Chapter Text
The walk back out of the Meteor’s labyrinth was one of the longest of Dave Strider’s young life. He didn’t know what happened next, where to start, nor where there was to go from here. He and Karkat broke up or decided they weren’t going to date or whatever- then what? Typically you stop being friends after a break-up, right? How the fuck was he supposed to do that? What the hell else did he have? Maybe Karkat was right, and that was a little desperate. So what? He didn’t know fuck all about romance but he was pretty sure all human connection was just a little bit desperate. Intimacy was hard and everyone wanted it and no one was good at it.
So that was it, then? They just give up? A little more than two years left on this shitty-ass rock and he’d be spending it avoiding Rose because things were weird, and avoiding Terezi because things were weird, and avoiding Karkat, too?
It just wasn’t happening. Whatever Karkat was going through, however he felt, whatever the actual problem was, Dave wasn’t going to let him martyr himself under some deluded idea that it would protect him. Fine. No quadrants, no romance, no hand holding, whatever, but bros were fucking bros, okay? That didn’t stop just because there were other stupid feelings involved.
They moved as a group, which made all of this worse. The girls were giving them some distance, Vriska and Terezi in the lead, Rose and Kanaya behind them, and Dave trailing a few feet behind Karkat. This meant he couldn’t even attempt to break the silence, not to talk about feelings or anything else. Vriska was ranting loudly about Rose without actually talking to her, which Rose was ignoring for the most part; though she and Kanaya kept whispering back and forth to each other. It was all a lot of noise to Dave. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t stop thinking.
Then they were back on familiar ground, stepping off a transportalizer into one of the upper wing libraries. The girls peeled off, still arguing about Gamzee. Dave had gathered from context that Vriska had used some kind of mind control on him and everyone was really upset about it, but he didn’t know enough about trolls or Gamzee to have an opinion. Not without Karkat’s input, and Karkat hadn’t said a word.
It was… eerie.
“So, we can talk now or we can talk after you’ve had a nap and a snack, cuz you look like the walking dead,” said Dave, catching up with Karkat before he could scurry off on his own. “Not about romance shit, cuz whatever, but about what just happened.”
“Or, how about this?” Karkat responded without looking at him, without turning toward him, just staring down at his shoes like they held all the mysteries in the universe. “We don’t, I never bother you with my problems again, and everyone is better off for it.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” said Dave. “Absolutely not. Dude, you’re stuck with me for another two years. I’m not gonna get on your case now, you just had a whole ordeal, but I’m gonna get on your case. I’m not gonna stop getting on your case. It’s gonna be two more years of me getting on your case every single day. That’s almost a sweep, y’know? If I’m doing my math right. And I’m pretty good at math, alright, not to brag. I make numbers my bitch.”
Karkat broke his staring contest with his toes. Dave didn’t know what to make of the expression on his face. He looked crushingly hurt, but determined. Exhausted. Maybe hopeful? Or maybe it was just Dave that was hopeful, Dave who needed Karkat’s resolve to break, Dave who was exactly as desperate as Karkat accused and Dave who didn’t care. Their whole situation was pretty fucking desperate!
“So back to my previous question,” said Dave. “Talk now, or later? In person, or text? Or, hell, we can dream bubble it, if that’s easier. I don’t know. You got options but ‘No, never,’ isn’t one of them.”
“AaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA AUGH!” Karkat said, plopping down into a wooden desk chair and letting his head fall to the desk itself with a thud.
“Or random screaming, guess I didn’t consider that one,” said Dave.
“Ugh!” Karkat continued. “Oogh! Arg! Oof.”
“Sure,” said Dave. “Sure.”
Karkat gave a long and drawn out sigh, not just like his soul was escaping his body but like he was trying to force it out, lungs rasping dry and empty at the end of it.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Later, then. I’m fucking tired, Dave.”
“Sure,” Dave said again, fighting hard to keep his tone even, to not sound happy or relieved or concerned. He didn’t know what Karkat wanted from him or what he needed but couldn’t ask for. All Dave knew was that he had to do something, or he was going to lose the last good thing he had going for him.
---
Karkat didn’t sleep that day. He didn’t even try. Instead he spent the time pacing his room or lying on the floor, shifting around various piles or just letting the cold, hard tile dig into his subdermal carapice. He spent most of his days in a spiral of self hatred, but this had to be one of the worst episodes in recent memory.
He should’ve just died. Why hadn’t he just died? At any point, really. Dying before the meteor would’ve saved Terezi a lot of awkwardness and a world of heartache for Dave. Before that? Without him, maybe the session would have gone better. If he’d never existed to begin with, maybe every session would’ve gone better. If Skaia had never conspired to create him, then perhaps the trolls would have won, and maybe Earth never would have been seeded and Dave would have no game, no session, no need for him.
It was just as he’d feared. He had already fucked up and made Dave think that he needed him. This was the worst case scenario.
