Chapter Text
If I had the world to give, I'd give it all to you
You’re 5 when your nanny tells you and your twin that your parents aren’t coming back from their voyage, that they’re dead. You and your twin look at each other, and you both shrug, then run off to the lego room. Neither of you have seen your parents in weeks, and you don’t see them even when they’re not on one of their many trips.
You are a bit worried that this might mean that your older siblings are going to leave, but when you and your twin get to the lego room, you hear them arguing in the room next to it. That’s good. They’re both cool, and they never sound disappointed in what you build.
You and your twin run straight for your respective lego projects. Mom and Dad don’t like it when you two build, but Mom and Dad aren‘t coming back, so who cares?
You start working on building the hand while you listen to your big bro talk on the other side of the wall.
“I don’t know what to do, Rose,” he says. “They’re family, we can’t just abandon them. But fuck, do you know how to raise a kid?”
“There’s more,” your big sis says, and you hear the shuffling of papers.
“Assets sold or split four ways, fund to pay for house things and rest of money split four ways, bank account until the twins are 18,” your big bro mutters to himself. “Jewelry split evenly between you and lil’ sis, watches, okay, what’s the important bit?”
“‘In the event that both David Strider Senior and Roseanne Lalonde Senior are dead, the above inheritance shall be given to their four children, named before, provided that the elder two of the four become legal guardians to the younger two until the younger two turn eighteen. If this does not happen, the entirety of their estate shall be donated to the Republican Governance Group SuperPAC, save one item of jewelry per daughter and one watch per son, none of which costing more than 10,000 dollars.’”
“Is that legal? I assume that’s legal. Can we even adopt kids? We’re 27, we’re, like, barely adults, but we can’t let that happen, that’s the big group that donates to McCain, we can’t let that happen, we have to do it for Obama, are you going to let him down, Rose?”
“Will you shut up about Obama for a second, Dave?” Rose snaps at him, and you flinch a bit because when she’s angry, she sounds like your mom. Not much, though, she’s your big sis, and you know she’s never really angry at you or your twin. But she said the s-word, she must be really mad at Dave to have said the s-word.
Rose sighs, and says, “I’m sorry, Dave. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I understand that it’s difficult for both of us, and that you were trying to use humor as a coping mechanism.”
“It’s…It’s chill. How are you doing? Is that literature and philosophy degree getting you tons of jobs?”
“I suspect about as many as your filmmaking degree is getting you. I’m looking into finding an agent for Complacency of the Learned, but I don’t know if I have enough saved up to cover rent until it’s published. How is your movie going?”
“Without any more money to pay for actors? Fucking terribly.”
“Neither of us were prepared to deal with the real world without our parents’ help, were we?”
“Nope.” They both laugh a bit, then Dave continues, “I don’t want to just adopt them for the money, though. We’re gonna be good parents. Not like Mom or Dad.”
“Of course, though I dare say that being better parents than Mother and Father Dearest will not be challenging.”
“The two of us are going to be working moms like Jade, working all day then making dinner at night, except art instead of science. Maybe Egbert can join the club, hasn’t he been thinking about adopting?”
“Are you describing yourself and Egbert as working moms instead of the paternal variant?”
“Yeah, I guess me and Egbert will be working dads, but that doesn’t flow off the tongue, you get what I mean.”
“Hmm,” Rose says, and you try to imitate that noise. She sounds like she knows something that’s a secret, and you want to sound like that too.
Behind you, your twin cackles loudly, holding up a lego figurine, and your older siblings walk into the room a couple of seconds later. “What are you working on?” Rose asks your twin.
“Lord Zazzerpan conquers all!” your twin shouts, gesturing at the giant wizard castle.
“Is that a robot?” Dave asks you, gesturing at your creation.
You plug in the motor, and flip the switch. Four of the robot’s fingers on its right hand twitch, like it’s trying to grab something. “Woah, that’s sick as fuck,” he says, then slaps his hand over his mouth. You don’t know or care why, you pry off one of the plates to see why the last finger didn’t move. “That’s really awesome,” he corrects himself. Behind him, Rose is asking your twin if she can use the name Zazzerpan, and you didn’t understand the whole conversation, but you think that having parents doesn’t sound too bad if it’s them.