Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The, uh, couple (?) enter the mansion quietly, a bit more sober than either of them would like. They're both tired, more so emotionally than anything else.

Why were baby showers so draining? It wasn't even their baby shower! Mrs. Addi Crane seemed more energized by the end than Jane, but maybe the excitement of motherhood was worth whatever social exhaustion that occurred whenever a shindig of such magnitude took place.

Maybe it was that god awful sangria that made her feel some kind of confidence, or that weird post-your political acquaintance's baby shower envy. She guesses it doesn't really matter.

JANE: Jake, darling, can we talk?

Jake, of course, did not want to talk.

JAKE: Of course!
JAKE: Whats the matter?
JANE: How do you feel about us having kids?
JAKE: Um…
JAKE: Plural?
JANE: Um, yes?
JANE: A child needs a peer to grow up with. Siblings are good for each other! At least that is what I believe.

They both choose to ignore the obvious irony of that statement.

JAKE: I mean... *tugs at the collar a bit*
JAKE: Peers come in many forms!
JAKE: Theres always the chance that roxy or jade could...

Jane doesn't even bother to give Jake the courtesy of hearing the rest of whatever he was prattling on about before she released her legendary deep sigh (which Jake, in his desire to keep producing verbal horseshit, did not pay attention to), tuning him out as she formulated her response.

JANE: Jake?

Uh oh. She's using her special tone of voice. This can't be good.

JAKE: Um
JAKE: Yes?
JANE: Do you…
JANE: Not want to have kids with me?

Keep going. Can't let him get an edge in, now.

JANE: And what about marriage, is that also off-limits? While I understand that our current circumstances aren't exactly…
JANE: Ideal for a courting process.
JANE: I would still like to hope that this is but an odd transition phase that would eventually even out into something concrete.
JANE: Is there no future for us?

Both of their faces crumple. A pair of tipsy kicked puppies.

JAKE: Alright ill give it some thought but lets talk about this tomorrow when were both less jingled.

They, in fact, got more jingled as the night progressed. Coping by substance abuse isn't something to make a habit out of, but that hasn't stopped this cast before.

JANE: Jo.
JANE: Jake. Jake hold on.
JANE: Hold on let me the grab the ah.
JANE: The condobs.
JANE: Hoo hoo hoo!
JANE: The condoms.

She paws her way through the dim room to find the entrance to the connected bathroom.

Jane can't remember why the box wasn't in its usual spot next to the bed. Maybe they were displaced during a cleaning session? Doesn't matter.

Thinking ahead, she rips through the packaging so less steps are involved once she returns to bed. The latex feels weird in her fingers. A pause. She's fixated on the rubber. She remembers that you can't see this portion of the bathroom from the bed. Slowly, Jane lets her nail drag a thin cut through the even thinner protection.

Chapter Text

If that thing was old enough to retain memories, it would have understood just how unloved it was at a much earlier age.

Would things have changed much? Probably not. Just maybe it would've learned to guard its heart quick enough to keep it from breaking entirely.

Who are we kidding? A child seeks out parental acceptance and sometimes even dares to call out for love no matter what gets thrown in its face.

After the funeral of one Dirk Strider, the married couple engage in their favorite coping mechanism. Drinking has certainly become less socially performative and more a lubricant to keep the cogs moving. Can't exactly keep a household together if you're sober!

An hour or so later, they remember that the toddler is still tucked away in its carrier, having not made a peep the entire time.

Earth C's Adam receives his first sacrament. The glass tips over to drip the remnants of whiskey onto him as Jake leans over to release him from the vehicle-themed prison. A gift from Roxy.

JAKE: Oh shit.

Jake fixes the crime scene into an innocent scene and sets off to the bathroom to help rinse off Tavros.

This is the part where a normal parent would simply run the slightly ruined clothing under the sink before throwing it in the wash. However, the brilliant man that Mr. English is, he decides to throw the onesie away. He'll remember to purchase five more to compensate for its loss in the morning.

Chapter Text

ADDI CRANE: And how old are you turning today?

He remembers his mother's insistence for him to try and suppress the stuttering for today.

TAVROS: Five,,,,

Perfect. Mrs. Crane and the rest of today's guests won't suspect a thing if he simply just doesn't talk beyond what's necessary.

It's little Tavros's very special birthday party. Mother has turned it into the extravaganza of the decade, inviting almost every single important person of Earth C and their family.

