Chapter Text
[Cover] 
You are DIRK STRIDER and you are keeping it totally cool, despite everything you are NOT freaking out…externally.
Recently your older “BRO” died. Technically he was actually your dad but for reasons you've never understood he insisted you call him Bro. Maybe it was an ironic thing, maybe he thought it sounded cooler, maybe he was just uncomfortable being called “DAD”, whatever the reason it doesn't matter now.
What does is that he is dead, very likely murdered. Ok definitely murdered, why else would he have died via a fatal stabbing. Other than suicide but you know it wasn't suicide.
Luckily he left you some money, he wasn't really great with his own money sure but your Bro made sure to save up some for you and your little brother. Shitty porn that got memed online and merch related to the memes apparently was a great way to get your kids a decent college fund. It helped that he split it in a clever way, shitty porn money for himself, so all that merch money went to you and Dave. Granted in a savings account you had no access to until your 18th birthday.
You try to think of any pros to all of this. It'll be nice to be able to use the fridge for its intended purpose now too. And no more Strifes when Bro was home, which was a net positive for Dave.
He also left you alone to raise Dave. Granted he had basically been doing that for years but he was still there, he still did things that you knew you couldn't. Like being an actual adult, and working through Dave's ADHD so he could finish his homework on time.
It's only been a week since his death, yesterday was the funeral. You already know you can't raise him alone, even if you felt confident in the mere idea, you were 16. Legally speaking you couldn't raise him alone, the moment social services realized a 16 year old was raising his 13 year old brother someone would be sent in to pick you both up. Besides you can't support him emotionally, Bro couldn't really either…Strider problems.
Dave deserves better.
You realized all this after the funeral.
It probably isn't the best time to move house, but there weren't many other options.
You mull over where you two can go, family options are very limited. Your mother had abandoned you with Bro before you were old enough to remember, he said she only stuck around two months after you were born, didn't want to raise a child with a man she was pretty sure was gay (you think he might have been Bi but he did seem to much prefer men to women). You didn't even have her contact information so she was out. Bro had no biological siblings and he spent his whole childhood and teen years in the foster system so he probably wouldn't have known anyways. That really only left one option left.
Bro had met Romi Lalonde you don't even know how long ago, from the way the two talked during one of your yearly visits in early December it might have been while both were in the foster system. That always made it a bit weird to you that apparently while drunk one night they slept together and several months later (in fact barely over 7) you had two half siblings. The two agreed to each raise one and meet up at least once a year for the twins' birthdays. Plural given the 13 minute difference around midnight.
It wasn't the most solid plan, moving up to New York state and hoping for housing but it was worth a shot. You wish you could at least get a message to Roxy right now but you two never exchanged phone numbers and in a moment of misfortune your Bro died right before paying the wifi bill so you couldn't access Pesterchum. You wonder for a moment if Jane and Jake have noticed your unusually long absence.
It took you and Dave two days to pack up your belongings. Neither of you bother to bring furniture nor most of Bro's old belongings. You haul them into Bro's beat up pick up truck before saying goodbye to a life you felt you wouldn't miss as much as you should.
Just one last thing before you leave.
You turn to Dave who sits in the front passenger seat, the back holding all the electronics you two own. You hand him a pair of Aviators, you put a pair of very anime looking glasses on yourself.
“Bro won't need them anymore. Thought you'd like them over those shitty plastic ones, probably better for your eyes anyways.” You try to sound sincere or comforting, you fail at both, instead coming off as flat.
Dave always admired Bro's back up glasses. Even if he never said anything. You know he'll appreciate it no matter how you delivered the statement.
Dave held the glasses for a moment before putting them on. “Thanks.” his voice cracks slightly.
You begin the journey, unsure of how you feel as Huston shrinks in the rear view mirror. Two days minimum wouldn't be enough time to figure out how you felt.
==> Be Roxy
You are now ROXY LALONDE and you are absolutely freaking out, and sobbing, and a bit tipsy. Ok not tipsy, tipsy was 2 days ago. You are drunk.
