Chapter Text
“Look, dude, I know it’s lame, but you’re just going to have to deal. I can’t miss another interview with this woman or she’ll have my dick to use as a purse strap. And who knows, maybe you’ll meet some ‘lil tyke that’s cool enough to hang with you, ‘kay? Just give it a shot,” your older brother says flatly from the driver’s seat. You just nod with a small pout.
Of course he’d say that, he isn’t the one being forced into this. You don’t even want to be awake right now, it’s like…Well, you aren’t fully educated on how to tell the time, but you’re working on that. Point is, it’s still dark outside and that means it’s too early for Bro to be dragging you to some stupid daycare. You’ve never been there and you have no friends really unless you count Bro, but he’s being mean so he is not on the friends list as of right now.
Aforementioned ‘not-friend’ sighs as he pulls the truck into the parking lot of the daycare and starts to get out, not bothering with the seat belt that he hadn’t put on to begin with.
“You ready kiddo?” He asks, and you know better to say no, no matter how badly you want to. Instead you sigh and hop out, then slam the truck’s door as hard as you can, which turns out to be not that hard at all. Bro walks around and you almost reach to hold his hand as you both head into the brightly painted building. Almost.
The woman at the desk looks up with a wide grin and bright—whoa, are her eyes pink? Huh. You follow Bro to the desk as he starts talking to her about what to do with you, but you aren’t really paying attention. You’re much too busy with looking past the desk into a larger room that seems to be filled with all sorts of kids. Most of them look to be a lot younger than you, and all the noise they’re making is already getting on your nerves.
You watch them all for a few minutes, squinting at them unhappily until Bro reaches down to ruffle your hair and you grunt.
“Try not to kill anybody, would ya? I’d hate to have to fill out any paperwork tonight.” He smirks and before you can even respond he’s gone. Great. The lady from the desk leans down and taps your head so lightly that you almost don’t notice until she starts talking.
“Alrighty little one, I’m Miss Roxy or Rox or whatever you feel like really. You got any questions about this place before we get this party started?” Her voice is smooth but peppy and you decide that you like her enough. You shake your head and keep your pokerface in place as she stands up and motions toward the other room. “Okay then, go have some fun you cutie!”
Hmm. Well, you do look a lot like Bro, but you’re not cute. No, you are sexy as hell. Of course. What else would a five year old be besides sexy as hell? Nothing, that’s what. You shove your hands in the pockets of your red hoodie and try to step as casually into the room as you can. As you previously thought, the general age seems to be much younger than you, with an occasional older child popping into your line of sight as you swept your gaze throughout the room. A few toddlers glance up at you and decide that you’re nothing special as they go back to playing with the random assortments of dolls, toy cars, and puzzles with missing pieces. Fine by you, they’re probably losers anyways.
With a pitiful huff you shuffle towards one of the nap-time mats that are laid out. Of course you’re not going to take a nap, that’s so lame and stupid and naps are for lame and stupid babies. Which you are not. Like, at all. You’re just going to lie down for a while and think, duh.
-
You open your eyes with an involuntary whine as someone seems to be touching your head in what seems to be similar to a petting motion. You can’t help but jerk upright and hug your knees to your chest in defense, and that’s when you come eye to eye with your aggressor.
The first thing you notice is his glasses, which are way too big on his round face. Behind those god-awful chunks of glass are the bluest eyes you think you’ve ever seen in your life, and that’s saying something to your oh so vast five years of people-watching. His black hair is all over the place and it makes it look like this kid just fell out of an airlock, but it suits him you suppose. After another quick once-over of your attacker you decide he can’t be much younger than you.
“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he giggles and you can see that he has a huge pair of buckteeth that jut out just slightly. Dweeb. “Um, I’m John. Your hair is soft, can I keep playing with it?”
What the hell is this bastard playing at? You try to glare at him but remember that your pointy shades block your eyes from view, and instead give him a haughty pout. “ ‘Name’s Dave, and uh, no.”
“Aw, why not?” He pouts right back at you, and you frown.
“Because I said so. No one gets to touch a Strider’s hair, period. It’s a rule,” You’re probably being really rude, but he started this whole thing by messing with you in the first place. You look down at your hands awkwardly so you don’t have to keep looking at his dumb face. You hear him huff and see him stand in your peripheral vision, and before you can do anything he’s standing behind you.
“Hey, what are yo- Hey! I said no!” You frown and reach up to swat at his hands which are tangled in your hair once again. He just laughs and keeps them firmly planted there, and you sigh indignantly as your hands fall back into your lap. This is insane. You need a lawyer and your fucking katana, this kid has some nerve if he thinks he can just waltz in here and- -what is he doing.
Suddenly he’s giggling and you reach up slowly to find that part of your hair is a lot chunkier that you remember. It’s almost as if he…
“Wow, I thought it’d be too short to braid but maybe not!” He snorts and steps around to flop down onto his stomach next to you. You just look at him halfway in shock as you take down the braid. This kid is either really brave or really stupid to be bothering you. Probably both.
However, it has been more entertaining to fight with him than it has to lay there moping around, so you’ll give him a chance to redeem himself. “Okay, John, if you’re going to chill with me, you’re going to have to learn the rules. Number one, I’m the baddest bitch in this joint. Number two, I’m in charge.” You smirk at him as he frowns, but he seems to be considering your offer.
“You said a bad word,” he mumbles in awe,”but I think you’re okay. Let’s go do something; there are some toys over there!”
You nod and your smirk widens as you stand to follow him as he was already dashing towards the corner of puzzles and board games.
