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The thing about kicked dogs is, some are smart about it and others are fucking dumb.
The smart ones are smart enough to figure out that it's going to happen again and when it inevitably does, they lash out so that maybe they don't get hurt again. They know what's up. And sure, those are the ones that don't get adopted out of shelters and get put down, but at least they don't kicked anymore, and there's a freedom in that, isn't there?
The dumb ones don't learn a damn thing and go back time after time, hoping for a pat on the head only to get a boot in the fucking teeth.
Chris is one of the dumb ones.
All his life, he'd gone back to Auggie, time after time, hoping, begging, for a scrap of anything, any bare thread bit of love, only to get a boot in the fucking teeth. Up until he put that bullet through his dad's head.
This time will be different, Chris tells himself. New dimension, new him. He's not going to fuck up this time. He's been putting in the work, trying to be better, and now the universe has rewarded him with an opportunity to really put it to use.
He treats it like a mission recon. He digs around, finds out anything he can about this world's Chris so that he doesn't raise any suspicion. The best-case scenario is that he just kind of…slides in and keeps on trucking with no one the wiser. Their Chris was apparently somehow a worse piece of shit than him, so he's hoping that everyone will just be grateful that they, unknowingly, have the better Chris now. Just like how he has the better family now.
It seems to be working for the most part. He's been in this dimension full-time for a couple of weeks now and any misstep, missing piece of context or history, is usually shook off on Chris' part with an embarrassed smile and shrug and it seems to be good enough. Auggie and Keith shake their heads at him with good humor, and they all go about their day.
Sometimes, if he thinks about the semantics of the whole thing too much, his brain will start hurting. So he just doesn't. He was never really that great with thinking anyway. No loss there.
The same happens, but with his heart, if he thinks about his Emilia, Ads, Adrian, and Economos too long. But leaving them was the best for everyone, so he stops thinking about that too and just folds up the hurt and stuffs it down deep in his chest.
What doesn't change at all in this new dimension is how his heart leaps up into his throat when Auggie calls out to him. He's still a dumb dog. The prospect of a heat pat, maybe even a scratch behind the ears, is the worth the risk of a kick to the head.
He quickly retraces his steps to where Auggie is half inside the refrigerator, digging around. "Dad? You need something?"
"Yeah." Auggie grunts, emerging with an arm full of food and jars. "Wanted to see if my son had a few minutes to eat lunch with me."
Jesus wept.
And to think that there was time where he would have had to pay good money for someone to say those words to him, not to mention also suck a dick or two.
"Sure." Chris says a bit too quickly for it to be normal. "Let me just text Emilia."
Auggie snorts, but it doesn't sound the same as when Chris' Auggie would do it. This sound is softer, affectionate. It fills Chris' chest with a warmth that still feels out of place to him.
"Christ. You're like a lovesick puppy." Auggie says as he dumps the things from the fridge onto the counter. "I love to see it though. She's a good girl. Don't feel like you have to hang around for my benefit. Go see your girl."
There's not any of the usual malice that Chris is used to behind the words. They seem honest. Like a dad that's truly happy that his son wants to spend time with his girlfriend.
It's freaky.
"No, it's fine." Chris insists, shooting off a text to Emilia that she responds graciously to. As much as he wants to run off and go see her again, how can he pass up an opportunity to be with his dad? He settles onto a stool at the kitchen island, committing before Auggie changes his mind and kicks him out. "I've got time."
Auggie smiles at him, pleased, and if Chris was a dumb dog in real life, he feels like his tail would be wagging a mile a minute. It's like his heart has a boner or something. Christ, it's pathetic.
Auggie steps over to the bread box on another counter and pulls out a loaf. He cuts off the heel and hands it over to Chris. "Try that. It's Susan's."
Chris bites into and -- oh, yeah, that's some good fucking bread. "Hell, yeah. Is that the broad at the bakery that has a crush on you?"
Auggie groans and rolls his eyes. "I don't know why you and your brother keep saying that shit."
Chris grins around another bite. God damn, the crunch on this thing is on point. "Because it's true. She wants some of that blue dragon."
He waggles his eyebrows and Auggie laughs. "Get out of here. I'm too old for that shit."