Very recently your MOM died and you are not in fact handling it well and it makes you feel awful. You wish you could comfort your younger sister right now, you think even if she hadn't locked herself in her room though Rose would have no interest in talking to your drunk ass. You try to respect her need for space but…fuck your mom was murdered less than a week ago, you both need each other right now more than ever, you know this…she…Rose is a psyche nerd she has to know as well right?
You sigh and take another swig from the bottle, not bothering to mix anything. The burn of the vodka going down your throat is a welcome additional distraction as you scroll through house listings. You hate to do this to Rose but you've looked at the numbers, after the funeral you'll have enough to live in the house for just under a year at best, and that was being extremely optimistic and assuming no emergencies happen. It's just too expensive even if you get a job. And even then you're barely 16, you wouldn't be able to work full time just for minimum wage that wouldn't even cover half of the expenses.
Royalties would at least pay for a cheaper smaller house. You already thought it was kind of cool that your Mom got to publish her astrological findings, having a mom that was a scientist and a published author was really cool in fact. But you'd never been so grateful for the monetary side of that until now, seeing as it was your only income until you could access the savings she left you when you turned 18.
Damn here you were barely allowed to drive and now raising your 13 year old sister on your own. Sure you already did a lot, Mom worked long hours and was usually drunk during her time off. A workaholic in the day, alcoholic at night, you laugh slightly at the thought.
Despite barely being trustworthy with cooking you tried your best to make sure Rose wasn't stuck with a diet of oatmeal for dinner most nights, granted this mostly meant ramen or scrambled eggs and microwave meals because that's all you could make but it was something. The house was already in disarray, Mom always kept it clean, like a drunk house keeper, right down to the fact she barely noticed anyone around her by the time she was drunkenly stumbling around the house as she vacuumed .
And of course she also homeschooled you and Rose in the mornings. Fuck you definitely can't take over homeschooling duties.
You wish you could get in touch with Dirk, he hasn't replied to you in days. You really need moral support right now. You also think Dave should know what happened.
And now you're wondering if you'll even be able to celebrate Rose and Dave's birthdays together. The past Summer wasn't one where both families met up for camping, or to go to a theme park, or a resort, so it would be the only time the two would have seen each other all year…you take another swig, this is getting too depressing and you're thinking too much, and those thoughts are too loud.
A few hours later and you're sobbing. You miss your Mom, you know you can't raise Rose on your own, your Mom's alcoholism doesn't encourage you in the slightest. If anything it makes you more conviced you'll fuck this up, your alcoholism is worse, you know it is. Rose deserves so much better.
You feel the couch shift next to you, Rose must have finally left her room. You both sit in silence for a moment.
“ ‘m srry Rosie.” You mumble.
“I-” Rose pauses for a moment, “I'm sorry too.”
“No Rosieee you have nothin t be srry about, I fcuked up n you're a stuck wiff me now and…you're juss a kid.” You don't know how much of what you said was even coherent between your crying and slurred speech.
Rose must have been choosing her words carefully because her reply was slow and she was pausing constantly, “you…we needed each other and I locked myself away…and you…you're not an adult yourself.” Comforting words really weren't her thing, heck half of it sounded almost rehearsed.
Hugs were something Rose struggled with as well but she still gave you a very awkward hug, somehow they were more awkward than your moms had been when she was sober. Still you pulled her in for a proper hug, gently rubbing your hand on her upper back in a soothing motion.
You don't think you had heard her cry once since the news was broken to you two. Now here Rose was finally breaking down and crying. You both needed this. You both know it.
Days in the future but not many
It's been 2 days since Rose stopped hiding in her room, tomorrow is the funeral, you're still house hunting, and you are still tipsy but you're just tipsy, not drunk like you've been the past few days.
You suppose you'll take the small wins you can manage.
Maybe once all this is over you'll adopt a new cat. Frigglish had been run over by a car just a few months ago, that seemed to be the way you usually lost pets, Jaspers had died that same way 8 years ago.
And it would be nice to have another cat, a black cat because your family always gets black cats. Or at least Mom always got them.
