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Chapter Text

"Can you tell me what this is, Karkat?"

In her hand, Aranea Serket, speech therapist, holds her white ceramic coffee mug. The edge of it is stained pink from where her lipsticked lips have pressed against it to take a sip of the black, caffeinated beverage. Karkat stares at the object, moving the word around on his tongue before saying it aloud.

"Cup."

Aranea nods, head bending down so she can write some notes on her clipboard. "Perfect," she responds, meeting Karkat's eyes again. "And this?" She shows him her writing utensil, rolling it between her two fingers.

"A pencil," Karkat answers, writing the word on his notepad in front of him to help him think. Again, Aranea jots down some notes, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

"And that?" She doesn't look up from her clipboard, still jotting down notes, as she points to the computer on her desk.

She hasn't been Karkat's therapist long. A few weeks at the most. However, Aranea is his third in six months. With the bit of knowledge she knows of his disability, she can deduce what happened. He woke up on a day of the appointment and forgot all about it and his therapist. Later, Karkat may have tried to call him or her, reschedule since surely they'd understand, but couldn't remember their name or number and by that time had given up anyway. To herself, Aranea wonders if Karkat has any hope for himself.

Karkat Vantas is rendered speechless. The word is in his head, can see it clearly, and he opens his mouth to try to vocalize it. He coughs, shuts his mouth, and concentrates. He knows this. He uses one everyday for college writing assignments and to put in job applications. Again he opens his mouth and tries to tell Aranea what the appliance is and again he cannot say it. The patient feels his frustration growing and he gives up, looking down at his scuffed up Vans.

"I," he says, hands fisting in the material of his pants, "I can't."

Once more, his therapist nods her head and writes a couple words on her clipboard. "Alright." Her voice is crisp, business like. "Let's move on to writing and reading."

---

Karkat has been living with Anomia and Broca's Aphasia for one year, eleven months, and six days. Not that he's counting. He's learned the reason why. Slight brain damage due to a seizure caused by a high temperature. Karkat remembers little of that week he was sick, his rising fever and aching body. He knows he slept most of the time. He knows he woke up in a hospital hooked up to wires. And he definitely knows that he had a hard time speaking since.

Speech aphasia are relatively interesting. Or, Karkat would think that, had he not became the victim of two. They are caused by damage to significant areas of the brain. Anomia, by far the worst of the two, manages to make Karkat forget names of people,places, things and sometimes he can't even remember someone's face or a date. It comes with Broca's aphasia as a package deal in his case.

Broca's is a bit more bare able. Though sometimes he can't vocalize the word in his head, he can see it in his mind's eye. Karkat is hardly ever seen without a small, pocket notepad and a pen, kept close for when this happens. He's found that sometimes writing the word can help him voice it as well. Other times, not being able to say the word yet know exactly what it is is more frustrating than not being able to remember it as a whole.

He knows stupid facts about his aphasia, as well, figuring he should know all he can. For example, he knows Broca's apahsia is caused from damage to the Broca's Area, located in the left parietal of his brain. Kankri, his brother, brings him medical journals to read sometimes, trying to help out as best as he can. And Karkat can only hope his apahsia get easier to live with.

----

It is six o'clock, the day after his appointment with Aranea, and Karkat is relaxing in his apartment, on his couch with the TV on, it's low volume creating a comforting white noise. He's already taken three ibuprofen, obliterating his substantial headache. His phone lays on the coffee table, ringer on just in case his brother or maybe even Sollux calls. In his lap his cat, Thisbe, lounges and in his hands he holds "Message in a Bottle" by Nicholas Sparks, his guilty reading pleasure.

This is how Karkat spends most of his days when he's not with his shrink or when Sollux and Gamzee decide to pop by. Karkat has always been comfortable in silence and with himself. Content with being alone. He almost prefers it, actually. It was better than listening to his brother drone on about a subject he didn't care about or raging over video games with Sollux. Being alone was nice. Staying in was nice. Going out, nowadays, was a hassle. He could count on one hand the amount of times he's went out with his friends since the incident.

