Hnnnng really short chapter this time guys. It's exam week, sorry! 3

"My name?" Dave asked like he wasn't sure. He knew the boy wanted to know his name. When he nodded, Dave spoke quietly, almost like he wasn't sure it was a good idea to tell anyone. What if this boy read the newspaper? He'd know who Dave was right away. Boy age seventeen sets fire to school gymnasium. That was the headline of the article, and the body spoke of Dave's horrible behaviour and how he was going through community service after the hearing.

The boy looked at him, as if pressing him on. Dave sighed, knowing even if he didn't say his name; the topic would come up again sooner or later.

"My name's Dave. Dave Strider."

The boy smiled, "I'm John Egbert!"

Dave chuckled softly, wondering what kind of name Egbert was. It was certainly fitting for the cute little dorky boy though, Dave thought. "Uh, nice to meet you, I guess?"

John let out a weak chuckle, but this time, he did not burst into a fit of violent coughs straight after. It was just a simple laugh, but the impact of it made Dave smile like he did when he was younger and his childhood innocence was still intact.

"It's nice to meet you too."

"Dave?"

He'd been home for a while now, but his mind was hazy. He'd spent the rest of the day with John instead of doing his job, not that the boy seemed to mind, but he knew he was going to face hell tomorrow for it. Even if he got the chance to turn back time, he wouldn't change anything because he had never connected with someone so deeply before on such an emotional level. They hadn't really even talked all that much while he was there, but Dave really felt like he knew him and he didn't want to let go of a feeling like that.

"Dave."

Even though his probation officer was going to lecture him to hell tomorrow, he didn't care. He felt rather accomplished and really, no matter how strange it seemed, couldn't wait to go back.

"Dave!"

He jumped, quickly turning to face his angry sister. "I've been calling your name. Why didn't you answer me? What are you thinking about?" She was holding a plate of spaghetti and a bottle of water. "You didn't eat supper. Mom told me to bring it up to you."

"Not hungry," Dave said, turning away from her again.

"Please eat, Dave. You're making her start to drink again. I saw her after supper with a bottle of wine. She'd already drunk half of it. Just eat, alright?"

Dave sighed, "Rose, I'm not fucking hungry, okay?"

She frowned and shook her head. "I'll leave it on your dresser in case you change your mind."

Once she'd left, Dave went back to thinking. He thought about the numerous times he'd had to hide on the other end of the curtains when doctors came to check on John. He saw how he squirmed—how uncomfortable he was about it and he wondered why.

Just what kind of illness put John Egbert in that hospital?

Dave stood up and walked over to the food his sister left. He did feel bad about making his mother and sister work so hard for nothing and he certainly felt bad about making his mom drink so much, but there was something inside Dave that had no off button. No matter how terrible he felt, when he was forced to do something he didn't want to; this intense rage just erupted from inside of him. That was the rage that caused him to burn his school gym and it all started the day he was offered that stupid joint.

Jade warned him not to, said he'd be stupid if he did it, but he ignored her. He always thought he would be invincible when it came to peer pressure, but when it was actually thrown upon him with such force; he realized just how hard it was to say no.

He remembered how happy Jade and Rose were back then—even his mom. Before everything happened, before he was offered drugs and before his bro died. Everyone was happy then. They went to the quaint little coffee shop and watched Dave perform with his friends, they went skating and had ice cream… Rose and Jade baked all his birthday cakes; they just had a lot of fun constantly doing things, smiling and laughing. Dave cursed himself for taking their smiles away.

He picked up the plate and fork, sat back down on his bed, figuring he owed them this much, and began to eat. He never really ate his mom's or Rose's food that much; he almost forgot how good it was. He ate until all that remained was a little bit of sauce. Rose would be happy and then maybe he could see her smile again.

If he didn't ruin it, that is. Dave strider almost always found a way to ruin it.