardians.
All except for one.
There had been shock, yelling, tearful hugs. Endless chatter. And Dave had stood there on the grass, looking around, heart in his throat. He's had a whole conga line of foster carers as a kid. A handful of caseworkers. Nobody who would count, and sure enough, they're not here.
But he knows he had a brother. He's still got that one ratty picture in some corner of his sylladex. He can't remember the guy, but… there's Roxy's mom, and there's Dirk's bro (fuck that's weird), and if they count, surely…
Then Roxy is pulling him over to her older double - Rose's mom - shit, his mom - and for a while it's out of his mind.
The next few weeks are so busy and emotionally draining he hasn't got a chance to dwell. Everyone's doing something or organizing something or exploring or building something, and it's easy to clock out the think machine and let it all pull him along. But then John drops a bombshell: his bro IS alive, he IS here, John found him. He just chose to dip instantaneously and is not interested in meeting anyone. Well, that's not what John says. He says he's hiding, and he's being a little bitch.
Dave doesn't know what to believe. John presses a slip of paper into his hand anyway.
“Here’s his dumb handle if you want it,” he says, and his words make him seem irritated, but the look behind his specs is soft.
Dave unfolds the paper, can't hold back a startled snicker at the stupid handle. This all feels so bizzare.
“Pfft what… How’d you find it?”
John looks away, shrugging. “Internet shenanigans, y’know…”
Dave doesn't push him, cool as a cucumber, totally. But he tucks that piece of paper into his pocket, where it burns for the rest of their hangout.
At the casa de crazy, flowers are blooming, the sun is shining, and Dave is gonna do the thing. He's gonna send that message.
He stretches his fingers, shakes them out. Curls up a little more on his couch, phone on his knees. Time to put pen to paper and paper to ass. Man. He's about to lay down the sickest opener.
-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering assman-87 [AM] --
TG: hey bro
-- assman-87 [AM] is now an idle chum! --
Okay, maybe that didn't quite hit the mark. He'd prepared for this outcome, to be honest. "What's the worst that could happen?" shrink rhetoric came back with a "he ghosts my ass and I never see him again for the rest of my life" which ain't much of a downgrade from the past decade and a half and however long they lost to the game. Dave's leg jiggles as he watches the whole lot of nothing happening in his messages, tapping the screen now and then to keep it from going black. He doesn't wait too long, though, because, seriously? Just 'hey bro'? He might as well have sent a bunch of spaces.
Dave huffs to himself, and makes himself jot down the essentials. He doesn't want to waste Bro's time.
TG: so i know its been a while and youre pretty busy but my household had this idea of reinventing burgers and when i say household i mean mostly me bitching about there not bein any good ones around so jade if you know jade shes good with technology
Okay, wow, that's too much exposition already. Time to backspace.
Except, his thumb hits send. Fuck. Cover up time.
TG: anyway tl;dr gonna have a whole barbecue shindig and its really good food
TG: like i know it sounds implausible but its cool we tested it out already and its legitimately more than edible and the odds are stacked that youd defs like it
AM: whos goin
Oh shit. The message makes him jump, fingers absconding him out of the entire app. No, no more rambling. He's gotta digest and regroup. He counts in his head.
TG: jade, karkat, terezi, dirks a maybe, rose and kanaya are a maybe, uh
TG: i can give you rundowns of what theyre like if you want
TG: unless you wanna bring someone thats cool too
TG: its just chill
AM: what are they like then.
AM: your friends.
Dave blinks. Is that a yes? God, he's tryna be so careful with this.
TG: oh ok
TG: do you want it in
TG: alphabetical order or the order they got listed
And he's making himself sound like a sassy asshole. Dave wilts into the cushions, wanting to die a little.
AM: dont right care.
He really does die a little at that. But he dug this hole, now he's gotta fill it.
TG: jades like
TG: shes nice i dunno shes pretty upbeat and really smart
TG: shes the one with the hogwarts glasses dont tell her i said that if you come haha
TG: she literally handles rifles so im not sure how i could be more serious
TG: karkats one of the trolls that came through with us hes chill i guess
TG: talks a lot
TG: terezis weird sorry
TG: dirk is dirk
TG: uh rose and kanaya are married which is pretty cool theyre prolly the most adult outta all of us for that
Dave frowns at his own messages. He knows it's weird to go on like that. Also, he just made it sound like Bro's gonna be babysitting a bunch of kids.