Not that he went out with them much before. No, usually he spent his time just like he was today, with the exception of Saturday. Saturday, Sollux would pick him up in a crowded, loud, car occupied with Gamzee, Aradia, and Terezi, and they'd go out to a local restaurant that served beer and burgers and had the best onion rings Karkat had ever tasted. Karkat would always order one beer and drink half of it. Terezi drank four or five. Sollux kept it steady at two. Aradia ordered water. And Gamzee? Well, usually the waiter was forced to cut him off.

Every week Karkat looked forward to those Saturdays and those onion rings and the laughs him and his best, closest, loyalest friends would share.

He hasn't been on a Saturday outing for one year, eleven months, and six days.

Convincing himself he didn't miss it was hard, and sometimes on Saturdays Karkat would find himself staring at his phone, willing it to ring. And sometimes, very seldom now, it did. But Karkat always found himself saying no, maybe next time, and hanging up before whichever one called could talk him into it.

He's more than vaguely aware that today is, in fact, Saturday. The clock in the kitchen reads 6:47 and he knows the others are getting ready to go out. Karkat knows their routines and schedules almost as well as he knows his own. That's what being friends since high school does.

At 7:03, according to his wall clock, there's a knock on his apartment door, followed by, "Kark, you better open the door." Karkat recognizes the voice as Aradia's, and as he pads over to the door, he screws his face up, trying to put up the annoyed charade at her sudden appearance. He's more than a little curious about what she's doing here, though. It's Saturday, after all.

The door swings open to reveal those previously mentioned four best, closest, loyalest friends, dressed casually save for Aradia, who wore a red dress and matching heels. They're all smiling at him (though Terezi was gazing a bit to the left of him).

"Honestly, KK," Sollux lisps, shaking his head. "Put some shoes on, come on. We don't have all floggin' night."

Karkat blinks in response, taking a moment to collect his words in his mind before answering, rather intelligently, "...huh?"

"Uuuugh!" Terezi says, pushing past the other and grabbing onto Karkat's arm. "It's obvious, Karkat! We're taking you out!" She drags him back into his apartment, others following. "Get your shoes and your wallet and let's go!"

Now he gets it. They're forcing him to go out. Jesus, he thinks, he'll just have to make up some excuse why he can't go. Say Kankri's coming over or something. Or, better yet, say Kankri is coming over to take him clothes shopping. "Look," he starts, pulling his arm free of Terezi. "I can't, not tonight. I. . .," and just like that, he'd forgotten what he was going to say.

Sollux sighs and nudges Gamzee. "Told you he was going to try to get out of it. He had an excuse all lined up for us." Karkat watches as he takes off his glasses and cleans them. "Let's just go."

"Come on, Karkat," Aradia says in her melodic voice. "Friends and onion rings. What more could you ask for?"

"It's tradition," Gamzee adds, his arm winding around Terezi's waist while her own hands fold together in a praying gesture and her lower lip sticks out in a pout. "And beer, brother. Best motherfuckin' beer here."

In the end, Karkat isn't sure why he pulls on his shoes and shoves his wallet in his pocket. It just seems right.

Familiar.

--

There are times when Dave Strider wishes he could speak, so others would hear his tone when he says, "Fuck off," and know he's serious as a fruitcake in the winter.

Tonight is one of those times. His sister and best friend sit across from him, sipping their beer and Sprite, and Dave just knows they're holding hands under the table. Next to Dave is Jade, John's little sister. Rose's hair is set in place by a headband and John's eyes look especially blue. As if they were sparkling.

Dave has a hard time not staring at John. The two had been inseparable since fourth grade, when Dave stopped John and made him give Dave a ride home on his bike's handlebars. "Why should I?" John had asked, arms crossing over his chest in what would have been defiance if his eyes hadn't been darting around looking for someone to save him from Dave Strider.

