"But Bro, I don't want to go," Whispered the tiny blonde child. He clutched at the fabric of his brother's pants.

Broderick Strider, or Bro, chuckled, looking down at his kid. Dave was only five years old, and it was supposed to be his first day at kindergarten. "Why not?"

"I don't trust them."

"Why not?"

Dave pressed his face into the back of Bro's knee. The man sighed, but his chest tightened up with affection for the little guy. Dave held on tighter. "They're all looking at me," Dave whined.

Bro scanned the group of kids all hanging out in front of the school. They were playing on swings, chasing each other, and shouting at their brand new friends. Nothing indicated that anyone was looking at Dave at all. "How do you know that?"

"I can see all of their eyes, Bro."

Staring straight ahead, Bro reached up to adjust the brim of his hat. He had always taught Dave not to give anything away, not to let anyone see what he was feeling, but that didn't mean he should fear those who lived a little differently. "The eyes are the window to the soul, kid," Bro murmured. "Some people want to show the world their souls, but some people, people like you and me, shine a little too bright. Gotta keep them shades on until you really get to know someone."

With a small frown, Dave just cuddled against his leg even more, and he sighed. "Trust me, lil man, it'll be okay."

Still, no matter what he said, Dave would not let go of his leg. Bro had to peel him off to get him to even step into the front gates. The bubbly looking woman Bro assumed was the teacher ushered Dave inside, encouraging him fruitlessly to go play with the other kids. Bro lingered, but the woman shooed him away, assuring him everything would be fine. The last thing he saw was Dave climbing up into a tree, and staying there.

Back at the apartment Bro sat on the couch and got out his laptop to get a little work done. Smuppets wouldn't sell themselves, but he didn't even get an hour of work in before he was getting a call from the school. "Strider residence," He said, tapping away at his keyboard. "Bro speaking."

"Is this Mr. Broderick Strider?" Huffed a feminine voice. He recognized it as the teacher from the kindergarten. "Dave Strider's father?"

"Guardian," He corrected, tensing up. Dave was much better off with him as a brother, not a father. "My name is Bro."

"Well, Mr. Strider, Dave is being very disobedient. He refuses to take off his sunglasses and we are indoors."

"He never takes them off," Bro said shortly.

"Well, he needs to."

"No, he actually doesn't."

"Does he have a doctor's note?"

Bro faltered. "No."

"Then you'd better come talk to him and work something out."

The line went dead and Bro ground his teeth together, pocketing his phone, grabbing his keys, and speeding to the school. It happened to art time when he got there, and among the little sticky faced brats drawing ugly unicorns, their families, and kittens, Dave was on the far end of the room with his teacher kneeling beside him. On Dave's easel was, in Bro's eyes, an expertly drawn smuppet. Keeping his face void of the pride he felt, Bro approached the teacher, hearing little whispers from the kids as he did.

"He's big."

"Is that her boyfriend?"

"Maybe he's gonna yell at us. He looks scary."

"He's got silly glasses, too. But I like his gloves."

Ignoring all of the comments, he crossed the room and leaned by the wall, waiting for the teacher to notice he was there. Her students sure as hell had.

"Can you tell me what's wrong with what you have drawn?" She was saying.

Dave's face was artfully blank. "Nope."

"Think," She said patiently, pointing to the red plush rump. Dave even drew the rump. Bro had to fight back a laugh. "Do you think this is appropriate? What even is it, honey?"

"It's not honey, that's for sure." Dave said snarkily.

"It's a smuppet," Bro said, making everyone turn and look at him. "We have them all over the house. I make and sell them for a living; I'm completely unsurprised Dave would draw one."

"Well that doesn't explain what it is and why it needs to be drawn so inappropriately."

"It's a sex toy," Bro said, voice a challenge. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Bro saw Dave snicker. He merely pointed at the boy, and the expression on his face went smooth again. Good boy.

"Would you step outside with me please, Mr. Strider?" She asked, voice like spoiled sweets.

"His name is Bro!" Dave piped up.

"Shush, lil man," Bro said, then looked down at the teacher. "He's right though."

"I am not calling you Bro," She said stiffly, turning on her heel and marching out.

Sighing, Bro followed. "What do you want?"

"Is that how your raise your child?" She demanded, pointing a sharp red fingernail towards the open classroom door. "With sex toys and unnecessary eyewear?"

"What business is it of yours how I raise my kid?" He countered. "Has Dave stepped one toe out of line? And I'm not talking drawing a damn puppet or wearing his shades. Has he actually misbehaved? Once?"

The teacher faltered, turning red and looking flustered. Then, her eyes got wide, far too big for her face. "He refused to follow instructions, as a matter of fact" She sniffed.

"What, when you asked him to remove his shades?"

