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When you wake, vision just barely clear enough to make out the light filtered from under the doorway, the first thing that enters your mind is
“Wrong.”
The nagging, pulling feeling just at the edge of your perception. Something is indubitably, horribly off. You’re unable to place your finger on just what it is, unfortunately. But as you swing your legs out from beneath the swath of linens and fluffy blankets, the floor cold. You realize what’s missing.
“Jake?” You call into the darkness, forcing your eyes to open wider in a shoddy attempt at letting more light into them. Then, silence. A long pause, filled by only the sound of the wind against the panes of glass in the window frame.
“Jake.” You try again, voice firmer. “Where are you?”
Again, nothing but crickets and gusts.
Wrong.
Wrong wrong wrong wrong.
You stand, stretching your arms and the sleep-stiff muscles at your neck. The flashlight you insist on keeping at the bedside table pays off, in the end. As when you attempted to go for the lamp, it refused to turn on.
Odd.
The lights in the hallway are lit… what’s going on?
Grabbing the house robe you hang on the hook at the door, you pull it on, tying it quickly before opening the bedroom door. Light dances in flickers across the floor, hints of amber betwixt pools of yellow fill the wall behind you.
Something-- no, some
one
stands there, rubbing their hands together in front of the fireplace. You don’t light it very often, save for when it’s truly cold and for special occasions like friends visiting and holidays.
You hesitate to call out to the figure, their face is concealed in darkness and you’re not even sure if it’s
Jake.
He certainly isn’t so… short. Or perhaps that’s just a trick of the light? But eventually, the need to know outweighs the anxious feeling in your stomach.
“Hello?” It’s nearly a whisper but it’s loud enough that the figure perks up, standing full and turning to face you.
Eyes piercing white, they open their mouth,
“Hello. Syha'h orr'e, fhtagn hriior y'hah shugg ilyaaog uh'e, cn'gha k'yarnak Dirk shtunggliagl naya cehye?”
Your head tilts, trying to make sense of whatever the fuck it is they just said.
What?
They must realize how confused you are, since they clear their throat and try again. “Ah! Ngkn'a ooboshu lloig 'ai hlirgh, sgn'wahl navulgtm Dirk grah'n.”
“Jake?” You question and they squint at you, apparently confused themselves.
“...Jake?” They taste the words on their lips and smile at you, teeth glowing as white as their eyes do.
“Where’s Jake?” You question, stepping forward. Whoever--
what
ever this is, they’ve done something with Jake.
“N'gha r'luh lloig tharanak naflya 'bthnk... ahoth n'ghft ehye Jake?” Their hands come up to reveal something that you don’t quite catch the shape of, but it’s as luminescent, if not more so than their face. They open their hands and thrust them at you, in a flash, you feel like…
Like falling.
Your spine turns to jelly and the world fades around you, colours flashing rapidly from green to purple to orange and red. Blood red. Then a pair of hands, familiar touch to your skin, grabbing you from behind.
“Dirk… come now, wake up, darling.” Lips press to your forehead and you jerk upward, gulping air like it’s water.
“Well, what did you see?” Rose asks, your memory fogs.
What were you doing?
“I don’t…” you supply uselessly, causing Rose to roll her eyes. The same horrible habit you’ve observed in her brother.
“Oh hush now, Dirk’s been through quite a row. It’s just fine if he can’t remember quite yet. Let him wake up the rest of the way. Then you can press him all you like, Rose.”
Jake.
Your arms curl around his torso, finding the slot in the small of his back where you fit as perfectly as a puzzle piece.
Warm.
“My, my… what’s this about, love?” Jake’s hands come up from your shoulders to rub the temples of your head. A soothing motion he does when you can’t sleep at night or you wake with nightmares. It makes you calm down near instantaneously but instead of melting into a puddle, you freeze.
Rose.
She’s still in the room so you’d better cool it.
“I can tell when I’m not wanted, dear brother.” Rose stands, skirts swishing with the movement before spilling back to the floor. She starts to gather up her things, pinching the wicks of still lit candles with her fingers to snuff them out. “It’s fine. It’s not like this was for a reason or that I needed to ask you if you saw her or anything.”
“Her”?
Fuck.
“Kanaya.” You whisper, your brain flashes with memories of the near-ghostly…
thing
that you saw.
