Well hello there. It's been a while since I put anything up for publishing, and I'm really sorry to those of you who followed some of my other uncompleted stories. Nothing seems to be up for finishing, I'm afraid, at least for now. I should get back around to them this summer. Huge thanks for your patience.
This little doodad was supposed to be a oneshot, but turned into four chapters, with this one taking up roughly half of the storyline. The middle two are just filler, really, but they happened. I'll be posting them once I get a feel for how people are reacting.
This is a non-game AU, as you'll see. It's also the first Homestuck piece I've ever published, but 4-13 seemed like a good time to start.
All credit to Andrew Hussie, of course.
You straighten the last imperfection in your kitchen and sigh, stepping back to survey your work. It's spotless, so spotless that even your father can't do anything more to it. You know he'll be so proud of you.
"Dad, I'm finished in the kitchen," you holler, sweeping your hair behind your ears. "Have you heard from Mr. Strider?"
"Not yet, Jane!" Your father's voice wafts in from the front porch. "Don't worry; they'll be here in good time."
You shake your head and put away your dishcloth. Dirk's brother is a notorious tardy-pants and you both know it. He has a habit of claiming that whatever time he arrives is exactly right, never too late or too early.
You blame Hollywood superstardom. Everyone waits up for a Strider. Including you, it seems. They were supposed to be here an hour ago, and you've been obsessively scampering around the house in wait for the sound of-
The dull rumble of a car rolling to a stop in your driveway. A honk followed by the engine cutting and a dual slamming of car doors. Your heart in your throat, you rush to the door and look out.
It's really him. You can see the shades around your dad and Mr. Strider hugging on the lawn. They move and suddenly he's looking right at you, and you're running as fast as your thirteen-year-old legs can carry you. You almost hesitate before you get all the way there but he lifts his arms and you power through to tackle him in a hug. "Dirk!"
His arms wrap around your back and squeeze like he's trying to make sure you're really there. You know you're doing the same, drinking in his smell, the touch of his shirt, how warm he is and how bony.
"Hiya, Janey," he says, and his drawl rumbles under your ear. Gracious, he's so much taller than you are! You pull back and beam at him, unashamed when your glasses fog over just a bit from you getting misty-eyed.
Your name is Jane Crocker and you're meeting your best friend in person for the very first time. You are allowed to shed a few darn tears!
"Nice to meetcha, li'l Crocker," Dirk's brother interjects. At first you had trouble believing that Dirk's brother was really the Dave Strider, but after he got his webcam all set up and caught his bro at a good time, he sat you down for something of an interview and golly did you believe him after that! It almost embarrasses you really, how cynical you were back then. It turns out that you could have just asked your dad. Apparently, Mr. Strider was a protégé of Poppop's!
"A pleasure, Mr. Strider," you reply with a smile. You take his hand to shake it, but it comes loose and falls into yours!
"Ah!" You toss it to Dirk who passes it back to his brother. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Strider!"
He chuckles. "Calm down. It's a prank. Your granddad got me with that one the first time I met him, bless his old soul." He graces you with a little half smile. "Mr. Strider's my dad, kiddo. Call me Dave." Dave shakes your hand again for good measure, and you realize you've been duped.
"Okay," you say around a giggle fit. "Was that one of your ironic flapdoodles?"
"Actually it was only about a four on the irony scale. The rest was sincere," Dirk informs you. Dave nods his approval. "Bro hates being called Mr. Strider. But what can you do?" He waves his hand dismissively. "Actors, the press, agents- they all do it, all day long."
"Well you're certainly welcome to stay for a while if you wish, Dave," Dad says, only emphasizing the name a little bit. It brings that half smile back though so you're glad he did.
"Nah, I got some stuff to do. We'll catch up later, James." Dave ruffles Dirk's spiked hair with the fake hand. "Be good, little brother. Big Bro'll be back in a little while."
"Old man," you hear Dirk grumble. "And hey, I need the thing in the back."