AM: anything id have to watch out for.
AM: how many have you dated.
He snorts, surprised out of his spiral. Okay.
TG: uh
TG: three
TG: kinda
TG: do you wanna know my dating history now damn dude it sounds like youre documenting something
For a second that feels like eternity, no reply comes. Then:
AM: you legend.
AM: pound it.
Dave blanks. Oh my god. What is this. The first praise he has ever heard from his Bro, ever. Them brodaddy issues be raising them ugly heads. And also, the first indication of a human behind there that might actually connect with his humour? Not sure why he's surprised, he's already got a prototype in Dirk, but. He slips down the cushion a bit to type up close to his face, very careful.
TG: bunp
TG: its all up and pounded bro
Broness secured.
AM: so its all chill now tho right.
AM: between all of you.
TG: yeah its all good
TG: it was all like young and stupid stuff
TG: except for karkat i guess that was recent
TG: its all talked out though no worries bro you aint gonna step on any toes or anything
Man, he doesn't wanna hear about this surely, all his corny self-discovery teenager crap is probably far too lame for a seasoned adult.
When Dave thinks about how he's pictured him, imagining him from the one shitty picture he has, with the cap on and the skater look…Dave chews his lip, kicking it in hesitation town. Yeah, too much talk about himself. Time for a sneaky change of topic. Plus, he has to ask. His curiosity is killing him.
TG: i guess youve dated a lot huh
AM: no.
He blinks, uncomprehending.
TG: oh
TG: so i cant pound it back dude what
AM: i prefer to look at it this way.
AM: no ex dramas.
AM: or wasting money buying the cow.
AM: i get all the milk i need so.
Dave nods at no one in particular, as no one else is even there. He is so sage and wise. He can totally comprehend.
TG: yeah i get that
TG: its a whole lotta investment i guess
TG: playing the field sounds like a trip
AM: we all got our paths to walk.
He snorts a little. Dave takes a break to just fucking lie down already. He shifts onto his back, praying the phone won't end up smacking him in the face.
TG: thanks for the tip miyagi
TG: i know i didnt message you for the fortune cookie wisdom but i am actually learning a lot
TG: oh uh so
TG: should i mark you down for a steak or burger or both
The reply comes quickly.
AM: wouldnt be a trial if i didnt try both.
AM: of your reinvention yeah.
He can't help the corner of his mouth ticking up. Hell yeah, meet up unlocked.
TG: sweet ok
TG: i mean fuck were not stingy you could even have several
TG: dont eat anything all day just to down a banquet of steaks
AM: noted.
AM: do i bring stuff.
TG: only yourself man
TG: plus friends if you want them
TG: or whatever you wanna bring but its cool well have salads and drinks and stuff
AM: do you drink.
Dave replies so fucking fast.
TG: yeah
TG: i can drink
AM: whats your poison.
TG: uh cider
TG: dont laugh or anything its good ok
AM: cool.
AM: wait so jades not your ball and chain or anything right.
AM: thats what you meant before.
AM: is it her house too though.
TG: what
TG: no
TG: no what shes not she was uh
AM: chill.
AM: i just wanna know who else i gotta bring shit for thats all.
AM: gotta be a good guest if im getting steak out of it.
AM: you said household.
AM: whos that mean.
TG: oh no hey you dont have to bring anything
TG: im just rooming with jade karkat and tz
TG: its easier for kingdom duties and shit
AM: k.
TG: i mean
TG: those are the ones ive dated
TG: wow ok i never realised how weird that was before haha what the fuck
Dave would love to be shutting up right now.
TG: its not weird though i promise were all cool and theyll probably drink cider too i dunno??
TG: not that you gotta bring a crateful of the stuff like if thats gonna weigh you down might as well dump it so you can get here
Hm. Yep, sufficiently hecked himself. Dave rolls over to faceplant in the couch.
AM: sounds like you just want a crateful of cider.
AM: i rock up and they all say sorry we are more of a wine house.
AM: and you hoard it for yourself.
AM: sound about right.
Dave peeks at the screen. Ah, yes. Familial resemblance.
TG: hey im not gonna look a gift horse in the molars or anything
TG: so im pleading the fifth rn
AM: aight.
