'Ey there. So, this is my first Dave/Jade FanFic, and I've realized that a few of my John/Rose stuff hasn't gotten reviews. If you like what you read here, please go and check out those and critique my work. Reviews really help me adapt my writing style. Of course, it's totally voluntary. Enjoy.
For those of you who know what this story is inspired by, props to you. If you liked the story (the inspiration, not this story, even though it would be nice), then you get a free hug from me.
As you walk down the abandoned street of your crummy neighborhood, you've only got two things on your mind: Hella Jeff 'n' Sweet Bro, and a ride home. The breeze threatens to knock you over, and the torn hoodie offers little protection from the fierce roars. You've practically buried your glove-less hands into the pockets of your gray hoodie, which you actually don't even use. Small holes make all of your change fall out, and you never have any spare dollars. Or a phone. Or a car. Even though you know how to drive, you're technically not old enough, only thirteen. It was your Bro that taught you, although he seemed pretty reluctant at first. Guess there was no point in the lessons then if you'd end up walking the same route home.
Street signs are covered in graffiti, marks of the nearby gang that runs this area. A run-in with them right now would mean a bad beating for you, so you make a note to start walking faster. After letting another car pass through the crossroad, you dash across before the next car, a gray van, pummels through, barely missing your leg. Yeah, this was basically the ghetto part of town, where most people are people like you: broke, bad, and orphaned. Bro is the only family you've got left, and let's face it: he doesn't make for a good, "welcome back from school!" guy to make you snacks and shit. That comic, Hella Jeff and Sweet Bro, is practically your only source of income. But it's not enough to be able to feed you at school, so you're the loner kid who's gotta walk up to the cafeteria lady and say you're too poor to buy food at school. Unless Bro is cool enough to make dinner, even if it is just some microwaved mashed potatoes an' salisbury steak. He's still a pretty cool guy, and he's got your back if you're jumped. It's fuckin' weird. He's got like that... claravey... clara-something, and he just seems to know whenever you're in trouble.
Your blonde hair covers your sunglasses in a style that just makes you look even cooler. But while you may look the part, you certainly can't act it. In fact, you kinda suck. That's why Bro's there. He's supposed to teach you everything he knows, but he rarely does shit. Apparently, having a tough image made you immortal in these parts of town. At least, as close to immortal as you can. You need the extra protection in such a dirty neighborhood.
You trudge along the dirt road, passing through a short-cut across an alley. It's not exactly the safest thing you've ever done, but you really don't care about that shit. It's just about getting home as fast as you can. And besides, the chances of getting jumped in the middle of the street versus an alley-way... the exact same. At least, in this part of town.
The ominous lighting of the flickering street lamps makes you uncomfortable, so you begin to walk faster, heart-rate pumping faster, your hands buried into your pockets to keep the loose change from bouncing around and falling out. The last thing you want is to alert anyone that you've got extra cash. Although, if anyone does come out, you've got a five ton heavy backpack you can swing, and it would probably crack someone's skull. Man, why the fuck do these teachers give a bucket-load of homework? What's the point of it? All you do is go home, do stuff you already did at school, suck at it, turn it in, and have it hurt your grade to the point where you need summer school. Because that's where you're bordering right now. Dreadfully close to the edge of an F in your final class, where it'll send you flying off the cliff into the shit-load of homework below. If you can't learn the crap in forty weeks, what makes them think you can learn it in twelve? Geez, for people that are supposed to be super smart, they sure are dumb.
Bro would probably smack you over the head for calling your teachers dumb.
To be honest, not all of them are terrible. Mr. Patterson's nice. He gives you a chance to make up stuff you either don't do or suck at, unlike the other teachers, who tell you to "suck it up" because you're going to high school next year.
Yeah, well, you'll just drop outta high school and be done with it. Then you could help your Bro work on that comic of his, and then you'll be making double income! At least, that's the way you think it works. Better quality makes for more money, right?
Wham!
You're knocked out of thought when a pipe comes clean to your cheek, staining it red with stinging pain, and a clear mark of the outline slapped on your face. You collide with the ground in an instant, your backpack keeping you from standing back up. Fuckin' backpack.