"Oooh, yeah." Dave raises his shades and smirks at the two of you. "Get ready to be astounded, Crocker Jr. Dirky boy's been working on this doohickey for months-"
"Bro."
"- I'm talkin' all nighters like you never seen, I had to pry him off his workbench with a freakin' crowbar-"
"Dave!"
"-all for his friend, so I'm thinking, man, this girl must really be something else-"
"David Elizabeth Strider," Dirk growls. "Open the gosh darned trunk of your stupid car before I curse in front of Jane's dad."
Dave put his hands up in surrender and held down a button on his car key. The trunk beeped and popped open, and Dirk hurried to grab his backpack and a large box. You're incredibly curious now. "Thanks, Bro."
"Sure thing. Can't have your foul mouth around my favorite Crockers." Dave gives your dad one more clap on the shoulder. "James. I'll be back in a couple hours if you're okay with Dirk staying."
"It's a pleasure." Dad smiles at Dirk in a fatherly way. "Well, if you two would like, I could whip us up a snack. Care to wait upstairs in Jane's room?"
"Sounds great, Mr. Crocker." Dirk waves once to his brother and follows you into the house. You leave your father in the kitchen and head upstairs. You've never been more grateful for the fact thatyou've cleaned up your room. You let Dirk in first and follow, leaving the door cracked just because you know dad would want you to, even if it is just Dirk up here with you.
"If there's anything messy, ignore it," you order.
"Yes, ma'am."Dirk stands in the middle of your room, rotating to see the whole thing. "So this is the real Crocker crib." He sets his bag and box on the floor and joins you to sit on the edge your bed. "It's a lot bigger in 3D."
You blush and laugh awkwardly. Gosh, you can still hardly believe he's actually here. You've talked about meeting up for ages, but now that it's actually happening you don't know how to act. "Well, of course it does. You've only ever seen the wall behind my computer!"
He chuckles again and your pulse thrums against your clasped fingers. Your eyes are still partially on the box that rests on top of his backpack. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"So what is Dave doing up here, anyway?" you ask, unable to curb your curiosity. It must be something big.
He laughs. "Don't get your hopes up. Bro's just looking at some scenery to get ideas for a possible Twilight spoof. Like Vampires Suck, but better and completely ironic."
Dirk picks up your old stuffed bunny from the head of the bed and rolls its velvet ear between his fingers. "You sure do like rabbits. Jesus, how many do you have in here?"
You're about to object, but you realize he's right. You've never noticed before, but out of all of the animals featured in the stuffed toys, decorations, and pictures in your room, rabbits are the most common. You count at least ten within seconds.
"Well, what of it, buster?" you ask, crossing your arms. "Am I not allowed?"
He stares at you from behind his glasses before jumping like someone stuck a pin in him. Darn those shades, you can never tell just where his eyes are. "Shit, Jane, no! I mean..." For once in his life, Dirk Strider doesn't have a comeback. You try not to take satisfaction out of that. "Sorry," he says. He drops the toy and scratches the back of his head. "I'm kind of rambling here. Just." He opens his arms. "Mind if I have another hug, Janey?"
Confused but grateful, you nod and lean into him again. Of course he's a little nervous. You sure are! And hugging like this is very nice after only seeing each other through the computer. You sigh and wonder if you'll ever get to hug Roxy or Jake. California was a big enough stretch, but Jake's on a remote island somewhere and Roxy travels with her mom- there's no telling if this will ever happen again.
Dirk tightens his hold around you and leans in close. "Jane, don't freak out. Get under the bed and stay there," he hisses in your ear.
"What?" You frown and try to pull away but Dirk holds you to his chest unrelentingly. His arms are shaking but his grip is strong, all but crushing you.
"Be quiet. Just do it when I let go."
"Dirk, come on." The Strider irony has gone too far this time, and quite frankly you're frightened. "Stop being silly. What are you talking about?"