When Dave’s text came the next night/human morning, he wanted to ignore it. Unfortunately he was a weak willed little parasite, and as much as he knew that the best solution would be to completely stonewall Dave until he gave up (which he would, as soon as he realized what a waste of effort it was), he couldn’t let a message sit unread, nor unresponded to. Especially not if it was Dave.
The message was just a single word.
TG: roof?
Karkat was starting to understand what the roof meant to Dave. The first time he’d stood up there, all Karkat could think about was the infinite void pressing down on them, and the seemingly infinite drop from the towers to the crater pocked stone far, far below. It was fucking absurd how he could be so scared of death and oblivion and so, so certain that it was all he was good for.
But it wasn’t like that for Dave. How had he described it? The way feeling small and insignificant made his problems feel small and insignificant, too? Karkat’s problems felt all consuming, like the end of the world. The end of what world, though? Alternia was already dead, and essentially, so was he. He could use some distance, some perspective.
More than that, he wanted to see Dave again. He wanted to talk to him. He was selfish and stupid and he wanted, wanted, wanted so badly that he couldn’t fight the want anymore.
CG: HAVE YOU EATEN?
CG: MAKE SURE YOU HAVE BREAKFAST AND A SHOWER.
CG: I’LL MEET YOU THERE.
---
Dave was already waiting when Karkat joined him, his cape spread out next to him like a blanket, a couple of thermoses tucked between his knees. He turned to look at Karkat over his shoulder and patted the cape before offering him one of the thermoses.
“Soup?” he said. “Too bad, you can’t say no. It’s warm. Eat some soup.”
“I don’t want-” Karkat started to say, but then he stopped. He sat down next to Dave. He took the soup.
“So,” said Dave.
“So,” said Karkat. Karkat twisted open the thermos and had a sip. The broth was warm and savory, and he drank more than he’d meant to before realizing it. When was the last time he’d had any food or water? He couldn’t remember.
“So I guess…” Dave paused to consider. He couldn’t fuck this up. This had to be one of the most vital conversations of his life, probably. Definitely the most vital to his immediate future. “So. I know some of the bad stuff about Gamzee, he had an addiction or something, and then he killed a bunch of people. But. The good stuff. Do you wanna talk about that?”
Karkat sat the thermos down and sank in on himself, both hands balling up in his hair, his shoulders slumped until his forehead was practically on his knees.
“No, not really,” he said. Now that he was here, all he wanted was to leave. “Supposedly he’s my friend- because this is how you treat a friend, I’m a fantastic fucking friend- and I let him get puppeted around by a psycho for half a sweep. That’s all there is to it. I’m a fuck up, just like always. You’re not my moirail, Dave, you don’t owe me this.”
“I don’t care who owes who what,” said Dave. “Surprise, fuckass, you don’t get to decide what’s in my best interest. I decided to be here and to talk to you and that’s what I want. It’s not a moirail thing, it’s an I care about you thing. I’m not gonna stop caring about you. I can’t.”
“Fuck!” said Karkat. ”Fuck, fuck. Fuck!! You’re so stupid.”
“I know.”
“I hate this. I hate you.”
“I know.”
“Dave…” Karkat couldn’t talk about this. But how was he supposed to talk about Gamzee, either? Karkat had failed him profoundly. He gritted his teeth, his jaw clicking audibly.
“I’m no good at this,” said Dave. “I can’t do the thing you do, where you interrogate out what I really want to talk about without me realizing you’re tricking me into honesty. So I just have to ask, directly, with my words. How… how are you feeling? What are you feeling? Can you tell me that?”
Karkat ran his thumbs over his nubby horns, pulling at his hair until it hurt, letting his hands fall free only to ball back into fists in his lap.
“I should have done something sooner,” he said finally. “I should have looked for him. I still don’t know where he is now.”
“You don’t even have to worry about that,” said Dave. “I talked to Rose. We’re gonna do something, stuff’s gonna change. Vriska’s already agreed and everything, we’re just debating on exactly what goes down now, but she doesn’t get to just keep using him as a slave. I promise, Karkat. You’re not on your own. You don’t have to fix this alone. There’s more humane ways to keep a prisoner, man, it’s not like we have to let Vriska keep him or just let him go.”
Karkat nodded stiffly. It didn’t feel like much comfort, but it was something.
“I thought Gamzee was my moirail, for a while,” Karkat admitted. “Not that that means much, when I thought Sollux or Kanaya or John could be my moirail. I probably don’t have a moirail or any other quadmates because I’m fundamentally undesirable. The point is, I should’ve noticed. I should’ve known. I should’ve realized what the sopor withdrawals would do to him. I should’ve talked to him sooner. I should’ve stopped him. I should’ve- should’ve died trying to stop him. I didn’t do anything. I still can’t do anything.”