Kanaya.
“Yes, Kanaya. Did you see her?” Rose asks, standing in place but head still turned away from you.
You pause,
did
you see her? “I’m… maybe.”
“Oh! Hah…
maybe!
”
“I’m not-- that… whatever I saw, if that was her…” You taper off, not really sure how to explain whatever the fuck it was you just saw. “Maybe. That’s my final answer.”
“Would you say ‘maybe’ if it were our baby brother’s love interest who went and fucked off to wherever the hell you just were? Would you be sitting here, hoping I’d be able to just
read your mind
and see if the eldest child-- who is supposed to care for us by the by!-- if he’d seen the one fucking person he was supposed to be looking for?!” She swings around to face you, dark makeup smearing down her now tear-streaked face.
Jake’s arms move, pulling you closer to his chest. Rose’s hands lower, the beginnings of what you assume are an extremely emotional display of her powers fizzles out. She sighs deeply wiping under her eyes before turning back to her candles and incense.
“You have
one fucking night
to get your act together, Dirk. I’ll be here tomorrow to collect my data.” Everything is swept into her bag, storming toward the door. You wanted to warn her not to swipe candles that were just put out into a nice bag like that, but before you can, she’s out, door slamming behind her.
“What the fuck.”
Jake laughs softly, fingers tracing patterns of his own design through your scalp. “I very well could say the same. What indeed.” He pauses, fingers stilling. “Let’s go get you cleaned up and into bed, pet. It’s awfully late and you’ll want to be well rested for the grilling that Lalonde is inevitably going to put you through tomorrow.”
He helps you up, supporting your back as you stand on your feet again. Then, after you’re steady, he begins to lift himself up. You put your hand out and help him out, to which he returns a soft thank you. Standing full and tall now, he dusts off his hands before walking out ahead of you, turning in the direction of your bathroom.
“Bath?” He questions from down the hallway. You hear the towel closet open for a moment. Then, the sound of cloth shifting and the door closes again.
“Yes… thank you.” Your head spins a little but you catch yourself before you can stumble. Strider’s don’t break and they
definitely
don’t stumble around like drunken hooligans.
What the fuck did you see?
Was
that Kanaya? If it was, it’s a far cry from the one you know from your own world, before she seemingly disappeared like stardust into a seers divination pool.
And where the fuck were you, for that matter? All of the familiar items were there, in their places as they should be, and yet, you can’t shake the feeling that something was different. That hollow, empty feeling was there in your chest. Something, other than what you assume was Kanaya, was wrong there.
You hope Rose can at least shed some light on that… what was it she called it? A pocket dimension or something like that? Well. You hope she can at least explain what that was or give you some sort of hint for your next visit there.
Either way, you need a bath. You reek of acacia cinders and cherry wood smoke and that scent is not exactly so welcoming when you’re trying to sleep.
You step into the hallway, following along and to the bathroom. Your eyes catch on something peculiar though… there’s a bit of cloth just laying about in the living room.
Curious.
You think for a moment about just ignoring it before something deep within your soul screams at you to turn back and inspect it. You walk past the bathroom, hearing the sounds of the water rushing from the tap to fill the tub. Your feet pick up pace, walking to the rug in front of the fireplace.
There, on the ground, exactly in the spot you saw in your…
vision
is the house robe--
your
house rose. Dread pools in your stomach and you force your eyes to peer up at the fireplace.
Sure enough, it’s empty, save for a starter log set in the small andiron that Rose gifted to you all those years ago when Jake bought this house for the two of you. But… there’s something there. A small broach in the shape of a moth.
Kanaya’s broach.
She wouldn’t leave home without it and from what Rose said on the day she first disappeared, she took it with her when she left.
Even more curious.
“Dirk, where did you bugger off to?” Jake calls, voice clearly annoyed with your disappearance. He steps into the mouth of the hallway, clutching onto the wall with his right hand and gesturing with his left. “Why in the blazes are you out here with your house coat?”
You quickly tuck the broach into your pocket purely on instinct. “Why did you leave it here?”
“I didn’t.” He answers, cocking his head to the side. “We’ve no time for this. Come now, I’ve even put salts in there for you. Get in while the gettin’s good.”
He saunters back down the hallway and you can hear the sound of his foot tapping impatiently. Well fine then.