Chapter Text
The two of them were stuffing child bodies into the dumpster out front. That was four kids taken care of now. Just gotta nab one more lone kid, and then they could call it a day. Should be easy enough.
But as they hauled the small bodies under the dumpster hood, Dave’s neck snapped to the side to stare at the corner of the building. Noticing his friend's sudden silent inactivity, Jack too paused to look see what Dave was alert about.
“...Hold on one sec,” Dave said somewhat warily as he quietly disappeared around the building corner.
Jack simply shrugged behind and went back to pushing the boy’s corpse fully into the dumpster enough that it would close. But before long, a child-like yelp was heard from around the corner followed by a—
“Gotcha!”
Dave, having snuck up on it with his trademark stealth, successfully nabbed the child he'd spotted spying on them and held it up by the armpits from behind. But as he turned the squirming kiddin around, his (metaphorical) heart melted without warning as the scared girl nervously closed her tearing eyes from seeing her captor.
Dave's jaw practically fell open.
“Oh my god… you’re a me.
You’re a me!”
At his words, the confused child chanced an open eye and saw a gigantic purple smile staring back at her. Rightfully terrified for her safety, she whimpered and further intensified her struggle, but to little avail.
“Sportsy! Look what I got!” he said, reappearing from the alley to see his orange partner who didn't seem particularly interested.
“What, what do you—" Once "Sportsy" got a proper look at the child in Dave's hands, his expression turned dubious.
"What… is that?”
The girl had purple skin.
“She’s a real live aubergine kid in the flesh! Reminds me o’ myself when I was her age!
Isn’t she just neat?”
“That’s… wow,” his old sport answered hesitantly to humour him.
Before pulling out his knife.
“Welp, then let’s get number five over with—”
Dave dumped the kid on the ground in outrage before his partner could finish to slap Sportsy firmly in the face.
“—OW! What the hell is wrong with you!?”
“What the hell is wrong with you!?” Dave retorted more indignantly.
“Wh-What!?—Whaddya mean, a kid’s just a kid!” Jack answered back incredulously.
“Are ya outta yer mind!? She’s a living, breathing person!” Dave huffed before turning to scoop the girl back up.
But the girl had made a run for it seconds ago.
“Oh no no no, you get back here!” Dave swiftly booked it after her.
But Jack just stood there next to the dumpster, flabbergasted at what had just transpired as he watched Dave rush back into Fazbender's main entrance. Scott, at the same time, exited the doors himself, clearly disoriented by the Aubergine that had just ran past him. But their phone-headed boss quickly locked eyes with the gawking Clementine.
“...Employee, THERE you are! What are you doing loitering out here by the dumps!?
…a-and with a knife…?”
“...Look man, blame Ronaldo, he’s the one who sent me there for ‘ingredients’!" the orange employee tried to explain to Scott on the way in. "The knife was just to cut off a slab off of the meat!”
“Well never do ‘errands’ for Ronaldo ever again, am I clear?” he chastised, already feeling done with this whole chit-chat.
“Yes, chef,” his employee answered back sarcastically.
“Right then. Back to work you go, employee.” Scott waved him off as he sunk his attention back to his other more pressing concerns.
“Now where the heck has Dave gone off to…”
But as Scott approached his office to check the cameras, he was met with Dave and some kid messing with the computer.
“What are you doing?”
“O-Oh, hey Scott!” Dave hurried his typing.
“What is a child doing in an employee-only space?” Only after asking did Scott realize with barely contained horror that the little girl's skin was also a concerning shade of purple.
“Didn’t you know, Scott?” The hurried typing intensified until Dave finished with a triumphant click after which he swiveled around to reveal a smug smile.
“It’s Bring-your-kid-to-work Day today. Or didya miss the company-wide memo?”
“What.”
“See for yourself!”
As Dave slid his chair away from the desk with a kick of the leg, Scott walked up to read what was pulled up on the computer screen: sure enough, the company newsletter Dave had pulled up had a typo-ridden section about it being “brign your kid to word day" (sic). Just great.
