Inspired by "Terrible Things" by ironoc on AO3

The song Dave sings is "Tears Don't Fall (Acousic Version)" by Bullet for My Valentine

Dave reached down into the infant's crib, picking up the bawling boy with careful arms. He held him in his arms, soothingly shushing him and rubbing his back. The infant continued to cry, oblivious to the man who was trying to comfort him. His wails increased as time went on, driving Dave into a frenzied panic. He had no idea how to properly do this, he still wasn't used to this father thing. He tried feeding the infant milk from a bottle, but the bottle was rejected. He tried playing with him, giving him his favorite stuffed toy, but the little boy was insistent on wailing his father's ears off. He checked his diaper, only to find it empty.

Exasperated, Dave laid his son on his bed, and crawled in next to him, hugging him and humming gently. This calmed Dirk (the second) a considerable bit, reducing his cries to sniffles. He looked up at his father with big soulful green eyes. Dave felt a twang in his heart as he looked at his son's eyes. They reminded him so much of the woman he loved so dearly, the woman that had been torn from him too fast, too soon. He ruffled Dirk's blonde hair gently, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Your mother was an amazing woman," he began, talking to his infant son. Dave knew his son wouldn't understand his words; he was far too young, far too innocent. He told him about Jade often, his heart aching, wondering how different things would have been if she had lived. He missed her gentle touches, her cheerful demeanor, her adorable smile, the warmth she brought into his life.

He looked down to find Dirk asleep on his chest. A small smile quirked at the corner of Dave's lips, as he slowly put the boy down on his bed, drawing up the blankets slightly, and tucking pillows around him to make sure the little boy didn't roll off the bed in his sleep. Slowly, Dave crept out of the room.

Reminders of Jade were everywhere in his house, and ultimately, in his life. Her favorite rifle was stashed in his closet. The old squiddles toys she loved so much were kept carefully in a box. There were pictures of them and their friends lining the hallway of the apartment, reminding Dave of the game, and how hard they worked to win it.

Dave went back into the storage bedroom, heading towards the closet. He was cleaning up the room; Dirk was getting big, and he would need his own bedroom very soon. He continued where he left off, taking boxes out of the large closet, and sorting through their content. Most of it was old alchemized crap that magically turned up from the game. He was almost to the bottom of one of the cleaner and smaller boxes, when he came upon a black-leather bound book.

The book was large, forcing Dave to hold it in both hands. There was only a thin sheen of dust on it, which Dave found odd. He could have sworn that this stuff had been here for years. He blew the dust off, and opened the book.

His heart clenched painfully when he saw a picture of him and Jade on the first page, holding hands and grinning at the camera. He wiped his eyes easily; Dave no longer wore his shades after Jade had passed. At the bottom the first page was a note inscribed in Jade's handwriting.

They may not be my genetic family, but I love them more than anything in the entire universe :B

Dave flipped through the pages, which were filled with pictures of John, Jade, Rose, and him. Little notes were scattered here and there in green handwriting. He saw pictures of his now deceased older brother, the original Dirk Strider. The trolls were present too, their grins peeking up at the former knight. He smiled fondly.

The later pages of the album were dominated by pictures of him and Jade. The time they went to the beach, the time Jade kissed him underneath the mistletoe, the time that she drew a mustache on his face while sleeping. He grinned, remembering that day well.

There were four pages dedicated to their wedding. A sad smile decorated Dave's face when he saw Jade in the white dress, stunning and almost unearthly.

A few more pages went on, depicting the various vacations they took after they were married. Awkward faces were depicted in a few of the pictures, cheeks puffed up and eyes crossed. Dave let out a genuine laugh when he saw himself dressed up as a girl, sporting a minute ponytail that Jade had managed to wrestle him into. The look on his face was comedy in itself.

The very last page of the album was when Jade was pregnant. There were pictures of the couple sitting down on the sofa, arms around each other. There was one of Dave pressing his ear to her belly, and yet another of him kissing her stomach. He remembered when he used to talk to baby Dirk, his old coolkid façade breaking open like an eggshell, his dorky self-coming out. Jade had always laughed when he talked to the baby, telling him that he was being silly, that his son couldn't hear him. This never stopped Dave though.

The very last picture depicted him and Jade kissing. A note was written on the back.

To my coolkid, my husband, and my Knight. My love for you stretches through both Time and Space.

Dave stares at the paper for a moment, his breath catching.

He shuts the book carefully, tears cascading down his face. He walks to his room, and carefully stores it in his dresser. He walks back to the guest room, and stacks up the boxes. As he's about to leave, he notices something out of the corner of his eye.

Jade's old guitar.

Dave walks over and picks it up, running his fingers over the strings. He plucks a few of them, and finds that the guitar works just as well as it had a year ago.

The knight picks up the guitar, strumming it slightly. He plays a few notes, allowing his emotions to flow out with his song. Dave's baritone voice joins the guitar as he begins to sing.

With blood shot eyes, I watch you sleeping

The warmth I feel beside me is slowly fading

Would she hear me, if I call her name?

Would she hold me, if she knew my shame?

There's always something different going wrong

The path I walk is in the wrong direction

There's always someone fucking hanging on

Can anybody help me make it better?

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

Her conscious calls, the guilty to come home

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

Her conscious calls, the guilty to come home

The moments died, I hear no screaming

The visions left inside me are slowly fading

Would she hear me, if I called her name?

Would she hold me, if she knew my shame?

There's always something different going wrong

The path I walk is in the wrong direction

There's always someone fucking hanging on

Can anybody help me make it better?

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

Her conscious calls, the guilty to come home

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

Her conscious calls, the guilty to come home

Would she hear me, if I called her name?

Would she hold me, if she knew my shame?

There's always something different going on

The path I walk is in the wrong direction

There's always someone fucking hanging on

Can anybody help me makes things better?

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

Her conscious calls, too guilty to come home

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

Her conscious calls, the guilty

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

Her conscious calls, the guilty to come home

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

Her conscious calls, the guilty to come home

Your tears don't fall..

Right as the last notes die off, he hears a small noise in the corner of the room. Dirk is sitting there, looking at his father attentively with large green eyes. Dave feels himself choke slightly, his throat closing up. He puts the guitar down, and goes over to pick his son up. The small boy places a hand on his father's face, rubbing the tears curiously.

"Da?" he asks, and Dave freezes. Dirk frowns, and tries again.

"Dad?"

Dave looks down at his son with a shocked expression. Dirk giggles and bounces a bit.

"Dad!"

Dave snaps out of his silent reverie, hugging his son to his chest. A small smile erupted on his face.

Dirk's first words were for him, and him alone. He only wished Jade was here to experience this with him. He tried to imagine in his mind's eye what her expression would be when Dirk called her mom. The throbbing in his heart grew slightly in intensity. He looked down at his son once more.

His son, the light in his life, the last gift that Jade gave Dave before she left. Dirk was so much like her in attitude.

Even though she was gone, Dave knew that there would always be a part of her left in the form of their son.

Dave kisses the little boy's forehad, salty tears slipping down his face.