"Two reasons," said Dave, raising two fingers. "One, I have an xBox at home and I'll let you play it. And two. Two is I won't make fun of your beaver teeth again."

The deal was made that easily, and John had played Dave's xBox for a good hour and a half before he said he "really had to go" and that his Dad was expecting him home a hour and a half ago. But that was all it took to form a great friendship.

Sadly enough for Dave, a friendship wasn't the only thing he wanted from John. In high school, he had hard core feels for his best bro, resulting in Dave confessing Sophomore year and John agreeing to date him as an "experiment".

And Dave remembers that quick, experimental relationship even though he's now twenty three. He remembers their first kiss, laying on John's bed with National Treasure playing on the television. He remembers holding hands with John when they walked the short distance of Dave's room to the kitchen. A month and three days, Dave had John. A month and three days they were together before John said he wasn't feeling it, he didn't think he liked Dave like that and he hoped Dave would understand.

What else could Dave do but say he understood completely?

Years passed and Dave tried with all his might to get over John. But it was so hard. The way John would throw his arm around Dave's shoulder and laugh. The way he said, "Love you, man" when Dave did something funny. Those feelings were still there, laying dormant underneath. Even when John started dating Dave's sister.

"So," Rose started now, tucking a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear and giving a slight smile. "You both are probably wondering why John and I brought you out to eat today."

If Dave could still talk, he'd make some smart ass comment about how obviously Rose couldn't go a day without seeing her darling brother. But he couldn't speak anymore, and he left his phone in the car (idiot boy). And signing sarcasm just wasn't as funny. So his response was an folding his hands neatly together on the table and raising an eyebrow so that it ached up over the rims of his sunglasses.

Next to him, Jade gasped, hand flying to her mouth. "No! Oh, congratu--"

"Shh, Jade," John said to his sister, beaming almost proudly. "We want to be the ones to announce it." He looked at Rose, as if waiting for a signal.

On cue, Rose nodded, smile growing. John continued. "We wanted the two of you to be the first to know, considering you're our siblings and our best friends."

"John and I are getting married next fall," Rose finished, matter-of-factly, a pink blush dusting her pale cheeks.

Jade erupted in squeals. Dave stared in disbelief. Not for the first time, or last, for that matter, Dave was thankful for his shades. Behind them, red eyes showed hurt and sadness and a realization that no matter how much Dave fantasized about him and John finally getting back together, it wasn't going to happen.

Ever.

Dave's hands made the signs for "Congratulations. I'm happy for you." He wasn't happy in the slightest. "I need fresh air," he signed again, and got up from the table, heading outside.

---

"My name is Nepeta and I'll be your server this evening. Can I get you guys some drinks to start with?"

Karkat's group all placed drink orders as they settled into their seats, shrugging off coats and jackets. As usual, Terezi sat between him and Gamzee on one side, Aradia and Sollux on the other. The two couples leaned into each other and as they did so, Karkat couldn't help a small pang of jealousy. He hadn't dated anyone since Eridan Ampora, and that relationship had been far from healthy. Arguments that lead to throwing things, which merged into makeup sex that was meaningless since ten minutes or so afterwards, Eridan would bring up whatever started the fight in the first place and they were back to square one.

Needless to say, Karkat yearned for a relationship like Gamzee and Terezi's, or Sollux and Aradia's. The two sets had been together since high school and had never made any inclinations to wanting anything different.

He turned his attention away from the pair of lovebirds, focusing more on people watching. His gaze lingered on a table of four, two blondes, two with black hair. He figured they were, also, a pair of couples and he wondered if they were as happy as Sollux and Aradia, or Terezi and Gamzee. One blonde, the boy, kept the majority of Karkat's attention. He was wearing sunglasses (inside? Karkat thought, raising an eyebrow. Was that honestly necessary?), and using sign language to talk to his companions. It was enough the peak Karkat's curiosity. Was he deaf? He continued to watch the blonde, up until the point that he rose from his seat and walked right on out of the restaurant.