You quickly use your arms to catch your fall, but you end up smacking them against the ground even harder. Your head narrowly misses a dumpster's sharp corner by only a few inches. Guess that's somethin' to be grateful for.
A sharp pain shoots through your thigh, and you realize you've been kicked. Fuckin' gang. They got an early jump on you. Normally you can make it all the way across to the borderline territory before you're jumped, and Bro is usually waiting for you there to get them off your back. You just had to be an idiot and start day-dreaming, didn't ya?
"'Ey, Strider." A familiar voice is followed by a second kick. "Watcha doin' in this part o' town? Y'know you're not supposed to be here, runt."
"Punk, how many beatins does it take to get ya to run off?" The voice of a younger kid is heard, but he's quickly silenced by the older man.
"Shut up, kid." A husky voice calls out. "Both o' ya."
You struggle to get on your side, the backpack not helping you up in any way. Shrugging it off your shoulders, you use it as a support to try and stand, but your face meets a boot. You're knocked back down onto the ground, cornered against the dumpster. Heart beating faster and pumping adrenaline through your body, your fist balls up and you dive forward, letting rip a serious punch at some guy's gut.
He goes down with an "oof," but you are instantly countered by a third member. A man with a blocky face and narrow nose, dark eyes that mean serious business.
"Buster... just lemme alone." You manage to choke out through is tight grip on your collar. Just for once, can't these douchebags leave you alone?
"'Eh, sorry kid. You know da rules." He reels back his fist, and you recoil in fear, your eyes closed and bracing for impact. Instead of going for your face, his fist meets your gut, feeling as though it could spill your insides out. "You caught on our territory, you pay da price."
"Hey, I wanna shot at him!" Another voice from behind, Cal, calls out in complaints, but is quieted by the older man standing next to him.
"You know what we do to little punks like you?" The latter, Vice, said, a sly grin on his face as he cracked his knuckles.
"Just lemme alone!" You cry out, hoping your voice can get someone to come over. "This is the only way home from school, I promise, I'll get right out-"
Your voice is silenced by a gut-wrenching punch, causing you to double over. However, you are instantly pushed against the wall again by Buster, his knee pushing its way into your gut. Nausea instantly comes over you, and you wish you could just throw up all over the douche.
"Heh, heh." Buster laughs, just a hard chuckle. "How cute is this? He's begging for his life!" Another punch sends you over the edge in pain, unable to clutch your gut as the large man has both of your arms pinned.
"Aw, ain't dat cute?" Vice approached Buster, dealing another blow to your jaw. Skin meets skin, and a loud slap echoes the otherwise vacant alley.
You feel your mind going blank, unable to even cry out for help anymore. You just let them have at you, one punch after another, unable to even feel the pain anymore as your whole body starts to go numb.
"Hey!" Another, unfamiliar voice cries out in the darkness. You can't see who it is, but the footsteps indicate they're coming this way.
"Oh, Jade!" Buster calls out, dropping you immediately. "'Ey, babe, we still up for Saturday?"
"What the hell are you doing?" The person... named... Jade... says, completely ignoring his question. You fall to the ground as Buster releases his grip on your collar, and your legs are unable to support you. Someone's by your side now. Is it Jade?
"We were just getting' him out of our territory, you understand." Vice speaks out, but a low growl comes from the girl next to you.
"Get out." She hisses, a hand covering your cheek. You groan in pain as her touch stings the wound.
"Woah, what?"
"Out!" She screams this time, pointing towards what you assume to be the end of the alley. You hear a heated argument between the three of them, with the younger one, Cal, sitting awkwardly in the background. Vision blurred beyond visible and hearing shot, you begin to feel yourself fading, their words there, but unable to make heads or tails of what they're saying.
You feel her touch again this time, but its more gingerly, a light feather against the rough of your calluses. She seems to be dabbing your sting and bruises on your jaw with a light cloth, and pulling blood away from it. Was it really that bad? It didn't feel like it was hard enough to draw blood.
After a moment of silence, she finally speaks up. "Are... you okay?"
You're shocked, for a moment, your jaw hurting too much to be able to move. So you only give her a stiff nod and a small smile that takes all your effort to muster.