TG: its sunday btw
TG: sorry for the short notice
AM: sall good.
Dave mashes at the keyboard, screaming internally, exhaling through the nose externally.
TG: ok im gonna go give jade the heads up
TG: thanks for coming bro
The sound of pots being hit with spoons under an argument about troll Lord of the Rings or whatever is coming from the kitchen as Dave slides off the couch. He has to get up, move, or he might vibrate out of his skin. Lucky he has a lot of people to talk at.
His phone lights up with another message, left behind on the couch.
AM: yeah.
It turns out setting up for a party isn't the ideal timing for a mental breakdown. Eventually Karkat banishes him from flapping around the kitchen, and Jade ends up putting him to work setting up the picnic table in the yard. This takes longer than necessary because Dave has to go inside several times to rethink which shirt he wants to wear.
He keeps getting out his phone and checking their chat like a nervous tic. Dave had already sent the address. Messaging again at this point would probably be a bit much. But what if he just, like, poked? What if his bro is lost?
Dave is back outside again, his phone unlocked on the picnic table he's wiping down so he can keep giving it furtive glances, when he hears the faint sound of the doorbell from the front of the house, and his entire heart crams up into his throat.
It rings a second time as Dave makes it back through the house, dying five times on the way to the door (luckily none of them heroic or just). When he opens it, though, there's nobody there.
He walks out and peers around the front yard, and standing looking over the fence that blocks off the side of the house is a stranger with a cooler. Steeling himself, Dave shuffles on over.
From the fence, the backyard is fully visible. Jade already has the BBQ going, whipping up some burgers with Karkat while he yells about some technique she's doing wrong or something, which is funny because this is definitely the first time KK has ever used a grill in his life, the poser. Jade just whips his arm with the oily spatula.
Dave usually adores their cliche suburban life, but something about staring at the domestic shenanigans over the fence like this is making him feel supremely awkward. It's still somehow less awkward than actually letting himself look head-on at this guy.
"Hey," he says, before he can lose his nerve. "You're pretty early."
His bro, because that's definitely who this is, turns easily, like he'd known Dave was there all along. He's a Dirk, all right. Broader, scruffier than Dirk would ever let himself look, but wearing, of course, those exact same shades.
"Guess so."
Dave waits for him to say something else, but gets the feeling he is being stared down instead. He has no idea what his bro is thinking about. The last time this guy saw him in person, Dave was what. Three months old?
It's… really weird. Yeah, there's no escaping that. But Dave finds some of his tension unwinding. He's Mature Dave now, and he reminds himself of the following points: (his!) bro came, Bro came bearing gifts he said he would, also is talking to him, and therefore obviously wants to be here.
Still, Dave shifts awkwardly under his gaze. He glances away, looks back again. His shades do pretty much nothing to disguise that, good job Dave.
He hooks his thumbs in his pockets.
"Uh… it's cool, though. Means you get to see the huge spectacle of us cooking." He points his thumb over his shoulder, aiming for nonchalant and probably coming off as a fidgety weirdo instead. "We should go through the house, though, I left the door open."
"All right," says Bro, after a beat.
"Ok," Dave nods, glancing at the cooler. He could sure use one right now. He starts walking backwards the way he came. Trips, but he is a cool cat and cool cats always land on their feet, so it's more of a stumble. He turns the right way around, not even ashamed because no one even saw that obviously.
He peeks back anyway. Despite his bro's general lack of expression, Dave's getting a vibe. He has experience with Dirk now, after all. The vibe he's getting is a good one, at least.
(If Bro were narrating this story, he'd say his vibe was some kinda hiccup in his chest, like indigestion. What is this? He knows Dave's older alternate self. It's like looking at a little bambi version of him. All apple pie Sunday BBQ instead of Hollywood glitter. It's weird. But something about it eases an old shitty feeling a little. Bro did the right thing. The kid looks healthy and happy. Dave made it. Even if he's tripping over his own legs, dear fuck.)
Bro continues to say nothing, which is throwing Dave a little, because similarities aside, Dirk is not a man of few words. He follows Dave silently into the house, Dave pretending his back isn't pricking the entire time.
"One sec," says Dave, detouring into the kitchen alone to grab glasses and a bottle opener. Nobody has bothered to turn any lights on, since everyone is outside.
