Work Text:
You jolt to alertness at the sound of your baby brother screaming his little lungs out. You bolt to his room, sword drawn, a million thoughts racing through your head of what monstrosity could possibly have hurt him.
But he instantly stops yelling at the sight of you and holds up a book with the most innocent look on his baby face. The adrenaline pulsing through you fizzles out, and you slump against the doorway, returning your sword to where it came from.
“Goddammit, Dirk.”
At some point the little shit had figured out that screaming summons Bro, and fuck you if you haven’t fallen for it every damn time.
“One day you’re going to be in actual danger, you know that! Do this enough and I might not even show up! Boy who cried wolf all up in this bitch.”
The baby just stares at you, still holding the book.
“Right.” You run a hand over your face. “You don’t get the whole language thing yet. I’m talking to myself. What else is new.”
You walk over and plop down next to him. Dirk gurgles and pushes the book into your lap before attempting to crawl up himself. You sigh and right the pair, maneuvering Dirk so he’s sitting with his back settled against your front and moving the book in front of the pair of you.
“Why the fuck do you want me to read anyway. You can’t understand what I’m saying. You like the sound of my voice? Is that it? You don’t need a book for that, dude. I can talk up a storm all by myself. Ask anyone.”
Dirk pats the book with his little baby hands and grunts, tilting his head back to look at you upside down.
“Alright, alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Dirk squeals with excitement as you pick up the book.
“Horses. Of course. You know there are other animals, right?”
Dirk plops one of his hands on the big brown horse on the cover. “Ar.”
“That better not end up being your first word. I swear to god.”
“Ar!”
“Ugh, fine.”
You open the book and start some long winded commentary on the various horses pictured on the page. There are words written there but Dirk can’t understand them so why not make this interesting for yourself.
Dirk pats your hand when he wants you to turn the page. It makes you wonder if he knows you’re not actually reading it.
“Ba!” Dirk exclaims, pointing at a particular horse with enthusiasm.
“Yeah that’s Ba.” You’ve ‘read’ this book a few times and the majestic white stallion on the eighth page seems to be Dirk’s favorite. He’d started calling it “Ba” a while back so you guess that’s its name now. Though, to be honest, he calls a lot of things “Ba” so he might be going for something else.
You usually spend most of your time in the horse book on this page, so you’ve made up a few stories about Ba, short for Bro Bama, the cool king and rad protector of horse land. Sometimes they make less sense than Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff but Dirk seems to like them.
You’re in the middle of a tangent about the food Bro Bama likes vs what he can eat because he’s a horse when Dirk paps your hand four times, the number of pages left in the book, which you’ve learned means he’s done.
You set the book aside obediently and Dirk wiggles around until this face is pressed against your chest, tiny hands clutching at your shirt.
“Tired lil man?”
“Ba.”
“Ba, okay, right. Your favorite not word. One day I’m going to figure out what you’re trying to say, dude, mark my words.” You scoop him up and get to your feet. “Beddie bye time now though. I was halfway to snoozeland when you cried wolf, you know that? Being a bad Bro and forgetting to tuck you in before I conked out.”
You attempt to put him in his bed but he squeals in distress when you try and pry him from your shirt.
“Dude! Shit! Dirk, it’s okay. I got you. You’re okay!”
He’s not a loud crier, you’d barely know it’s happening at all if you didn’t know the signs. You’re still not sure what to do when this happens but you bounce him up and down and murmur assurances like Rose suggested and it seems to help.
“Hey man, what’s this about, huh? You hungry? Got some prime carrot mush with your name on it.”
Dirk sniffs wetly and tries to burrow his face further into your chest as his little hands grip as tight as they can.
Oh. You know what this is about. Your voice goes soft.
“Hey. I’m not leaving you, okay? You’re not alone anymore. I got you.” He’d been doing so good with the separating thing. Maybe it’d been too much. You hold him that much tighter. “You’re not going to be alone ever again, I promise.”
Dirk whines something unintelligible and rubs his face against your shirt.
“You wanna sleep with Bro tonight?” You were supposed to get him to sleep in his own bed as much as possible but you think this qualifies as special circumstances. “Can’t promise it’ll be too entertaining. Might have some rad dreams though.”
Dirk sniffs again and makes a noise that sounds enough like an agreement for you to take it as one.
“Alright, but you better not drool on me. I got enough of your snot on my shirt as it is.” You carry him out of his room and he seems to relax a bit when he realizes you’re not putting him down.
Rose says he sees you as something of a savior. He was in a shitty place and you saved him, so you think that’s fair. He’s scared that if you leave, you’ll never come back and he’ll be back where he was. You’ve been gradually getting him used to not being around you 24/7, baby steps, but there’s only so much he can take. You must have been dozing in the living room for longer than you thought.
You walk the two of you to your room, which happens to be right next to Dirk’s. You used to have a one bedroom in Huston, you technically still do, but that just wouldn’t fly for baby care. Plus the kid seemed to be freaked out by all the similarities to the bad place™ he came from. He used to find the weirdest places to hide from a threat that wasn’t there.
You squeeze him tight at the thought.
“I’m sorry I was late. Some Knight of Time I turned out to be.”
Dirk, of course, doesn’t understand you. You sigh.
“Rose says it’s not my fault. I’m not a player, even if I do have a leftover title. It’s a miracle we were able to get you two back here. It’s a miracle I could time travel at all.” You try to set him down on your bed so you can change into something less stiff but his death grip hasn’t let up in the slightest. You resign yourself to sleeping in your work clothes.
“I still wish I could have gotten there sooner.” It’s a bit awkward trying to lay down with a kid in your arms but you manage. “Could of plucked you straight out of the ocean. No need to deal with any batterwitch drones or shit post apocalyptic apartments.”
You try not to think about it often, but he’d been absolutely terrified when you got there. You’d found him holed up in one of the kitchen cabinets, clinging onto a creepy puppet and a shitty sword. He tried to hit you with it but it was all too easy to disarm him. Unfortunately, that freaked him the fuck out. It’d taken you a long time to get him to understand you weren’t going to hurt him, even longer to understand other people weren’t either.
“Shit is literal by the way. There was shit everywhere. Did you use it as paint?” You try to joke but it doesn’t come out as genuine. Dirk’s breathing more evenly now, he’s stopped crying. You press your lips against the top of his head. “But you’re here now and that’s what matters.”