Man-D √ post 012 [fiction]
Title: And this Moment, Now.
Fandom: Homestuck
Characters: Jade Harley and Dave Strider
Rating: PG
Warnings: Language
Notes: Written as part of a fic request post, for Tara. The prompt was "Dave and Jade, in an airport. Recessional (a song by Vienna Teng)." Post-Sburb fic.
Summary:
And I never thought I would find her here:
Flannel and satin, my four walls transformed.
But she's looking at me, straight to center,
No room at all for any other thought.
-----
Dave had counted the years since they finished their session.
Time passed by, and the four kids drifted apart slowly. Dave had needed space, he said; the others had similar reasons, things that they felt that they couldn’t share for one reason or another. Jade had left America almost as soon as she had entered it, claiming she needed the peace of her island. John had taken after his father, going to high school and perhaps becoming the only normal one of them all. And Rose, genius that she was, took off for some private school in upper New York, writing them all letters in precise purple ink and graduating early.
The fifth year since Sburb, Dave sat in the Buffalo airport, stealing a few moments of quiet in the multifaith center he had located. He wasn’t religious - far from it actually. But it was the quietest part of the airport, especially now that all flights out had been canceled in lieu of a snowstorm.
Fuck this snow. Dave huddled in his jacket, sunglasses still perched on his face as they had been for years. Snow was not his element; that was Jade’s whole thing. Briefly, he wondered if she would have enjoyed it, playing in the snow tonight. Kids kept walking by the door to the little chapel, begging and pleading their mothers to let them go outside, just for a few minutes. But rather than thinking of the brats with their dirty hands grabbing onto the snack food of the moment, he thought of Jade again. She would have begged to go outside too, once upon a time. Her face, close to Dave’s own, was red and chapped from the wind.
“What a coincidence.” A soft voice spoke near his shoulder, startling him. Dave realized he had been dozing, and pushed his glasses up as a protection measure before looking for the source. A familiar girl sat in the chair next to him, black hair neatly contained under a fuzzy blue hat and a blue and green suitcase at her feet.
“Jade. What are you doing here?” Dave was surprised, though he kept his cool; if the past five years had taught him anything, it was how to play a brilliant poker face. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your godforsaken island, digging holes in the grass and praying for a new building to sprout or something?” She laughed quietly, obviously trying to contain her enthusiasm in respect for the sacred place they sat in. Still, Jade was quieter than Dave remembered, less prone to outbursts of enthusiasm.
“I was visiting Rose, of course! But I got stuck in the snowstorm just like you did. Didn’t you come up here to say hello, too?” Of course, she knew the answer. It was no, just like always; Dave didn’t believe in saying hello to his friends any more. They rarely spoke; Rose was the only person that attempted to keep regular contact with anyone, and then only the bare minimum. It was all facts from her: graduation announcements, a signed copy of her first book. They were eighteen years old, and she was the only one who could really call herself a success in life.
“I was just passing through. Coming back from Canada.” Dave kept it vague; he didn’t like people to know that he roamed from city to city, often taking DJ jobs before getting tired and quitting. He could never find a home since Bro had disappeared, and the apartment with it.
“That sounds cold,” Jade admitted. She shivered unconsciously, pulling a coat out of one of the bags at her feet and putting it on. Dave recognized it as the one she had made long ago, in Sburb, and felt he should say something. But what did you say to a girl who was stuck in the past? Sburb felt so disconnected from life, now. Dave was an artist, Rose was on her way to becoming famous, John was finally living his movie-esque life, and Jade...was Jade, the same as always.
They spent the night in silence after that, Jade quickly falling asleep. Some time before, she had curled her hand around his, their fingers lacing. Dave hadn’t even noticed, so preoccupied was he in his own thoughts. Finally, she had put her head down on his shoulder, immediately falling asleep. Dave couldn’t help but laugh slightly at this long-standing habit of falling asleep instantaneously. He wondered if she still had bad dreams, and squeezed her hand when she whimpered unconsciously. It seemed so perfect, the Knight and the Witch, still together after all of this time. Dave wasn’t sure what Jade meant by holding his hand, but he refused to let go or move during her nap. Instead, he turned his attention to the people surrounding him. Flights began to move again as morning neared, and people slowly shuffled to their destinations. Dave wondered if Jade had missed her flight, but he was too invested in letting her sleep to wake her up and ask. Finally, she stirred, hair falling in front of her face as she righted herself and stretched.