He cringes a little internally at how messy everything is. They're a house of young adults, okay? He can't help but see it now through a stranger's eyes: pots of all sorts of plants everywhere, goofy photo frames crowded with pictures of them and their friends, TZ's neon vomit rugs.
Dave hurries out of the kitchen with an armful of glasses, fumbling them in shock when he nearly crashes into his bro looming like a ghost in the middle of the hall. Like a ninja he manages to catch the rogue glass.
"Oh shit, hey," blurts Dave, cradling the glass safely back in his arm. "Sorry for the. There's stuff everywhere. I could give you a tour if you want, we know the trolls who built this place. It's kinda interesting."
How clear is it that he is stalling for a few more seconds of alone time?
His bro is quiet for another moment, apparently staring at the pictures of his friends hanging on the wall, before he turns to look at Dave, who is definitely not gripping the glasses for dear life.
"Sure."
Dave just kind of stands there for a beat, unsure what to do. Didn't he give himself plans for this? How did he forget them so quick? His eyes dart to the back door then back to Bro, before he shifts his weight.
"Um. Right now? Or... I guess…"
He can almost feel his bro tensing. Are Dave's nerves that obvious? Is he being annoying?
"Whatever. I just want to put this shit somewhere, y'know." He lifts the cooler.
"Oh shit, right, yeah." Dave springs into action, starts towards the back door, has to juggle glasses again. "I guess you can raincheck a lil, use it as an excuse to go inside later when you get tired of my friends. Haha."
He manages to slide the door open, steps outside. He suffers a twinge of guilt as he realizes someone finished setting up the picnic table for him: there's a cloth table runner thing and plates and a citronella candle and everything. Jade looks up to raise a hand to them, but Vantas is apparently concentrating too hard to turn around.
Dave is intensely aware of his bro's hulking presence behind him.
Jade comes over and gives Bro a sunny smile. "Hi! I feel like I should introduce myself, but it seems a bit silly at this point!"
"Sup," his bro says. "Too true. Everyone on the planet knows who you are. And you know my name, since you know the other guy and all."
Shit, that's more than he's said this entire time. As they talk by the grill, Dave puts down all his clutter on the table.
"I do!" says Jade, pointing out Karkat (manning the grill and wearing the apron Dave bought him as a joke) ("It's Crabbin' Time!") and making more small talk in that easy way she does.
Dave subtly pries the cooler from bro's hand and sets it over with their larger one on the grass under the tree by the table. House member number four is missing. TZ might be napping. Dave zones out listening to the slow banter with Jade and tries not to think about how stilted things were when he tried the same in the house.
"Cool," he hears his bro say, "so where's your booze?" Dave notices him give a minute twitch, like he only just realized his cooler has been mysteriously liberated from him.
Dave crouches down and lifts the cooler lid to find it is, in fact, entirely cider.
Footsteps crunch in the grass.
"This the brand you like, or."
Dave starts, looks up from his slav squat. Luckily he's wearing very flexible skinny jeans.
"Sure, yeah, I mean I don't have a favorite, so this is… shit. You really brought an entire cooler of cider? Is it seriously just cider all the way down in this ice town… do you even like cider?"
He might die. Bro listened to him and just went the fuck ahead and got a whole crateful of appley goodness. What the fuck.
"It's all right. Pass me one."
Dave flicks a tiny smile at him, and complies. One sweet Alcohol for each of them. Someone yells over the fence, and Karkat curses and drops his shit to shuffle-run inside to greet the new guests. Dave sits at the picnic table, awkwardly popping the cap on his bottle before offering the opener over.
"Thanks for this," he tries, sneaking a glance at Bro as he settles down at the table beside Dave, letting his legs stretch out in the cool space underneath.
They sit and they sip.
Dave is acutely aware of how awkward this is, but he's determined to stick this shit out.
The family starts to file into the yard: Rosemary, TZ, Karkles. Harley gives the old married couple big hugs and sits opposite Dave. Food is put on the table, people mill around the yard, doing the talking thing. Dave just kinds… responds to questions when people come by the coolers, but is mostly a listener this time, glancing at Bro out of the corner of his eye every now and then.
It's like there's a weird bubble around him and Bro. Nobody else is getting in their business, even though he can see the evil interest in Rose's eyes from here. Fuck, there's definitely a whole group chat about this that he's not in.
