Archive of Our Own

Jo hadn’t had many opportunities to explain her backstory. People usually seemed too unsettled to ask. And that was probably for the best. Mystery suited her. Besides, the truth was mostly sad and boring.

She’d lived with her mother in a nowhere town until she was nine. Then her mother died, and Jo's grandmother took care of her until she aged out. See? Nothing worth telling.

If you were going to write a backstory for someone, you’d at least try to give them a reason for act the way they do. But Jo had arrived in L.A. like a ghost. No warning, no history, no explanation.

It wasn’t a problem, since no one had ever asked.

But there was a reason.

During those few years when Jo's possession of a consciousness overlapped with her mom still being alive, she asked the tired old question about the other half of her parentage. Even at five, Jo felt a little embarrassed asking it. What did it matter, really? Her mother was fierce, and Jo wouldn’t have been surprised if she could’ve gotten pregnant by sheer willpower alone.

“Your dad was a friend of Mommy’s,” her mother said.

“Where is he? Doesn’t he love me?”

“No, honey. He doesn’t even know you exist.”

“Why?”

“Well…” Her mother paused, choosing her words. “I really, really wanted you just for myself. But we can visit him when you’re older.”

“I want you just for myself too,” Jo said, smiling.

And that was that.

She had told him the name, years later. There wasn’t a single written document in the house that could link her to him, but her mother had never lied in her whole life, had you asked Jo about it.

And she did perform a DNA test on David whenever she got access to a biological sample, just to be sure he was the right David Brittlesbee.

Because he was nothing like Jo had expected.

She hadn’t meant to create an image in his head, but it’s hard to think of your father as just a big blank, expectationless canvas. If she were to imagine him, she’d guess her dad was all the things that differentiated Jo's mom from Jo. That would have to be someone strong, and ambitious, and a little bit insane too.

Not that she thought about him all that much. She supposed she could’ve found a way to track him down and force him to take care of Jo.

But she was fine on her own, really.

Grandma’s house was quieter than her mom’s.

Jo went from living in a prefabricated house near the beach to a big stone house with long hallways that always felt excessive for just two people. She decided she liked it. The place had a kind of dark vibe she couldn’t help but enjoy. Grandma didn’t talk much but she had a lot of rules. She made Jo go to a strange school run by nuns and wear long, dark dresses, but Jo got used to it.

Grandma liked her. She never seemed uncomfortable with Jo around, and that was more than Jo could say for most people.

“That child is a demon,” Jo once overheard one of her grandmother’s friends say during one of those grown-up tea parties. (If she wasn’t supposed to be listening, then why did that room have the perfect old nook for Jo to hide in, hmm?) "She tried to set my mailbox on fire!"

"Oh, come on, Maggie, don't be so dramatic. It's just children's stuff," Grandma said.

"I don't know how you deal with her all alone, poor you… Honestly, you're a saint if you manage to get any reign on her."

Grandma sipped her tea. "She can do as she pleases. I'm not making the same mistakes again."

"You did nothing wrong with Lizzy. She was always… you know. But this kid might still have a chance. Think of her future."

Grandma just shook her head, unbothered and unmoved.

And just like that, Maggie was never invited to Grandma’s special parties again.

“You’re a good girl, Josephine,” was all she said as she brushed her hair even if it had a little threatening note behind. “Just like your mother, but even better.”

And Jo liked hearing that, too.

So it was fine. Just the two of them. Jo would’ve felt guilty looking for her dad, knowing she might have to leave Grandma alone in that big old house.

Then Jo grew old enough to take care of herself, and then Grandma died too. Jo kept going.

But that question, that bothersome, persistent weight, never quite left her. She couldn’t shake it off. And if there was one thing both her mother and her grandmother had coincided on teaching her, it was, when you have a problem, you face it.

So she googled her father’s name for the first time.

She found out the videogame company he worked at. It was on his Facebook. She set a five minute timer to allow herself look at his photo. He looked… different from what she’d expected. Softer, maybe. Middle-aged. Weird, definitely, but more weird-cringe than weird-psychopath.

There was a difficult feeling inside Jo that stopped her from digging further online. No. She’d meet him in person. She wanted to make her own assumptions.

