A/N: I've been listening to a lot of Nino Ferrer lately. Have you ever heard of him? I listened to him with my grandmother when I was very young, and I recently fell in love with him all over again; I just had to somehow incorporate his music into this, so I apologize in advance for that since he has absolutely nothing to do with anything.

Anywho, this fanfic is far more popular than I thought it would be! Thank you to everyone who follows and favourites, especially those who review!

I'm working on making the chapters longer. I've noticed my chapters tend to be very short and dull.

==Be one of the newly-introduced broads

You are now one of the newly-introduced…broads. Rose Lalonde, to be precise, and you are very confused by your brothers' new lodgers. Neither of them ever mentioned anything about anyone moving in, and if anything you'd say that they wouldn't invite anyone to live with them in a million years - they can barely handle living with one other person, let alone three. However, they seem rather happy and comfortable with these two boys you've been informed are John and Jake.

You don't mean to keep staring at them so judgingly, but it's a habit. Luckily they don't seem to notice; otherwise you'd make a rather shabby first impression.

Both Jake and John, you notice, are very small and skinny. Unhealthily so. Their postures are tense and hunched over; as if subconsciously protecting themselves from something and you quickly notice that they are wearing your brothers' clothes. They flinch ever so slightly at every sudden movement and noise, and they move their heads quickly and jerkily. The clothes thing can be taken two ways, but the others certainly can't.

Your guess is that these two boys were abused something awful wherever they were before Dave and Dirk let them move in, and they certainly haven't got over it yet. Do your brothers know? If not, you'll have to warn them. One tiny thing could trigger them and result in something drastic.

When you finally look away from Jake and John, you come face-to-face with Dave, who is half-glaring at you in an exasperated way. He stands up quite suddenly and hands his half-finished plate to a hungry-looking Jade, who starts eating immediately. He jerks a finger at the door to the kitchen and leaves the room. You follow him a moment later, fully prepared for casual, laid-back sibling banter.

Not.

==Be Dave

You are now Dave, and you are currently leaning against the kitchen island facing your stepsister, who is perched elegantly on the countertop opposite you. Her lips, stained a very dark purple ("The colour is called 'Scorched'" she had yelled when you'd made a comment about it), are pressed in a thin line and her violet eyes, fringed with long false eyelashes and thick-winged eyeliner, are narrowed curiously.

"You didn't tell me about anyone moving in" she says calmly, her voice even and firm. It's a challenge, to defeat her. Your conversations tend to take this turn into an extremely passive aggressive, would-be argument and you consider it quite normal, if pretty annoying. Her arms are supporting her on the countertop, a long, neatly-painted, black nail that's probably a falsie is tapping on the hard surface and her back is dead straight. Intimidation; a technique she's mastered over everyone but you.

You cross your arms over your chest calmly over your chest, squaring up to her. You're pretty tall and intimidating at 6'1'', but she's not far behind you at 5'11''. "It was pretty sudden. Besides, I don't have to tell you every little thing that goes on in my life."

Rose quirks a perfectly-shaped eyebrow and it disappears under her platinum blonde fringe that could do with a cut. "I wouldn't say two boys moving in with you was 'little'."

You shrug your shoulders. "My first point still stands."

"Indeed it does. Which brings the questions 'how did you meet them?' and 'why did you let them move in with you?' forwards. Anyone you'd be close enough with to let them move in with you, I'd know too. Who are Jake and John? When did you meet them? How?"

You're undeterred by the string of questions she throws at you. "I don't have to answer your questions."

Her lips curl downwards. "You found them on the streets, didn't you?"

You should've known Rose would see right through you. A brief sigh of defeat is all you reward her with, but that's enough for her. A smirk graces her lips, and she doesn't seem to be surprised by the fact that you picked two boys off the streets in the dead of night.

"I won't bother to tell you how utterly moronic you are – I think you already know – but I will say that I'll be more than happy to help you look after Jake and John in their current condition."

It's your turn to raise an eyebrow, and you shake your head in confusion.

"Hm. I figured you wouldn't know. Jake and John were abused quite terribly wherever they were before the streets and you…at least, according to what I've seen. Do look after them, won't you? Text or call me whenever you need me. I can either come over or just give you instructions and advice, I don't mind." Rose's smile is sweet and you can't help giving her a smirk. She hugs you quickly and waves briefly at you, "I better get going. Call me whenever you need me, okay?"

"Sure thing, sis."

You walk into the lounge just in time to see Jade's dark brown hair disappear through the doorway just before the door swings shut. The apartment is plunged into silence.

Dirk is sat on the very edge of the futon watching the telly, and Jake and John have shuffled back closer to each other. You click your fingers and manage to capture Dirk's attention long enough to tell him to get in the kitchen, and he does so while you go back to the position you assumed when you were talking to Rose. Dirk strolls in casually and starts making himself a cuppa, sparing you a glance to show he's listening.

"Jake and John were abused."

He hums. "I know, Jake told me. Rose tell you anything else?"

You're mildly surprised by how casual he is, but consider the fact that he's most likely only keeping up a careless façade and is, in fact, freaking the fuck out. He's still facing away from you, so you have no hope of reading his emotions. You give him a melodramatic exasperated sigh, and he chuckles and barks a meaningless insult. Turning so your arms are folded on the countertop in front of you, you rest your head on them and recite an abridged version of you and Rose's conversation. By the end, he's halfway through his tea.

"Okay, we know a lot more now, but we still don't know much. If they ran away and hid on the streets for three years, then their father would never be charged for what he did. You think he's still chasin' after 'em?" Dirk mutters, hushing his voice as much as possible to hide your conversation from the boys in the other room.

