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“Dave should have never been in the same house as our father,” Rose says, taking a drink of the water in her hand. “If it had to be either of us, it should have been me.”
Dirk’s face contorts, his eyes crinkle, and he frowns. “What makes you say that? He wouldn’t have treated you any better.”
“Maybe not. But the difference between Dave and I is that Dave isn’t a fighter. Not naturally, at least.” Rose swirls her drink, watching it trace the rim of the glass. “He was forced to fight. I don’t need to be prompted. I’m not a killer, but I’m not afraid to strife."
Dirk sighs into his palm, shaking his head. “I disagree.”
Rose shrugs, “And you’re free to do so.”
Asphalt burns hot against Rose’s back. A foot against her stomach coaxes a cough out. Even with her shades, Rose Strider has difficulty looking up at her Bro with the heat pounding against her skin. A sword is at her throat. She remains unflinching.
The tip drags lightly against her throat. She resists the urge to bite her lip. Instead, she winces and grinds her teeth behind closed lips, stifling the scream that wants to pry into the Texas air.
When he pulls the sword away, Bro removes his foot as well. He leaves Rose to wither in the sun. She doesn’t move for a while but eventually gathers the strength to pull her phone from her pocket.
A friend of hers had texted her. Rose opens the messages, skimming them while shielding her eyes from the blistering sun. She texts back an inconsequential message, not giving away much about her situation.
She knows it isn’t normal. No one needs to know. The last thing Rose wants in her life is a domestic dispute and Bro being taken to court for child abuse. She’ll get out eventually.
“I mean no offense to Dave when I say it, by the way,” Rose adds, taking another drink.
“I’m sure you don’t. But don’t you think you would rather be with your mom than Dave’s bro?” Dirk’s head leans against a fist. His face reads concerned, but Rose brushes it off.
“Ideally, Dave and I would both be with our mother. But if one of us had to be with our father, I would prefer it to be me.” Rose meets Dirk’s eyes. “I’m sure you would feel the same way.”
Dirk sighs, “Sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good thought process.”
The first time Rose sees Dave in person is while she’s asleep. She stands next to him, awake after dying. Her brother– no, her father is dead. She doesn’t have to worry about him anymore, but Dave looks like him, even if only slightly.
Dave seems so happy. Of course, he’s happy. He has a loving mother, a massive house, and all the freedom in the world. Or. Had.
Rose mentally chides herself. Don’t think about how it could have been. Focus on how it is; otherwise, you’ll lose track of your goals. Dave takes Rose’s hand, and she jumps. He laughs, his eyes crinkling as he smiles. She wonders what it would have been like if she had lived with their mother.
Rose tells Dave about her plans. He doesn’t like that, but she doesn’t care. It’s for his own good, and she has nothing else to do. She will die a martyr, and her friends will finish the game for her. Before she realizes it, she’s standing on a platform in front of the Green Sun, her innocent twin at her side. He’s smiling. How could he be smiling at a time like this?
She smiles back just before the timer hits zero.
“Rose, no one is built for what Dave went through. Not as a child.” Dirk’s frown has been deepening for the entire conversation. Something gnaws at Rose’s gut. She feels guilty for upsetting him, but she’s just telling her truth.
“Of course not, but some people are born fighters, and others are born lovers.” Rose sighs, “That is a common divide in people. I’m a fighter; Dave is a lover. He would have loved our mother and her wizards even though her addiction brought her down.”
Dirk shook his head, leaning back. “You know your mother loved you.”
“She did. I was unable to love her back in the same way. I admire her brilliance, but I have always hated her addiction.” Rose stands from her seat, walking to the sink for another glass of water. “My relationship with my mother is messy, Dirk. There is no simple answer.”
Dirk sighs. “I just wish you wouldn’t force these scenarios. They aren’t realistic. You would be no better off with your father than Dave was.”
Rose just smiles at Dirk.
The first time Rose talks about Bro is when Dave confronts her. He corners her in her room on the meteor and prods her enough to force her to spill.
She ends up as a puddle on the floor, face buried in her tunic and pulling at her hair. Dave is at her side, holding her in a tight hug. She can’t help but ramble about the fights with Bro and the fear. Even just being in a room with him would put her on edge.
She clings to her knees, repressing tears and trying to steady shallow breaths. Dave just rubs her back. It’s a gentle comfort she never had. On the off chance Bro would mend her wounds, he was harsh. He treated her like an exhausting chore.
Rose wasn’t sad when she found his corpse. She was shocked. If he wasn’t able to make it, then she was fucked. She remembers pulling the sword out of his chest and immediately dropping it. The blood on the blade dripping onto his shirt made her gag.
Rose doesn’t remember anything about Bro’s websites, nor the Smuppets. She remembers them being all over the place. She knows Bro used them against her; she knows he used her. She doesn’t remember it. It wasn’t frequent. Rose stops talking.
When she looks at Dave’s face, his eyes are red and puffy, his face is stained with tears, and his lip quivers. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if Bro took him instead. She holds him under her arm, letting his burry his face in her shoulder.
Rose is glad Bro took her and not Dave.