I shall give you all fair warning here. This story is Sadstuck. I wrote it after my friend committed suicide, and my aunt, grandpa, and uncle were very sick and dying as a sort of mental release.

I JUST GOT MY INVITATION TO AO3! So I am finally going to upload this there, but a different version of this story. Due to FF's new rules, I tried to keep this at the upper-half of the Rated T, though if you disapprove of the rating, please let me know. The version I will be uploading to Ao3 will the mature version. The Mature Version will have added scenes not displayed in the Teen Version, and there will be less cutaways as I can actually fill in what happened there, without it getting taken down. There is also a HUGE possibility I will upload Wrong to Ao3 included with art, either art I have drawn, or Fan Art for that page - so if you have fan art, please send it to me, and I will incorporate it into the Mature Version, wherever it fits in the story! I'm going to take advantage of Ao3's better formatting options for the story, as well as fix the parts I wrote while suffering from Mono, a Concussion, drunk, or hungover.

Its up to you what version you want to read, or read them both! Comments and Reviews are ALWAYS Treasures, and I love getting them! They keep me focused :D

We can't post links on FF, but look me up on Archive of Our Own under the same username - Air_Head_Ry!

Other then that, please enjoy this story, it was very addicting to write, and fun to work on.


DAVE: Get taken away…


Dave did not know what to think. Should he be angry? Sad? Maybe even a mix of both as the Social Worker started leading him over to her car. Dave looked around, there was not much more option for escape.

Why was this even happening? Sure, Bro wasn't the best 'father' around, he made a few mistakes - took off for days at a time on road trips for his gig, accidentally locking him out of the apartment maybe once or twice, their usual strife's on the roof… but how was not abusive? It was Dave's fault that the Social Worker was here. It was Dave's fault that they judged Bro a bad 'father'. It wasn't that Bro was a bad 'father', it was that Dave was a terrible 'son'.

Bro was really young when he found Dave. Apparently, he had found him as a baby by the side of the road while he was travelling on one of his 'gigs'. After a few weeks of no one coming to claim him, Bro had taken Dave home to foster him till the real parents showed up. After a few years and no one claimed him, he signed the adoption papers, and legally made Dave a Strider. The government was never truly happy with that decision. They told Bro that he was too young and immature to raise a child - and had been watching him closely ever since. Dave knew they were watching them, judging Bro's every move - and yet he still acted out.

Dave had a short fuse, and a mean temper when he wanted. Ever since he was a child, he had gotten in fights on the playground, at school…around town…everywhere someone mouthed him off, or looked at him wrong. Dave was really young when Bro decided to try and vent some of that anger and frustration out. He could remember Bro leading him around, checking into all the different sports around their hometown in Texas. But even at such an age, Dave knew that Bro could never afford to enrol him in anything. Instead, Bro decided to help Dave himself. He bought Dave a fake sword, and the two would 'strife' on the roof.

It was Dave's fault for being labelled 'dangerous' and 'out of control'…not Bro's. He was the one that would sneak money out of Bro's wallet and go buy drugs, or weapons, or booze, or whatever he felt like. He was the one that would sneak out or wait till Bro left for a 'gig' and party till the police arrested him, it was his fault that he stabbed that guy, and it was his fault for getting involved with the group of people he was in. He'd never call them a 'gang', though that was a pretty close word for it. Which only made his upbringing look worse. Bro did not know about his 'group of friends'. Dave would never tell him. All he knew was the look of disappointment on Bro's face whenever Bro had to pick him up from either the Hospital, or the Police Station…

And yet Bro was getting blamed for it. It was not fair! The guilt settled down deep in Dave's stomach as they reached the car. He looked back and saw Bro standing in front of the apartment, his arms crossed, and his hat pulled far over his face. Dave wished he could see Bro's eyes, but Bro never took off his cheesy-anime style sunglasses - giving the older Strider a stoic expression.

"Come on Dave," The Social Worker said sweetly. Way to sweet… it nearly burnt Dave's ears. "We're going to find you a better home, somewhere you will be raised properly."

"I have a home." Dave mumbled.

"What was that?" The Social Worker asked without looking at him. She opened the car door, "I did not quite catch that dear, your mumbling."

Dave felt the rage boil inside him. She was mocking him. Her 'sugary sweet' tone was covering up the condescending underneath. In the back of Dave's mind, he knew getting mad right now would be a bad idea. It would not help his case at all - or Bro's. But that was all pushed back by the anger and hatred he suddenly felt towards the woman standing beside him, looking at him with one raised eyebrow, motioning him to get into the car, one hand clasped tightly around his wrist.

"I SAID FUCK OFF!" Dave shouted, stomping down as hard as he could on the woman's foot. She screamed and let go of his wrist. Dave did not waste a second. Without thinking, he ran. Somewhere in the back of his head, his mind screamed that this was all wrong. That this was bad… that this was only going to mess things up more… but he did not care. He was done with messing things up - done with fucking up everyone's lives…

He heard the woman scream after him, and he could hear Bro calling his name. He could hear the car starting behind him…

And he knew that if he did not get off the road, it was not going to be long until she caught him. He had outrun the Police being drunk or stoned out of his mind before - he was pretty sure he could outrun a Social Worker in an Oldsmobile.

There was nothing but skyscrapers around - typical of a large city. When Dave had gone to house parties, they were usually in the suburbs, and he'd escape through someone's backyard. Today however, an alleyway would make do. He quickly slide between two skyscrapers and booked it down the alley. There was a chain-link fence at the end…there was always a chain-link fence. Why didn't Dave know this by now? There was a few dumpsters nearby, but there was no way in hell he was going to hide. He jumped up onto one, as the Social Worker's car pulled up to the end of the alley, and used it as a ledge to jump over the fence, and booked it down the alley on the other side. He knew the Worker would waste no time in driving around to face him, so he booked it as fast as he could, jumping out into traffic on the other side. The screeching of tired and honking of horns was nothing new to him, and he felt the bumper of a car hit his leg, making him stumble, but at least this time he was not hit… he quickly looked behind him for the Social Worker, but did not see anything, before running as fast as he could into a mall across the street. At least he could hide in the crowd of people there…

He felt his phone go off in his pocket, the ring tone blasting a rap song. He quickly silenced it as he slipped into the mall and disappeared among the hundreds of people crowding the store. He did not care which department store he was going to hide in, as long as it was busy. He slipped into one of them, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Now that the adrenaline was settling down, he started to limp. Maybe that car hurt him more then he thought? Ignoring the limp, he walked into the clothing isle and straight to the back of the store. It was a busy H&M. Not one of his usual haunts, but it was busy enough to hide for awhile. He finally pulled his phone out of his pocket and found a text message from Bro…

TT: Get your ass back home now.

That was all it said.


BRO: Deal With Social Worker