The time travel thing had sucked.

It had been bad enough finally beating back the game. Winning the right to live on Earth had been just about the hardest thing you had ever done, and you had hoped it would be the hardest thing you would ever have to do.

Of course you were wrong.

The four of you had stepped through that door together, but you, Dave Strider, had woken up alone in a familiar unfamiliar place.

You had thought that you would track them down somehow.

You still would, one day. You just found out that first, you would have to wait for them to be born.

So perhaps you hadn't exactly pictured living out your life starting from the early nineties, but you got you'd ever paid close enough attention to history you could have done well out of that, but you pretty much knew just enough to keep your head down, buy some cool shades, find yourself an apartment and make some kind of name for yourself as a DJ.

Then everything went to shit.

Your favourite record store got destroyed by a meteor. Your first thought had been something along the lines of "fuck no, not now, it's too early."

You wish now things had been that simple.

There was some moment where it all came together, somewhere in that haze between seeing the wreckage, remembering those novelty shades in your pocket, double checking the date and actually finding the kid you knew by then was waiting for you.

Dave Strider Junior, hot off the meteor.

Baby you.

That was the moment when you realised that your Bro had a brilliant reason for all the shit he had ever put you through – even the smuppets – and that reason was because destiny is a fucking bitch.

In that first year, you lost count of the number of times you wondered if the smuppets alone were worth dooming a timeline to avoid.

Sometimes you wondered what precisely had happened to Bro – not your Bro, you now realised, because Time makes its Heroes work for a living and holy fuck is raising a kid harder than you thought – but the eighth kid John had ecto slime babied into existence back in The Veil.

What had happened to him? Had you somehow taken his place, dooming this timeline? Or had this always been how things had gone, and had he lived a normal life somewhere else, dodging the bullet that was Sburb?

Sometimes you wondered if he hadn't been involved in the game, somehow. Sburb wasn't the type to let people off easily, not when destiny and appearifying was involved.

But how would you know? The meteor he rode in on could have landed at any time, in any place. Everything you thought you knew about Bro turned out to be a double fucking mobius reacharound on your battered psyche, so you don't actually know anything about the kid or who he grew up to be.

Perhaps the real 'Bro' wasn't all cool, after all. For all you know he turned out to be some office worker with a secret, all consuming passion for hats.

But that's probably ridiculous.

You watch yourself grow up, and it sucks not to be able to say things like "that nerd with the blue text is actually pretty cool" or "in two years, you'll be grateful we had this strife" or "YOU WILL LIVE THROUGH THE GAME" because you know how useful it would have been, but you also know that if you break the script then time will take it out on the both of you, and besides, by the time the kid understands it'll be too late for you to tell him anything.

Almost as bad is finding out the truth about Bro/yourself the second time around. Like: no, he never even liked the smuppets. Or: the ninja speed is an easy trick for a Knight of Time. And worst of all: it really was all to make you tough enough to survive.

The worst part is knowing what's going to happen. Watching the game start again, and finding it so ridiculously easy, because you're top of the echeladder already and this is beginner stuff and nothing here will ever be as hard as it got later.

You try and resist the urge to think about what happens later.

You fail to resist the urge.

It's hard, fighting that final battle – not just physically, but mentally hard to keep fighting when you know the end is already written.

You hope you're right about this.

Jack overcomes you.

You fall to your knees.

The flash of your own sword.

At least it's quick.

You wake up.

"Dave?"

John.

"Are you okay?"

Fuck, it's been so long.

Too long.

You've missed him.

"Dave!"

Someone laughs.

"Let him breathe, brother. It would be embarrassing to live through all that and die from a hug."

You let go of John, if only to take in the glorious sight of Rose and Jade and green grass and blue skies and yes hell yes you were right.

You made it. It was all just a detour.

"Dave? Are you okay?"

You're fine, you're better than fine, although perhaps the laughter was getting a little manic and you try and calm down and remember being thirteen and oh right, you actually tried to be cool back then instead of it just happening and no wonder they all look worried.

Rose kneels next to you.

"What happened?"

For one horrible moment you realise that your story is crazy and no-one in their right minds will ever believe a word for it.

Then you remember. This is John and Rose and Jade and you just played The Game and they will believe every word because that's just how it goes with you four. The memories are so close now, closer than they've been in years and all those years of being trapped somewhere else are fading, not in an out of existence that never happened way but in a hey remember what being thirteen was like it was like this kind of way and you know that everything is going to be alright.

"Dave?"

They're all gathered around you now, and you don't know how to start because you missed them so much and you only saw them a moment ago and you lived through it and –

You smile.

"Yeah. Just a few time shenanigans."

And for now, that's enough, because there's all the time in the world for telling the stories and right now, you're safe, and you and your three best friends in any universe there is have a new world to explore.