He can feel Jade eyeing him curiously. She nudges his foot with hers and he stiffens, takes a deeper swig of the cider, and nearly spits when Bro actually speaks.
"You don't wanna go socialize or nothin."
Dave feels like he does a whole who what me routine, bites the rim of his bottle to stop himself doing it so dramatically. Just. A casual furtive glance.
"Huh? Nah, I mean, I am socializing, ain't I?"
His bro waves a lazy hand in the direction of his housemates offering people drinks. "Not meant to be doin' hosty shit, huh?"
That is a nice big manly hand. And. A cool biker glove right there, obviously. Dave feels his cheeks flush a little, and he puts both hands on his cool glass.
"What? No, we're cool. Everyone knows each other and shit. It's relaxed and informal as it gets, it's not like I gotta be my mother suddenly."
"Mother?"
Oh right, it's time for put-foot-in-mouth hour. Dave chugs more cider before resurfacing.
"Not my. Not my real one. I mean technically none of us even have real ones anyway, guess just a lotta fake ones."
"Was she a legendary dinner party desperate housewife or somethin'?"
"No, just." Dave is flushing more now. Good going, Dave, painted yourself into a corner. Of course the guy wants to know. Of course he'll care enough to ask stuff. "A couple of them were, uh," he mumbles into his drink, "all about the whole keeping up appearances schtick, so. It's kinda funny."
"That's women for ya."
Dave snorts, and it's amplified by his bottle. He looks over at Bro. "Not all women, come on. Just those nuclear families, mainly."
"Wouldn't know," says bro. "Hey, where's your bathroom."
Dave puts his bottle down. "Just… in round the… do you want a guide?"
Bro nods before downing the rest of the bottle.
Dave relishes the excuse to get up and stretch his legs without being awkward. He's probably being super weird hogging Bro like this, but he's ignoring that. Yep. He leaves his cider and extracts himself from the table, shoves hands in pockets to make sure Bro is following before ducking inside.
With his big shadow following him, Dave leads them past the kitchen, down the hall, before stopping abruptly to gesture with both hands at a door.
"Just uh, ignore the laundry in there too."
"Okay."
Dave walks into the living room. He's just going to sit here for a little bit before going out again.
"Got any water?"
Dave jumps. Fuck, he totally camped out here waiting like a creep.
"Um, yeah, the fridge is one with that cool mechanism."
Bro doesn't wait for him to elaborate, just silently disappears into the kitchen. But when he comes out again, he just sits next to Dave.
Dave swings a leg before realizing that's lame. He goes still, huffs out a sigh. This has sort of been… really intense. Now in the quiet of the living room, he's really feeling that, feeling irritated and tired from it. He thought he could put on a face when Bro arrived, but now it's kinda stink town, so. Guess it's time for realtalk.
"Um, bro. Sorry that it's been pretty fucking weird."
He can feel the stink town vibes getting even worse and it turns his stomach.
"Why's that somethin' you need to feel the need to apologize for."
Dave's nose scrunches, and he shrugs a shoulder. "I dunno. Cause I invited you, I guess? Sort of my hand that put you in this weird situation. I could have just left you alone."
He feels his bro going as still as a statue, but Dave can't help it. He's tense and tired himself.
"Right," says Bro, standing up.
Dave starts, having been staring at the coffee table like a spacer the whole time, eyes snapping to Bro as he sits up straighter. "Where are you going?" he blurts out.
"Look, I'm vibin' ya. This was a mistake. Saw it comin' to be honest."
Dave blinks. Wow. Okay, shit. That was not what he was going for at all. Technically, thinking about it now, he doesn't actually know what he was going for exactly.
"I… no, what? That's not my vibe."
"Nah. You're a good kid. You wouldn't say shit to my face."
"I'm a good kid?" he repeats on auto, processing, and yeah okay, that makes sense, that it's Dave being a goody two shoes that's what's making this go all prolonged belly-up and dead before even reaching the water. Bro doesn't like him, and now he's gotta prove himself. "I'm not… like a prude or anything. This is the first time I've ever actually done something so suburban-neighborly like this." He flaps a hand at the window to the yard. "Shit, I even killed things, come on. I killed like fifty things."
Bro doesn't relax an inch. "Right. Well, I'll cut to the chase. What did you want to happen here."
