Striders in mourning

[plushaeusrumpified]

WHO: Bro Strider, Dirk Strider.
TONE: ANGST. Strider Angst. ALL THE SADS.
RATING: PG-13ish for Strider language
WHEN: May 14, evening
WHERE: Strider House, Soho
WHAT: Dirk's dad, Bro's brother, died. Bro went to make sure Dirk wasn't put in a foster care and now he's moving in with them.
STATUS: Ongoing
-
The news that Dirk's dad had died was pretty much the most unexpected news Bro could have received. And the absolute worst. He was only a few years older than Bro, for fucks sake! You just... didn't die, when you were still that young. It wasn't supposed to happen, so why the hell did it happen? It just didn't make any sense at all to Bro.


And he was a complete emotional rollercoaster. He and his brother hadn't talked in a while. It suddenly wasn't making any sense to Bro why that was even a thing. They lived like five fucking miles from each other, so why the hell didn't they talk more? Why the fuck was it that he hadn't seen Dirk in... fuck, he didn't even know how long? Yeah. They'd had their issues. A lot of them, to be honest. Bro had been resentful to his entire family ever since graduation. Sure they didn't leave him with nothing, but he didn't have them, and that felt a little like nothing. And that was why he'd been resentful over his brother. Because he wasn't a wizard, he could have the family that had left Bro.

But that seemed like a stupid reason to end up not talking to him. It wasn't as if Bro was unhappy anyway. He had Dave, and their life was pretty goddamn good; not the most normal, but what was the point in being normal, if it was boring? So why the fuck had he thrown away a relationship with his brother just over some stupid, petty reasons? They hadn't felt so petty before, though. Especially not in the occasional argument he'd had with his brother. Those stupid arguments that seemed so pointless now.

Bro had never dealt with death before, and it was turning out to be really hard. And he didn't actually have anyone he could talk to. Except Dave, and they'd only had a few minutes back at Hogwarts to say goodbye. He wasn't used to feeling this needy and vulnerable, nor was he used to feeling this much regret. And a part of him felt angry over it. He was a Strider, he wasn't supposed to be feeling this way. He was supposed to put on his best pokerface and pretend that he wasn't feeling anything at all. So why wasn't he doing that? Why was he letting the guilt and regret consume him?

Maybe it was because he was staring at the one person in the world who still reminded him most of his brother. Dirk was making it really, really hard. He hadn't seen the kid in years, they'd always joked about how Dirk could be Bro's son because of how much he resembled Bro. But at that moment, he'd never looked more like his father, and that was really hard for Bro to handle. But he didn't blame Dirk for that- it would be a really stupid thing to blame him for, and it wasn't a thing he would allow himself to resent him for. No, if anything he felt... oddly comforted by it. As if his brother wasn't entirely gone. And he wasn't. A piece of him was still right there in front of Bro.

But it still hurt like a bitch knowing how much he'd fucked up by not keeping in contact with his brother. He didn't know what to do with all of these feelings, he wasn't used to them in the least. They swarmed inside of him like a hurricane and made him feel simultaneously nauseous and annoyingly like he wanted to cry. There was a perpetual lump in his throat that no amount of swallowing could get rid of. It just mixed with his other frustrations and made him angry. Angry and sad and fuck he didn't know what to do. Dirk hadn't said a word since he'd gone to get him, and Bro didn't know what to say to him. Luckily he hadn't really needed to say anything.

Not until they'd made it to the apartment, finally. He twisted the key in the lock and opened the door into the dark, quiet apartment. It was dark now, so he had to navigate a few feet in the dark to navigate the lightswitch. Everything was turned off, since he was staying at Hogwarts, so it was entirely pitch black. Bro knew the inside of the apartment better than the back of his hand though, so he found the light switch with ease and flicked it. The lights came on in their fairly small apartment. It was a little messy still, despite the fact it hadn't seen life in a few weeks. The smuppets were enchanted though, so they probably moved around and ruffled the place up a little bit when they got horny. Luckily, they were also enchanted not to do that around kids and/or muggles. And Dirk counted as a kid and a muggle, so there would be no perverted puppet on puppet action for a while.