"Ah. Okay, good." She quickly states, returning to her cycle of dabbing and cleaning your wound. You just sit there silently, finally glad that you can rest easy in her care. It was amazing that she was able to scare them off. No one can. But Buster seemed to know her... he called her "babe." Does that mean that...-
"Does that feel better?" She says, pulling away from the wound. Apparently, there wasn't too much blood. That's good, but what the hell are you supposed to tell Bro when you finally get back home? "I hope you don't mind, but I put a bit of cover-up on there to make the bruise less visible. Is... that okay?"
It's a bit hard to understand what she's saying, but you give a curt nod.
"Okay. Good!" She sounds a bit chipper this time, almost a bit too much to your liking. The girl puts the cloth away and tries to help you to your feet, her body and the wall your only supports.
"Thanks." You finally manage to choke out, still a bit in shock at what just happened. You rub your chin sub-consciously, feeling the welt that remains on your left cheek. When you pull your finger away, you find traces of powder.
"Oh, it was nothing!" She smiles at you, almost a school-girl-esque. "I'm Jade. What's your name?"
"Dave." You puff out, heaving a heavy sigh as you cringe at your sides, pulling up your shirt to reveal more purple and black bruises lining the areas you were kicked and punched, mainly your thigh and gut.
"Oh..." Jade huffs in frustration, but it doesn't seem directed towards you. "Stupid Buster... He shouldn't be doing this. I can't believe he thinks I'm some sort of trophy to him."
Your eyes go wide with shock. "So you and Buster... aren't a...?" You trail off, trying to hint at what you're getting at.
She finally realizes after a moment of silence. "Oh... oh! No, no, no." She laughs it off, as if it wasn't even a thought in her mind. "Buster seems to think I'm a girl of his gang, but I refuse to be a part in what he does." Her eyes graze over you as she looks at Buster's handiwork. "I hate it. This."
"The fighting?"
"The beating mainly. Bullying younger kids." She sighs and lets you rest against the wall for awhile, her single braid nearly falling apart and letting her black hair flow freely. "You still need help. Would you mind if I take you back to my house?" Jade smiled, as if inviting a total stranger to your home meant nothing to her. "I could give you some ice packs and stuff.
You shrug. "I, uh... I guess so." The smile on her face forces you to give in. Damn, what is it about her and that ridiculous puppy dog face? You cringe as you try to walk, but she helps you through it, her arms around your waist, letting you use her shoulder for balance.
"So, where do you live?"
"With my bro. At the opposite end of the town, practically." You say, trying not to look into her eyes.
"Oh! That must be a terrible walk. I hope you take the bus." She says, almost genuinely concerned.
You laugh, but instantly realize that laughing hurts, and stop. "Of course I take the bus. But it only goes to the street back there, so I have to walk the rest of the way."
"Your brother doesn't pick you up?"
"Nah. We don't own a car."
"No car?" She said in shock.
"Nope."
"What about a bicycle?"
"Nuh uh."
"How about a T.V.?"
You burst out in laughter again. "What do you think I live under, a rock? 'Course I gotta T.V.!" She seems to smile widely at your outburst, rolling her eyes in amusement.
"Well, you never know!" She looks around as the two of you exit the alley, crossing the next light, and maneuver through the dirt road. "Some people actually do around these parts!"
You chuckle again, taking a turn through a more seasonal path, trees of autumn leaves lining the path. Much more to look at than your little ghetto road.
"Well, if you don't have any of that stuff, you're gonna be amazed at what you see." She pulls you along, going a bit faster. What is she so excited about? You're not sure if following her was a good idea, but it's too late to go back on it now. You've already made her excited, and who are you, a little peasant, to take away a queen's happiness? … Okay, that sounded better in your head than it did out-loud.
"Really?" You ask in surprise. "Just where exactly do you live?"
"We're already there." She giggles, pointing towards a large, two-story house with a beautiful front-yard, lined with forget-me-nots and sunflowers. Autumn trees surround the driving circle, which should be littered in leaves. You suppose they tidy up the place.