“Good morning...” Jade yawned, running a hand through her unruly hair. Sometime during her long nap, her hat had fallen off and landed in her lap, leaving her hair in tangles. She brushed her hand through it, and Dave resisted the urge to do it for her. He had to keep cool for Jade, he told himself. So instead he nodded at her good morning, eyes indiscernible behind his sunglasses. The girl stood up, brushing off her corduroy skirt and gathering her things.
“You’re leaving? Wait, you just got here--” suddenly, Dave wasn’t sure what he was doing in the airport. His flight still hadn’t been called, and right now he really didn’t give a damn. All he saw was the girl in front of him, and the fact that she was escaping from him. A chance at normality, he told himself. A chance to right the fact that he hadn’t seen his friends in years, and it was slipping through his fingers as the next flight was called and she left for wherever without a goodbye.
“I’ve got to make my flight, Dave, you’re going to make me late!” Jade smiled slightly at her once-friend, still standing. She edged towards the exit of the chapel, and Dave stood up, following her. He grabbed her by the arm, turning her around to look him in the eyes.
“Fine, sure. I get that. But how the hell did you know I was in here anyway?” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but Dave couldn’t think of a way to say anything else without sounding like a complete goober. The last thing he wanted to do was turn into Egbert right in front of Jade.
“I always know where you guys are.” Jade shrugged. “I mean, not really, and not definitively, but I just guessed...I guessed that you would be here too. And you were!” She hesitated, looking back at the exit.
“Look, that’s really creepy. You’ve gotten a whole lot more cryptic since I saw you last -- but you’ve always been into that weird psychic shit. I wanted to say that....” There was no eloquence that could replace feelings. He wanted so many things right now, the least of which being to make her stay, to skip her flight. But he couldn't do that. They hadn’t been good friends in years, and he knew that he couldn’t convince her to stay. He didn't have the right any more to tell her what to do with her life. Dave knew that it wasn’t exactly orthodox or proper at the moment, but right now he didn’t care. Pulling Jade close, he kissed her on the lips, softly, before letting her go. She stood there, obviously shocked, before turning red and replying.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around, then, Dave. Maybe in another airport somewhere?” Dave couldn’t even ask her where she was going. Instead, he stared after her as she left, the red squiddle coat clashing with her blue outfit in a way that was uniquely and strangely Jade.
--
He looked for her in every airport he went to after that. From Buffalo to Las Vegas, and Charles de Gaulle in France, Dave hoped that he would see Jade again. He could see the newest memory of her clearly: her soft, sad smile, eyes still wide and green, the faded squiddle coat hugging her frame.
Nine months and thirteen days since their first encounter, he saw her again, pulling that same blue and green suitcase through a different airport. He caught up to her as she was sitting down in a Starbucks and they talked for two hours. Jade shared her life with Dave, and he listened, too scared to break the moment by interjecting his own failure of a life into her story of new puppies and gardens and physics. They were things he could never understand.
At one year exactly, they met in the airport again, this time on their way to the same destination. Rose had invited all of them to her house to stay a week; Jade slipped her hand into Dave’s and refused to let go until the taxi they had hired delivered them to Rose’s house. Jade left his side until that night, when she slipped into Dave’s room to lie beside him in bed. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He told himself it was for protection, but from what he wasn’t sure. Rose noticed, of course, and had the tact to move them into a slightly larger room, built for two rather than one. Not that Jade had ever been afraid of sharing personal space to begin with.
After that fleeting week of intimacy -- Dave still felt her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss, even after she was gone -- he didn’t see Jade for another year and a half, give or take a few months. This time it was another airport; Milan, Italy, where Dave had gone to explore the Italian music scene out of boredom and a need to keep moving, keep running from time.
He could not stop her as she passed.
Although Jade noticed him, and nodded to him from across the restaurant where they both sat, she didn’t approach. Dave couldn’t help but stop and stare, watching her leave him behind. Her Squiddle jacket was gone, replaced by a nicer suit that fit her perfectly. The man beside her sat too close to be merely a friend. Her hand sparkled; Dave noticed that it was a ring, diamond from the looks of it, set in a matching band to the man’s. She seemed happy at least, though he could never tell when she was hiding things from anyone; she had gotten too good at lying in the past eight years.
Of course she wouldn’t wait for him. She didn’t even know where he lived any more. Neither did he, really. As he sat at the bar, hand around a bottle of beer, Jade and the man got up and passed by, talking excitedly. Dave felt the brush of a hand in his jacket pocket as they passed. Pulling out a piece of paper, he unfolded it on the bar, reading it carefully. It was a letter from Jade; the handwriting was unmistakable, though it lacked the curliques of earlier years.
Time’s what you make it, right? Coolkid. :) You can do it!
