Disclaimer: Homestuck characters are not owned by me! Asides from this, enjoy :)
Your shirt's not sticking to your back for the first time in many, many days. You too find that your black framed glasses are not constantly sliding down due to perspiration on your nose bridge. You firmly squeeze the girl's hand in yours and you can feel her warm chocolate brown eyes gazing lovingly at you as you mirror her gesture at the exact same moment.
Your name's John Egbert and you're out at the park with your daughter, Jenna Egbert. Being a young child, Jenna's attention had already turned away from you to the water fountain, that Labrador chasing a Frisbee, a bright yellow butterfly, an ice cream truck, pigeons cooing as they feed on bread crumbs, back to the ice cream truck with the growing queue. You trace a lazy pattern on her palm with your thumb as you absorb the image of her fine ebony hair tied in 2 ponytails, the gap where her 2 front milk teeth had once been, the sides of her matching black glasses and the sleeveless blue floral print dress like a dry sponge left to soak up the spilled mess from the cup of really awesome heredity.
"Daddy, stop looking at me like that. I can tell," Jenna commented absent mindedly as her eyes followed the dance of mating butterflies as intently as a 6 year old could. You too, get the occasional reality check at how similar she sounds like when she talks to you in that cool, indifferent tone. It is then you notice that Jenna has been discreetly leading you to the ice cream truck and dense as you were last time, you get her message across clearly. You give her some money and watch her bounce her way to the ice cream truck with the dollar bills clenched in her tiny hand- she was fiercely independent like that.
You push the stroller to an unoccupied bench and put it on lock. The gurgling baby was already stretching his plump arms out to you for you to cuddle him in your well defined, muscular arms- partially thanks to this chubby monster. "Easy there, lil' fella," you said to him with that cool, baritone of yours. You unbuckle the seat belt off him and pull the little Blondie out of his stroller. Today, you decide to place him on your knees and play a little bouncing game as you support his underarms, with that angelic face of his facing you. You seriously cannot get enough of his impossibly emerald orbs; the reason why you can't bear to mask them behind your signature sunglasses.
Don starts to whimper after a while of bouncing on your lap and your paternal instincts tell him that the baby's thirsty. Positioning the baby in the crook of your arm, you reach into the baby bag you now either carry around like an A&F model- because you just have that much testosterone radiating off you- or sling around the handles of the stroller to grab the bottle filled with apple juice for baby and occasionally you; only when the picky wriggling pink monkey decides to waste such an awesome drink. You gently ease the teat into Don's suckling, toothless mouth and soon the baby is sucking the apple juice out of the tiny bottle. As baby sucks on his bottle, your eyes behind Ray Bans scan the park idly. Somehow, your attention is caught by a little girl in a blue floral dress heading your way. Unknowingly, you swallow hard; something about this girl had managed to set herself apart from the girls you've met in the span of your life- not that you're trying to imply that you've met many a number of girls in any manner. She is getting closer to you, a small frown appearing on her forehead as she clutched on to the vanilla ice cream cone in one hand.
You tense subconsciously as she stalks up to you, her white socked feet in black patent shoes closing the gap between you and her, bit by bit. She was just about to reach you in a few more steps when your sensitive ears pick of a voice so distinct, your brain automatically reverts itself to the past and you nearly dropped Don; nearly.
You had taken your eyes off her for a moment and that was when a Frisbee bumped against the back of your calf. Instinctively, you picked it up and scanned the open field for the owner. After successfully identifying said owner, you tossed it back almost effortlessly as compared to the chubby, sports hating adolescence you once had been. When you turned back to the ice cream truck, you find Jenna missing.
You feel your heart leap in your throat but you settle the uneasy feeling building up in your stomach. Jenna had always been more curious than kids her age and she was quite the wanderer so losing her in the crowds was a common occurrence; that too because of your absent mindedness at times, you might so helpfully add. You start to put one sneakered foot after the other, your eyes going into a frenzied search for your –hopefully temporarily- missing daughter.
"Je- Jenna…?" your slightly quavering voice calls out. You just walk randomly, experience telling you that Jenna doesn't really walk around in a set path. You near the benches and you spot a flash of blue from a distance away. You pick up your footsteps, carrying your voice louder.
"Jenna!" You call out once more to get her attention. The child hears you, stopping mid step. She slowly turns towards you and tilts her head to the side, blinking furiously as though disrupted from a trance.