Heat rises to Dave's cheeks again, and he frowns, wishes he had his cider to pick at the label.
"I dunno. I just wanted to hang." He hates how defensive he sounds. He scratches at his ear, swallows. It's like cuddlepiles with Karkat. He's got training in this. Spit out the truth time. "You're my only direct family sort of and not from an alt universe, and so that's a big deal. To me."
But Bro only snorts. "We ain't family. Unless you seriously think taking home random street babies for a month or two counts. Which was the biggest mistake I ever made, anyway."
Nevermind, truth time's over. Pack up your bags, we goin' to Alaska 3.0, gonna live as a hermit with some dogs. Dave squints up at him in disbelief.
"Dude. There's some biology DNA shit in there somewhere," says Dave, attacking the easier point. "Didn't John fill you in, or were you not star crossed enough. Gotta unlock star crossed level five?"
Bro just stares. "Since when did DNA mean family."
Dave's voice isn't really steady any more, but he's trying. "Since it meant I had one? Fuck, dude, it seems like everyone else is having a great time with that concept, embracing it and tucking it in to read it bedtime stories."
"Tough. That ain't my style." Bro's voice is bland concrete.
Dave stops, stares back, feeling like he just got slapped. His hands somehow are now gripping the seat cushion. He is so confused. "Okay."
Silence spins out between them. The vibes are fucking rancid.
Slowly, Dave's gaze slips off to the side. If he looks too long, he'll get something in his eye.
"Then. Why'd you come?"
"Thought it'd make you happy," says Bro, and then cuts himself off.
Dave starts to say what the fuck, stops. Lets out a short breathy laugh.
"Okay, shit, now I'm even more confused. Thanks. If that was your goal, fuckin' nailed it, congrats, that's four for you nil for me." "What are you confused about. Seems pretty straightforward to me."
Dave doesn't even want to cry anymore, he's too incredulous. He facepalms. "Oh my god."
"Well, now you know. Curiosity sated. So I'd better go."
Dave drops his hands. "What the fuck? No, you ain't even eaten anything."
Once more, Dave's experience interpreting Dirkesian body language is coming in handy, except it sucks, because Bro absolutely looks like a rabbit ready to bolt out the door.
"You really still want me out there with your friends and shit?"
"I don't care," Dave huffs. "Do you want to be??"
"Didn't come here for them."
Dave goes red again. "Are you gonna sit, ever?"
Bro pauses before sitting down again.
There's another hysterically awkward moment of silence. Then Bro starts to speak.
"Look. I know this is weird. I honestly think it'd be easier not to bother." He's perched on the very edge of the couch, like a coiled spring. "But, you wanted to. I thought for a long time you probably hated me. I dunno. Now I've met you, I realize you probably didn't. I won't lie. I don't get it."
Dave's trying to listen, but he feels frozen like the sheriff in that Scooby Doo meme.
"Only reason you wouldn't is because you don't know any better. Or you're a grade-A moron, either way. You're gonna figure it out at some point. It'd probably be better sooner than later. I'm an asshole. Just how it is. Don't go waitin' on me to change. But, I want…"
There's another silence, this one so brittle Dave feels like if he twitched a finger he'd break something.
"I want you to be happy. That's why I came. And that's why I'll leave if you need me to. There you go. That's how it is."
Hhh. Hhhrgh. Davemachine broke. His throat feels dry and gross, ears hot, and he folds up his arms around his middle.
"Buh. But you didn't even know me. Why do you care?"
He's probably asking too much. That was probably a year's quota of words for the guy he's come to know this afternoon.
(And again, if Bro were the narrator of this story, he'd say he was thinking back to how he had tried for three months. How hard it was. The spikes of dizzy worry that punctuated the constant haze in his brain. How sometimes when Cal was quiet, he'd cramp with sickness looking at that tiny little thing and knowing how he was failing it. Sleepless from the shrill crying. Sleepless when it was quiet, terrified he'd roll over on the bed and crush it. How sour it felt to make it laugh or smile to distract it from their miserable fucking situation.)
"Yeah," Bro says, at last. "I don't know you. You don't know me neither."
Dave shrugs. "I had your picture, though. Sorta, um. Imagined what you were like." He scratches his hair awkwardly.