-
You and John talk a lot about each other while you play almost every board game the place owns. He tells you all about how his favorite color is actually green but that he gets mad when people think it’s blue, and that he loves Gushers but hates the very Betty Crocker name and every one of the products that are christened by her label. You don’t have the heart to tell him where Gushers come from. He speaks animatedly about his dad and his half-sister, and he asks you what being ‘adopted’ means since he had heard his dad call him that once before. You don’t tell him that either.
You do, however, tell him about how you live with your brother and how he taught you how to wield a sword. That leads to you describing your brother’s weird obsession with puppets and Lil Cal, and you involuntarily shudder. John just laughs at you and you flip the whole checker board at him out of spite.
It seems like the hours zip by until Miss Roxy returns to tell John that his dad had come to pick him up. He smiles a bit sadly at you and stands, and for some reason you find yourself standing too. Miss Roxy heads back toward the front room and John’s smile starts to get a bit more genuine.
“You should come meet my dad Dave! He’s really nice, I just know you’ll like him, come on!” He grabs your wrist with a delighted squeal to pull you after him to the front desk, and you’re not about to refuse. He runs up to a tall man in a white suit who actually looks way too similar to John, considering John being adopted apparently. He has a black tie and a white hat that you think starts with an ‘f’, but you aren’t sure.
John is still holding your wrist while you look up at the man and, even though he seems friendly with the way he smiles down at you, you can’t help but feel a little intimidated. He squats a bit to get to your height and holds his hand out for what was probably a handshake.
“Hello there, I am Mr. Egbert, John’s father. What is your name?” His voice is a lot more smooth and gentle than you’d expected, and you’re grateful for that as you give him a nervous high five instead of shaking his hand.
“I’m Dave, and did you know that your son is adopted?” You almost stutter, but you do not because you are too shocked at your own words to remember to be nervous. Mr. Egbert, however, is even more stunned as John looks onward in oblivious silence. The older Egbert clears his throat quietly and looks as if he’s about to speak, but to your relief the door opens behind him and he turns just in time to see your brother striding toward you.
“Dave, did you get in trouble or something? I told you to behave damn it,” he mumbles until he sees John holding your wrist, and then he looks at Mr. Egbert. “Hi there, I hope Dave isn’t causing any trouble here.”
“Oh-- No, of course not!” Mr. Egbert stands and smiles as he starts to explain the situation to Bro, and you look over to find John giggling up at Bro.
“Why does he have the same dumb shades as you?” He whispers and you blush a little. Except no you don’t, only losers blush, and you are a fucking winner, that’s right. Regardless, you do pull your wrist out of John’s hold and cross your arms.
“They aren’t dumb, you’re dumb,” you huff back at him like the mature child you are. He reaches for your arm again and you frown but let him take it, but this time he holds your hand tightly and you blush even brighter.
“You’re the dumbest of the dumbs, Dave,” he smiles and looks up at his dad before kissing your cheek, and it’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever felt. It’s wet and gross feeling and you don’t even know how to respond so you wipe it off with your sleeve. You hear him gasp in what seems to be shock, but it’s so dramatic that you aren’t sure if he’s faking it or not.
“Dave, how could you?!” He’s still trying to whisper but his whiny voice comes through and breaks it. “That was a sign of how much I like you dummy!”
“What, getting your slobber all over my cheek? Thanks but no thanks,” you reply shortly.
“Well then why don’t you kiss me instead so that I don’t do that?” He says and, well, that does seem a bit more reasonable. You lean close enough to kiss his cheek and he lets out a shrill giggle. You’re interrupted by an angry call of “-Dave!” coming from somewhere above you, and you whip your head up to look. Something bumps the sharp corner of your shades and you’re confused until a pained gasp forces you to look at John. He’s now sporting a cut on his cheekbone and it was already beading up with droplets of blood.
Suddenly he’s being yanked away from you and swung up into his dad’s arms as the older man tries to inspect the cut. John hadn’t even reacted much more beyond the initial gasp but your brother crouches down to glare at you.
“What the hell was that?” He asks you, and his voice is hard like every other time when you had done something wrong. You don’t know what to say so you just shrug half-heartedly. He sighs agitatedly and stands back up as he starts to speak to Mr. Egbert. “Hey, I’m really sorry about Dave, he’s a bit too out-going sometimes and I do—“
“Actually it’s quite alright Mr. Strider. I’ve raised John to be quite accepting and he too is rather affectionate. His cheek seems to be okay, he’ll just need a bandage when I get him home-” Mr. Egbert smiles down at you gently and you can’t help but smile back for the first time in your life. John twists to look at you too and he grins wide, but winces as that disturbs the cut. “-so I do really need to get him back. It was wonderful meeting you Dave, and you Mr. Strider.”
“Pleasure’s mine Egbert. Maybe the kiddos can hang out together every now and then,” Bro says nonchalantly but you see him flash a small smile that makes a little color fill Mr. Egbert’s cheeks. The flustered elder nods and turns toward the door to walk out, and John waves at you happily over his father’s shoulder. You sneak a glance at Bro before giving your new friend a huge, toothy grin.
They are out of sight in shorter time than you had hoped, but you’re distracted from watching their car as Bro picks you up from behind and swings you up onto his shoulders. You latch onto his hair as he heads toward your truck and he chuckles at you. “It’s good that you were able to make a friend. You cut his face, but I guess I did only tell you not to kill anybody, so you’re in the clear kiddo.”
You smirk and yank his hair, which makes him scoff as he puts you in the back seat. Maybe you’ll have more fun here than you thought.