So she booked a flight to L.A.

Nobody in Arizona would miss her.

It wasn’t hard to get the job. Contrary to everyone who had said that she was more trouble than she was worth, Jo had a set of values imprinted in her with force. Be polite, dress well, and above all, be relentlessly competitive at everything.

By twenty-two, her resume was already impressive.

“Is that your office?” she asked.

“Ah—heh, no, that’s Ian’s,” David said, a little flustered. “The most powerful person doesn’t always have the biggest office.”

Jo looked at her father.

That first impression from the photo was only growing stronger. Jo realized with consternation that the man before her eyes, finally in the flesh, was lame. Pathetic. Indecisive.

At one point, he called a coworker mom.

Jo had been more mature and more determined at age seven than David was at forty-four.

She struggled to keep her expression neutral. She was a successful, determined woman that showed up here out of curiosity and nothing more. She shouldn’t let it get to her. So what if this pathetic man didn’t live up to her expectations?

She was angry at herself, too. This was the first time in her life she let a man disappoint her, and that alone made her feel deeply ashamed. She should’ve known better than to expect anything from a stranger.

Ian does meet the expectations. He even exceeds them.

He’s strong, confident. He imposes his will on everyone around him without even seeming to try. If Jo had to pick someone in the office she’d want to be related to, it would be him. Her grandma would’ve called him a good young man.

She looked at David, standing beside him.

“Well. I—I like Pac-Man,” he offered.

And in that exact moment, Jo knows: she’s not going to be able to tell him.
She just can’t.

It’s too embarrassing.

"I like her," Ian said, and Jo felt a jolt of pride. At least she got some positive reinforcement out of this terrible trip.

Actually, she might as well try to take something from it. She focused on the office. Never give anything less than your best, she told herself, like a mantra. So she went on, eyes open and studious. Figuring out how she could please to the best of her ability.

It was incredible.

There was something about the chaos of the environment that enchanted her.
The fighting. The power structure of it all. The craziness. It pulled her in and made Jo feel like she belonged here more than she'd belonged anywhere else.

And Ian was cool, so she stayed.

She could pretend the whole David diatribe had never happened.

"You consider Ian a father figure?" she asked C.W. a couple of weeks later. "’Cause so do I." And she said it right in front of David, just to see how he’d react.

He only frowned at the comment, looking slightly perturbed, the way Jo had grown used be looked at by David. He seemed not even a little threatened by Jo's affirmation.

No. She had clearly made the right decision.

She made a conscious effort to push the information that linked her to David to the back of her mind. Hopefully, someday, she’d forget it entirely if she just spent enough time not thinking about it. And then no one on Earth would know.

Because David was pathetic. He really was. Jo eventually realized that her first impression of him had actually been generous, almost flattering compared to how he kept digging himself deeper and deeper into the pit. It was like he was pathologically incapable of feeling embarrassment.

Like that time she had to drive him to the office in the middle of the night, and he’d been drunk and miserable, hair a mess, clothes wrinkled.

Instead of letting the silence save him some grace, David chose to rant, eyes locked on the distance but completely unfocused.

“They make me go in the middle of the night… but why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do. It’s not like they’re taking anything away from me, anyway. I might just go live at the office like CW. That’d probably be less depressing than my house.” He rubbed his eyes with one hand. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this. I think—the wine is not mixing well with the movement of the—”

“David, stop being a baby. You’re making me want to crash the car.”

They had to stop at a gas station because he looked like he might actually throw up in her car, and Jo hadn’t brought any sharp object to murder him with in a painful enough way if he did.

She looked at the sorry excuse of a man sitting on the bench in the middle of the night, holding a shitty cold coffee in a flimsy plastic cup.

She didn’t hate him. And she certainly didn’t feel sorry for him. Ideally, Jo decided, she should feel indifferent about David. He was… an annoyance in her otherwise perfect, bulletproof self-esteem, like an invisible splinter under her fingernail, just bothersome enough that she couldn’t forget. That she couldn’t stop herself from observing . From comparing.

He gave her cookies.