"Nah, man." Chris tells him as he finishes his piece. Auggie cuts off another and hands it to him. He watches, amused, as Chris eats it with gusto.
“Is that going to mess up your mackerels?”
Chris snorts, sending little bits of dropped crust flying. "It's macros. And yeah, probably, but that's okay. Nothing an extra gym sess won't fix. This is worth it."
Chris wants to take that last part back as soon as it's out of his mouth. It's a bit too honest, too raw, and it makes Auggie's face do something funny, like he's surprised to hear it.
It's moments like this one, though, that makes Chris feel less sorry than he probably should about accidentally killing their Chris.
Come on, did that piece of shit not even want to sit down and have lunch with his own dad? Chris couldn't even begin to tell you want he would have given to have a moment like this with his own dad.
Their Chris obviously didn't know how good he had it. He didn't deserve his Auggie and Keith.
He feels like a little boy as he watches Auggie cut the rest of the loaf in half and start to open up meat and cheese packages. He even has the urge to hop onto the counter and kicks his legs like how they do on TV. His dad would have smacked him over the head if he'd done something like that. He thinks this Auggie would just laugh and shoo him down.
Chris stays in his chair, like the grown man that he is, just utterly content to watch his new dad make him a sandwich. Always happy to lap up any scrap of attention that's thrown his way.
"You know," Auggie says, breaking the silence they've fallen into. He puts the deli meat on top of the bread. "I've been wanting to talk to you about something.
Just like that, Chris' heart plummets to his feet and he braces for the boot.
But Auggie simply says, "I’m proud of you, son."
Chris blinks. "What?"
"I know that you've had a tough time of things these past few years." Auggie continues. "But these past couple of weeks, I can see a change in you, Chris. I can that you're trying, and I respect that."
Tears rush to Chris' eyes, hot and unwanted, and he desperately blinks them back. It nearly blows him away though, the casual, almost too easy way that Auggie could say something like that. All while spooning mayo onto bread like it's fucking nothing.
“Thanks, dad.” Chris finally chokes out.
Auggie nods as he layers some cheese and lettuce over the meat. "I can give credit where credits due. You're around more, nicer, sober. You must be doing something right if Emilia took you back."
Just not the right one, Chris' stupid brain thinks out of nowhere, but he shakes the thought away.
"I'm trying, dad." He tells Auggie, even though he knows that the man doesn't even know the half of it. Even though there's a still a pang of guilt, and loneliness, and fucking neediness every time he calls this Auggie, dad. "I really am."
“I know, son. I see you.”
They fall back into comfortable silence and Chris watches as Auggie puts tomatoes on the sandwich before closing the bread and squishing it down flat.
Chris hates tomatoes, the slimy little fuckers, but he doesn't say a word about. Because at the end of the day, he'd choke down a million tomato sandwiches to keep this. To have a big brother who's alive, and loves him, and watches his back. To have an Emilia who loves him back and isn't afraid to admit it. To have a dad that makes him sandwiches just because he wants to, just because he loves his son like dads are supposed to do. Because he may even think that Chris is deserving of his love and isn't just a flaccid waste of his sperm.
Chris can't stop the new tears that silently fall down his face and if Auggie finds anything suspicious about it, he keeps it to himself. He just walks around the island and puts the plate with the sandwich that he made him and a Coke spelled with two 'K''s down in front of him.
He smiles down at him and chucks his knuckles up under his chin, gently making Chris look up at him.
Those icy blue eyes somehow look exactly like his dad's but completely different. His dad's were sharp, cut with hate. This Auggie's are kind, soft around the edges.
"I love you, son." Auggie says, as easy as breathing. "Keep up the good work."
"Thanks, dad." Chris says, his voice weak, nearly a whisper. "I love you too."
He wonders if this part will ever get easier. He wonders how long it'll take for him to be about to say those words without flinching, without bracing himself for the boot.
Auggie just smiles and jerks his head towards the living rom. "I know your girl is waiting, but want to watch some TV with your old man while we eat?"
"Fuck, yeah." Chris says without hesitation and goes and eats lunch with his dad, like he belongs there.
Because he fucking does.