"Wow..." Is all you can say. Seriously? Dude, really? You're at a fuckin' rich person's house, and all you can say is "wow"?
"Come on, let's go inside!" Jade says, pulling you along faster.
"Woah, woah." You say, stumbling as you let go of her grasp and rely on your own weight. "Are your parents even going to want me in there?" You take a quick glance down at your own clothes: ripped jeans and a torn hoodie. "I don't think I'm exactly up to par with their standards."
"Nonsense!" Jade smiles and beckons you towards the front door. You manage to walk over there without falling like an idiot and stand next to her as she opens the eight-foot door, preparing for the impact of the large foyer.
Grand. That's the first word. The second? Huuuuuge. You're fairly certain those words don't mean the same thing. Either way, there's a gigantic-ass glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling in practically every single color you could think of. The walls are an ivory with marble flooring to match, with flecks of brown and black in-between. Just... wow.
"Damn... you live here... like, every day?"
"Every day."
"With wide-screen T.V.?"
"With wide-screen T.V." She smiles, gesturing for you to step further inside. You oblige, feeling the floor squeak against your filthy sneakers.
"Uh... sorry. You want me to, like, take my shoes off or somethin'?" You begin to kick them off when she shakes her head.
"No, that's okay. Grandpa won't mind." You cringe as you realized you just mentioned her parents earlier, when she doesn't even have any. Fuck. Smooth move, Strider. Now you've definitely got the chick. Although, she doesn't seem to mind. But why not?
You hear a sudden barking sound as a large, white force knocks into you, and it would've knocked you over had it not been for Jade standing there to catch you.
"Jegus!" You exclaim as the dog puts it paws on your chest, eyeing you warily, until Jade scolds it profusely. It climbs off you, but its green eyes still wearily watch you.
"Oh... I'm sorry. This is Becquerel, my dog." She glares at him, and the dog instantly recognizes it did something wrong. "Oh, it's okay, boy. Just don't do that again. Dave's a friend, okay?"
As if the dog could understand her, it barks in happiness and scurries off, probably to find some toy to play with. You're not sure whether to be amused or scared. Maybe both?
"Well, come on!" She pulls you along, and you only watch in amazement as she drags you down a lovely hallway with what you assumed to be original paintings, the floor perfectly clean as if it was brand new. This place really was amazing. How the hell did her family get to be so rich? "Grandpa!" She calls out as the two of you enter the kitchen.
You spend the next hour or so talking with Jade and her grandpa, who is actually quite young for a "grandpa." He looks like he's in his mid-fifties, really. But you don't say anything, 'cause shit like that would be rude, and you're all about class. The guy even invited for you to stay afterwards for dinner, and you really don't know what you were thinking when you accepted. But you're glad you did.
"And then... so, I walk over to the soda machine, and Rose is just standing there as John tries to break it open, screaming stuff like 'stupid machine took my money!' and Rose promised to by him something else, and then-"
Jade seems to go on and on with her stories of her days at school, but you don't really mind. It's nice, just listening to her speak and just fade into non-existence; the only thing anchoring you to the real world? Her voice.
Dinner was also really good. Steak and mash potatoes. You even fed a tiny bit of meat to Bec, so you're pretty sure he likes you now. After all, what creature, human or dog alike, can resist the temptation of meat? And, to be honest, if this were to become a regular thing (which you scream inside your head that its not), then you're going to want Bec to not jump on your chest every day.
"Thanks for dinner, Mr. Harley. And I have to say, this house is amazing, if you don't mind me saying." You compliment. A real one too, not some fake stuff you say just to get on people's good sides.
He gives a hearty laughter and swallows a steak nearly whole. "Why thank you! Jade, you seemed to have quite an eye for young lads."
"Grandpa!" She blushes immediately, rose cheeks contrasting with her green eyes. You smile. A real smile. Heartwarming smile.
"So, Dave, where do you live?"
You nearly choke out your steak.
"Er, excuse me?" You ask, managing to swallow the chunk of meat without choking and causing a scene.
"Where do you live? Is it far from here?" Jade's grandpa questions further, but Jade shifts a bit uncomfortably. She opens her mouth to speak, but you shake your head, telling her it's alright.