She couldn’t stop herself from noticing, even behind her wall of indifference, how she found him amusing when he was drunk enough, how she liked seeing him get his small wins. How she could, reluctantly, admit that she wanted him to do well, to be happy.

That feeling was new, too. She had never wished success on anyone but herself. Jo examined it carefully, with just the right amount of distrust.

A comfortable pity.

Predators are never too bothered by animals outside their food chain.

Jo had never thought of herself as a caring person, nothing could be further from reality, but there was just something about David that made her want to be, just a little. He responded so well to compliments and manipulation it was almost a waste not to take advantage of him.

She wondered if that was what her mom had felt when she slept with him. Jo had done the math; her mom had been a few years older than David. Maybe she’d seen that complete lack of threat, that walking disaster of a man, and thought: Why not.

Jo just… would’ve appreciated it if her mom had considered the sheer embarrassment that decision might bring her daughter in the future. Sometimes, she thought she might set herself on fire if someone ever found out.

But still, she couldn’t help watching from a safe distance.

David didn’t even have to be like Ian for Jo to stop feeling like she might suffer brain damage every time she tried to wrap her head around the idea that he was her dad.

She would’ve been more than happy with someone like Brad.

Brad actually had a lot in common with Jo.

Where Ian fit the ideal version of what Jo thought a father should be, Brad slipped into what felt like the most plausible one. And Jo liked him, for starters.

Things got even better when Brad took her under his tutelage. She had a lot to learn before becoming the ultimate, perfect assistant; Jo knew she could be stupid sometimes but at least she didn’t let her mistakes in plain sight like David did.

It would do her good to spend less time around David anyway.

Brad taught her the important things: How to hide weakness, how to manipulate, how to get everything she could possibly want. And most importantly, Brad taught Jo how dangerous he could be. He made it very clear she should never ever trust him.

So imagine her surprise when Brad got out of jail and ignored her completely.

Instead, he stuck to David like shit to the sole of a shoe.

Jo was used to people acting funny when she was in the room, to having everyone discreetly watching her out of the corner of their eye like she was an accident waiting to happen. One of her teachers had once asked her to sit a few rows farther back because Jo’s “over enthusiasm” kept distracting her from the lesson.

But she wasn’t used to being ignored.

So really, Brad and David had practically forced her to install microphones in the office. They couldn’t just hire an assistant and then exclude her from her very important quest of knowing absolutely everything that went on in the company.

She was categorizing some files with her headphones on when she heard it.

"What's up, soyboy? Want to stop by my place when we're done?" That was Brad’s voice, more cheerful than she’d ever heard him. Jo did her best not to gag. Honestly, some people could really put in the effort to act their age. Especially if that age was over forty.

She heard a clattering noise. Probably David throwing whatever he had in his hands. Happened to him at least once a week.

This time, she couldn’t really blame him, she was surprised too. She paused what she was doing, her fingers freezing over the keyboard, and listened more closely.

"Uh. A—yes! I mean—yeah, I’d like to," David managed.

"Cool," Brad answered.

There was something going on. Brad was the only person in the office whose address and personal info Jo hadn’t been able to dig up; everything had mysteriously disappeared from the system. He wasn’t kidding about leaving no trail. So why would he invite David, of all people, into his house?

Was he planning to murder him?

"Though this time we could stop by some takeout place on the way. Your expensive wine is really good, but maybe I won’t embarrass myself so much if I actually eat something with it."

"I don’t know about that. I get a lot of enrichment from seeing you wasted."

"What you get is a lot of videos. What do you even do with those?"

"Personal use."

Weird. Weird. Weird. Jo stood up from her desk and crossed the dark, empty office until she was in front of David’s door.

Whatever scheme Brad was pulling, it was clearly an elaborate one, Jo could very well be David’s last chance of making it out of this alive.

"You could just call me if you miss me, you know?" David said after a beat.

Brad scoffed. "You think I don’t see your face enough on a daily basis? No, David. You must understand one just can't have too much blackmail material."

"Should I start gathering some of my own?"

"I wouldn’t try that," Brad replied, but instead of sounding threatening it was… almost playful.