"Jesus Christ." Dirk lowers his forehead to your shoulder and your heart just about stops. "Jane Crocker, trust me for two seconds here. Your dad needs you to, alright?"
You nod, trying to calm your breaths as they quicken. Dirk is serious. There's something wrong, something to do with dad. "Okay," you whisper.
"Good!" He springs back from you, bearing a smile that's too wide and obviously fake because you know him. "Just let me get your present out!" He slides off your comforter and you swing your feet to the floor. He turns his back to the door in order to pick up your present. Your breath catches when you hear a creak through the cracked door.
Taking a deep breath, you tuck and roll to the other side of the bed and drop to the floor. You hear muffled curses and your door slams against the wall.
You peer under the bed. There are Dirk's bright sneakers, but there are two other pairs now. Black, dulled with dirt. They circle Dirk and you hear low, quick exchanges before they're whirling around the room. Metal clangs against metal and you cringe, curling in on yourself to make yourself as small as possible.
Dirk's instructions come back to you.Under the bed.
As you're shimmying under the bed frame, one of the pairs of sneakers disappears and the mattress bends at an alarming angle.
"Oof!" It hits you in the back of the head, smashing your face into the hardwood. Your glasses splinter from the impact. You clamp your eyes shut and try to crawl blind, but a large hand closes over your ankle and you scream. "Dirk!"
A thud from across the room. The hand rips away from your foot and you pull it in to join the other. A man's voice yelling and then screaming in pain.
Silence.
A sob builds in your throat but you cram it back down. You aren't going to cry. You're pretty sure you know what just happened, and you've got the mangrit to handle it.
"Jane." Dirk's voice sounds from somewhere in front of you, soft enough that you aren't startled. "You can come out now. It's okay."
You don't move. "I can't see," you whisper. "My glasses..."
"Just crawl through to the other side. I won't move until you're out. Can you do that for me, Janey?"
You're starting to see spots from how tightly your eyes are shut. "Yes," you say. Slowly but surely, you crawl on your belly until Dirk tells you to stop. The next second he's in front of you again, alerting you to his presence before touching your back.
"Sit up," he orders. Fumbling, you push yourself into a sitting position. Not breaking contact, Dirk trails his hand up to your face. "I'm gonna take off your glasses. There shouldn't be any shards, but don't open your eyes yet."
"Okay."
He removes your glasses and brushes his fingers around your eyes, checking for any lingering glass. "Okay. You can open your eyes now."
By the time you do as he says he's several feet away from you, hands on his sword and where you can see them. Of course he has it with him. He always has it with him. You nod at him and he sets his sword on the floor. Everything is a blur, but you can see enough to spot the man on your floor. You know there's another one somewhere behind you and to the side.
"Get an ID on them," you say. You don't know where that cool edge in your voice is coming from. You're frightened out of your skull, but for some reason your body isn't feeling it anymore.
Dirk holds out his hand, one step ahead of you. You take the crumpled business card and squint at it. It's from a local mom and pop bakery.
"Long term employees," Dirk says. He's running a search on his iPhone. "Motive?"
"Desperation," you decide. "They're going out of business soon."
"Yup, that'll do it."
You take another deep breath. "Thank you. I'm sorry you had to do that."
Dirk almost drops his phone. He pushes his shades up and states at you, his honey colored eyes blurring across his face. "Jesus, Jane. I knew this shit happened every once in a while, but this is insane. Don't be thanking me for that. I should have had it finished weeks ago."
You blink. "Had what finished?"
"Your present." He reaches over to the box on the floor beside you. "Remember? I told you that if you ever needed any help, anything at all, that I'd be there?"
"I didn't mean for you to fight off assassins for me!" you exclaim. There's the panic. The fear you're still feeling.
