<3// Pen..Pals? //<> - (A DirkJake Fanfiction)

The Fault In Our Brotherhood- Chapter 13

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I shook my shoulders slightly, up and down by millimeters, stretching and stiff as a boulder made of basalt encoated in diamond. A dulled pain, quick as a cheetah on an overload of cheetos, succeeded this feeling of feeling immobile, and rather slithered through my lower arm.

"Hey, hey." Came a familiar voice. A head hovering over me came into view, slightly blurred. Bro?

"How're you feeling?"

"Like shit." I tried replying, but the words came out so dry I wondered whether or not I hadn't gone in for a windpipe replacement. "But better than yesterday."

"At least you feel better than yesterday."

"Anything is better than yesterday."

"Dirk, give me some form of relief for like the same amount of time it takes for me to snap my fingers in realization." Bro snapped his fingers soon after. The sides of my mouth couldn't help but lift slightly. "Would you like some water?"

"I'm not supposed to drink anything for a few hours." I croaked like a fucking frog, but I wasn't in the mood to point out how he was supposed to know this. I guess this process must've been stressful to him at least a little. "What time is it?" My head felt heavy, drowsy with general anaesthetic.

"They're coming in to set the cast soon. It's 1:30." That's why I feel deprived of food. I haven't eaten food the whole day in preparation for this surgery. Finally, my gaze fell onto my arm, the source of all my discomfort - HOLY FUCK THAT'S A SHIT TON OF STITCHES.

"Mother of a little baby Jesus, I'm a cyborg." I gawped. My heart beat quickly. "That scar will haunt me forever, why am I a zombie, walker, biter - whatever they call it. Wow, was it really that bad?" Suddenly, I felt revived. My stomach's irritance magnified.

"Guess you can audition for a character on the walking dead."

"This is going to mess up all of my cosplaying plans."

"Cosplay?" Dave's eyes went wide. He wasn't wearing his shades. In fact, I don't think he'd worn them at least in front of me the whole day.

"Yes, I cosplay."

"Like, cosplay? Cosplay what?" One corner of Bro's mouth lifted. He shuffled around in his chair expectantly. "I have the entire day, practically."

"Just shit from animes, and junk."

"'Mmkay, be that way - but we have to talk."

"Oh shit. Are Mom and Dad here?" I lolled my head to look at the other Strider in the eye. "Tell them to go away."

"No they aren't."

"Oh," For some reason I felt a pang of sadness inside me.

"Who cares? They're fucking asshats, but we - we should talk."

"Are you stuttering?" For a second, Bro opened his mouth as though he were going to say some sick comeback like Regina George the second. Maybe 'are you fucking high on NOS from your surgery?', but then he shut his mouth again. Partially to my disappointment. Wow, maybe I was high on general anaesthetic and morphine.

"We need to talk about the things you said before the stairs."

"Which you had never actually warned me about."

"Exactly, if we're putting it in Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff terms that's what I did wrong. I made you feel like I didn't warn you about the stairs." This conversation was about as emotional as it got between us both. It was like there was some sort of weird barrier between brotherhood and emotions. Some sort of fault in brotherhood. "i was really shit at warning you about the stairs."