Jo narrowed her eyes with suspicion. Was Brad… trying to seduce David? It wasn’t Jo’s style. There were more elegant ways to get what you wanted, no matter how vulnerable David was to any form of romantic attention.

"Nobody would believe me anyway," David muttered, and then the conversation ended, followed by a sound that was almost like…

Okay. That was her cue. She stepped into the office, making sure to be as noisy as humanly possible.

Brad and David instantly flew to opposite sides of the room. Brad’s face was perfectly collected, giving nothing away. David's face would have been more discreet if he wore a tattoo across his forehead that said "I was just snogging my coworker."

"Jo!" he screeched. "What do you want?"

"I—" Think quick, she told herself frantically. "I need David to come with me to… um, the basement. I left my folder down there and it's scary."

David frowned. "You're scared of the basement? You?"

"At night, yes. Sue freaks me out. I think she's going a little mental from never seeing the sunlight and all that."

Brad rested his hip against the desk, completely relaxed. "David was going home already, actually," he smiled. "I'm sure that can wait until tomorrow."

"No, it can’t. I have extremely delicate information in there."

David looked a little perturbed. "Hey, I don’t want to get in trouble. Maybe… it’s better if you go by yourself?"

Jo tensed. There had to be a way to make David stay. If Brad took him home, he might very well be dead by tomorrow.

She paused.

And for the first time, seriously considered why she cared this much whether David lived or not.

She was fairly certain something had changed the night they met on the rooftop. Because David had been about to kill himself then.

As hard as she tried not to consider him her father, Jo's insides twisted the moment she realized it. He was the only one left. If David died, that would be it. She would be left with no living relatives. And Jo recoiled at that idea for some reason.

She didn’t want to be left alone.

Not again.

So maybe she couldn’t really be blamed if, during those six months where it had just been the two of them left, she’d made the effort to keep a closer eye on David. Just in case he showed signs of climbing up onto another roof. Forgive her for not wanting all that work to go to waste just because Brad had apparently decided David was his next victim.

"Jo?" David said.

"You can't go, okay?!" she snapped, jolted out of her thoughts. "I need your help."

David frowned, clearly cementing his idea that something was wrong with her. He crossed his arms. "Jo, I want to go home. We’ll fix whatever you want tomorrow."

"You're making a terrible mistake."

He rolled his eyes, still unaware of the gravity of the situation."I'm sure I'll manage," he said, then went off to pick up his stuff, on his way to go home and get killed.

Brad eyed her with curiosity. "You up to something, Jo?"

"I don't know," she said. This was her last resort. "But if I were you... I’d tread carefully."

Brad raised his eyebrows. "Always."

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw David walk into the office the next day. He wasn’t dead yet.

But something bad was going to happen if Jo didn’t act quickly.

She weighed her options. What do you even do when your secret dad starts dating your psychopathic role model? She decided she’d go for David. Out of the two of them, he was clearly the most easily influenced.

She just had to find a way to turn him against Brad.

Every good scheme starts off with planting the seed of doubt.

“I heard Brad’s messing with the stock market again,” she dropped casually when they were alone.

David barely looked up from his computer. “Yeah? I thought he was back into that from the minute he got out of jail.”

“Oh, well, I guess he was just being cautious.”

“Makes sense.”

“Maybe you should be careful too. Don’t let him get too comfortable watching the company’s ups and downs… getting close to someone high up to keep the news fresh,” she said pointedly.

David showed no sign he caught the hint.

“Someone like… from production,” she added, then kept looking at him as he buried himself in his boring Excel sheet. And looking. And looking.

“Did you want something, Jo?”

She sighed dramatically.

Trying subtle cues with David was like whispering through a stone wall.

She’d need something more forceful to make an impression.

The next day, she dropped a sheet of paper in front of David. “Brad’s doing insider trading again,” she said. “I hacked his computer and found this.”

“What—”

“Now, you’d think it’s a good idea to call the police. But David, you have to be careful how this affects the company’s image,” she added with a worried tone.

David took the paper, looking bewildered. His mouth twisted into a frown as he ran a hand through his mustache. “I… can’t believe it.”