He stepped further into the apartment and came to rest against the back of the futon, arms folded against his chest as his eyes darted over the floor slowly, before coming to rest on Dirk who trailed behind a little. Bro opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't know what to say. Dirk wasn't initiating anything, and Bro legitimately didn't know what to say. He closed his mouth, swallowed, and tried again. "Uh... Yeah, this is our place." Idiot, he knew that, he'd been there before. God, you're so stupid. "I mean, make yourself... at home..." He trailed off. God, he was so stupid, he had no idea what to say at fucking all. But he knew he needed to say something. If he didn't say something, if he just left Dirk to his own devices and disappear somewhere, he would officially be the worst person in the world.

But he really did just want to disappear, in a way. The thought of going out and getting sloppy drunk seemed like a really good idea. He couldn't do that, though. He had to say something to Dirk to make it better, because if he himself was hurting this badly, then he could only imagine how Dirk must have been feeling. Bro just didn't know what to say. He was never good at talking about feelings, especially his own. It was only recently that he actually realized it was okay to actually maybe hug sometimes, that it didn't make him a total pussy. But hugging seemed so far from talking at the moment. Maybe if he wasn't so upset about it, it would've been easier.

Then the idea that maybe the fact they had lost the same person, and could help each other, crossed his mind. That had to make it easier, right? They were both going through the same thing, so of course they needed to talk to each other. They could get through it together. But that realization didn't make it easier for him to open his mouth and say something. It just clawed at the wound and made it hurt more, because Dirk had lost him too. It made Bro feel horrible. He swallowed again. "Dirk...I...Are you alright, man?" he finally managed to get out, his voice quiet but audible in the silence of the apartment.

Comments

[givesyouaboner]

The moment the broadcast came on the television, Dirk knew it was over. There was no going back. His world was crushed, forever changed, just by a few words.

We pardon this interruption for a special emergency broadcast.

Dirk had been in the kitchen with Lil’ Cal, microwaving chicken nuggets again for dinner. It seemed that it was all there was in the freezer for his meals. He became distracted when he heard the emergency sounds from the television. He was drawn into the living room, only to stare at the repeating footage—that of salvaging the remains of a wreckage.

British Airlines Flight 7629, with service from London to New York, went down earlier this evening in the North Atlantic, approximately three hundred kilometres south of Iceland. The cause has yet to be determined. Among casualties was British-American film director David Strider.

David Strider.

David Strider.

Dad.

No words could express Dirk’s intense shock, his intense grief. At first, he couldn’t believe that it actually happened at all. He simply sat on the floor in front of the sofa, running his fingers through Lil’ Cal’s hair. And waited.

He waited for his father to call home, to assure him that he’d arrived safely, as he always did. The hours droned on and there was nothing. The phone never rung. The newscasters never made any mention of survivors, only the growing number of confirmed casualties.

He was truly alone now. Dad was never coming back to him, never to bring back a cheesy souvenir for Dirk to treasure. Never to make another empty promise that sure thing, kiddo, you can come next time.
Dirk should have cried, should have screamed. He should have mourned like the characters in his father’s films. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He was stunned silent. At one point, he picked up the phone, determined to call his Uncle Dirk. He didn’t know what he’d say, but surely the older man would come over and help him, even though they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. He hit redial over and over. Nothing. Each time, he tried to speak, but something prevented him each time, with the exception of the occasional guttural sound of him attempting to say anything. He managed to get his full message out though, before he completely filled up Bro’s voicemail.

”Uncle Dirk, please, why can’t you just answer the phone?”

That’s when he just gave up. There was no one left for him. Dad was gone. Uncle Dirk was…who knew? He had no way of getting in touch with the rest of his family. He only knew they were spread somewhere across Texas and possibly many other places.

Dirk lost all concept of time, withdrawing inwardly, staring at the flashing images on the television, unmoving. Sometimes he would remember to eat and take care of himself—at Lil’ Cal’s insistence, he would say if ever asked—but even then, his efforts were just barely.

He holed himself up, didn’t go to school, didn’t even answer the door. The CPS and police officials had to get a copy of the flat keys from the building manager. That at least had the sense enough to know that kicking down the door would only further traumatise the child.

One of the CPS workers packed some clothes for Dirk, as the majority of his belongings would have to remain behind until the custodial issues were settled. The other tried to talk to Dirk, to ask how he was, and to try to reassure him that it all would be okay. The most the worker got from him was a shrug and Dirk taking his pair of signature Strider sunglasses (courtesy of Bro, several years ago) from Lil’ Cal’s face and putting them on himself so the woman couldn’t look him in the eye.