On the blonde's feet, Karkat noted, were the rattiest pair of red converse he'd ever laid eyes on.

Chapter Text

Monday is therapy day and Karkat's appointment is at 1:30. To make sure he remembers, several post it notes are stuck up on the walls, doors, cabinets, anything that he will notice when he wakes up.

He brushes his teeth while taking a shower, multitasking so he knows for sure that he won't be late. Karkat Vantas can stand many things (ha, right. Karkat Vantas can stand hardly anything), but tardiness is not one of them! Not even close to one of them.

The hot water of the shower feels like heaven against his back and the bristles of the toothbrush cut into his gums just the right amount. He spits, watches the toothpaste-and-saliva mixture run down the drain, and shuts the water off with reluctance.

Tying a towel around his waist, he steps out of the tub, leaving wet footprints in his wake. His body is the exact opposite of dried off, his hair still dripping. He wipes steam from the bathroom mirror to get a good look at himself.

Chocolate eyes stare back, the bags underneath them making them pop more than he liked. His hair color matches his eyes, though right now it is darkened by the water. Karkat brings up a hand to touch the side of his head. So much damage in such a small place.

----

i dont want to go to therapy

"Dave," Rose says, giving her brother her infamous "you're-going-to-listen-and-you're-going-to-listen-now" look. "You are going to therapy. It's time to start speaking again. I know you can do it."

what if i dont want to talk maybe im happy the way i am did you think of that

His sister sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Dave can be so stubborn at times, and she just wishes that he'd listen to her. She only wants the best for him. " Please, Dave. Try it out."

In response, Dave crosses him arms.

"For one month," she negotiates, holding up her index finger. "Just one. You can quit if you promise to participate for a thirty day time period."

Dave sighs, hating how his sister can always get her way.

----

It is 1:07 exactly when Karkat arrives at Aranea Serket's office. He signs in and sits in a chair in the waiting room, taking his cellphone from his pocket and playing a demo of Jewel Quest that the phone came with. Every so often, he glances at the clock on the wall.

Fifteen minutes before his appointment, the bell positioned above the door chimes, and in walks the two blondes Karkat had been watching at the restaurant Saturday night. That same curiosity sparks and Karkat ends up staring at his phone and listening to the woman talk to the receptionist.

"Hello, my name is Rose Lalonde. This is my brother, David." Rose gestures to the boy beside her. David. "We have an appointment with Miss Aranea Serket today."

"You're rather early," the receptionist (a neat, tidy woman by the name of Kanaya) answers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she glances at her computer. "It says here your appointment is at two?"

Karkat cannot help his staring now. His head is tilted slightly to the right as he watches, as he often does when watching one of his movies or the five o'clock news.

"Yes, well, we thought if we came early, Miss Serket could see him sooner?"

Kanaya shakes her head. "I'm afraid not. Miss Serket is with a patient right now, and has another one directly after. Your appointment is set for two. But..." She suffles around on her desk, and Karkat can hear a drawer bang open. "You can fill out this while you wait. And there's a coffee place not too far from here, when you have that done." Kanaya hands Rose a clipboard.

"Alright. Thank you very much."

Rose and David take seats across from Karkat, and Rose hands the clipboard and a pen to her brother, who bounces his leg on the ground as he fills out the paperwork. Karkat turns back to the cellphone screen in front of him, this time starting up his Tetris demo.

He is soon interrupted by a "Hello". Karkat glances up, looking at Rose. She is giving him a small smile. "Uh. Hi," Karkat replies.

She is straight to the point. "Is Aranea Serket a good therapist?"

Clearing his throat and shifting positions, Karkat pushes his phone into his pocket before answering. "I've only been here for a short while, but Aranea's pretty good, yeah..."

"Is she only a speech therapist, or does she specialize in other fields?"

