== Be Bro.
Your name is Ambrose, but that's a stupid name and you've banned everyone from calling you that. Especially your little shit of a brother, Dave. You like the kid, he's cool, but he doesn't talk to you about anything any more.
You remember when you first came home with him, after what happened to Mum and Dad. He was too little to remember anything, but he knew it was a sad time for you. He used to sleep in your bed and curl around your leg or something like a little snake. He used to talk a lot, blabbering away about his best friend - Egderp or something? And he used to tell you everything, the kid had no boundaries.
But now he does. And now those boundaries are stopping you from knowing anything. You're not even sure if he's eating anything any more. He's getting skinny, you can see that, but he's also getting tall. You hope he's just going through a growth spurt.
You're lying awake, staring at the ceiling of your room. By all rights, you should be asleep, you are utterly shattered. But you've got a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach and you can't shake it. It feels like someone's dropped a lead weight on you and it hurts more than you can say. Well, it doesn't hurt exactly. It's just really uncomfortable and annoying. Too annoying for a badass like you.
You roll over and look at the wall, the purely ironic posters that are plastered all over them did little to comfort you. Sometimes on nights like this, you feel like just going and getting Dave and telling him they'd both call in sick tomorrow and spend the night playing his shitty video games or watching something that Egderp told him to watch. You never would, of course, because Dave isn't that kind of kid. Not like you were. He's got a future, some potential.
You sigh, looking back at the ceiling. It's not helping, all this thinking. You close your eyes and struggle to sleep, fighting down through to dreams that didn't involve Dave.
== Be Dave.
Your name is Dave, and you too are lying awake. You're lying awake with a phone in front of your eyes, the Pesterchum chat you're reading is several years old; its from when you and John were just starting your friendship. It's cute, but you sound moronic and incredibly formal, especially for a Strider.
You put the phone down and pull your covers down so they're just covering your waist. Your shirt is lying crumpled in a pile on the floor of your bedroom, among the massed bottles of apple juice and the old magazines. You half feel like going to get it, to put it on, but the other half of you feels like you should stay like this forever.
You press your fingers to your ribs, feeling each and everyone stand out against your pale skin. The thinness of your body was starting to worry John, but you can't stop skipping meals. Especially since he stopped talking to you like he used to. You've seen what getting fat does to a body and now its your number three fear.
Number one, of course, being losing John. He's the only person you trust these days and he is completely idiotic. He doesn't understand anything, and is constantly making bad movie references. But you love him, of course you do.
He's your best friend. And that's all.
Number two is losing Jade. But, it seems like you've already done that. She'd been shipped off to a private boarding school in England. She wasn't ever on Pesterchum any more, and she didn't call at all. Or even write letters.
But you're still friends.
Maybe.
== Be Bro.
You wake up with the feeling in your stomach worse than when you went to sleep last night. Maybe you were sick? You roll out of bed, literally. The second your feet hit the floor you know something's wrong.
You pad out of the room and towards the bathroom; getting ready for work required a shower and some fresh clothes. You reach the white door of the bathroom and push it open gently with one hand.
Oh god.
== Be Dave.
You can't be Dave, as Dave is busy dying.
== Be Bro.
"Fuck!" You dive forwards, pulling Dave out of the red water. You slap his face gently, more of a pap really. It does nothing, his breathing but its shallow and faint. You rip all the towels down from the hangers and wrap them around Dave's bleeding wrists as gently as you can.
Why the FUCK did you even THINK about keeping those goddamn swords around the house?
You yank your phone from your pocket - thank god for your odd habit of sleeping in your normal clothes - and dial 911.
"Hello, 911. What is your emergency?" The woman's voice asks.
"M-my brother." You mutter, looking down at Dave's pale blond face. His hair is stained from the bloody water, damp blonde with a red-ish tint. "He's dying. I need an ambulance."
"Okay, could you remain calm. Tell me where you are."
Remain calm? Are you calm? Not really, its just that right now nothing feels real. It's like you're in a haze and you're so scared that Dave might not make it - but he will make it, he always does.
You tell her your address and ask what to do with Dave. She asks what happened and you explain exactly what he looks like. She tells you exactly what to do. You realise you're crying, tears streaming down your face.
"Fucking get here." You thumb the red button and end the call.
== Be John.
You're on your way to the hospital where your best friend is in the ICU. He's in a serious condition and there's only a small chance he'll make it through this. He's lost a lot of blood, and that is all you know. You have no idea what happened, but you know why.
At least, you think you might.
You look down at your hands, trying so hard not to cry. Your dad's driving the car, he took the day off work and you, the day off school. Dad has a pipe in his mouth, but he hasn't lit it. He's anxious too, you can feel it.
Even though Dave wasn't exactly a perfect kid, he was nice enough to Dad and he made you happy. That's what Dad was worried about; the fact that Dave might not be here to make you happy any more.