Dave wanted to hold his hand, or hug him, or anything at all. He didn’t know where the boundaries were anymore, especially not physically. After what they had become, it was difficult to walk things back to the way they had been. Not impossible, though. He could be just friends, if that was the only option. It’s just that being cagey about touch should’ve been easy. It normally was, and still was with everyone else. Was that more of what Karkat was talking about? The desperation?
As he spoke, he felt like a hypocrite. How was he supposed to convince Karkat of the very thing he was struggling to convince himself?
“Man,” he said. “I get it, kinda. I know you want to save everyone, and that’s fuckin’ noble, dude, it really is. But bro. My man. My guy. It’s not your responsibility to save anyone but yourself. And. And… and it sure as hell ain’t your job to save the people who hurt you. Karkat, it is not your responsibility to change the people who are hurting you.”
“It is my responsibility, and even if it wasn’t, that doesn’t matter,” Karkat said. “I deserve to be hurt, and if it can help anyone then I have to. What is the point of me, otherwise?”
“There shouldn’t have to be a point,” Dave said resolutely. “All of this, absolutely all of this is all fucked up . If we’re gonna talk about should’ve and shouldn’t’ves, then none of us should be in this situation. We should all be normal kids with normal lives and happy families, but we’re not, and none of us are ever gonna be. That’s the shitty truth. But we’re here now, Karkat. We’re not in the past. We’re not in the future, where whatever happens in the new session happens. We’re here, and this might be our only chance. This might be it . We might all be dead in two years. So. So- So the point is, we get to decide what the point is. The point of being Karkat is that you get to wake up and eat soup and sit here listening to my inane ramblings. You’re not actually required to do anything to earn that.”
Karkat hated that he was tearing up. He felt so pathetic, so used up, so tired. He was too exhausted to argue. He wanted Dave to be right.
“Karkat,” Dave said, and he reached oh-so-tentatively to put a hand on Karkat’s shoulder, giving him plenty of time to stop him or pull away. His hand was sweaty, and stuck to the cloth of Karkat’s sleeve. “Here’s the thing. It’s too late to push me away. I’m already invested in you, and I know- I know you don’t actually want me to leave you alone to self flagellate until the new session. So I’m gonna make your life better however I can for as long as I know you, and it’ll be a lot easier for both of us if you let me.”
Karkat didn’t shy away, even though Dave’s hand on his shoulder felt like iron, felt like knives, felt like fire. Heavy, burning, like the stinging in his throat, his eyes, his chest.
“I,” Karkat said, harsh and breathy, prying out every syllable one at a time. “Can’t. I can’t be your moirail, Dave. I can’t be your matesprit. I can’t be your boyfriend.”
“Then don’t,” said Dave. “I’m not asking you to, if that’s not what you want. Be my friend. Be Karkat, in proximity to Dave.”
It was a big ask. For Karkat, being Karkat was the worst possible thing. Being in proximity to Dave, though… That was easy. It even made being Karkat a little easier.
“I have… daymares,” Karkat said, looking out into the dark sky, specked only with the most distant lights of multicolored dream bubbles. “I’ve always had daymares. I learned to dream walk because it’s the only way I could close my eyes during the day without panicking. But now, the daymares are in control again, and sometimes I hallucinate when I’m awake. I’m so fucking scared, Dave. I’m so fucking scared all of the time.”
Again, Dave wanted to hold him, to pull him into his arms and rock him gently and tell him everything would be okay.
“Me too, man,” Dave said. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be anything for anyone. You can just be scared, and I’ll be here with you.”
Karkat reached, shakily, and took Dave’s hand in his own. It was hard not to think that it had to mean something. It was impossible not to try and define everything down to its smallest detail, so he could make sense of it all, make normalcy out of the abnormal patterns of his own brain and desires. What was Dave to him? What was anybody to anybody? How could he be anything to anybody? How could he not? He wasn’t strong enough to push Dave away.
Karkat stared out into the horizon, unable to speak past the lump in his throat, wishing an answer would manifest itself from the void. Actually... Actually, wait. Was there something in the distance? It was hard to make out, but now that he'd noticed, it was impossible to deny. There was something out there, something moving.
"What the fuck is that?" he said, suddenly urgent. Dave looked up, squinting.
"I don't see any... whoa, what is that?" Dave said, dropping Karkat's hand to stand up. It wasn't moving directly toward them but it was moving closer at a meandering pace, a tiny purple dot floating idly through nothing and nowhere. "You cool if I fly up and get a better look?"
"Am I cool if-" Karkat repeated incredulously. "Go, get the fuck up there! My emotional state doesn't matter if we're about to be attacked by something, you shitdicked simpleton."
Dave paused to give him a searching look before kicking off, hovering straight up until Karkat started to worry he might get untethered from the meteor, somehow, and float off forever.
"Uhhhhh," Dave called back down. "Ummm. Uh! It looks like... I think it's a babe in purple PJs?"