"I think she takes on most disabilities. I have a friend who is, um," he pauses, biting his lip as he thinks of the word. "Blind. And after her accident, she came to Aranea. Aranea helped her to learn to live with it..." Karkat trails off, train of thought nearly evaporating as he struggles to pull it back. "She's the one who recommended Aranea to me."

Rose nods. "That's a relief. Dave has never had a therapist before." She glances at her brother, who is now tapping the pen against the clipboard in a rhythm as he stares at it. "I hope she'll be able to help him."

"I'm Rose, by the way," she continues, looking back at Karkat. "Can I ask your name?"

"K..." To his horror, he stops short, mouth still open as his own name fails to leave his lips. He's forgotten his own name. How can that even happen? Karkat racks his brain, searches every nook and cranny. Rose is giving him an odd look now.

"Karkat," a soft, kind voice calls. "It's good to see you again." Karkat looks to the direction of the voice and sees Aranea standing in the doorway of her office. His savior. Aranea smiles at him. "Come in, then, and we'll get started."

Standing, Karkat gives a nod to Rose. "Nice meeting you," he says. He can feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he walks into Aranea's office, door shutting softly behind him.

---

"I wonder what's wrong with that boy," Rose says, crossing her legs at her ankles. Beside her, Dave gives a loud sigh, putting the clipboard down.

who knows who cares mind your own business

oh by the way im done w/ this can we go get some shitty coffee now or

He shows his phone to Rose, who stands and takes the clipboard to the receptionist. "Come on," she says as she walks back to him, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder.

As they walk to the coffee shop, Rose starts up conversation again. "I'm allowed to be curious, you know. Don't you want to know why he kept stumbling over his words?"

nope

"I think you're lying.

rose do you know what its like to have a disability

no you dont

im not curious about him because i wouldnt want him to be curious about me

drop it alright

Rose doesn't say another word until they enter the coffee joint, and even then it's only to ask her brother what he wants so he can order.

----

At the end of Karkat's thirty minutes, they both stand and shake hands. "I'll see you Wednesday?" Aranea asks as she opens the door for Karkat, who nods his head.

"Yeah, see you then. Thanks again, Aranea."

The brother and sister (he's already forgotten their names) are in the waiting room, and their gazes are both turned in his direction. Karkat doesn't say anything to either of them, tries not to glance their way, still embarrassed about him fumble earlier.

He has just almost reached the front door when he feels a hand on his shoulder. When he turns, he sees the brother, two things in his hands. One are Karkat's car keys. The other is the boy's cellphone, a message typed up on its screen.

you left these in the chair when you went in earlier thought you wouldnt want to forget them

"Thanks," Karkat says, blinking in surprise and taking the keys from him. "I appreciate it." The blonde just shrugs, as if to say 'No problem'.

As Karkat turns to leave again, he hears Aranea speak behind him. "You must be David. Why don't you come have a seat and we can talk."

Chapter Text

Dave sits in the provided chair and takes out his phone, already typing. His thumbs move quickly along the keyboard.

so im supposed to tell you about why i dont talk right

"If that's where you'd like to start," Aranea says, folding her hands together and propping her elbows on her desk, a smile playing on her lips. "Or you could just tell me about yourself."

whats there to know

Aranea's small smile grew as she read the words. "Plenty. Should I tell you about me? To give an example?"

There is no answering text message, but Dave takes his shades off and meets Aranea's gaze. The red eyes behind those sunglasses shock Aranea, but only for a moment. Beneath his eyes are small, barely noticeable wrinkles. Blonde eyebrows arch and Aranea takes that as cue to continue.

"As you already know, my name is Aranea Serket, and I am a therapist. I help many people recover and I also help them learn how to live with certain disabilities. I've helped the blind, the paralyzed, those with damaged brains." The therapist takes a breath, gathers some thoughts. "When I was little, I was obsessed with pirates. I wanted to be one. I even had a pirate outfit in mind. Searching for buried treasure was mine and my little sister's favorite game. My favorite color is blue. Hmm... What else."