You feel another pair of eyes on you coming from the bench, a stranger whom you had not noticed until now. Naturally, you divert your attention to the stranger and at that moment, it was as though the galaxy had imploded itself upon your cranium with hair fashionably styled by the sleeping position you adopted the previous night before. It wasn't an exaggeration when you experienced a temporary blindness as the sun's rays reflected off Ray Bans and directly into your eyes, bleaching your photoreceptors for a while. You blink hard once, twice and there he was, peering at you with his crimson eyes peeping out from those black shades.
"John?" The monosyllable roils out as a deep rumble. Well of course it is the brunette you have known since you were thirteen. The girl turns towards John now. "Daddy?" her musical voice reaches your ears. No surprise that he has a daughter now too; because you had figured out the universe was made up of one cliché after the other.
Still it was a weak explanation to the dull throbbing forming in your chest, where your heart was pumping blood laboriously through your whole body.
"Daddy, can we take a seat here?" The girl asked. John Egbert is still staring at you with the same expression as the first time you grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him hard. The girl now tugs a corner of his white shirt and he looks down, dazed. "Of- of course we can Jenna. Do you mind?" He stumbles upon his words as he blasts you with that puppy eyed look of his. All of a sudden you're tempted to kick a puppy in his sides because of all the hair tearing agony you're going through right now; but you wouldn't because bro, that would be so uncool.
Instead you adjust your shades as though it was the most normal thing to do; having a chance meeting with the guy you had loved so fucking hard after so many years in a park with kids on board.
You gestured your free arm at the spot to your right. "You're most welcome to grace me with your presence John," you replied. A relieved smile washes across his considerably handsome face and you catch a flash of his buck teeth. The little troll inside your stomach is starting to churn some serious butterflies and they are threatening to crawl out of your esophagus, corrode it with your stomach acid even, just so that they can see the light of the day that Dave Strider finally lost his cool in public. You feel your fists clench a little harder, your arms wrap around Don a little tighter and the squabbling Blonde is trying to wriggle his way out from your fierce embrace and he starts to cry.
You hear the cry of his baby and turn towards Dave Strider. He looks a little tense in your presence and the little imp in the pit of your stomach is causing a wave of nausea. You bite your lower lip and stand in front of Dave. "Mind if I carry him?" You asked shyly. It's been a while since you've carried a baby in your arms and the sight of Dave's little boy was so heartbreakingly sweet, you wanted to pump his arm in congratulations as much as ripping his arm clean from its joint.
Dave wordlessly passes the boy to you and he immediately stops crying in your arms. You let out a small chuckle and the boy opens his eyes in response to the sound.
You are immediately captivated by his ungodly emerald eyes as they seem to stare into your soul, past your small entity, down 10 000 feet to the earth's core. "Why, look at you," you coo as you prod his chubby cheek lightly. You decide that you are getting hypnotized by this baby's orbs and you take a seat on the cool, stone bench as you submit yourself to the power of the oncoming green tsunami that swallows your body whole. You turn towards Dave and notice that Jenna had already directed her attention towards the blonde man. "What's his name?"
"Don. Be careful around him, he has a pretty strong grip," Dave replies with a small smile quirking his lips as Jenna sits herself in between Dave's lap. You return him your nice, easy smile as Dave starts to part Jenna's hair and Don is gurgling for your attention. "Hey, you little wriggling grub," you coo again, rubbing the tip of your nose against Don's. He lets out a shriek of delight and tugs your hair a little too hard for a baby his age.
You continue to play with Don but you watch Dave from the corner of your eye. You take the sight of him like a thirsty man, drinking in his ruffled, blonde hair, his seating position with the slight slouch and how his deft fingers from working turn tables most of his life twist your daughter's hair into pretty French braids. He was everything you wanted, and your heart throbs in a silent announcement that you just want to wake up next to the man every morning. Many times your eyes flit to his hand but they dart away because you don't want to face the truth of a slim wedding band on the ring finger of his left hand just yet.
You had loved him so much when he touched you; it was akin to his passion setting your skin on fire. He wasn't a man of many words but every time he said that he loved you, you wanted to press his body against you so hard your bones would crack under the pressure and hope that your flesh would fuse together so you can exist as one entity. Many times you craved those three words from him, you wanted to put your hands against the base of his throat and squeeze it out from him because baby, sometimes we can't differentiate between love and obsession.