“I know… but the real damage isn’t done yet. He’s just the janitor, after all. If you make sure he doesn’t talk to anyone on the executive team, he can’t hurt us.”

David didn’t seem to hear her, too deep in his consternation. “I’m such a fool,” he muttered.

For a moment, Jo felt bad. But this was a small mercy compared to what Brad could’ve done if David let his guard down around him. It was for the best.

“If I knew you’d be that subtle, I wouldn’t have bothered worrying about it,” Brad said. Then he grabbed Jo by the arm and dragged them both into the supply room.

Jo knew she could overpower him easily, but Brad had far less merciful ways to make people comply, and she didn’t want to find out what those were.

“What are you playing at?” He said, his voice low and warning. Jo straightened her back, her whole body instinctively going into defense mode. Brad’s voice was cold as steel.

“You have to leave him alone,” Was all she dared to say.

Brad frowned. “I hadn’t noticed you cared this much about what David does.”

“I don’t care about David,” Jo assured him.

Brad looked at her intently for a few seconds. Then he took a breath, arming himself with patience. “Jo, you know I like you. But my hand won’t tremble if I have to report you for homophobic behavior.”

Jo gasped. “It’s not about that! You know I’m friends with lesbians!”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t want you to murder David, okay?” she admitted, and she couldn't help her cheeks from reddening a little. God, why was so difficult to say that?

She didn’t meet Brad’s eyes. Even overwhelmed by embarrassment, she realized that admitting she knew his intentions was a stupid move. Now he’d probably want to get rid of her too, just to avoid any suspicion.

A heavy silence stretched between them.

“Jo,” Brad called softly. “I’m not going to murder David.”

Well, as far as crime denials go, that one was pretty lazy.

“I’m dating him.”

Very lazy.

Jo gave him her best disbelieving face. “What, now you’re going to try and make me believe you’re in love with him?”

“Uh—”

She met his eyes. Interesting.

Brad actually looked uncomfortable. Like he was about to choke on his own words and short-circuit from the sheer emotional overload.

“Ah—can we just leave it at I don’t have any ulterior motives? I’m really not going to kill David.”

“I don’t believe you. There’s no way you’d like David. I mean, he’s so… pathetic. And—”

“Embarrassing.”

“Yeah! And he’s an emotional disaster, and he has—”

“Zero self-respect. Jo, I fucking know, okay? You don’t have to rub it in my face.”

“My point is, nobody likes David!”

Brad had recovered enough to shoot back, sharp and fast. “Then why are you so worried I’m going to assassinate him? Do you care?”

Jo let out a frustrated noise. She was not about to admit she was worried about him. Not in a million lifetimes.

“No.”

“You seemed interested enough to spy on us.”

“That was because—because you’ve been doing this weird thing with each other and you weren’t hanging around with me anymore!”

“Ohhhhh!” Brad exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I get it now. You were jealous.”

“What?? No! Don’t be gross!”

“Afraid I’m taking your toy now that I’m back?”

“Brad!!”

“I mean, he’s a little old for you, but hey—I won’t tell anyone about your little crush on David. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Jo felt like she might explode. Or throw up. Of all the stupid assumptions Brad could’ve made, he had to land on that one.

She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“That would be gross because he’s my dad!” she blurted out.

This time, she managed to leave Brad completely speechless. It was a shame she couldn’t take the opportunity to throw it back at him; because she had rendered herself speechless too.

Oh no.

She looked at Brad, fully panicked, her heart hammering in her chest. Brad looked back at her, his face shifting through an entire spectrum of emotions as he tried to process the information.

"I—" she started, once she'd recovered a little from the shock. Maybe there was still time to take it back, to laugh it off as a huge, mortifying misunderstanding. But Brad cut her off before she could think of a proper escape.

"What " he said. The tone was off, it didn’t sound like a question at all "have you just said."

Jo lost all her will to react in that instant. "That he's my dad," she muttered, as if saying it quietly enough might make it less true.

Brad closed his eyes. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here, maybe even more than Jo did. Then, without a word, he turned and located the pile of folding chairs they kept for events.

He walked to the back of the room, picked up two, unfolded them, and gestured for Jo to sit.

She did.

They sat in silence for a few long, horrible minutes.