She taps her chin, looking up at the ceiling. Then she snaps her fingers. "Oh! And I collect spider rings. The ones you get around Halloween time." A drawer opens and Aranea grabs a handful of small, colorful rings, placing them on her desk. There's red spiders, black ones, blue ones, the occasional lime green. Aranea notices the corner of Dave's mouth quirk up before he disappears behind his cellphone.

yo im dave. fav color = red. when i was little i wanted to be a world famous rapper. i have a sister shes older than i am. i use to preserve dead things in formaldehyde. i like taking pictures

Aranea reads on his words and smiles again. "Dead things? Do you mind elaborating?"

those arent the reason i dont talk you know

"Did i say it was? I just want you to elaborate; why are you interested in them, what kind of things you had."

theyre just cool. i always thought so. and i had simple things like bugs and a scorpion

The therapist takes notes, the small room filled with the sound of scribbles. When finished, she asks, "You also like photography? What do you like taking pictures of?"

people. people are so interesting. ever people watch

Aranea shakes her head.

try it sometime. people do some interesting things . that definitely has nothing to do w/ why i dont speak

A sigh. "Dave. I never once said that it did. We're not talking about your inability to speak right now."

Dave bites his lip, eyes casting down to the floor and hair falling in front of his eyes. He shrugs slightly, takes a deep breath, and then looks at Aranea.

"Why don't you tell me a story? The only rule is it has to pertain to you in some way." Aranea says, voice mirroring the kindness showing in her eyes. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Take your time with typing it out. Think of a good one for me. Okay?"

It takes a minute for Dave to think of a good subject to bring up the the woman in front of him. He definitely isn't ready to talk about why he's mute. Not yet. Maybe not ever. He chews at the inside of his cheek. And then he starts typing.

let me tell you about my sister and her engagement to my ex boyfriend

----

"Dave," Aranea calls after him as his hand reaches for the doorknob so he can go rejoin Rose. He turns to look at her, shades back in place, face expressionless.

She's holding out a slip of paper to him. "I usually tell my patients to call me anytime they need to talk." Dave takes the paper and Aranea continues. "That's my cellphone number. If you need me, for support, for anything, send me a text message."

Dave nods, turning his back on his new therapist once more and opening the door. As soon as Rose sees him, she stands. Dave notes that she is smiling. Together, the siblings exit the building and walk to Rose's car.

They slide into the car, and Rose finally speaks. "So," she says, turning the key. The car starts up, radio playing a song about something along the lines of 'I knew you were trouble when you walked in'. Rose reaches forward and turns it down. "How was it?"

i guess going back wont be so bad

now take me to johns woman weve got a video game date

----

John's house is small. It only has one bedroom and no basement. Unlike the house Dave shares with Rose, which has two bathrooms and three bedrooms. But Dave prefers to be at John's house. It's cozy, he thinks. He likes how there's no girly touches (besides Rose toothbrush in the bathroom, which makes Dave's nose wrinkle every time he takes a piss there).

They take turns picking out what to do. Dave likes video games. John would rather watch a movie. Today is a video game day, so they sit on John's floor, controllers in hand.

Today, though, is different. John is different. He seems far off, in another realm.

Distracted.

Dave's character kills John's five times before Dave finally pauses the game and turns to his best friend. He pulls down his shades, just enough so that John can see his eyes, and gives him a "oh-my-god-are-you-fucking-kidding-me" sort of look.

"Sorry. I'll play better," John responds. "Now unpause it! I'm going to kick your ass this round!"

But he doesn't. In fact, he doesn't even come near kicking Dave's ass for the next two rounds.

They're halfway through another when John says, "Rose wants me to move in with you two."

Dave doesn't even pause the game this time, just stares at John in surprise, mouth hanging open. John doesn't look at him, instead he keeps playing, as though he doesn't notice Dave has stopped.

