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In Which Bro Fights the Closet Monster

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Bro pulled the pillow over his head, trying to block out the wailing three year old that was sitting behind him. God, that kid never shut up. Out of all the space babies he could’ve adopted, he got the noisy motherfucker that cried over everything and made messes like it was the sickest thing ever. Finally, Bro caved. He was only eighteen, but here he was with a kid that probably belonged to some alien that dropped the little shit-machine on their way to the supermarket or something. Even worse was the fact that Bro was already a sucker for the kid.

He sat up, giving the sniffling and sobbing red-eyed child a tired look. Sleep was not something Bro got often nowadays. He was pretty sure Dave was doing this just to mess with him.

“What is it?” Bro grumbled, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.

Dave sniffled and said in a voice that wobbled like a warped record on a turntable, “Closet.”

Fuck, again with the closet. It was always the closet. Dave needed at least mix it up and go, “under the bed” or “in my shoe” or something. But, no. It was always the closet with him.

Sighing, Bro tossed off the blankets and crawled out of bed, Dave scurrying after him like a lost puppy. For the twentieth time that week, he stepped into Dave’s room and yanked open the closet. Dave let out a girlish shriek and clung to Bro’s leg, whimpering. Bro waited for Dave to look, and when he did, the boy whined, “But closet! Closet monster!”

Bro sighed. Man, Dave was lucky Bro’s dad wasn’t here. His dad would’ve kicked both their asses. Dave for waking him up, and Bro for letting Dave stay with him in the first place. Shaking away his thoughts of his less than loving father, he gave the closet an annoyed look. What could he do to get Dave to stop waking him up in the middle of the night about the closet?

After a minute of thought, he smiled slightly and put his hand on Dave’s tiny shoulder, turning him around so he was facing him. “Tell you what, little man. I’ll take care of that closet monster once and for all, okay?”

Dave sniffled and stared up at him with wide eyes. “You will?” Was what Dave tried to say, but all that came out was a hiccup and a whimper.

“All right, little dude. Do me a favor and go and watch TV. I’ll take care of this.” Dave nodded and ran out of the room, and the smile fell from Bro’s face. This was the most retarded thing he had ever done, he swore it. But if it both made Dave happy and let Bro get some sleep, then so be it.

He stood and left the room, heading for his bedroom. He could feel Dave watching him, which was what he had expected, and when he came out with his bokken, he knew Dave was gaping at him as if he couldn’t believe his brother was actually going to fight the big, bad closet monster. Bro closed Dave’s door behind him, hearing a whine from Dave – who had run over the second he realized what Bro was doing – and calling, “The fight will be too awesome and amazing for your little eyes, Dave.”

Bro locked the door and sat on the bed, glaring at the closet and said loudly, “Come out and fight like a man, you stupid fucker.” He cringed a little. Oops. Man, Dave’s babysitter was going to chew him out – again – if Dave picked that word up like he did “shit” and “asshole.” He spent the next five minutes sitting in silence, occasionally kicking the closet door to make it sound like there was an actual fight going on – Dave was three, so he didn’t have to wreck the room or anything, just needed to make some noise.

After the five minute mark, Bro stood, unlocked the door and just gave Dave a thumbs up and a smirk. “Easy as pie, little dude.” Dave smiled widely up at him and hugged Bro as tightly as he could.

He looked up at his big brother, the gap in his teeth making his shrill voice whistle a little as he exclaimed, “You beat him! You beat him! Bro beat him!” he then let go of his brother and ran into his room, where he blew a messy raspberry at the closet.

Bro laughed, shaking his head and nodding to Dave’s bed. “All right, kiddo, time for bed. Again.” Dave pouted at him, but crawled into bed nonetheless, smiling up at Bro when Bro tucked him in. Like he usually did, Bro sat next to him until Dave had drifted to sleep, which was when he would brush Dave’s bangs from his forehead and press a light kiss to his forehead. “Night, Dave. Don’t fuckin’ wake me up again please.” With that murmured goodnight, Bro yawned and stood, making his way back to his own bed so he could pass out before he had to go to work in the morning.

Two hours later, he felt frantic, tiny hands shaking his arm and he groaned, opening his eyes and seeing Dave’s tired face peering over his shoulder at him. Bro groaned and rolled onto his stomach. “What is it, dude?”

Dave dropped his voice to a whisper. “There’s a monster under my bed…can you beat him too?”

The life of a badass with a three year old fear machine is hard.

Fuck he hoped Dave got past the monsters-everywhere phase soon.