He never took them off, nor did he let go of Lil’ Cal willingly. The only show of emotion he displayed at the orphanage was when either were taken from him at bath time, when he would completely flip. Don’t you dare touch them!

Dirk always returned to his passive state once the two were back in his possession. This numbness didn’t even betray him when his uncle finally showed.

No longer was he relieved to see him. Uncle Dirk was far too late; he’d been left alone for too long. Part of him was actually angry that his uncle didn’t show up sooner. However, when given the option, he did not hesitate in choosing to go with his uncle. That was better than staying at the orphanage.
He didn’t have it in him to speak at all still; his grief wouldn’t allow it. Despite the utter despair he felt, by the time they arrived to the Strider flat, Dirk knew he was being stupid. He knew he really shouldn’t be angry at his uncle.

After all, every time he’d seen his uncles in the past, he’d been thrilled to see them. He never got to see his family a lot, so it was always an exciting time for him. Dave was, after all, just a few years older than him and was just so cool. Uncle Dirk was always kind to him, too—and he did give him these sunglasses, which definitely came in handy as of late. He truly did have many fond memories of this side of his family.

The fact of the matter was that he needed an outlet, somewhere to direct his anger. And it all was just so frustrating; why now of all times? Why was this what finally brought them back together? Why did it take his dad dying for his uncle to want anything to do with him? Dirk was, of course, completely unaware of his father and eldest uncle’s rocky relationship. They had at least done a decent enough job to mask any animosity from Dirk, so he naturally just didn’t get it.

Thinking of his father again made his chest hurt more, though, and after feeling numb for days it was now unbearable.

But he couldn’t say anything; he couldn’t express how much he hurt now, how much his missed his dad—or how terrified he’d constantly been.

Rather than acknowledging Bro initially, Dirk simply stood in the living room, nothing the place really hadn’t changed much. The furniture was the same as always. This was sort of comforting, in the very least; he was in a familiar place with someone he trusted.

He stared at the floor, holding his puppet firmly to his chest. It was too hard to look at Bro, or anything else that wasn’t safe. That was, until the elder Strider’s question threw him off. Dirk’s grip on Lil’ Cal loosened considerably and the puppet fell to the floor.

The small blond looked up at Bro, orange eyes brimming with tears hidden behind those dark shades. “My dad is dead,” he responded, voice cracking, raw with emotion. “How can I possibly be okay?”

[plushaeusrumpified]

Bro felt his stomach twist into a hundred kind of knots at Dirk's words, and he felt a bit like vomiting. Hearing it from Dirk of all people that yeah, David was dead, finally and completely solidified it for Bro. Until that point he'd been almost in denial, as if it were a thing that hadn't actually happened. But no, it was real. It was real, and he was actually standing in front of the only piece of his brother he had left.

He didn't know what to say or do, because the wound that he'd closed up before leaving to get Dirk was opening again. Crying on the astronomy tower had been therapeutic and he'd benefited from it more than he thought possible. But now the pain was back, the urge to cry himself coming back in full force. The lump in his throat grew larger, and he wasn't sure if he could speak, even though he knew he had to. But what to say?

"I'm not okay either," he said, the words tumbling out before he even fully realized what he was saying. "I... you don't have to be okay," he said, and his voice choked off a little towards the end. "Nobody expects you to be. Nobody said you have to try and be strong. It's okay to be fucking upset about it." He was trying as hard as he could to sound comforting. But the truth was he was trying to get himself to believe it too. But he didn't want to be so upset about it.

Bro still hadn't moved from his spot against the couch. He knew he should move closer to Dirk, maybe try and... what? Pat him? Hug him? This was all still so new to him. He didn't know what to fucking to. He shifted slightly, almost moving to go over to him but ultimately deciding not to. Not yet, anyway. "I'm sorry..." He didn't know what he was apologizing for, because obviously it wasn't his fault. But it felt like the only other thing he actually knew to say.

