Chapter Text
When the 2013 Honda Odyssey pulls up to the Close house, Grant doesn’t notice. He’s been so, very incredibly busy.
Doing what, you may ask?
Playing FUCKING FORTNITE, that’s what he’s doing!
First, a drop at Tilted Towers. His dad makes a comment about it not being a great place to drop, but Grant’s good at the game, so he’s fine. It’s a good place to drop, so lots of people go there, but it’s only an issue if you’re absolute dog water at the game.
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Meanwhile, Nick Close is with his dad, one hand in his pocket, and the other holding an epic blunt.
Glenn takes a hit, and coughs, saying, “that’s some strong shit. Where’d you get this?”
Nick’s lungs burn, but his heart swells.
“I got it from you, Dad!”
Grant’s dad, as it turns out, is an absolute narc, so he and Glenn stash it in the mailbox for later. Nick’s got smokes on him to take the edge off before the game later, when Grant’s dad isn’t there.
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When the car pulls up to the Oak-Garcia household, Lark and Sparrow are outside, performing what their father would call an ‘energy cleansing ritual’.
So, punching the tree over and over again, honing their ninja skills.
“--if we could be a little more respectful of the tree , is my only concern–”
“POWER!”
Things end with two rowdy boys punching their father in the gut, running head-first into the side of the van, and strangling one another with their seatbelts in the back.
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Terry Jr. waits outside of his house, dressed in a wrinkled, purple hoodie, bag slung over his back. The air smells like smoke and burnt oats.
“Where’s your dad, son?”
“He’s not coming, it’s just me, hurry up–”
But Terry’s bluff doesn’t hold up when Ron Stampler runs out of the door, nearly tripping over the absurd number of pants he has on.
Fucking Ron Stampler.
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Five kids and four dads sit in the 2013 Honda Odyssey, carpooling to their next big soccer game. Nick’s feet are kicked up, and he and his dad relax in the back, while Lark and Sparrow nearly snap one another’s fingers in a thumb war. Grant’s still playing Fortnite–because of course he is, what else is a kid to do these days–and Terry Jr. is trying his very hardest to forget that his step-dad exists.
Five kids, four dads.
Just a regular, every day drive to a soccer game.
Until an oozing, bright purple portal opens, swallowing the entire car whol e.
And every kid is hit with the same realization at once;
They have not been good sons.
And when the purple fades away, leaving everyone with a splitting headache and bad vertigo?
Five sons, no dads, and a 2013 Honda Odyssey.