"Uh, yeah." You start awkwardly, "Yeah, I live a bit east from here."
"East? But, boy, that's the-" A realization washes over his face. "Oh, I see."
"See what, Grandpa?" Jade gives an almost hissed warning through her mashed potatoes, glaring at the old man to keep him from saying anything he'll regret. But hey, you're tough. You can take whatever the guy can dish out.
"Well, nothing. There's nothing wrong with living over there. Doesn't change you as a person, after all!" He quickly says, a smile indicating the truth was said.
"Really?" You inquire, "Not to sound rude, but I thought that all... er, "rich-kids" gangs hated the poor district." Your fork glides over a piece of meat, playing with it. "I mean, no one really likes us."
"Oh, Dave... Dave, Dave, Dave." Jade says nonchalantly, a slight "tsk" to her voice. You raise your gaze to her in confusion, unable to speak words or ask a question. "It doesn't matter where you come from. I mean..." She stumbles a bit, "Y'know what, just follow me."
Without warning or consent, she drags you outside into their backyard, which, by the way, looked amazing. It was like a personal garden with a small fountain in the middle, surrounded by just about every type of flower you could come up with, and a small, stone path leading out. Jade takes you along that path, coming to a sort of clearing near the wall, where the sky can be seen as a mix of golden and blue and yellow and orange and pink, every color that you could imagine clashing seems to fall together in a cascade of colors. It's beautiful.
"You know what that is?" Jade asks, and for a moment, you think she's joking. But she gazes at you with a serious expression, and you can only gulp as you try to figure out what it means.
"Er, yeah? Of course." You shrug, "It's a sunset."
"Right," she says, pointing towards the direction of the horizon. "and you live over there, correct?"
"Yup." You say quizzically, unable to pinpoint where exactly this conversation is going. You shift uncomfortably in your shoes; her hand has yet to let go of yours, even though you don't exactly mind.
"Now, tell me, what does that area over there," she stretches her arm once more to locate the roofs of the ghetto, "and this area have in common?"
"Is that a joke?" You say, chuckling. "Absolutely nothing."
"Come on, Dave. You can't think of a single thing?"
You ponder for a mere ten seconds. "Nope."
"Think harder."
"C'mon, Jade-"
"Think bigger."
Bigger? What exactly did she mean by that? You stare up at the sky, wondering how such a concoction of elements could be created. And then it hits you.
"The sunset?"
A moment of silence before she finally nods her head. "Yes, the sunset. It doesn't matter where you are or where you come from; we all watch the same sunset." Her words are smooth as silk as she grips your hand tighter. "Whether you're rich or poor, or old or young. That gold and blue sky is all ours."
You kinda get what she's saying, but not enough to cause some sort of revelation. You just shrug and nod, as if in agreement.
"No, Dave, you have to really understand. You have to really see. Do you see?" She beckons towards the horizon once more, and you find yourself forced by some invisible force to stare at it once more. You sigh inaudibly and put weight into one foot.
"I guess... I see what you're saying. That, we are kinda all connected somehow? By, like, the sky? It's something we all have in common, even though we're all different?"
"Exactly." She nods, a soft smile on her face as she looks at you. You feel red under her gaze, but you're fairly certain your cheeks aren't blushing. At least, you hope to Gog not. She suddenly speaks out again. "Do you... do you mind?" Her delicate hands reach up to your sunglasses, one of your most prized possession. No one has seen your eyes. The only one being your Bro, and he hasn't seen them in a long time. You practically shower with these fuckin' things.
You don't breathe a word, but give a soft nod. She pulls them off gently, trying to make sure not to poke the bruised skin around your cheeks. With one, slow motion, the glasses are off. Jade pulls them down to her side and stares into your eyes; red with the burning passion of a young man. And it's only this time that, not only can she see your eyes, but you can finally see hers.
She opens her mouth to speak, but you interrupt before she can say a word. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Red eyes are creepy. And no, they're not contacts."
"No, no!" She quickly hushes you and smiles. "They're beautiful."
"How so?"
"They remind me of the sunset."