"I know." Dirk lifts the lid on the box, revealing a child sized robot. You jump when you realize that it's in the shape of a rabbit. His chest plate sports a hat like the one on Dirk's t-shirt, but this one is blue. "I know I can't be here all the time- the statistics on me actually being here during an attack are astronomical, you wouldn't even believe it- so I made someone who could. He'll protect you." A flip of some switch or another later and the little guy is active. He looks around the room before focusing on you. "Little buddy, this is Jane. Remember? I told you about her. She needs some TLC." The little guy toddles up to you like he understands. He pats your hand with his tiny paw and you pat his head.
"You'll need to name him," Dirk is saying. You're only half listening. The bunny bot is warm to the touch. It feels like holding a little kid. "He'll respond to nearly a hundred commands already, and he's programmed to learn more. It'll be easier if you call him something other than "defense bot prototype" when you talk to him."
"How about... Li'l Sebastian?" you suggest. The robot's long ears perk up. He emits a soft beep.
"That might just be the greatest name ever said," Dirk agrees. "Now, watch. Li'l Sebastian, ready stance."
The little bot performs an acrobatic pirouette and springs away from you. He stands like a statue, waiting.
"Present arms."
He pulls a katana similar to Dirk's seemingly from nowhere and holds it in both hands. He waits again.
Dirk points to the men on the floor. "Neutralize threat."
Another beep. Li'l Sebastian sheathes his sword, moving instead with a coil of rope. He trusses the would-be assassins expertly and leaves them bound at your feet. He salutes you and waits again.
"Good boy," you tell him. He beeps and all but plops into your lap, offering his head to pet again. "Dirk, I love him! He's fantastic!" You shake your head. "Did you really spend all that time making him for me?"
Dirk almost looks offended, but that can't be right. Striders are never offended. They're too darned deep in their ironic pride and aloofness. It must be your eyes playing tricks on you. "Course I did. I promised I'd help you out of your jams, and Dave'd have my hide if I went around breaking promises to my friends. He's just missing one thing. I was going to let you do the honors later."
A small pair of pointed glasses is pressed into your hands. "They're designed to report any sign of danger. It'll send a message to me, your dad, the police, anything." Dirk pauses before continuing, "And if you're just away from a net connection and wanna talk, he's a direct communication link to my AR and Pesterchum account."
"Nifty." You beckon the rabbit to turn around and face you. "Here you go, Li'l Seb. Try these on." You attach the red specs and they glow. You smile. "Maybe you should try red, Dirk. They're very flattering."
"Jane? Mr. Strider?" A groan comes from your doorway.
"Dad!" You jump up and run to him, fluttering your hands uselessly. How could you forget about your dad? How would those brutes have gotten to you without somehow getting through him? "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"
He shakes his head. "Knocked me in the back of the head with my own rolling pin," he mumbles. "I'm so sorry, Jane."
"Should I phone the authorities, sir?" Dirk asks. He stands and nudges one of the men with his foot. "If we do, I know Dave would ask us to try and keep it as quiet as possible. The press would eat this up."
"Not just for you, either," you groan. "And just when things settled down from the bake sale incident!"
Your dad looks between the two of you and nods slowly. "Alright. Dirk, do what you need to do. I'll phone your brother and tell him to return at his earliest convenience."
"And I'm going to get you an ice pack," you interject. "Come on, Li'l Seb. You can help me."
Li'l Sebastian wraps his tiny hand around your finger and follows you down to the kitchen.
After what seems like hours of police reports, tears, and Dave wigging the heck out, the five of you are finally left alone for the evening. You and Dirk take the couch, with Li'l Seb rotating between your laps, while dad and Dave take chairs by the fireplace. Your dad insists that the Striders stay the night in your home, and none of you object.
"I'm frightened," your dad admits. "It would mean the world to me to have everyone close for a little while."
You aww and coo and generally poke fun at his sentimentality, but your heart's not in it because you feel the same way. Your new little buddy eventually settles down- Dirk calls it "sleep mode"- and curls up in your lap. He's proven to be incredibly helpful already. He mended the crack in your glasses and now they're good as new. You find yourself nodding off as well, only hesitating a second before letting your head fall against Dirk's arm. Despite the chaos of the day, you couldn't wish for a better ending to it.