He left the beer on the bar, the note clenched in his hand.
Fandom: Homestuck
Characters: Jade Harley and Dave Strider
Rating: PG
Warnings: Language
Notes: Written as part of a fic request post, for Tara. The prompt was "Dave and Jade, in an airport. Recessional (a song by Vienna Teng)." Post-Sburb fic.
Summary:
And I never thought I would find her here:
Flannel and satin, my four walls transformed.
But she's looking at me, straight to center,
No room at all for any other thought.
-----
Dave had counted the years since they finished their session.
Time passed by, and the four kids drifted apart slowly. Dave had needed space, he said; the others had similar reasons, things that they felt that they couldn’t share for one reason or another. Jade had left America almost as soon as she had entered it, claiming she needed the peace of her island. John had taken after his father, going to high school and perhaps becoming the only normal one of them all. And Rose, genius that she was, took off for some private school in upper New York, writing them all letters in precise purple ink and graduating early.
The fifth year since Sburb, Dave sat in the Buffalo airport, stealing a few moments of quiet in the multifaith center he had located. He wasn’t religious - far from it actually. But it was the quietest part of the airport, especially now that all flights out had been canceled in lieu of a snowstorm.
Fuck this snow. Dave huddled in his jacket, sunglasses still perched on his face as they had been for years. Snow was not his element; that was Jade’s whole thing. Briefly, he wondered if she would have enjoyed it, playing in the snow tonight. Kids kept walking by the door to the little chapel, begging and pleading their mothers to let them go outside, just for a few minutes. But rather than thinking of the brats with their dirty hands grabbing onto the snack food of the moment, he thought of Jade again. She would have begged to go outside too, once upon a time. Her face, close to Dave’s own, was red and chapped from the wind.
“What a coincidence.” A soft voice spoke near his shoulder, startling him. Dave realized he had been dozing, and pushed his glasses up as a protection measure before looking for the source. A familiar girl sat in the chair next to him, black hair neatly contained under a fuzzy blue hat and a blue and green suitcase at her feet.
“Jade. What are you doing here?” Dave was surprised, though he kept his cool; if the past five years had taught him anything, it was how to play a brilliant poker face. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your godforsaken island, digging holes in the grass and praying for a new building to sprout or something?” She laughed quietly, obviously trying to contain her enthusiasm in respect for the sacred place they sat in. Still, Jade was quieter than Dave remembered, less prone to outbursts of enthusiasm.
“I was visiting Rose, of course! But I got stuck in the snowstorm just like you did. Didn’t you come up here to say hello, too?” Of course, she knew the answer. It was no, just like always; Dave didn’t believe in saying hello to his friends any more. They rarely spoke; Rose was the only person that attempted to keep regular contact with anyone, and then only the bare minimum. It was all facts from her: graduation announcements, a signed copy of her first book. They were eighteen years old, and she was the only one who could really call herself a success in life.
“I was just passing through. Coming back from Canada.” Dave kept it vague; he didn’t like people to know that he roamed from city to city, often taking DJ jobs before getting tired and quitting. He could never find a home since Bro had disappeared, and the apartment with it.
“That sounds cold,” Jade admitted. She shivered unconsciously, pulling a coat out of one of the bags at her feet and putting it on. Dave recognized it as the one she had made long ago, in Sburb, and felt he should say something. But what did you say to a girl who was stuck in the past? Sburb felt so disconnected from life, now. Dave was an artist, Rose was on her way to becoming famous, John was finally living his movie-esque life, and Jade...was Jade, the same as always.
They spent the night in silence after that, Jade quickly falling asleep. Some time before, she had curled her hand around his, their fingers lacing. Dave hadn’t even noticed, so preoccupied was he in his own thoughts. Finally, she had put her head down on his shoulder, immediately falling asleep. Dave couldn’t help but laugh slightly at this long-standing habit of falling asleep instantaneously. He wondered if she still had bad dreams, and squeezed her hand when she whimpered unconsciously. It seemed so perfect, the Knight and the Witch, still together after all of this time. Dave wasn’t sure what Jade meant by holding his hand, but he refused to let go or move during her nap. Instead, he turned his attention to the people surrounding him. Flights began to move again as morning neared, and people slowly shuffled to their destinations. Dave wondered if Jade had missed her flight, but he was too invested in letting her sleep to wake her up and ask. Finally, she stirred, hair falling in front of her face as she righted herself and stretched.