== Be Bro.
You're sitting next to your little brother, holding his hand, when Egderp walks in. You don't even bother to look up, he's not important. He sits on the other side of Dave and takes his other hand quietly.
You sit in silence for a while before Egderp says anything. "Dave, listen to me." He says softly, his voice hitching, "I need you, okay? Don't do this. Wake up now, please."
You look up. He's crying, tears falling off of his slightly chubby chin. His fingers are wrapped around Dave's hand, crushing them. But you don't mind, not at all, because here is someone that's feeling the same thing that you are. He's feeling as lost as you, and that's rare.
"Egd- John," you mutter, rubbing your neck, "he's not gonna..."
"Shut up." John snaps at you, his blue eyes flaring. "You shut up. Right now."
You nod, you didn't want to hear it either. You draw your hand back from Dave's and cross your arms. You debate giving John some time alone with Dave, but you don't want to leave your baby brother.
You stand up, watching John clutch at Dave is more than you can bear now. Normally, you'd make a gay joke, or tell him he was being a wuss, but right now John is doing everything you wish you could do. He is crying, begging and pleading with Dave to stay alive.
== Be John.
You watch Bro leave the room, he does it silently and as quick as a flash. The room is empty without him, just Dave and you now.
Your heart wrenches as you watch Dave's heart rate monitor going. It's killing you, not being able to tell him. But unless you do it now, you might never get the chance to.
"Dave- David, I have to tell you something." Your voice breaks and you're going to cry, but you've got to finish this, you have to tell him. "I want to tell you that I - despite the fact that we're completely different people - I adore you. I think you're... Um..." You pause and swallow the lump rising in your throat, "I love you, David Strider and I want you to stay alive. Please? For me?"
== Be Bro.
You stand outside the door and try not to listen to John telling your little brother he loves him. Part of you is screaming at Egderp that Dave is head over heels for him, and ever since they stopped talking he's been getting worse and worse. The other part of you is hoping that this wont be the last memory that John has of Dave.
A nurse attempts to walk in, but you stand in front of her. She's pretty, but her blonde hair is looking bleached under the harsh hospital lights. She raises her hand and tries to move you out the way with a small flutter of her fingers.
"Excuse me, Mr Strider, I need to-"
You shake your head and fold you arms, your stance clearly defensive, "No. He's busy, his best friend's in there."
"I really do nee-"
"BRO!" John slams the door open; panic painted across his face, tears were falling again from the boy's blue eyes. "He... Fucking... Just... HELP HIM."
== Be Bro.
You pull John out of the nurse's way, all the other hospital lackies following her. Your hands are shaking and you're holding John close, like you used to hold Dave. But you're not holding Dave; Dave is lying in bed surrounded by people trying to keep him alive.
John looks up at you, his eyes red and swollen from crying. You run your fingers thorough his hair and kneel down so that you're the same height as him. He throws his arms around your neck, sobbing into your chest.
He knocks your glasses off, and scrambles to pick them up. You take them from his clenched fist before he breaks them. Just as you're about to put them back on, his hands pull them down. He peers into your eyes, tears blurring his vision.
"You have his eyes." He says quietly, looking at you with a pained adoration. You nod slowly and swallow. He let go of your wrists as you slide your glasses back up your nose.
== Be John.
You cling to Bro's legs after he stands up, your face is about level with his chest. His hands gently rubbing over your shoulders and keeping you close. He's almost bent double when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.
"He's gonna be fine. He's gonna be fine." You repeat it like a mantra, each of you needing to hear it.
"He's gonna be fuckin' fine." Bro whispers in your ear. "That's my little bro in there and he's a fuckin' warrior."
You sniff and nod. "He's gonna be fine, right?"
"Right." Bro says, his voice cracking.
== Be Bro; 2 years later.
"Hey little man!" You grin, swinging the small man-shaped missile in your arms.
"Bro, I fuckin' missed you!" He grins, his toothy grin sends a shock of pain into your heart. You grin back at him and put him down.
"God, how old are you now?" You ask, ruffling John's hair.
"Eighteen." He says; his long, thin frame agreeing with him. He's starting to fill out, his chest is just broader than it was two years ago. "How are you?"
You shove your hands in your pockets and start walking. John trots to catch up, his legs not as long as yours. It's the Strider gene, you're longer and thinner than most. "I'm... Good, I think. Yeah."
You smile at him from under your cap and glasses. You're wearing the cap he got you for Christmas two years ago, and he's noticed. His eyes keep darting to it, and a cute little half smile appears on his face.
You reach the place you want to get to. Both of you fall silent and look out over the plot. The little gravestone was worn by two years of the elements, but otherwise it was well looked after. On it was his name, his goofy little gear sign and the dates of importance in his life.
"Hey little brother." You smile as you sit down opposite the headstone.
John places himself next to you, his smile fading but still there. "Hey Dave."