A brisk knock sounds at the door and you all jump. Li'l Sebastian and the Striders immediately have their weapons drawn and at the ready.
"Boys," your dad snaps. "No swords in the house."
"But dad-"
"No buts, Jane. We have a visitor, and until we are sure that whoever it is means us harm, we will not threaten them."
He gives the others a look, and they reluctantly stow their weapons. Dirk mutters a command to Li'l Seb that has him crouching between you and the door. It seems innocent enough, but you can see the metallic joints quaking with anticipation. The knock comes again, louder and more impatient.
All eyes are on your dad. He pads across the room in his sock feet and opens the door. The line of his shoulders drops in relief. "Constance!"
You let out the breath you were holding and pet Li'l Sebastian. "It's okay," you whisper. "It's just Aunt Constance." Well, she's more like your great-great something or other. She raised your Poppop! But she really doesn't look a day over forty, and it makes you feel weird to call her anything else. But the rabbit doesn't relax. If anything, he tenses up further. Dirk is a statue next to you. "Dirk? What is it?"
He turns to look at you and even through his shades you see the gleam of fury in his eyes. Dave reflects his posture. He makes a visible effort to calm down. "It's nothing, Janey. I just didn't expect to be meeting your aunt so soon."
You pin him with your best "come clean, buster" detective look. There's no way Dirk and Dave would be nervous around celebrities- they're both famous in their own rights. So why are they getting so worked up over the baroness of Betty Crocker Corp?
"James," Aunt Constance says coolly. "The police contacted me about Jane."
"I'm fine, Aunt Constance!" you chirp. "I'm just lucky Dirk was here, or my goose would've been cooked!"
Your aunt doesn't answer you, but turns instead to Dave. "He's yours, then, Strider? How could I expect anything less?"
"Oh, don't worry. We won't be here long. Come on, Dirk."
"Yeah." Dirk shoulders his backpack and hands you a remote control. "Here, Jane. Homing device for Seb." He's barely keeping himself in check. Li'l Sebastian still won't move.
"What's this?" Your dad looks as confused as you feel. "Dave, you know Constance? And I thought the two of you were staying the night..."
Aunt Constance's airy laugh cuts him off. "Oh, James, David is a good old friend of mine. I'm sure something's just come up in the world of the rich and famous. Am I right?"
"Absolutely," Dave growls. His knuckles pop from the strength with which he clenches his fists. "Something urgent about a murder and a witch."
And then you see it. Behind your aunt's confident gaze, you see the same hatred in the Striders' eyes mirrored back with a hundred times more intensity. But it's only there for an instance, and now she's smiling again.
"What a shame," she simpers. "In these troubling times, friends should stick together. You never know when another... Incident could occur."
"Dirk!" Dave barks. "Now." He brushes by Aunt Constance and you swear you hear him mutter, "witch."
Dirk nods, spinning you around to give you one last hug. "I'm sorry, Jane," he whispers. "I can't stay here anymore. It's not safe. Promise you'll keep Seb with you."
"Dirk, what are you-?"
He grips your shoulders. "Promise me!"
"I promise?"
Dirk sighs and draws back to look at you. "I can't really say much right now, but you can relax for tonight. They weren't here for you." He waves goodbye and sprints after his brother. And just like that, your best friend is gone as quickly as he came.
Dread shudders through your body. What does he mean by that? There have been enough attempts on your life to fill up a whole series of mystery novels. Is Dirk saying that this particular fiasco's directive was him? What kind of bakers would try to assassinate the prodigy brother of a Hollywood superstar?
"What a shame they had to leave so soon," Aunt Constance sighs. She finally acknowledges you with a smile. "I'm so glad you're safe, Jane."
She moves to hug you but Li'l Sebastian straightens from his crouch and snaps into a defensive stance. "Ugh," your aunt grimaces. "What is... that?"