Brad was the first to speak. "Who else knows?"

“David doesn’t know,” Jo said. “It’s… just you, really.”

There was even more consternation in Brad's face now. “Why not?”

Jo took a deep breath. She hoped the silence had bought her brain gears enough time to start working again. She gathered her thoughts. “Well, I never really met him. And I was curious. So I came here.”

“Correct,” Brad replied when she paused, encouraging her to continue.

“And then I met him.”

“And?”

“And he was… David.”

“Ah.” The sound was heavy in Brad’s mouth. He wasn’t exactly what you’d call a natural empath, but it seemed like he got it after being walked through Jo's experience.

"But I really liked this," Jo continued, feeling the weight lift a little. "The company, and the city. And the job, too. So I decided to stay."

"I… think I understand," Brad said after a beat. Then there was silence again.

Jo was feeling good, actually. After taking it off her chest, she could admit there was something liberating about finally telling someone, after all these years. Now it wasn't just an almost surreal fact buried at the bottom of her brain. It was out there.

She breathed like it was the first time she’d filled her lungs in a long time.

“Jo,” Brad started again. The conversation was moving like a wagon stuck in the mud, stumbling forcefully through the topics, but Jo appreciated the effort.

“Hmm?” she answered.

“You have to tell David, not me.”

Jo clenched her teeth. She had just admitted that it was the first time she’d ever told anyone, and that was an accident. Telling David was a whole different, enormous step she wasn’t ready to face at all.

“I’d rather not do that,” she said.

“But, it’s not right,” Brad said. “All he’s ever wanted is to have a family. You would make him so happy.”

Jo cringed. “I don’t think having me as family would be very fun for him.” She wanted to get up and escape Brad’s look right now. She twisted in her seat, conflicted.

“Hey, do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Good. I taught you that.” He paused, weighing his words carefully. “I’m not going to go to David with this if you don’t want him to know,” He stated, and Jo felt an incredible relief wash over her. “But take it from someone who knows both of you, and likes both of you— I really think you should tell him.”

He was incredibly serious. It made her uncomfortable.

Jo thought about it for a moment. She wasn’t immune to Brad’s words; there was a part of her that wanted David to have that, too.

To get what he wanted most, to stop trying to jump off the roof because he thought he had nobody in the world, when that wasn't true.

But—

“But what if he doesn’t like me?” she said, hating one hundred percent of the way it made her sound like a little kid.

Brad listened, then suddenly looked like he’d had a revelation. His mouth opened slightly, eyes wide. “Oh my god. I see the resemblance now,” he muttered under his breath.

There it was. Jo felt her eyes prickling a bit. “I’m lame, too?” she asked.

Brad snapped out of it. “What? Uh- No. Look, if he doesn’t like you, then he’s a fool. And the Jo I know wouldn’t let that dent her confidence.”

Jo smiled. “Thanks.”

“If he doesn’t want you, I’ll keep you.”

Now she laughed openly. “I’m twenty-five, you know. I can actually take care of myself.”

Brad raised an eyebrow. “I always thought kids were more fun once they’re old enough to scheme with you, anyway.”

“You’re cool, Brad.”

“I know.”

“So… would you help me scheme a way to tell him?”

Brad smiled. “Of course.”

Jo rang the doorbell. She had spent more time than usual checking her appearance in the mirror earlier, but she still couldn’t shake the sense of inadequacy clinging to her psyche.

Ever since that conversation with Brad, she’d been imagining how this would go. The puddle of nerves sitting in her stomach was unfamiliar; she’d been about to call and cancel at least three times today. Only her persistent determination never to regret her decisions had kept her from staying home.

The door opened, and then David was there, looking surprised and a little annoyed.

“Jo? Why are you here?” he asked, like he was bracing for terrible news.

Before she could think of an answer, Brad peeked around the door too, settling a hand on David’s shoulder. “I invited her,” he said.

David turned around to look at him, a frown forming on his face. “You… invited Jo to our dinner date?”

“Yeah.”

They looked at each other. Silent communication passed between them. Jo might have tried to decipher it if she weren’t already using most of her brainpower to manage her many parentage-related anxieties.