But you didn't because you'd rather both of you have your hearts stop beating together than have to witness the other leave first.
You had passed your crying baby to the love of your life, along with your acute sense of reality. As you witnessed John cuddling your baby, reality had never been so harsh as to rip the shades from your face, pry the lids apart your squinting eyes adjusting to the change in intensity of light and shoved your head right up to the picture that John Egbert was, and always will be, that one missing puzzle piece to your working yet incomplete family. And that's not all- reality had single handedly delivered the sucker punch to your gut that your foolish mistake had caused him to be the one that got away.
There was never a waking moment you did not lament the empty side of bed every morning since that day but because sometimes, your pride had come been just an inseey bit more important than apologizing, days had blurred to a blinding flash and sometimes, the wails from Don's moist pink mouth helped to stall time for a while. Try as you might, you can never get over it.
The girl- Jenna, was it?- came up to you, licking her ice cream and seemed to take in the sight of you with her chocolate brown eyes behind black framed glasses. "Can you braid my hair?" she asked in a small but firm voice, her question phased more as a demand rather than a request. You figure, why the hell not? You figured she'd look better with her hair braided, rather than the current, slightly messy look she was carrying now. You start by pulling the rubber bands from her hair as gently as possible and used your fingers to comb her smooth, black locks. You parted her hair into 2 sections and started to work your deft fingers on one to make a French braid. Jenna just continues licking her ice cream and you figure, a photo of this scene would be perfect for a pro gay campaign because nothing could top this moment and you don't mind time fucking up for once, jumping unendingly to this moment for eternity because honey, being able to see his face is enough to satisfy your depraved soul.
And of course you can feel his eyes on you. You refuse to admit this out loud, but whenever John laid his eyes on you for a moment, it feels as though your world tears itself from the gravitational pull of the giant orange orb hanging from the corner of the sky and plant itself to the irresistible pull of John Egbert because technically- he is your world. You try not to look his way, fighting hard not to lock eyes with him accidentally because John's facial capillaries would just dilate so much, he'd resemble a ripe tomato and he would avert his eyes from you for a long time. You're addicted to the dizzying thrill you get from his attention and you'd do whatever it takes to squeeze every ounce of pleasure from this encounter.
"So," you started as you finish one braid on Jenna's head. "How's it going?" Come back to me please.
John is quiet for a while and you cautiously peered at him from the corner of your eyes without turning your eyes. Somehow, John could tell you are looking at him and he gazes dead centre into your eyes and holds it there. A slow smile spreads across his face and a flash of moisture passes his eyes but it's over so quick, you don't know if it was your imagination or not.
You hear the question from Dave and your heart skips a beat. You threw your shyness to the wind and you turned towards him and looked, really looked, at Dave properly in ages. You couldn't help the smile that formed but tried your hardest to keep the tree branches behind your eyes from spilling tears. "I'm doing well, you?" Could have been better if we were together.
"Yeah? That's cool to hear. Same old, same old John, same old same old," Dave mused, a smirk quirking a corner of his lips. You swallowed hard because damn, you had missed that smirk as he peered from between your legs, doing unspeakable things on the bed, on the floor, at the back of a car. Yeah, those were the fucking good times. There was a comfortable silence between the both of you as you continued to bounce Don on your lap. You sneak a look at Dave and you see that he was finishing up with Jenna's braids. You can't help the sinking feeling in your chest as it slowly dawns upon you that it'll be time for both of you to leave.
Sure, you can ask him to stay for dinner but it wouldn't be nice if Dave already had a sumptuous, home cooked meal waiting for him. A pretty, blonde wife with freckles dotting her cheeks like constellations, still wearing an apron over her clothes greeting Dave and Don with a kiss on their noses when they reach home. Telling them that dinner will be ready soon, go wash up.
The smell of apple pie wafts past your nose and you inhale deeply the warm, spicy aroma of cinnamon mixed in with the tartness of the apples you had used. You hear the timer tick and you figure that dessert should be ready soon. The sound of Don shrieking in delight reaches your ear and you smile, seeing his expression perfectly in your mind's eye. The timer rings and you jumped a little, but then went on to put your oven mittens to get the pie out.