Maybe a break on pet finder would be nice, better than looking at houses in Ohio, god you hope you don't have to move to fucking Ohio, Cedar Point and Six Flags would be the only plus. Which puts it two points ahead of Kentucky you guess.
You think of your check list for what you're looking for home wise. A house that has at least 2 bedrooms in a LGBTQ+ friendly state, in a town or city where you can afford to stay for a minimum of 5 years, until Rose is 18.
It's a short list and you don't know why you're being so picky, your best guess is that you want what is best for Rose. You don't think you're what's best for her but you don't exactly have any other options. Your Mom was a foster kid who never got adopted, you never even met your bio dad, your Mom says she met him on a business trip and that he almost definitely doesn't know you exist.
There's Devon Strider, Rose's bio dad but you doubt he'd be able to take you two in.
That's it you're getting your mind off of this with pet finder names. And you are so glad you did, so far you've found Grilled Cheese, Armrest, The Ottoman Empire, Arsenic Spatula, and Fortnite Fails #413.
So worth it.
Then the door bell rings. You quickly get up to get the door and see that Rose beat you by a few seconds and…Dirk and Dave? And…no Bro? You are very fucking confused.
“Hey.” He says.
==> Be Dirk a few minutes in the past
You are once again DIRK but 5 minutes earlier. After two days of driving and camping out in the front seats you've almost made it to your destination. You shake Dave awake. knowing his problems with insomnia you feel a twinge of guilt but you're almost at the driveway and would rather him have a moment to wake up than not.
You wonder if his insomnia is caused by his ADHD or if maybe it's hereditary…can insomnia be hereditary, you frankly haven't had much sleep lately either so you think you'll ask Roxy after explaining what happened. They'll probably know.
Dave looks a bit lost when he wakes up, but then again he had since you left.
“Are we there?” He asked groggily.
“Almost, just pulling up now.” You explain.
You park at the end of the driveway and you both get out. It's a slight trek to the door which will hopefully help Dave wake up a bit more.
You pause for a moment when you get to the front door before ringing the doorbell. Hoping someone will answer.
Soon enough the door is opened by Rose with Roxy quickly following behind.
“Hey.” You say.
“Dirk!?” Roxy says in shock, “where have you been? I've been trying to contact you since Mom died and-”
You cut them off. “You're Mom died?” disbelief just barely audible in your voice.
Roxy nodded.
“Shit.” Maybe not the nicest reaction you could have had. “when?”
“A week ago today. Her funeral’s tomorrow.”
“Bro died a little over a week too.” you didn't mean to bring that up, not so soon. But the words spilt from your mouth like water after getting your face frozen at the dentist.
“Oh…that makes sense…like why you're here…’n stuff.” Roxy says with a nervous chuckle.
You nod this time.
It dawns on you and likely Roxy as well how uncomfortable it is having this conversation in a doorway so Roxy guides you in and offers you a coffee. Rose and Dave quickly disappear into the house. Probably to talk about the two of you more than the deaths of their parents.
You and Roxy discuss recent events in more detail as you drink your coffees. Your coffee is sweetened yet still strong while Roxy drinks what you have dubbed ‘Jet fuel’, a black coffee with a minimum of 3 espresso shots (you weren't paying attention to them making it though so there could very well be 6 espresso shots).
You agree to attend the funeral tomorrow. It wasn't a hard decision to reach, Roxy barely knew Bro and they said they would have attended if they'd known, you might not have been close to their mom but Roxy is your best friend and Dave and Rose and your little siblings so regardless of how horrible of a moral support you are, you'll go as support.
You offer to help tidy up the kitchen area, neither of you are very clean people but maybe you two can two halves of a whole idiot this kitchen clean.That's when you find a note from their Mom, hidden in the kitchen under a dry dish towel you think Rose knit.
All it read was the address of a house somewhere in Maple Valley, Washington.
Roxy typed the home into google. It was currently for sale, a 3 bedroom house in a nice looking neighborhood.
“Heh, I guess at least one of our parents had a contingency plan.” You say.