“Good morning...” Jade yawned, running a hand through her unruly hair. Sometime during her long nap, her hat had fallen off and landed in her lap, leaving her hair in tangles. She brushed her hand through it, and Dave resisted the urge to do it for her. He had to keep cool for Jade, he told himself. So instead he nodded at her good morning, eyes indiscernible behind his sunglasses. The girl stood up, brushing off her corduroy skirt and gathering her things.
“You’re leaving? Wait, you just got here--” suddenly, Dave wasn’t sure what he was doing in the airport. His flight still hadn’t been called, and right now he really didn’t give a damn. All he saw was the girl in front of him, and the fact that she was escaping from him. A chance at normality, he told himself. A chance to right the fact that he hadn’t seen his friends in years, and it was slipping through his fingers as the next flight was called and she left for wherever without a goodbye.
“I’ve got to make my flight, Dave, you’re going to make me late!” Jade smiled slightly at her once-friend, still standing. She edged towards the exit of the chapel, and Dave stood up, following her. He grabbed her by the arm, turning her around to look him in the eyes.
“Fine, sure. I get that. But how the hell did you know I was in here anyway?” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but Dave couldn’t think of a way to say anything else without sounding like a complete goober. The last thing he wanted to do was turn into Egbert right in front of Jade.
“I always know where you guys are.” Jade shrugged. “I mean, not really, and not definitively, but I just guessed...I guessed that you would be here too. And you were!” She hesitated, looking back at the exit.
“Look, that’s really creepy. You’ve gotten a whole lot more cryptic since I saw you last -- but you’ve always been into that weird psychic shit. I wanted to say that....” There was no eloquence that could replace feelings. He wanted so many things right now, the least of which being to make her stay, to skip her flight. But he couldn't do that. They hadn’t been good friends in years, and he knew that he couldn’t convince her to stay. He didn't have the right any more to tell her what to do with her life. Dave knew that it wasn’t exactly orthodox or proper at the moment, but right now he didn’t care. Pulling Jade close, he kissed her on the lips, softly, before letting her go. She stood there, obviously shocked, before turning red and replying.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around, then, Dave. Maybe in another airport somewhere?” Dave couldn’t even ask her where she was going. Instead, he stared after her as she left, the red squiddle coat clashing with her blue outfit in a way that was uniquely and strangely Jade.
--
He looked for her in every airport he went to after that. From Buffalo to Las Vegas, and Charles de Gaulle in France, Dave hoped that he would see Jade again. He could see the newest memory of her clearly: her soft, sad smile, eyes still wide and green, the faded squiddle coat hugging her frame.
Nine months and thirteen days since their first encounter, he saw her again, pulling that same blue and green suitcase through a different airport. He caught up to her as she was sitting down in a Starbucks and they talked for two hours. Jade shared her life with Dave, and he listened, too scared to break the moment by interjecting his own failure of a life into her story of new puppies and gardens and physics. They were things he could never understand.
At one year exactly, they met in the airport again, this time on their way to the same destination. Rose had invited all of them to her house to stay a week; Jade slipped her hand into Dave’s and refused to let go until the taxi they had hired delivered them to Rose’s house. Jade left his side until that night, when she slipped into Dave’s room to lie beside him in bed. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He told himself it was for protection, but from what he wasn’t sure. Rose noticed, of course, and had the tact to move them into a slightly larger room, built for two rather than one. Not that Jade had ever been afraid of sharing personal space to begin with.
After that fleeting week of intimacy -- Dave still felt her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss, even after she was gone -- he didn’t see Jade for another year and a half, give or take a few months. This time it was another airport; Milan, Italy, where Dave had gone to explore the Italian music scene out of boredom and a need to keep moving, keep running from time.
He could not stop her as she passed.
Although Jade noticed him, and nodded to him from across the restaurant where they both sat, she didn’t approach. Dave couldn’t help but stop and stare, watching her leave him behind. Her Squiddle jacket was gone, replaced by a nicer suit that fit her perfectly. The man beside her sat too close to be merely a friend. Her hand sparkled; Dave noticed that it was a ring, diamond from the looks of it, set in a matching band to the man’s. She seemed happy at least, though he could never tell when she was hiding things from anyone; she had gotten too good at lying in the past eight years.
Of course she wouldn’t wait for him. She didn’t even know where he lived any more. Neither did he, really. As he sat at the bar, hand around a bottle of beer, Jade and the man got up and passed by, talking excitedly. Dave felt the brush of a hand in his jacket pocket as they passed. Pulling out a piece of paper, he unfolded it on the bar, reading it carefully. It was a letter from Jade; the handwriting was unmistakable, though it lacked the curliques of earlier years.
Time’s what you make it, right? Coolkid. :) You can do it!
He left the beer on the bar, the note clenched in his hand.