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The thing about John’s retcon powers (ret-John powers, giggles Terezi) is that, once John actually gets a handle on them and isn’t jumping all over the timeline every time someone sneaks up on him, they’re kind of stupidly game-breaking. He can just… go and grab shit from wherever, and as long as he doesn’t kick up too much of a fuss while doing it, there’s no consequence. No holes ripped into the timeline, nobody gets doomed. It’s pretty tight.
Terezi says that was sort of the point, though.
The point, you think, is actually that the first thing John uses these powers for (besides reversing a doomed timeline) is bringing a lot of dead people back to life.
Or, well, Jane does the Life-y bit. John just steals the corpses scot-free and dumps them back on the lily pad for her to zap. You get the idea.
Rose and Terezi help. Some kind of Light-Mind fraymotif thing, you don’t know. Terezi does a lot of silly hand movements that aren’t necessary.
The point is that John zaps away and comes back with dead bodies—his dad and Rose’s mom—in his sylladex. He uncaptchalogues them into a vaguely disrespectful heap and Jane does her thing and holy shit, two freshly revived parents for a pair of errant sixteen year olds! If Jane wasn’t already a god tier she’d be rocketing up to the top of her echeladder for this, you know it. God damn, you’re proud of her.
Roxy watches Rose gingerly hug her mom with an unreadable expression.
Next up is Jade’s grandpa, who they kind of have trouble with—apparently Jane-magic doesn’t actually work on taxidermy, so Terezi has to fling John even further back so he can jump in when the gunshot wound was fresh, and even though the surprisingly spry old man is good as new after it’s all said and done, Jade still looks a little melancholy.
Then comes Dave’s bro, who you think Rose actually almost doesn’t let John bring back—from what Dave had told you, you kind of agree—but in the end he does. Jane looks positively green as her magic stitches up the hole in his chest. He looks—fucking shaken is how he looks when he gets up, shadesless and twitchy and clearly still full of that weird post-resurrection adrenaline, and Dave’s expression twists into something you really don’t like as his bro gives him a distracted ruffle of the hair before turning to interrogate Rose’s mom.
Rose and Karkat debate bringing back some adult Alternians, which is enthusiastically endorsed by Vriska and Terezi but quickly vetoed by Kanaya. John realizes he almost forgot to bring back his Nanna, and Jane makes a really weird expression upon seeing her when he does. She gives Jane a nice, grandmotherly hug, though. Jane looks like she appreciates it.
Jake asks John to bring back his grandma, “if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” and when he does Dave jumps about a foot in the air and yells, “Holy shit, Jade?”
Jane’s poppop gets a new life too, now that the taxidermy issue’s been sorted. It’s John’s turn to be a little weirded out, but old man Crocker takes to his younger self pretty fast. He’s got a pretty strong noogie for a man who’d been dead up until a few minutes ago. You think Jane cries.
“Dirk!”
“Roxy?”
She’s jostling at your elbow. You turn your head just a smidge, looking at her out of the corner of your eye—and then you say “fuck it” and look at her straight on like a normal person, because she looks like she’s kind of about to cry.
You open your mouth to ask what’s wrong when she jerks her head over to her left, behind you, and God, she’s smiling so wide despite the tears glittering in her eyes, you wonder what in Hell she could possibly—
“Dirk!”
“Roxy!”
Yeah, there you go, that’s got you spinning on your heel in a very undignified, un-Strider way, but you kind of don’t care about that because you know those voices, from taped talk shows and DVD special features and premiere screenings—holy shit.
Everyone else’s parents had been revived—but you kind of thought John and Jane wouldn’t bother with yours and Roxy’s. You could kiss those kids right now.
See, it’s weird because you’ve met kid Rose and Dave—in fact, they’re still on the far side of the lily pad skirting around their own guardians. These two are similar enough to be surreal but different enough to be obvious—they’re too tall, they hold themselves differently, and they’ve got no god tier duds. They look so normal.
They look like they’ve just been smacked in the face, though. They’re not holding any weapons, and Jane’s magic has cleared the blood from their clothes. They’re just… frozen there.
The bubble pops as Roxy shouts, “Mom?!”
Roxy’s mom’s expression falls out of shock and into surprise—quite a difference, when it comes to alien murder versus daughter confrontation, and wow, dude, you’re looking at your Goddamn freaky famous reverse-clone parents, stop thinking about Fish Hitler! She blinks a few times before tentatively reaching out towards the two of you and answering, in a voice that seems too small for her body, “I think?”
