#all of judes and my muses are intertwined in a huge gay yarnball

[comicsnas]

TG: you on your way home yet TG: hey TG: john babe youre makin me nervous TG: if you forgot to charge your phone again i swear to god im having powerbanks sewn into your jackets TG: come on TG: why cant i reach your driver either i thought maybe youre just stuck in la traffic TG: la traffique as the french say TG: hello TG: fuck. please TG: alright

TG: hey alan TT: Hey, Dave. TG: sorry to just cold open this but could you do me a solid and track john down real quick TT: One sec. TT: [coordinates] TT: He’s on the move. In the air, seems like. TT: Headed pretty straight to Washington from the looks of it. TG: shit TT: Yeah. TG: alright could you maybe give me a quick ping when he stops moving or if he goes anywhere else TG: you dont gotta do nothing else just let me know would that be ok TT: Sure thing. TG: thank you TG: you take hourly payment in bigmacs if memory serves is that right TT: This one’s on the house. TG: no the fuck it aint im sending you a burger TT: Fine. TT: We can make it Whoppers, if that makes you feel any better. TG: not recently actually i think theres something going on with bk but i sure as fucking christ hope thats not relevant right now TG: nice of you to offer though youre a real one TT: Allegedly. TT: Godspeed.

TG: rose TT: Dawon. TG: theres problems TT: I’m on my way.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are not panicking.

She wouldn’t hurt John, is what you tell yourself, is what you have to keep telling yourself. There is something about him, and you don’t know what it is, nobody does, you doubt she knows what it is, but he actually means something to her. She wouldn’t hurt him. She can’t. You have to tell yourself that.

There was a time when you also didn’t think she would come to harm you. There was a time when you didn’t think she was going to kill people over this. Whenever there are times when you think that this is it, it’s not getting any more brutal than this, she proves you wrong.

But you aren’t panicking.

Rose says, “Dawon, sit the fuck down.”

“No,” you say, and continue pacing through your living room, John’s living room, in his house that he bought and then let you move into just a few months later. It’s the middle of the night, you’re tired out of your mind, but you’re not panicking.

“You are scaring the children.”

That gets you to stop. You turn, and your sister is sitting on the couch with Roxy on one knee and Dirk on the other, both of them looking as tired and cranky as you feel, but you know that that’s on you. Dirk picks up on your moods so quickly, you pacing around like a caged animal will make him nervous just from watching, and Roxy had to be roused from sleep so Rose could come here and be there for you. To keep you from panicking, which is not something you are doing.

Your baby brother is glaring at you while chewing on his little chubby fist, and your shoulders droop, and you just sit down right there on the floor. “I’m sorry,” you say.

“It’s quite alright,” Rose says, and starts bouncing Dirk gently. “The premiere is supposed to be when, again. Thursday?”

“Thursday, yeah.” You rub your palm over your forehead, and when you close your eyes, you feel like you pass out for a second. What if she does do something to John this time, though.

Rose hums. “She doesn’t want the movie published.”

“Well, no, of course she doesn’t,” you mumble. “And she doesn’t want her son hanging out with me, because this is fuckin’ Westside Story, but with aliens and murder.”

“It’s what Shakespeare would have wanted,” Rose says. “She’s aware that we will come for him, you know.”

It’s the we in that sentence that makes you feel more awake again, and you glance up at her from between your fingers. “Uh huh?” you prompt.

“Mhm,” Rose says. “Here is what she wants to happen, dear. The timing of this is, of course, impeccable. I have no doubt that it was in part inspired by your daring Academy Awards gear, but more than getting back at you for that, she wants the movie thwarted. She wants you to lose your steam and put it on the backburner, pack your bags, fly to Washington, and face her. Tired, scared, and angry, so she can kill you before the world will ever see what you had in store with this one. Are you going to do that, Dawon?”

You pull your knees to your chest, and press both of your hands to your face. Rose is right, you know she is, because she always is, but it’s hard to force your mind to agree. In your head, this is all about John, and you need to come and help him, protect him from what he can’t fight all alone. But maybe it isn’t. Maybe this is about you, as awful and strange as that thought may be for you. “No,” you say, muffled against your palms. “No, I won’t.”

“Atta, boy,” Rose says softly. “I realize that sleep might not be in the cards, but you will rest tonight, at least. I am staying here with you. And in the morning, darling, you will get up and you will make coffee, you will put on your big boy pants and you will go to work, and you will finish your movie. It will premiere on Thursday, and she can go choke on it.”

You sniffle and nod, feeling about half your size. “What about John?” you ask your hands.

“Oh,” Rose says, “we are very much coming to get him.”

“She’ll see us coming.”

When you look up from behind your hands, Dirk’s eyes are closed, and his head is resting against your sister’s chest. Rose is looking right at you, unwavering. She says, “Then we best put on a show.”