It smells heavenly, but of course, it was hand made by you, John Egbert so you'd expect no less of the pie. "Dinner's ready!" You call out and you see Dave already walking down the stairs, his shirt a little damp, water droplets still clinging on to his hair. You raised an eyebrow as you set the pie down on the dinner table and Dave coolly shrugs and chuckled quietly. "Little imp's already starting to play with water," he explained. You shake your head amused. Jenna makes her way down calmly and scans the dinner table with an indifferent expression. Her eyes rest upon the pie, fresh from the oven and she looks up to you, the question already expressed in her eyes. "Yes darling, you'll get a scoop of vanilla ice cream with the pie if you help me do the dishes." Jenna gives a small smile and sits herself at the dinner table, swinging her legs to an imaginary rhythm.
"You really outdid yourself today," Dave whispers into your ear as he goes into the kitchen to grab a bottle of apple juice. A delicious shiver crawls down your spine and you try to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks as you remove the apron and place it at the side.
"You- you think so?" you asked meekly when Dave returned, juice in hand. His reply came in the form of a suggestive stroke along your inner thigh when you two sat down. You gave a little 'eep' and Jenna cleared her throat in a way to show that she's noticed. Don gurgles and reaches out for his little spoon cautiously and tries to mimic the feeding action. He succeeds, you note, but not without smearing food all over his chubby cheeks. You stand to feed the baby but Jenna's already there, tending to her half brother. "Don't worry, I got this," she assured with a crooked smile, giving Dave and you the all green to do whatever you wanted under the table and she'll turn a blind eye to it. Sometimes you wonder if it's a blessing or a curse to have such a clever daughter like her.
"Daddy, how do I look?" Jenna's question broke John from his reverie. You've seen that look on him, knew what that look meant, even, and you just didn't have the heart to break his fantasy going on in his mind. John touches one of Jenna's braids; remnants of the broken day dream still clung onto him. He turns to you, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You're good Dave," he praises. You just give a nonchalant shrug but before you could reply, Don starts wailing like a siren, tears bursting from his shut eyes and his face turning splotchy and red. You gesture John to pass him to you and he does so in one fluid movement. You are slightly taken aback, to be honest but then you realize that he has had experience taking care of Jenna.
"What's wrong?" John asks, a frown appeared on his face. You rock Don for a while but he's still screaming his imp head off. You shake your head. "Kid's probably hungry… again. I guess this means I should be heading back. There's no more formula left in the bag," you tilt your head, indicating the baby bag on the stroller. You notice the slight softening of expression from John and he looks like a lost kid for a moment there. "Oh. I see. Well I guess I'll see you around?" he suggests, his voice pitching slightly higher with hope. You strap Don to his stroller and pass him a pacifier. The cries stop, but you know it won't be long before he starts crying again. You turn to John and adjust your sunglasses. "Yea, I guess. Been nice seeing you. Take care. You be a good girl, Jenna," you gave the girl a pat on her head. She looks at you with a calculative gaze, as though trying to figure you out and nods slowly.
"You take care too," John whispered in your ear as he pulls you in for a hug. You are momentarily stunned but you return the hug, swallowing a lump down your throat, thinking you might just lock both you and Don in the car and cry yourselves raw but social services are a bitch you'd rather not deal with again so you think, 'Mmm, better not'.
You two break apart from your brief hug and you cock your head towards the stroller. "I'll be going," again and you quickly turn around to push you and your baby out before you change your mind. Your last image of them was Jenna finishing her ice cream and reaching her hand up slightly to hold her Daddy's hand from your periphery vision and you just keep walking, walking until you reach your car.
You kept driving, driving with what felt like ages on the road, the empty seat beside you a stark, constant reminder of the void in your life which is starting to gnaw you from inside out. When you finally reach home, you whisk little Don away to his nursery, all the while bumbling blindly due to the white hot flash obscuring your vision and hoping you don't hurt your poor boy. You hurry on to prepare his milk formula, trying to live with the shortness of breaths and heaving chest like you've done so, all these years. You've lied to yourself that you have no more feelings for that goof ball of a brunette but seeing him today again at the park demolished your pathetic walls of denial and tears you painstakingly built around your heart.
You love him, you still love him so much you just want to storm up to his house and grab him and just… just make love to him. You just want to tuck your blonde head into his chest and sob your eyes out after you're done and make him comfort the shit out of your life because nothing in the whole damned world seems right without him.
But instead, you're stuck here feeding Don because the only thing you'll admit now is that you don't have the balls to do all of that. Heck maybe you do but baby, one more lie isn't going to matter to you anymore. You just let the tears fall as Don finishes his milk and you pass another smaller bottle of plain water to his tiny mouth and when he's done with that, you pat his back to encourage him to burp so you can tuck him in to sleep.