Roxy goes off like a bullet, apparently completely forgetting her power of flight in favor of dashing across the metal platform at top speed and launching herself into her mom’s outstretched arms. Roxy’s mom makes a little punched-out oof noise from the force of the impact, but it dissolves rapidly into relieved laughter that makes her seem younger than she really is. She squeezes her purple eyes shut, runaway tears leaking from the inner corners, and pulls Roxy close.
“Oh, sweetheart.” You can see your best friend’s forehead already marked with black lipstick kiss-prints.
The guy next to Roxy’s mom makes a strangled-sounding noise and, oh yeah, your bro. You just kind of stare at him for a second, not sure what to do—you do kind of want to hug him, but you’re not really built for the kind of gratuitous tacklepouncing that Roxy seems to enjoy employing, and maybe he’s actually too cool for that and will think you’re weird or annoying or, God forbid, embarrassing if you even try—
“Dirk,” your bro says again, shifting where he stands like he doesn’t want to be there—does he not want to be there? “That you?”
Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, that makes sense.
You stow your sword from where you’d reflexively uncaptchalogued it when Roxy had first shaken you. You take a breath, a deep one, and—just, sort of—walk forward, you guess? Or maybe you flashstep, or maybe he flashsteps to meet you, but then it doesn’t actually matter because his arms are around you and he’s crushing you so hard to his chest the edges of your shades are probably going to rip a hole in his blazer.
You don’t care, though. One of his hands twists in the back of your shirt like he’s scared you’re going to disappear and the other combs distractedly through your hair, screwing up your artfully crafted ‘do, but you literally could not possibly care less—you squint out past his elbow to see Roxy’s face, beaming like the sun against her mom’s dress collar. Your chest might burst.
Your brother is talking, you realize, has been talking for a little while, so quiet that you don’t think even Roxy or her mom have noticed. Purposefully listening to his voice is a little bit like what you imagine tuning into the radio would be like—focusing just hard enough for the mess of vague syllables to crystallize into proper sentences.
“—Fuckin’—Jesus Christ, we never—never wanted any of this for you, never wanted you to be all alone like that, never—God, kid, I’m so sorry—“
You squirm a little bit until he loosens his grip on you, drawing back just enough to look you in the eyes without fully releasing you. He doesn’t seem… prepared to do that yet. He shoves his sunglasses into his hair carelessly, making his bangs stick up behind the lenses, and while you knew that logically his eyes would be red you’re still not used to them. His hands settle on your shoulders and his uncovered eyes—his uncovered eyes!—search your face.
“It’s okay, dude,” you say, because it’s the first thing you thought of. Damn it, your brain-to-mouth filter is usually better than this.
Your bro laughs once, disbelieving and kind of wet. His pale eyebrows tilt upwards in the middle, a little dimple appearing between them.
“It really fucking ain’t, little man,” he replies, and you aren’t really sure how to answer that. It quickly becomes irrelevant, though, because he just hugs you again, and you’d kind of have to be an idiot to turn that down.
“You’ve done so well,” Roxy’s mom says. “Both of you.”
“We’re hella proud,” your brother adds, somehow making the flippant words sound just as sincere as they actually are. He runs his fingers through your hair again. You squeeze him a little tighter.
“Fank yg,” Roxy says, muffled. You think she might actually be crying now, but her mom is too, black makeup running down her cheeks, so you figure it’s probably fine.
Roxy’s mom turns to catch your eye, then, and smiles more openly than in any of the pictures you’d had of her.
“Thank you, Dirk,” she says quietly, leaving one hand on Roxy’s back and reaching over to you with the other. You’re so relaxed, you don’t even flinch, you just watch its trajectory. She gently rests it on the crown of your head, just below your hairline—her skin doesn’t radiate heat like your bro’s, but her hand is still soft and warm and you find yourself leaning into her touch.
“For wha’,” you mumble—God, all your defenses are dropping right now, if someone took a swing at you you’d be dead in a second—but, also, if someone took a swing at you right now, your bro and Roxy’s mom would almost definitely kill them to death, so.
“For looking after Roxy,” she answers, moving her hand from your forehead to your cheek. Your shades have gone missing, but you feel too good to worry about that—if your brother’s arms weren’t still around you, you’d probably be a puddle on the surface of the lily pad right about now. God damn, you’d have extracted a few more hugs out of Roxy and Jane during the game if you knew they felt this good. “For keeping her safe when I couldn’t.”