She decided to take refuge in formality, at least for now. “Thank you for having me,” she said, letting the script of a polite guest take the reins. “Here’s the courtesy thing.”

Then she handed David the pink paper bag she’d been carrying, full of cookies.

"Uh, o-okay, Jo. Thanks, I guess," David said, trying to mask his suspicion.

Jo swept past them, waltzing into the house. It was old and ugly in an appealing kind of way. It reminded her a little of Grandma's house. "What are you cooking? It smells great!"

David was still recovering from the unexpected turn of events. "Uhh… just some seafood soup I wanted to try making- "

"Great!" she exclaimed. "I'll help you set the table."

"You don't really have to—oh, well. Okay." He gave up when Jo went directly for the dishes.

She hoped David would stop wondering what was going on soon. After ten years working at Mythic Quest, he was finally getting good at just going with the flow of whatever situation he was thrown into.

Twenty minutes later, the three of them were sitting around David's small dining table. His lips were pressed into a tense line that didn’t quite count as a polite smile. Brad, meanwhile, was having the time of his life.

It’s like a real family, an insidious little voice whispered inside Jo’s head. She bit her lip, trying not to give anything away.

David cleared his throat. He didn’t want to be the one to start the conversation, but he also couldn’t stand sitting in silence. Jo rolled her eyes.

"David," she started. "How have you been?"

Normally, she was adamantly against beating around the bush, but if she just dropped the bomb, David might choke on a piece of garlic bread and die. So she submitted to the terrible ordeal of making small talk.

At least David looked as seriously pained by it as she was. "Uh—um. Good! Thank you."

"I wanted to apologize," she said, because if she didn’t add some substance to the conversation, she was going to explode. "For accusing Brad of inside trading. It was a terrible mistake."

"I really don’t see how you can falsify incriminating proofs by mistake," David replied.

"No hard feelings," Brad said, waving a hand. "David needs to stop falling for that shit anyway. The training’s good for him."

David frowned into his soup. Then he looked between them. “What is going on?”

Jo folded her hands in her lap. “I wanted to ask you something. Are you familiar with the name Elizabeth Inconnu?”

David perked up at that. He looked confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. “Uh, yeah. I—she was a friend from college. Graduated way before I did and we lost touch. Why?”

“She’s my mom,” Jo said, and her hands tensed.

David blinked, clearly surprised. “Really? Oh, that’s awesome! You do look a little like her, now that you mention it. How is she?”

“Not relevant,” Jo answered quickly, unwilling to deviate from the topic at hand. She’d learned that mentioning her mom’s death only earned her unrequited pity; it made her feel icky.

David was watching her now with a kind of guarded curiosity that made Jo want to crawl under the table.

She took a deep breath. This was getting way too difficult. She needed to rip the bandage off all at once.

“I considered you might want to know that you and I… share a bloodline.”

Dead silence.

“Wha -t?”

“I’m not repeating myself, David. You heard me the first time.”

David just kept staring at her, dumbfounded, eyes wide as plates. “As in…?”

“As in you were the one who left my mom pregnant, yes!” she snapped. Then cursed internally. She had promised herself nothing that happened today would get to her nerves.

David let out a strangled, high-pitched noise in response. Then, “Are you sure?”

That earned Brad’s first intervention.“David,” he said in his usual warning tone.

David ran a hand through his hair. “Right. No, right. Sorry. It’s—ah—”

He looked around, as if he didn’t remember which room he was in or what they’d been talking about. He seemed to be searching every corner of the room, everywhere except Jo.

“There— is a— I need a minute, yeah— I…” He got up from his chair and left the room.

Jo was left staring at Brad. That went as well as she expected.

Brad scrunched closer over the table with an encouraging expression. “Don’t worry, he’ll come back.”

He did. Jo didn’t think he’d been out of the room for more than thirty seconds, and when he came back into view, he seemed even more nervous than before.

He looked at Jo like she was the most incomprehensible entity he’d ever encountered, and gestured at her, accusatory. “But you have been my —this whole time!”

Jo stared back, deadpan. “Are you stupid?"

