BIRDBERT
by kathlaida-princess

Summary:

Your name is John Egbert and you're currently at the place between places.

Here time goes by with no change in light, so day never turns to night and everything is always set in an eternal state of twilight. This makes it very difficult for you to sleep, and you've been feeling rather restless for a while now.

Author's Notes: Hello, dear readers! Yesterday I woke up with this story in my head and here it is now.

Your name is John Egbert and you're currently at the place between places.

Here time goes by with no change in light, so day never turns to night and everything is always set in an eternal state of twilight. This makes it very difficult for you to sleep, and you've been feeling rather restless for a while now.

Ever since Jade deployed the population of five planets onto the deck of this huge, golden ship, there have been few places for you to get some peace and quiet. And it's all good, and you really enjoy spending time with all consorts, even if you're not sure what the fuck they're doing most of the time. But after a while, your weariness takes over and you fly up, perhaps the crow's nest will be far enough from all this noise and commotion. And it usually is, but not today.

A crow rests at the crow's nest, or at least the crow version of your best friend. Dave sits with his back turned to the railing, his only wing curled around his body, and he is so still and quiet you're not sure he's noticed you. But as you approach, his head turns to you, his face impassive, and you guess that's acknowledgement enough.

You might be tired, and this meeting might turn into something awkward (you are slowly beginning to realize just how much you've hurt him with seemingly harmless words before), but you won't pass up the chance of talking more to him. You've just met him for the first time after all, or at least a version of him. You casually swoop in and sit by his side, nervous and awkwardly silent at first.

He soon breaks the ice for you, turning his face to meet you, "Sup."

You chuckle into his stoic expression, and from then on it's all better.

Your conversation is careful and sparse at first, for how can you speak normally, cheerfully, when there has been so much hurting, so many losses lately? There's a blood stain on the amulet around Dave's neck, and some more soaking the bandages around his stomach, and your long fingers still ache from wielding your warhammer. The both of you are only thirteen and you've faced your own deaths, your family's deaths, each other's deaths. But the familiarity of this moment, the fact that you're talking to your best friend again, makes it feel like coming home, and your words progressively become lighter, and quicker.

Sure there are a lot of weird things happening here. You'd always imagined that when you finally met Dave, he'd be this actually kind of dorky boy with a funny accent and a terribly dark sense of humor, but a heart of gold buried beneath tons of raw irony, and you'd get into so much trouble together. But the Dave before you is surrounded by a neon orange aura, and has feathers covering his body, and a long unreal-looking wing draped around him. But this is still Dave, you realize. You've already gotten into trouble with him (geez, that bucket incident sure was unfortunate) and there are so many things you've wanted to tell him. You can tell him now.

For one, "I can't believe you really wear these silly shades, man!" you laugh. He is a bit of a dork, after all. "I actually sent them as a joke, but I guess they do fit you - better than your other ones at least."

"Well, Egbert, this just proves that you really suck at joking because these are fucking rad," he replies, and you catch a hint of a smirk. The accent and the humor are also there. "And you should take a look at yourself too. Fluttering left and right with that ridiculous hood of yours. Strider'll give you lessons on how to fly proper. You better be taking notes on this."

You chuckle and shove his shoulder, and then there are a few moments of silence, but this is comfortable, this you can handle. There are more things you want to say, a little more embarrassing, a little more intimate, but you think that this place of all places is a good opportunity to try. You stare at your feet. "You know, meeting you has always been kind of a big deal. I was a bit nervous. I mean, I still am, it'll be great when I finally meet the... well, the Dave from my timeline."

"Are you still nervous? About me, I mean," he asks, but you miss the hint of insecurity to his voice.

You shake your head, turning to face him. "Nah. Sburb oddities aside, you're still the insufferable prick I always thought you were. Who I actually kind of missed a lot during the game. So, there you go."

He actually snorts this time, and the sound is amazing, contagious. "Yeah, you're pretty much the giant naïve dork I always imagined, too. And you even twirl and swoop in the air, for fuck's sake. And giggle."

"And you missed me too?" you ask through a grin.

But instead of the snarky reply you were expecting, you watch him go silent and his smile fall apart, and you realize too late just what a dumb question you asked. You kick yourself mentally, and your mouth is already open to apologize when he cuts you off.

"Yeah, I did." And there is no irony to him now, just raw, blunt honesty. It's almost scary, unnatural to witness, how collected he looks and how strained he sounds, but you do anyway. You wish you could see his eyes. "I'd known you for years, and then when I met you for the first time you were dead. And it's been four months since then."

You sigh and you squirm in your place. "Geez, I'm so sorry, Dave... I'm really an asshole. It's me. And I was so stupid at the time... I should have known nothing good could come out of that..."

"No. I knew you were fucking things up over there. I should have said something," he replies, and he's as tense as a bow's string.