You are literally getting drunk on all the affection getting heaped on you right now, between your bro hugging you like he thinks you’ll up and vanish on him and Roxy’s mom—your aunt?—petting you like a cat. You don’t even care that you’re probably still in perfect sight-view of Jane and Jake, this is rapidly approaching the best you’ve ever felt.
“Yeah, he was a lifesaver,” says Roxy, turning her head so her words are clear, and God you love her so much—she’s your best friend, your best friend. You feel the vibration of your brother’s chest as he laughs.
“Shit, Lalonde, you gonna loosen your vice grip so I can at least give your girl a sweet fist bump, or what? You’re keepin’ her arms kinda occupied, there.”
Roxy actually makes great time detaching herself from her mom and suctioning herself to your brother, sliding next to you like a pro. Her left arm links with yours, and her right wiggles around your bro’s middle.
“That works too.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Strider,” Roxy props her chin against his chest and says, her grin toothy and teasing, totally unintimidated. Your bro laughs again, a very un-camera-worthy snort, like he doesn’t even care what anybody here thinks of him—and God, he probably doesn’t, at least not at the moment. Getting brought back from the dead will really mellow a guy out, you guess.
“Even in another universe, your legions of adoring fans persist,” Roxy’s mom remarks amusedly. You catch your bro rolling his eyes at her—he still hasn’t put his shades back on yet.
“They’re just jumping at the chance to prostrate before me.”
“Nobody’s prostrating,” you mutter into his tie. Roxy’s mom actually laughs at that, and around Roxy’s shoulder you see her cross her arms and cock an eyebrow.
“Can you prostrate while standing?”
“Kinda defeats the purpose,” your bro says. Roxy’s mom holds up her hands in the universal gesture for “okay, you win”.
“Mom,” Roxy says, gleefully feigning that particular teenage tone of voice. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Roxy’s mom blinks for a second, nonplussed, before raising a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. “Well, forgive me. I wasn’t aware I’d ever have the chance. I suppose I’m making up for lost time.”
They’re such dorks! For some reason you’d always thought of Roxy’s mom as unflappable, but here she is with smudged makeup and runs in her tights, cracking jokes outside the entrance to a new universe.
“For real, though. I’m—We’re proud of you guys,” your brother says, softening his voice just for you and Roxy. “You did so good. I’m so sorry it had to be fucked up like this.”
“We love you very much,” Roxy’s mom says, leaning on your bro’s shoulder and tucking a loose strand of hair behind one of Roxy’s ears. “Even before we knew you, we loved you. You meant the world to us.”
“Really?” Roxy asks, small.
“Yes,” says her mom, desperately, like she’d do anything for her daughter to believe her, cupping Roxy’s cheek with her hand. “Roxy, we—knowing we could never reach you, knowing we could only do so much—it was the worst torture I’d ever felt.”
“Keeping you kids safe was the goal,” your bro adds. “Tough to do that from four centuries away, y’know?”
“But,” Roxy’s mom continues, “we never, never stopped loving you, or wanting to be there for you. It was… cruel, that we couldn’t have been.”
Roxy sniffs warningly, and you think your own eyes might be getting a little leaky. You take her hand. Christ, you’re tossing off all your chains right now.
You’ve found your shades—they’d made their way up into your hair, behind your silly little pink tiara. You don’t move to put them back on properly. At least, not until your bro puts his back on, and you don’t see that happening anytime soon.
“You’ve done so well,” Roxy’s mom finishes. “Both of you. You’ve been so good. We’re so proud of you.”
Roxy bursts into fresh tears, and you can’t stop the mildly pathetic noise that leaves your own throat. Your bro kind of panics for a second—you think that he thinks he’s hurt you somehow—but Roxy’s mom plucks you both out of his arms and into hers. She hugs differently, a little smaller and not as tight, but it’s just as nice.
You hope she doesn’t mind the fact that you’re kind of getting your gross crying-face on her dress, though. Your fears are mostly assuaged when she kisses your temple and tells you she loves you again. Jesus fuck, you don’t deserve this.
John shouts that he and Karkat are opening the door. Roxy makes… some kind of assenting noise, you’re not really listening.
It’s over, you think, your relief, for once, drowning your trepidation. Roxy’s mom still holds you tight. Your brother’s hand rests on your shoulder like he doesn’t want to let you go for even an instant. Somewhere far away and behind you, you can feel the flash of light from the door opening, can hear Jane and Jake and everyone else yelling with excitement. Roxy squeezes your hand. Everyone’s together.
We won.