She opened her mouth and closed it again, repeating the motion like a fish with lipstick. Expressionless as always Bro shoved past her and went inside, scooping Dave up with one hand and throwing him over his shoulder. "Time to go," He said casually. Dave didn't even put up a fuss. He was so used to being carried around that way he just pushed up his shades, holding them to his face. Dave was probably the most obedient, dignified, and intelligent kid in the whole state of Texas.

As they walked away, Bro wasn't surprised that the woman didn't say anything. He heard the angry click of stomping heels and the slam of a door, but that was all. "Bye bye," Dave said, waving his little hand. "Where are we going, Bro?"

"Home," The man answered.

"What about school, Bro?"

He thought about this for a long time. What about school? The past ten minutes had shown Bro that he couldn't trust public schools to accept the Strider lifestyle, and private school had to be that much worse. "I guess I'll have to teach you myself, huh kid?"

"You're not a teacher, Bro," He protested.

"Hush, you trust me dontcha?"

"Yes I do."

"Good. I'll take care of everything, don't you worry you're pretty little head."

"But Bro-"

"But nothing. I'm gonna school you myself. Just you and me."

Dave didn't argue again, and Bro spent the rest of that day ordering home school books. He'd be damned if he was going to let some stranger spend more time with his little man than he did. Home schooling actually turned out to be much easier than Bro would have previously thought. Dave was a bright kid, he wasn't very argumentative, and he followed simple instructions. On top of his normal curriculum, Bro signed Dave up for afternoon martial arts. That way, though he spent most of his time at home, he'd still have some form of socialization. Dave wasn't one to approach other kids, he wasn't shy, he just wasn't interested, but he gave off an aura that drew people close to him and soon enough, he had many friends and acquaintances, but no matter how many times Bro asked one certain question, he always got the same answer.

"Jackson was the one who broke it first," He said one afternoon, talking about breaking boards. "He hit it with his head."

"Do you like Jackson, a lot?"

"I guess so," Dave murmured.

"Is he your best friend?"

"No."

Bro smirked, but asked anyway. "Who's your best friend, Dave?"

"You are."

"Good boy."

Bro liked that Dave loved him so much, but sometimes he worried. As Dave grew older, he still wasn't changing his answer. Most pre-teens didn't think of their guardians as their best friends, and if they did, it was usually the result of bullying or depression. Dave wasn't bullied, and he certainly wasn't depressed. The kid seemed perfectly content just hanging around the house with Bro. The man didn't mind that, not at all, but still he worried. "It's a nice day, Dave," Bro said one afternoon.

The kid, almost eleven to be exact, was lying across the couch on his belly watching hilariously awful cartoons. "You think?"

Bro yanked open the blinds, and the harsh Texas sunlight poured in. "You tell me."

"Close it," Dave hissed, throwing an arm over his face. "My eyes, my eyes…"

"You're eyes are fine," Bro chuckled. "You're wearing shades. You always wear shades."

"Irrelevant."

"Don't give me that sass, kid. You wanna go?"

Dave looked up, interested. "Maybe."

"Oh, you know I'll kick your little ass," He challenged. He knew how to get his little punk of off the couch.

"That's what you think!" Dave shouted, leaping off of the couch and running to the roof. On the way, he darted to the kitchen, grabbed himself a sword, and disappeared up the stairs to the roof. Bro casually strolled into the kitchen himself, taking his sweet time as he pawed through the weapons in the fridge. They had some major organization issues in that house. He picked up a katana, seeing his reflection. His pointy shades gleamed. He chuckled, snatched up his puppet Cal, and flash stepped to the roof to knock Dave around a little bit.

Of course when the play fight was over Dave was battered and bruised, but Bro didn't have a scratch. Dave would get nowhere in life if he was allowed to win all the time. "Go wash up kid," Bro instructed, shoving the swords, and Cal, back into the fridge. When you come back we'll do some school.

Dave groaned, dragging his officially kicked butt to the bathroom to shower. Bro smiled.

While Dave got cleaned up, Bro pulled out his laptop and logged on to his little porn site. He had a few more smuppet orders to fill and some submissions to edit. Sure it wasn't exactly a clean cut white color job, but it wasn't the only one he had, and it brought in a lot of extra income. He worked four nights a week DJ-ing and bartending, but the site gave him and Dave that extra cash they needed for things like skateboard shoes, pizza night, and emergencies. Dave even knew about the site. He wasn't allowed on it, not yet, he was only ten, but the kid knew what sex was and saw smuppets all over the place, so Bro didn't see a reason to keep the secret. He didn't want Dave to think sex was a thing you had to be ashamed of, he wanted the kid t be open with it, at least at home.

"Bro, the wifi is being stupid."

He looked up, seeing Dave with wet hair and his iphone."Who you talking to, squirt?"

"John."

"Who's John?"

Dave shrugged. "My best friend."

Bro was speechless. He sat there blank faced as his ten year old kid wondered out of the room with outstretched arms, searching for signal.