[givesyouaboner]

Those words broke the metaphorical dam. Shattered it like a baseball bat to a window; Dirk's well-kept façade crumbled into a million pieces. Everything he had kept deep inside for the past few weeks rose to the surface. His shoulders slumped and his breath hitched as he cried. His face quickly became blotched with red and damp from his tears. He covered his face in his hands and haphazardly sat on the floor, bending his knees into his chest. Dirk was subconsciously making himself as small as he felt.

Now that he started, Dirk couldn't stop. He wasn't sure if he would even if he was able. His heart ached and he was completely overwhelmed by all of the intense emotions he was feeling. He was crying for everything--for loss, for regret, for uncertainty.

"I'm just so sad," he said between sobs. "And scared." He wiped his face with his arm. "I--I miss Daddy so much. What am I supposed to do now?" The fact that his uncle was with him now didn't relieve the void in his heart. "I was so...mad that I couldn't go with him, because last time he promised I could go with him next time. He lied. I called him a liar. What if he died thinking I hate him? I never got to say sorry." As soon as he managed to get his confession out, he was crying even harder.

[plushaeusrumpified]

Bro wasn't prepared at all to see Dirk break down like that. But was he really surprised? No. Or at least he shouldn't have been. But the truth of the matter was, overall he was just not used to dealing with tears. Dave never cried. He hadn't since he was a little kid- well, until on the astronomy tower anyway, where the two of them had cried. But it didn't mean he knew what the hell to do.

Dirk's words inbetween his sobs were enough to tear at his heart, to make the lump in his throat swell bigger than it ever had been. He almost felt like he was going to choke on it. He realized then that it was definitely time to move. He had to go over and try and make him feel better. He couldn't just stand there with his arms folded, staring down at the kid having a breakdown on the floor.

His arms fell to his side, and he pushed himself off of the couch. Slowly, he walked over to Dirk and sat down in front of him. He was unsure if Dirk wanted a hug or not- and then he remembered all the times that Dirk greeted him with a hug, and he always just gave him a pat on the head or shoulder. Dirk definitely needed a hug, he realized. A pat on the shoulder wasn't going to fucking cut it.

So, much like he did on the astronomy tower with Dave, he reached out and pulled Dirk into his lap. His arms wrapped fully around Dirk, and he pulled him as close as he could. "Shhh, man..." his voice was quiet and cracked, and it was hard for him to even get anything out. "He knows. I don't think it's possible for you to hate anyone. He knew that too." His hand went up to bury itself in Dirk's hair. "He knows. I fucking promise. He knows you loved him, and he loved you too." Fuck, there were tears in his eyes. Because he wasn't just talking about Dirk.

wow hi this is short.

[givesyouaboner]

The comforting words from his uncle helped some, but it wasn't enough to stop Dirk's tears. It was expected though, considering how long he'd bottled this up. He was glad that his uncle was here with him now. He didn't think he could be alone again any time soon. After a moment, Dirk shifted some so he could dig his face into his uncle's forearm until he could calm down just enough that his throat wasn't aching."Are you sure that he knows? What if he doesn't and--" Dirk cut himself off at that. The way he was thinking wasn't making himself feel any better. He sniffed loudly before trying to speak again. "I'm just so tired and don't wanna be alone anymore."

[plushaeusrumpified]

Bro held him tighter and his own tears finally spilled over. "Stop," he whispered, "Stop... People say things all the time, okay? People say them and they don't mean them... and the people they say them to know that, even if it hurts. He knows you loved him, Dirk... I promise."

He was shaking, because once again he wasn't talking just about Dirk. His whole relationship with David had been exactly like that. Harsh during fights, slowly distancing themselves from each other... But he had to know, right? He had to know that Bro never meant the things he said. He was jealous and insecure. He just wanted his family. The family David had that Bro couldn't. He knew David didn't... really mean what he said, either.

Because that's just... family. They say shit that they don't actually mean. Right?

[givesyouaboner]

The small child nodded slowly nodded. He believed what Bro said, he really did. Bro wouldn't lie to him. It just didn't make it any easier. It didn't lessen the pain he felt, the grief. He just really missed his dad and nothing could change that. "Okay," was all he managed for a good while. He simply continued clinging to Bro and crying until he possibly couldn't anymore.

By the time he calmed down enough, his nose was so stuffy he couldn't breathe, but he had the sense to not blow his nose on Bro's shirt. He'd already messed it up with his eye juice. "Is it going to hurt forever?"