“But how the heck do you have a kid!? There’s no way you’re a father!?” The concern in Scott’s voice was uncannily sincere.
“C’mon kid, lemme show ya the robots!” said Dave to the girl, completely ignoring his boss.
He grabbed her wrist, and she complied, still greatly confused and nervous but at least calm enough to see that she (probably) wasn't in immediate danger.
“Th-That’s not a good id—" But Scott's attempted warning trailed off into sheer confusion.
"…wh-what…”
“See kid? This one here’s a rabbit! Y’know, ‘hop hop!’ and all that? Eh?”
But the girl was too intimidated by the 7ft faceless monstrosity towering over her to respond.
“Eggplant, my fucking face is gone,” said the faceless monstrosity.
“Ah fuck off, rabbit. I wouldn’t give it to ya if I had it.”
“Ouch.”
“Alright, you seem bored," Dave said, turning to the girl next to him. “Where should we go next?”
But before Dave could get an answer—
“Dave.”
“Huh?”
That was Old Sport speaking with a low yet urgent tone of voice. He turned to see his partner in all of his orange glory looking back at him with vague unamusement and crossed arms.
“Saferoom. Now.”
“C’mon kid, who wants to see me n’ my pal dress up and dance?”
Jack smacked his own face as he marched them toward the Saferoom hallway.
“C’mooon, old sport, let’s keep her!”
“Dave, we’re child murderers! Not kidnappers! She’s seen too much, we can’t just—”
“How DARE you! You wouldn’t rat on us, now wouldya?” Dave asked the child.
The girl shuddered as two rotten faces suddenly turned their attention toward her, but she vehemently shook her head to give them the answer they wanted.
“Y’don’t really talk much, do ya?” Dave observed.
She stared back.
“What’s yer name?”
She looked down in front of her feet.
“Dave, she probably has parents looking for her! O-Or some kind of authorities? She wasn't just dropped off at Fazbender's, which means someone out there must actually be worried about her!”
“Tah, no way Jose! She’s gotta be a tried and true street rat for sure!” Dave assured with obvious pride.
Dave knelt to pat her on the head; she nervously persevered through the gesture as if her life depended on it.
“Well kid, if you’re gonna give us your name, now’s the time to speak up! Otherwise, we’re gonna name ya!”
“Dave, don’t get attached to it. Don’t name her.”
“Geez, I didn’t realize my partner here was such a heartless bitch,” said Dave with a disapproving side-eye.
“Wh— WE KILL KIDS, DAVE!”
“I don’t see what that has to do with you bein’ such an asshole.”
Jack was stunned to silence.
“Aright, Pruny, it’s just an hour and a half left of our shift, and then we’ll show ya a new home!”
“What? What new home!?” Jack asked, coming out more worried than angry at this point.
“Yours, genius!” said Dave matter-of-factly as he turned to give his dear old pal a nice smug grin.
“No! Take her home yourself!”
“Oh please, I hardly have what you'd call a ‘home!’ Don't ya think a girl deserves a warm, loving abode with a soft bed and food in the fridge? One like... yours?”
“Well, take her to an orphanage then!”
The girl let out a nervous inhale, and Dave's good mood entirely disappeared.
“Man, you really are heartless. Now why the fuck would you ever suggest something like that?”
Thrown off guard by the aubergine's unusual seriousness, Jack decided remaining silent would be the best way to de-escalate his apparent faux-pas.
And it seemed to work, as the purple kiddie strangler simply sighed and turned his attention back to the girl.
“C’mon, Pruny, let’s go find that creepy ass virgin and get you a new shirt. Which robot ya want on it?”
“‘Pruny?’ C’mon, don’t be mean to the poor girl!” Jack scoffed.
“Whaddya mean? I think it’s a cute name! A cute name for a cute little aubergine!”
As Dave bent to pick her up and put her on his shoulders, he was met with surprisingly little resistance from the confused girl.
Jack decided not to argue. Arguing would warrant suggesting a better name of his own, and Jack would have enough sympathy to give her any other name than Pruny.
And he knew that that would be the first step to attachment.