"Where'd you get my picture?" asks Bro, and Dave almost feels the tension in the air crank down a notch. There's a sliver of genuine interest in his voice.
"Baby me stole it from your wallet." He gives a tiny smile to Bro's knee. "No, I dunno, I've always had it. Was in with my belongings."
"Huh. Kinda wanna see this picture now."
Dave thinks for a second, then stands up, tugs his shirt down.
"Ok, sure, c'mon."
He swings a leg round in the direction of the stairs, leading Bro up, determined and thinking positive, until he realizes what he's doing.
When he opens his damn door to his damn bedroom it's an embarrassing mess, but it's too late now. He just goes to his bed, kneels, drags out a shoebox from under it.
In the box is an old small photo album, and Dave climbs up on the bed with it, kneeling, and tugs the third picture out of its sleeve.
"Here. I'm ninety percent sure this is you. Ignore me being a sappy shit of a baby."
He watches Bro take the photo—faded and old, kinda sun damaged. Looking at the man in front of him now, it hits Dave hard how much the person, the kid, in the photos looks so much more like Dirk did when they met. Only wearing a crappy huge T-shirt and ripped jeans, with very dated hair. He's holding a tiny potato Dave in a fireman carry.
"Wow. Shit. I look barely out of diapers myself."
Dave grins and sits back on his butt, folds up his legs.
"You look pretty sick eighties bro. Fuckin' love the hair."
Bro just sort of hovers there, holding the picture. Then he looks up, and Dave realizes he's probably making some dork ass face. He dials it down out of embarrassment, and shuts the album in his hands.
"Do you want a copy? Remind yourself about the hair, to keep ya humble, or something."
"Yeah. Send me a copy sometime then." There's a pause, and then, "I don't have many of you."
Dave reaches out a hand to take the photo back. "You got photos of me?? Wait, so… we're family again, huh."
"You heard what I said out there, about what I'm like. And you really wanna chance it, huh?" Bro asks, handing the photo back.
"Nah, I just heard the part about you caring about me, so." He chews his lip, slots the photo safely away in its slip. "What's there to chance, dude? I'm not a kid anymore. I'm not asking you to do anything, like, big. It's kinda big? I dunno, just, it doesn't have to be. Even though I want it to be. Because it is to me. But, I mean, there's no throwing pigskins around involved, don't gotta teach me numbers."
(And this is the last time, since it's really not his story, but if Bro were to narrate, he'd admit that this makes his mouth go dry. He's been trying so hard for so many years to shove this down and forget about it and get over it because giving up was the least cool thing he ever did. Letting it get to him was the weakest part of him. It would be easier to crush this now, walk away and finish living out the New Game+ time foisted upon him alone. But he can't, not with Dave looking at him like that. He had better stand his ground and fight, then.)
"Sure," says Bro. "I meant that too. I meant everything I said."
He's just kind of standing there like a sweaty hulk guy and Dave's gonna go ahead and tear up now. Hope that's cool with everyone present. It's not really cool with Dave, but tough cookies. He's still fiddling with the album, looking down at it, and he quickly rubs at an eye under his shades.
"Okay, okay, cool."
"Cool," says Bro, sounding very slightly alarmed.
Dave sniffles. Fuck. Dammit. His voice is shaky but he perseveres. What crying? There's no crying.
"Me u-uh. Me too? About your, hair," he says, definitely not hiccuping at all.
Bro squats down on the floor next to the bed, gingerly like Steve Irwin edging towards a snake.
Dave takes a deep breath. Nope, breath still wants to do the hitch thing. He tosses the album off the side of the bed into the box. It does a sick spin, that's ten points.
"My hair wasn't that bad."
Dave rubs at his cheek and smiles. "I know. That's, I. Still like, liked it." He groans, ugh, the floodgates are messing with his sentences.
There's a knock knock on the doorframe and they both startle.
"Yoohoo," comes a raspy voice. Oh, TZ.
"So I noticed that both of you hadn't even touched any meat, and then you just abandoned the party? Nice try, you don't get to escape that easy."
There's a clink on the floor, like she just put down two plates.
"You've just been served. Smell ya laters."
Dave listens to her clacking her way back down the stairs, smushing down the wave of affection he feels for her, since it's threatening his shaky grip on not unleashing Niagara falls again. He takes a breath.
"So, you ready for beef 3.0?"
Bro nods.