ADDI CRANE: Oh! My my, how time flies. I remember when you still couldn't even walk, and your father would carry you around everywhere. I can't believe you're all growing up so fast!

Tavros merely nods his head in response, not really knowing what to say. It just feels weird to talk about himself. Also, how would one even respond to this? She isn't leaving much of an opening for him.

ADDI CRANE: Speaking of, Tavros, do you know where your daddy is?

Tavros points her to the bar set-up under the pavilion. The jockey kicks the horse into a full gallop and she's left the stables before Tavros could even blink.

He notes that weird voice she morphed into. It's something reminiscent of what his mother sounds like right before she puts him in bed for the night. His nose crinkles. That voice usually means a stinky breath.

Huh. That's weird. He didn't see Mrs. Crane have any elephant juice, though?

JANE: Tavros, darling, could you come over here?

His mother and a man with a camera are waving at him, matching smiles.

REPORTER: Nice to meet ya, pal! How you feelin' on yer special day?

He knows the routine at this point. Flash a shy smile, share a knowing look with his mother, then turn back to the camera.

JANE: Tavros has been talking our ears off non-stop since we began planning for this. He's been looking forward to this for weeks now!
JANE: I'm just so glad everything is going perfectly. Nothing less for my little pride and joy.

She rubs his back gently while she speaks. The hand is warm and soothing, and it makes up for the soreness in his jaw from all the smiling he’s had to do today.

REPORTER: Okay one more picture n then yer good to go sport!

The promised photograph is delivered, and Jane begins to thank the reporter, but something forces that train of thought out of the room.

JANE: Tavros, sweety, what's that on your pants leg?

He snaps his head down to find a light streak of dirt on his white pants. It went from the middle of his calf to his ankle. How did he not notice until now?

TAVROS: Uh,,,I don't know,,,,,

Jane’s hand goes from his back to the offending stain, as if a quick swipe will get rid of it. Of course not. This is a Rank S stain, she’s gonna need that Tide To-Go stick ASAP.

JANE: This wouldn’t happen to be in those photos now would it?
REPORTER: Yes ma’am but I wouldn’t worry about it! It ain’t that noticeable, and if some Joe does point it out, all it does is add to the charm.

Now, it should be mentioned that Tavros has something of a special gift. He is really good at detecting Mother’s moods. He’s had lots of practice already. Tavros can already see Mother's jaw flexing as if preparing for some grand smackdown.

JANE: Are you sure?
REPORTER: Scout's honor.
JANE: …
JANE: Alright then. Thank you for your time.
REPORTER: My pleasure ma'am.

He leaves Tavros and Jane to their little spot on the bench.

TAVROS: Do,,,you want me to go change?
JANE: It's fine. The party is almost over anyway.

She gets up and brushes herself off, looking over to where Mrs. Crane and Jake were chatting.

JANE: Besides, if you were simply more careful from the start, this wouldn't have been a discussion to have had at all.
TAVROS: Um,,,
TAVROS: Yes mother dearest,,,,,

Chapter Text

Uncle Gamzee has been around far more often as of late than ever before.

He's usually seen attached to Jane, but he's also rather fond of Tavros. He tends to ignore Jake, however. Or, rather, Jake tends to ignore Uncle Gamzee.

Right now the day is winding down, and the Crocker family has settled in for the evening.

Tavros Crocker is a healthy young lad at seven years of age. He could best be described as mature for his age, independent, an old soul, and other euphemisms for children who wish to appeal to the sensibilities of adults who should have never had children.

He's completed his chores for the day. Mother is very adamant that he not grow up and become another spoiled and rotten child who takes their silver spoons for granted.

Tavros should be aware of where he stands in the world and how good he's got things. Mother Dearest makes Tavros clean his room and the bathroom connected to it. Every night after Tavros is tucked in, Mother will make sure everything is where it's supposed to be.

Though it was a bit too early to call it a night, Tavros was feeling exceptionally tired.

He could hear his mother having her own night of fun festivities. The music could be heard with an astounding amount of clarity in spite of the distance between his room and the foyer. Their voices less so, thankfully. Though, there's no doubt in his mind that there was elephant juice involved in setting this scene. He didn't even need to see to believe it.

A memory of what happened last time he tried to interrupt them keeps him from telling them that he's decided on an early retirement. He's an independent boy, remember? He can tuck himself in.