"Jo," Brad said.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Why didn’t you say something before?!" David exploded. "I met you four years ago! I—"

Something to know about David’s tirades is that he's unable to retain anger for too long. It dissipates as quickly as ether if you just let him steam for a bit.

"—I would have liked to know! And—oh my god, I’m about to start going through every conversation we’ve had, and you knew this the whole time—"

Just a little more yapping and he’d deflate like a balloon.

"And—and. Ah." He looked at Jo. "Why are you telling me now? What changed?"

"I convinced her that it would be beneficial for the both of you to bond. Since you’re both obviously desperate for connection," Brad prompted.

David knitted his eyebrows. "You knew?"

"Only for a week or so."

David looked between the two of them, apparently having run out of things to say. Or more likely, having gone so overloaded with them that his mind had gone blank. "Incredible," he said with a note of sarcasm, and then plummeted back into his chair.

Jo saw how Brad ran a hand along David’s arm in a soothing motion. David scooted imperceptibly toward his touch, like a plant leaning toward sunlight. Jo observed the exchange with a mix of fascination and vague discomfort.

Maybe Brad was telling the truth about not wanting to kill David after all.

A few seconds later, David’s eyes seemed to refocus on his immediate surroundings, and his breathing finally calmed down.

“You ended up at Mythic Quest by coincidence?” he finally asked, much calmer now.

“No,” Jo answered. “I came here on purpose to meet you.”

David grimaced. “Oh god.”

“You’re okay,” she admitted, blushing a little. For the first time that evening, she wished Brad wasn’t in the room. Almost.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked. “Was I that upsetting?”

“A little,” she admitted. “We’re not alike at all. I guess I didn’t know if we’d get along.”

David regarded her silently this time, pausing for a moment to take everything in.

Jo kept talking, though this time her voice came out much quieter.

“I don’t know. Parents usually like their children because they’re like them. But I know I’m weird. I guess I didn’t want to burden you with all that.” Fuck, this was excruciatingly embarrassing.

David looked like he was on the verge of tears. He gulped before speaking. “Hey, Jo, that doesn’t matter. You don’t have to be perfect for people to like you, or—anything really. I—I know I'm a little emotional right now, but I need you to know I’ll be happy to have you in my life… or—or not! Whatever you want, really.”

More silence followed. Jo weighed whether she should let David’s words spark something unfamiliar inside her. She wanted to protest, to keep him from thinking she was some kind of affection-starved freak, but the right words just wouldn’t come out.

“I just wish I had known earlier,” David continued. “Have you been… happy? In your life?”

Jo cleared her throat. “Yes. More than you, apparently—”

David chuckled sadly.

“I wasn’t… in need of a father or anything. I was just curious,” she stated. “But I think you do need someone. And it really freaked me out when we met on the rooftop.”

David looked guilty at that. Brad glanced between them with clear curiosity, but said nothing.

“That wasn’t my best moment, I have to admit,” David said.

Jo just nodded.

It was awkward and incredibly difficult at first, but they managed to steer the conversation forward until it gradually settled into something more comfortable and relaxed. Brad certainly helped with his occasional arbitration.

Jo told David about her mom and her grandma. David listened attentively and took Brad’s hand whenever the emotion became too much for him. At some point, he excused himself again and retreated to the bathroom. His eyes were a little red when he returned, but no one commented on it.

They still weren’t sure how they were going to navigate all of this, but Jo felt more hopeful by the second. She didn’t know what she had been so scared of — at the end of the day, it was just David. They already knew each other.

An hour later, she found herself unable to stop smiling.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad I told you. I think I wanted to do it a long time ago and didn’t know how.”

David looked dangerously close to crying again. He took a significant pause before speaking. “I understand if you don’t want to, but maybe… I mean — if you ever feel like it — no pressure — you could… call me dad?”

He looked terribly ashamed and hopeful.

“Sure,” Jo said, unbothered. “Okay, Dad.”

David blinked. “That was fast.”

Jo turned to look at Brad. “What do I call you?”

Brad snorted. “Boss.”

Jo pouted and looked at him with pleading eyes. “But I always wanted to have an evil stepfather.”

“I guess that works too.”