You resist the urge to glare at her. Why is she being so mean to Li'l Seb? "He's my friend," you say defensively. "Dirk made him for me." Li'l Seb moves behind you to cling to your leg. You have a feeling he's trying to look as cute and defenseless as possible.
Aunt Constance tenses and backs away from you. "I see." She glares at your father. "I'm disappointed, James. What kind of home are you running?"
"E-Excuse me?" The sudden change in mood has him awash in stern fatherly confusion. "Constance, I'm fully capable of protecting my daughter."
"Obviously." She shakes her head with a pitying look. "James, you really should take me up on my offer."
Your dad draws himself up to all of his five and a half feet in height. "I've given you my answer, and nothing is going to change my mind. Jane is not taking over the company."
"What?!" you blurt out. You haven't talked about inheriting CrockerCorp since you were little. You didn't know Aunt Constance still wanted you to.
"It's her destiny, James!"
"She can choose her own destiny!"
"Then let her choose, instead of hiding her away!" Aunt Constance roars. "She should have come to live with me years ago so I could train her!"
Suddenly their anger is directed at you and you don't know how to breathe. Your dad has never raised his voice like that. Not ever. And now Aunt Constance wants to take you away? How long have they even been fighting about that?
Li'l Sebastian's tiny paw reaches up and touches your hand, reminding that he's there, and by extension, Dirk is too.
We've got your back, he seems to be saying.
You straighten and meet your aunt's eyes. "Aunt Constance, I'm really honored, but I don't think running a business is something I should be thinking about right now. In fact, it causes more trouble than anything. I'm staying here with dad. That's my decision, and I really don't see how you have any say in that in the first place."
Aunt Constance's face turns fuchsia. "Fine. Then let the die fall where it will. Just remember that I gave you a choice." Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she stomps out of your house.
You pick up Li'l Seb. "Dad, I'm going to bed."
"Sweetheart, I-"
"Can we talk about this in the morning?" You squeeze Seb close. "It's been a long day."
"Of course we can." Dad smiles at you as you pass him on the way to the stairs. "And Jane?"
"Yes?"
He smoothes your hair from your forehead. "I'm so proud of you. You're a very strong young woman."
You smile tiredly. "I learned from the best, dad." He nods at you before letting go, and you slowly trudge up the stairs. Your legs feel like lead, and Li'l Seb's weight doesn't help. He jumps down from your arms and pulls you impatiently.
"Alright, alright," you yawn. Goodness, you're all tuckered out. "Let's get you to bed."
You set up a nice little cardboard box with your old baby blankets at the foot of your bed. You tuck him in, and he drops into sleep mode. You change into your pajamas (Dirk assured you several times that there was no chance of Li'l Seb's infrared camera videoing anything private whatsoever) and crawl under your covers.
It's only a few minutes before a hydraulic whoosh sounds above you. You open your bleary eyes to see Li'l Seb's shades glowing red in the darkness.
"What is it?" you ask, rubbing your eyes. He beeps and a message flashes orange at you on his glasses.
TT: Hi, Jane.
You laugh and wave at him. "Hi, Dirk."
The words fade and are almost instantly replaced.
TT: I'm sorry.
"Dirk..." You stop yourself.
The statistics on me actually being here during an attack are astronomical, you wouldn't even believe it.
An attack. On you,at least. But what about an attack on Dirk? His presence seemed pretty likely. In which case, someone was after him, too!
Your voice is small in the darkness as you whisper, "Who's trying to hurt you?"
Li'l Sebastian pats your hand and his glasses flash.
TT: Go to sleep. Seb will patrol.
"You said I didn't need to worry," you grumble.
TT: You don't. That's my job.
You sigh and give Li'l Seb one more pat on the head. "Ok. Goodnight."
TT: Goodnight, Janey.
The rabbit holds your hand until you fall into a restful sleep. You know you'll be safe, if only for tonight.
Feedback would be much appreciated! I'm feeling a little off in my writing, and while this piece helped, I'm still a little unsure. Any criticism or suggestions would make my day!
