the roleswap au that never was
Dug this relic up from the bowels of my old computer. It was the beginning of a very outside of the box roleswap AU where David is Sam's brother instead of Michael. Yes, really. Other features we did not make it to were vampire!Star and halfvamp!Michael. I doubt I'll do anything with this, but their sass is fun so here:
It said something about him that David’s first reaction the sight of the old man lying on the porch apparently not breathing was not, ‘Oh god, he’s dead’ but ‘Aw shit, this is the last thing Lucy needs.’
David had only met him once before, the day of Lucy’s mom’s funeral. He’d been a twelve-year-old foster kid recently dumped off on yet another new family, and felt himself to be at war with the world and everyone in it. Even in the starch-collared monkey suit the Emersons had press-ganged him into, he’d felt so out of place among the black-clad mourners. This wasn’t his family, these weren’t his people – why was he even here? He hadn’t belonged there. Hadn’t belonged anywhere.
Once the wake had been underway, David slipped out the first chance he got, ducking into the cloakroom and helping himself into whatever he could find. Digging inside pockets and purses had rewarded him with thirteen bucks in change, a pack of American Spirits and a cheap lighter to go with them. He’d been outside smoking one on the fire escape when he heard the door open. The sound of it had made him start guiltily, but he refused to act like he’d been caught and kept puffing away. The man he later realised was Sam’s grandpa had sat down beside him, turning his gold wedding band around his finger. Sighing tiredly, he’d turned to David and said, “Don’t ‘spose I could get one of those, could I?”
It had been clear to him even then that the old coot had a screw loose. This playing possum act wasn’t helping to revise that opinion. Neither was all the stuffed roadkill staring at him from every available surface. David eyed the surfing squirrel with its like pink Barbie sunglasses with a raised eyebrow and starting lugging his shit upstairs.
He found Sam in the biggest room, laying his comics out in neat piles on the bedspread. “Hm, nice view,” David commented, barely glancing at the window as he swung two loaded duffel bags onto the mattress.
Sam snatched a pile of Spidey Super Stories out of harm’s way. “Hey, watch it! These are mint.” He made a show of checking the covers for creases, even though David had been decent enough not to dump his stuff right on top of them. “I’ve already called dibs on this room.”
“Oh no, Sammy called dibs,” David deadpanned. “Guess I’d better start running.”
Sam huffed indignantly. “You know you don’t have to be a dick all the time right? You are allowed to take a break now and then.”
“No can do. My hours were in the contract I signed when your folks adopted me,” he replied, unzipping one of the bags and starting to unpack his clothes.
He got an exaggerated eyeroll in response. “God, you’re weird,” Sam complained, already gathering up the rest of his comics. He gave the room a last, wistful glance before surrendering it completely.
“Love you too, fashion-plate,” David called after him.
It was true, incredibly. Even though he'd thought the kid was a complete wet wipe at first, somewhere along the way, Sam had grown on him. Like fungus. He was still a shitty little nerd of course, but he was David's shitty little nerd, and woe betide anyone who fucked with him.
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