Tavros shimmies down under the covers, letting himself lay there like a starfish. Mother Dearest claims that Tavros tends to move around in his sleep too much. She claims that he needs to be ensured he won’t fall off the bed.

It’s for his sake.

Before his eyelids drop anymore, Tavros takes the harness attached to his bed and softly “clicks” it over his chest. He tightens it enough so that it can do its job properly.

It’s always been for his sake.

He gets comfortable for the night.

Suddenly, he’s long been asleep by the time Jane enters his room with her shoulder angels trailing behind her. They all reek of substance abuse, the only moral value any of them share.

Jake stays by the door’s entry, shifting around like a child doing the potty dance. Uncle Gamzee wonders over to the bed and its occupant, towering over the end close to his feet like something one would see when experiencing sleep paralysis.

Jane wonders over to the bathroom, having deemed her quick look over the room and the closet hallway that connects the bedroom and lavatory sufficient enough. She stops at the sink and stares at herself in the mirror. She’s what most would call a “MILF” or “Mother I’d Love to Fuck.” She looks amazing, wouldn’t even think she was 30 already. However, the booze seems to be making her a bit self-conscious, something she’s struggled with ever since she began puberty. All she sees is the body of someone who had a kid and never quite recovered from it.

She takes her hands off the counter.

JANE: …
JANE: Tavros darling?

In one fluid motion, Uncle Gamzee unbuckles the harness and yanks Tavros half off the bed. Barely awake, the rest of Tavros joins him on the floor.

He practically hits the floor running. Jane meets him at the hallway between the rooms, digging her nails into his arm as he stumbles in an attempt to get his footing while they march to the bathroom.

Tavros never got a stable foot on the ground before Jane shoves him onto the bathroom floor. She swipes a finger across the counter before shoving it in his face.

JANE: What’s on my finger?
TAVROS: Uh,,,nothing,,,,?
JANE: Why are you lying to me?
TAVROS: Huh,,,,,,,,,,,,?
JANE: Did I stutter?
JANE: Tavros, there is dust on my finger.
JANE: Why is there dust on my finger?
JANE: Do you know what that means to have dust on my finger, darling?
TAVROS: I,,uh,,,
JANE: That means you didn’t do your chores. You didn’t do the one job I ask of you.

She reaches for the cabinet under the sink and pulls out a bottle of cleaning powder. It’s some powerful shit, has some bleach in it too.

JANE: You…
JANE: CONTINUE TO DISREGARD EVERYTHING I SAY!!

One Shaq pivot later the bottle is pelted at Tavros, powder creating a nuclear mushroom around him. She’s quick to join him on the floor, even quicker to resume the one-sided smackdown. More powder gets tossed into the air as Jane hits Tavros with the cleaner.

If Tavros wasn’t awake before, he sure as hell was now.

TAVROS: Mother,,,please stop!!
TAVROS: It hurts,,,
TAVROS: Please,,,mother,,,,,

Jake attempts to make his way over but is promptly stopped by Uncle Gamzee, whose purple-blooded strength makes Jake no match for the clown.

JANE: DON’T!

One hearty smack.

JANE: DISRESPECT!

Two hearty smacks.

JANE: ME!!

Third time’s the charm.

The powder settles onto the ground. Both parties are quietly whimpering to themselves. Uncle Gamzee lovingly ushers the increasingly agitated but still drunken mess that we call Jake into the master bedroom, leaving the cleaning buddies by their lonesome.

One would think a tantrum of this magnitude would sober someone up even a little bit.

That is not the case.

Jane rushes to her feet, staggering as she does so. It's fucking uncomfortable to sit in powder like that.

TAVROS: Mother dearest,,,,
JANE: Don't start with me. This place is a mess.

She begins to take her leave, meeting Uncle Gamzee at the entryway between the hallway and bedroom.

JANE: I expect you to have cleaned this up before noon tomorrow.

TAVROS: But,,,,
TAVROS: How,,,?

By this point she's at the door, Uncle Gamzee cooing and honking at her to follow him to presumably the master bedroom. They can't see each other by this point, but Jane's vocal cords didn't disappoint.

JANE: Figure it out!

A door is slammed, a honk or two is heard, and some shouting, maybe.

Oh geez, look at the time. This scene has overstayed its welcome.

Starting to leave a bad taste in the mouth, no?