You had to say goodbye, Jade's grandpa refusing to let her walk out late at night. She seems saddened, but you reassure her that you can walk just fine now. She only giggles, plants a kiss on your cheek, and walks inside.
Hot damn, Strider. Nice going.
With a ridiculously goofy grin plastered on your face, you quietly sneak along the sidewalk with a bounce to your step, a hum to your voice, and it seems as if everything in the world is sunshine and flowers. Nothing could bring you down, it seemed. Like you were floating on a cloud in the sky. Damn. This feels so freaking weird, but you weren't complaining.
You open the door of your house, practically jumping into it with flips and twirls. A hum of a familiar song is bare audible as you make your way to the kitchen, your grip on the fridge swings it open hard and swift. Grabbing the milk carton and drinking it straight from, you-
Gag!
...choke on your milk as you turn around and find Bro staring at you in the face, sputtering just a bit of the white stuff on his cheek. He doesn't even flinch.
"And what the fuck do you think you were doing out until nine o'clock at night?" He growls, taking the milk carton from your shocked hands and throwing it back in the fridge. "And who the fuck gave you such permission?"
You struggle for something to say. Fuck, you are in some deep shit. "Ah... sorry, Bro. I just-"
"Sorry?" He hisses, "Sorry doesn't cut it, pal." He leans in closer, intimidating you beyond hell itself.
"Look, dude, I just met some girl and she invited me to her house, okay? We cool?" You growl back into his face, spit flying off your lips in both form and venom. Suddenly, his expression changes.
You quickly turn around.
"What the fuck... is that... is that makeup?" He flinches in shock, and, although you can't see his eyes, you're fairly certain he's got a look of pure terror behind those shades. As if he just found out his little bro's homo.
"Look, it's just that this girl put it on me to..." Shit. You stop your sentence right in its tracks. Bro comes over and wipes a thumb across your cheek, removing the skin-tone to reveal a cluster-fuck of purple, blue, and black. He gasps in horror.
"Who... who did this to you?"
"No one-"
"Who the fuck did this to you?" He screams this time, pissed, but not at you. Bro groans and puts a hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples as if it would calm him down.
"Nothin'. Just a jump, but I'm fine-"
"You were jumped? What the hell were you thinking, Dave? You know you're supposed to get to the edge as soon as school's out!"
"Look, I'm fucking sorry, okay? I couldn't help it! I couldn't fucking help it!" You ball your fist up, and it takes all of your strength not to cry. Thankfully, he wouldn't even be able to see it behind the shades. Your teeth begin to clench together and chatter, despite not even being cold.
You storm off.
Bro tries to call out for you, but you've already slammed your door shut and sprawled out onto the bed. Screaming into your pillow helps get the anger out. Also throwing it against the wall. And kicking over your chair. And throwing homework books on the floor.
Bro finally comes in, and you regret never getting a lock installed on the door. He sees the mess you made, but makes no comment about it.
"Look, little bro..." His voice is coarse and rough, and not even clearing his throat helps. That's what you get for all the yelling.
"I don't wanna hear it." You hiss, turning your back away from him.
"No, just... listen." He says seriously, and you finally turn your gaze back on him. "Look, I know things aren't perfect, but I'm doing the best I can. I know I can't be there for you to help you all the time, but that's why I do this. So that you can learn to be independent, and you won't need me one day."
"What the fuck you talking about." You grin slyly. "I'll always need ya, bro."
He just laughs. "Yeah, heh. 'Spose you will." He pulls you closer. "So... what's this about a girl, now? What's her name?"
"Oh, c'mon bro..."
"No, nope. I've gotta hear this now."
"Fine..." You stutter at the inability to form coherent words. Does she really make you feel this way?
"Her name's Jade. And she says I've got the eyes of a sunset." Your Bro lets out a big laugh, and you eye him warily. "What? It's true!"
"Sure, Cassanova." He grins. "Start from the beginning. I wanna hear it all."
You gulp down, wondering what he'd think about the jump, but you quickly push the thoughts aside. "Alright then: 'As I walked down the abandoned street of my crummy neighborhood, I've only got two things on my mind: Hella Jeff 'n' Sweet Bro, and a ride home...'"