You shake your head again. "You came back and saved my life. And you've become... doomed because of that. I think you've suffered enough for this. And I gave you a hard time because of it too... And I wish I could do something now..."

Like hug him. But there are a few inches apart from you and you can't bring yourself to cross them. You fear you'll break him if you touch him. Your stare drops to the ground and takes interest on your feet once more. There's another question you've been meaning to ask, and you guess you can get it all out now.

"What was it like? My death, I mean. I know this is a stupid question, but I think I'd like to know..."

"It's okay," Dave replies, and you hear the same strain in his voice. "You were in your denizen's palace. And there was a lot of blood. And your clothes were all burnt. I don't know exactly what happened, but I brought you out as fast as I could." And then he snorts again, though it's shallow and humorless. "There was one of your lizard things crying over you, though. It was holding that bunny I gave you."

You actually cringe at that. "Poor Casey. And I guess I'm all out of bunnies now. It really was a great present, Dave. Next time one of those come into my hands, I'll treasure it forever."

"Yeah, okay."

More silence, but this time you have no will to break it. You rest your chin on your hand and study the bird-boy beside you, who is distracted by something on the ship's mast. The novelty of seeing him this raw and emotional still strikes you, but not in a good way. Not when you can't deal with these new feelings bubbling inside you. Not when you don't know how to promise that everything will be alright. Not when you can't reach out for him, even if he's just a few inches away.

"I'll be put to sleep soon," Dave's voice comes, soft but still startling you. "Hephaestus still owes me one, after some... shenanigans. And Jade already agreed to send me to LoHaC again. I've done everything I had to do, and I'd like some rest, finally."

His words hurt you more than they should. Of course, sprites don't sleep. They're the game's mechanisms, made to be exploited to the extreme. They're not supposed to be prototyped with living things, beings that still have so much potential. He deserves to rest, but you can't stop yourself from saying, "Stay." And then you groan, and kick yourself mentally again. But he is looking at you now. "This is so selfish, I know... Fuck, forget it. It's just... three years, three Dave-less years. That's a lot."

He is smiling again, "Yeah, mine wouldn't be John-less, though. It'd be good to try those dream-bubble things. Maybe find you. Your dead-self, I mean. There's a lot of stuff I want to tell him."

Your stomach does flips at his words. You feel like you are walking on a wire now, but you keep pacing forward. "I'm here. You can just tell me now."

And for a moment he seems to consider it. You watch his mouth move, form a perfect 'O' just before pursing back into a thin line. He shakes his head. "No. That is up to your Dave, not me."

Now you are almost afraid of meeting your Dave after this, and quite looking forward to it at the same time. The image of your friend so raw burns you, and you feel like you've just discovered something important and intimate and precious, but you can't quite place exactly what and it makes your sleep-deprived head hurt.

Dave's new snort breaks you out of your reverie. "Fuck Egbert, you really are oblivious..."

And, not knowing what exactly to reply to that, you say, "Well. I miss my Dave so much already."

"I can be happy about that," he admits, and then he sighs, exaggeratedly fake and dramatic, "... and I guess I can delay my sleep for a while... handle you for a few more months..."

"Or years?" you (shamelessly) giggle.

"Hum," he ponders. "We'll see how you behave. You are uncannily amazing at embarrassing yourself. Work on that and I might stay."

"Yeah, you're fooling no one, Dave... We'll all have an amazing trip together, you'll see." You stretch, and a loud yawn escapes your lips. "Well, I guess I'll head off to sleep too. There must be another place in this ship with no constant glubs or nakking."

"That's precious, Egbert. Give me a lecture just to abandon me the next moment. This ain't gonna do any good for your behavior. And I see none of your glubbing lizards here. You could just stay," he deadpans, arms crossed over his chest.

"Salamanders..." you laugh, but this is the invitation you needed to finally collapse onto him. You find that the feathers around his neck are the perfect spot to nuzzle, and sleep comes alarmingly fast to you. You can feel the breath catch in his throat, and then his arms twining slowly, carefully around your frame. The rustling of soft feathers across your face is tender and reassuring, and the neon glimmer of his orange aura almost dances through your closed eyelids. Worn fingers remove your glasses, and you swear you feel lips pressed to your temple, but you might be dreaming already, and if you move you fear you'll frighten him, and you really don't want this to end.

As you sleep, you dream. But no Skaia or Prospit or Derse this time, no lucid dreaming or real actions with real consequences. Just plain, old dreaming, the kind you've come to miss. In this dream you wear a teal suit, burnt around the edges, and Dave is right beside you, in a white suit and a red bowtie - because these are cool now, apparently. You hold hands and you see him beaming, so happy, and for a moment you really wish this were some sort of premonition, a stray cloud from Skaia.

I want to write more for this pairing, but not just these tiny things...