The clock now read 10 pm and Don was still flitting in and out of sleep. In your state of heightened emotions and oncoming hysteria, you pick your baby up and start rocking him to sleep, checking your temperature to see if there was anything wrong with your precious baby. There was nothing wrong with Don whatsoever and you even burped him, twice. "Come on baby, what's wrong with you?" you start singing randomly. After fifteen minutes, you decide enough is enough. You set Don in your bed, making sure you placed pillows and bolsters around the side to ensure he doesn't roll off suddenly. Rifling through your closet, you finally found the thing you were looking for and you took a quick sniff- however psychotic it seemed from another person's point of view.
It never fails to hit you how a shirt could smell the same after so many years and rather unsurprisingly, John does smell the same all these while. You jog slowly back to Don, who's rather settled down now and tuck him in with John's old shirt. It worked like a charm and soon you're lying down in bed on your side with an arm propped up to support your weight, stroking your baby's forehead as the soft moonlight hit his face, setting it off in an angelic glow.
"I love you," you whispered.
"Daddy I want a bed time story," or at least that's what you think Jenna is saying with toothpaste in her mouth. You passed her a glass of water, using your eyes to signal that you want her to gurgle and clean her mouth out first before speaking. She did so, in such a quick motion you were worried she might choke on the water but she didn't and repeated her question.
You nod and hold out your palm in a 'hold on I'm finishing up soon' motion and quickly brushed your teeth and rinsed it out before bringing your daughter to her room and tucking her in. You notice she still had her braids intact and gave a watery smile at that.
"Daddy? Who's that man you were with at the park?"
"Oh, Dave? Just a friend."
"Just friends? You two seem more than that." Jenna commented casually. You feel something tug at your heart strings but you push your feelings down; after all it wasn't you who called it off. It wasn't as if you didn't try to salvage your relationship, or whatever it was in the first place, you reasoned mentally, but after a period of time, waiting for Dave to just pop that single 'sorry' was getting too laborious a wait and you just… left it there. Now that you think about it, did the both of you really, officially end whatever fling / affair / relationship / sexual commitment you had? But deep down, you knew that exploring that possibility would just be a joke, a poor excuse to open up the locked memories hidden in the dark recesses of your mind and just relieve the emotional rollercoaster all over again.
And since you've just used 'rollercoaster' as a metaphor, you decide that heck, you're gunna go all the way and pull all your thoughts together. Being with Dave at first was a thrill, something you thought was impossible, just like the gravity defying physics and the feeling of when the rollercoaster jerks to life at the start of the ride. Things were going smoothly, you were both so happy and having the time of your lives but that was just the calm before the storm. Before you knew it, you've reached your peak and things just plunged downwards and there was nothing you could do but just sit there and watch, wondering what happened in the process of your happy twosome world. There were certainly very 'up' ups and very 'down' downs but nothing was like what it seemed when you two started out. You keep assuring yourself things would be okay, that it'd be fine eventually and when things seemed like they'd be straightened out… the ride ended.
It was all too sudden for you but then again, you had no idea how Dave and you got together in the first place. But even still, you'd be lying through your big, fat, buck teeth if you even tried to deny that the feelings you once had for him-or still do, you don't know, honestly- were genuine. You could still remember the words you said to him as you walked out of his apartment like some dramatic parting scene in a movie.
"I really want to end this right now. But forgive me; I'm some sick selfish kid so I just wanna keep you by my side longer, even if it means I have to leave you."
"Daddy?" Jenna's monosyllable hauled you out of your past. You gave a one-sided grin and brushed Jenna's hair out of her eyes. "Yea, maybe, but that was a long time ago," you said with as much indifference as possible, drawling out on the 'long'.
"Now what say I tell you the story you've been asking for?" you started before your inquisitive daughter could ask any more questions. Jenna gave an enthusiastic nod and watched your movements intently as you reach beside the bookshelf you and Jenna decided to place by the bed. You pulled out a sizable green hardback book and set it out on your lap. It doesn't have a title but you know this story like the back of your hand. You opened the book and drew in a breath, signaling Jenna that you were starting.
"A young man stands in his bedroom. It just so happens that today, the 13th of April, is this young man's birthday…"
A/N: I cried. A fucking lot.