#sweateredstrider

Sometimes, when you look in the mirror, you still see the boy you were before you met Kankri.

That Dave -- that past version of you -- there are people you know now that have never met him. He might as well have never existed for them. And that’s fine, you’d like to keep it that way, please. You still cringe when you remember him -- when you remember the loneliness.

You’re sitting in front of a mirror now. The mirror in your bedroom, the full length one Kanaya uses when she wants to see the outfits she’s making you try on from the back and the front at the same time. You look like you -- like Dave. You’ve never not looked like Dave, though, because, well, you are Dave, you’ve always been Dave, and you’ll always be Dave. But you’re sitting on the edge of the bed in your baseball shirt and a pair of jeans, your shades are firm on your face, and you’re not looking at you, you’re looking at you.

If that makes sense. It probably doesn’t.

You think on the boy you’re looking at, and the differences between him and the boy you are now. You think of the years hiding in your bedroom. You think of the years you spent hating your brother, resenting him, refusing to bridge the chasm that you both had ripped open wide. You think of the times you were too scared to hold out a hand to shake.... and of the times your legs locked in battle and all you heard was the echoes of your brothers voice, of your stepfathers voice, both telling you that you weren’t strong enough. You couldn’t save anyone. You think of the nights you spent awake because whenever you closed your eyes you saw your mother’s dying face as she was sucked up into the barrier stream, leaving you alone.

You think of the way your knuckles bled when you punched the stone wall of the secret hideaway Dirk had banished you to because all you saw was a prison. A prison you’d been sent to because you weren’t strong enough, smart enough, brave enough... because you were cowardly and dumb and hide behind a shield because you were too scared to grab your sword and fight. Because you’d killed your mother and you would never be as good as Dirk. You’d never be a hero like he is. Like she was. Like your real dad was.

You close your eyes and you see Kankri’s face. You see the faces of your children. And you see yourself, with them, and Kankri’s got an arm around your waist and he’s holding you up and in that Dave you see you... but. You also see you. Both of you. If that makes sense. It probably doesn’t.

You take a deep breath... as deep as you can get it -- ! And you let it out slowly. You feel something behind you change, something... shift. Then you hear a soft tinkling sound, like little glass chimes knocking together. Your wings are out.

hey dave what are you looking at

!!!!

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