"Probably;" you reply, "that would explain why they were so reluctant to come with me."

You both fall silent for a while, until Dirk shrugs and puts his empty mug in the sink. "Ugh, my head hurts. I'mma go take a shower and think about stuff."

And with that, he leaves. You consider doing the washing up (the pile of dirty silverware and china is growing rapidly) but quickly decide against it; Dirk'll do it if it gets too much, he's such a clean freak, so you won't waste your energy doing stuff you don't have to do. You decide to exit through the hallway instead of the lounge, as you feel Jake and John could do with a little time to relax a bit and you make your way through the hall and around to get to the games room. However, when you pass the lounge on your way, you freeze.

Is that…singing?

You shuffle backwards and lean in closer to the door, and, sure enough, you hear what sounds like Jake singing. You quickly establish that the song isn't English – it's…French, you think? Anyway, he's a surprisingly good singer, despite the fact you haven't got a fucking clue what the words mean. The song is so fast you doubt you could make it out if it were English. You can hear John giggling softly, and, eventually, joining in. His voice is unconfident and wavering, but you have to admit that you love it anyway. You're quite surprised that they both seem to know the words but heart, considering they're in a completely different language. In the entire song, the only words you manage to decipher are "et la radio". You never payed much attention in French class, but you payed enough attention to know that that means "and a radio". You haven't got a clue why they're singing about radios, but you're not gonna question them. The song's actually pretty catchy; you'll look up the original later.

((A/N: The song they're singing is Les Cornichons by Nino Ferrer. I really recommend listening to it, he's a really great singer and the song is awesome – it's all about food! It is French, though, so I guess if you don't know French it's not great…although the tune is still cool and you could probably find one with English translations if you look!))

They don't really stop at the end of the song, they seem to just kind of transition into a different song and carry on singing in that hushed, joking way. You take a wild guess and say that singing like this is a way of comforting themselves and each other.

That's…actually really sweet.

((Did someone say timeskip? No? Okay. TIIIIIIIIIMESKIIIIIIIIIIIP. Whoops, someone said it. Okay. Yay. Let's go.))

Continue to be Dave Strider

You continue to be Dave Strider, and you therefore continue to be sat at your desk in your bedroom, listening to that song that Jake and John were singing a couple hours ago. You found out that the singer is a guy named Nino Ferrer, who is an Italian-French singer, actor and jazz musician. His style is pretty different than what you usually listen to, but you're quite like him. Maybe even enough to download his music legally.

You've been sat up in your room for a few hours without disturbance from anyone, and you're kind of surprised when there's a timid knock at the door. Well, it's not Dirk – he'd just burst in. That has resulted in many awkward situations but that's not what we're talking about. Wait, what are we talking about?

Oh, right, door.

"Wha-t?"

The door opens slowly and John is stood there looking like a rabbit caught in headlights. You spin your desk chair round and yank your headphones down around your neck, looking surprised but quickly catching yourself. "Oh, hey, man. Sup?"

Again, he seems surprised at being addressed fondly, but he offers a nervous smile. "Um, can..can I…hang out up here? W-with you?"

The way he's talking makes it seem like he's asking for the world and sixteen diamante ponies or some shit, and you guess that for him, he is. You give him the tiniest of smiles, and gesture to your games consoles, comic books and other crap strewn around the room, "sure! Make yourself at home, and help yourself to whatever you want."

You turn back to your computer, but keep an eye on him (god bless your shades) as he slowly crosses the room and perches nervously on the very edge of your bed, seemingly making himself as small as possible. He doesn't touch anything or talk – he barely dares to breathe – but he seems almost…happy? Like he's content with this silence, this nothingness, as long as he has a positive presence.

You turn your computer off.

He looks at you in surprise when you stand up, as if he had suddenly been snapped out of a daydream. You make your way across the room and sit down next to him, but the silence remains.

"What's your favourite colour?"

He turns to you, looking surprised and mildly confused, but answers you anyway.

"I like blue. And green. And…I think I'm starting to like red a lot, too."

He smiles ever so slightly, his pale cheeks turning a light pink, and you smirk.

"My favourite's red. But I gotta say, blue's pretty sweet."

His cheeks flush, and he covers his face with his hands and bursts into hushed giggles. You can't help but let a smile slip for the shortest moment. When he looks up again, you offer another kind smirk.

"C'mon, tell me about yourself" you say, shuffling backwards and leaning against the wall. He only does the same when you offer he do so "I'm curious."

He shrugs his shoulders. "There isn't much to tell. I didn't have much time to develop an interesting character…"

He offers you another small smile, this one forced.

"Then how about I tell you about me?"

He nods. "Okay."

"Okie-doke. My full name is David Elizabeth Strider – parents never gave me a middle name, so my eldest bro thought it'd be hilarious to make it 'Elizabeth'. I moved into this building with my brother Dirk when I was thirteen under the supervision of my bro's friend Doc Scratch, who is also the landlord. He gives us a pretty big discount on the rent. My stepsisters, Rose and Roxy that you met earlier, live in a flat about a mile away. They spend a lot of time hanging with us here, along with me and Dirk's friends. Talking about them, they'll probably be here in a bit…Anyway, uh, my favourite food is pizza and I really, really love apple juice."

Your ranting makes little sense, but John seems content with simply the vague noise of your voice and the enthusiasm dominating your tone.

Yeah…

This is nice.

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to finish, I've been feeling very, very ill lately. And I've also been distracted with Supernatural and all the new books I bought but shhhhh…

Please review, dears! UvU