"It a good idea, yeah?" John is grinning. His signature grin that makes Dave's chest ache every time. The ache is worse this time, though. Now, he will be reminded of Rose and John's relationship everyday. That they are engaged to be married. Every time he wakes up to start a new day, he will see them together. He will bare witness to them kissing.

He will hear they're late at night sounds that emit from the bedroom across the hall from Dave's.

Dave Strider feels sick.

"I'll get to see you and Rose everyday! My two favorite people!"

when

The hand holding the phone out to John is shaking slightly.

John doesn't notice. His eyes are alight, happy, ecstatic. His feelings are the exact opposite of Dave's. "Oh, in a few weeks, maybe."

A few weeks.

A few short fucking weeks.

If it were anybody else, Dave would've been happy for them. Hell, if it wasn't Dave's sister that John was marrying, if it were someone else, anyone else, Dave wouldn't have taken it this hard.

But it was Rose. It was. John and Rose, soon to be living under the same roof. To be joined in holy matrimony.

And... oh god... What if they reproduce?

i should probably be gettin home

gonna make rose order me some pizza

John's smile falters. Good, Dave thinks. "Do you want a ride?"

Hell no. Fuck no. Dave shakes his head, waving and mouthing 'bye'.

He walks home, against the wind, mind racing and hating the world.

Hating himself.

He can't speak, he can't even get over a high school crush.

You're pathetic, Dave Strider, he thinks to himself. Completely pathetic.

Chapter Text

Aradia and Sollux had volunteered to go with Karkat to the grocery store, something he much appreciated. Trips to the grocery store were far from his favorite. He'd get all discombobulated in the Asian Food or forget where the eggs were, or, more times than not, make a mental list of items and forget what he needed and mix it up with what he wanted. Karkat trailed behind his shopping companions, pushing the cart, while they disregarded his -- carefully made -- list (one of the few times he bothered to write one, it took him thirty minutes to do it. The words "instant mashed potatoes" had taken forever to come to him), throwing things like Honey Buns and frozen chicken strips into the basket.

"Karkat," Aradia says, stopping in front of the canned soup. "What kind of soup do you like?" Her index finger taps her chin as she stares at the variations of soups, the expression on her face thoughtful.

"He likes chicken noodle, the generic bastard." As Sollux answers Aradia's question, he takes it upon himself to scoop up a can of said chicken noodle and drop it into the cart. It hits the plastic bottom with a clack . Karkat stares at it blankly, wondering if he should scold Sollux for dropping it in so carelessly. The old, undamaged Karkat would have. This Karkat, maybe not. How embarrassing would it be to be in full rant and forget what you were saying, or to forget a vital word to your master piece of word vomit?

Oh, how Karkat misses word vomiting.

Aradia spins on her heel to look at Sollux, stomping her foot and puffing her cheeks with air. "Sollux!" She blows out the air, mouth turning down. "I asked Karkat, not you. It was a question for Karkat, so he was supposed to answer!"

She wants to know if I remember the word, Karkat thinks, looking at the couple. And Sollux, he wanted to save Karkat from humility , just in case it did so happen that he forgot. It makes Karkat almost smile.

His friends care about him, that much is evident. But he can't deny that how much they flock and worry about him can, at times, at most times, be annoying. Back before the incident, it had always been Karkat who took care of and watched out for them. He would call and make sure Sollux and Aradia had remembered to eat dinner. He would be the one who regularly checked up on Gamzee, made sure he hadn't relapsed on his old drug of choice. When Terezi lost her sight in a car crash years back, she had immediately went to Karkat.

Karkat had been their shoulder to lean on. Now, he just felt... useless.

The worst was the months he spent in recovery. Karkat hadn't been able to leave the hospital except for the occasional walk he was allowed in the afternoon. And when he had visitors... oh, the looks on their faces, seeing how sorry they were for him. It was awful. "Can I get you something to drink, Kark?" "Do you need help sitting up, KK?"

He'd grown use to the help, of course. He had to. But sometimes, he missed when everyone relied on him, rather than him relying on everyone.

"Hey, KK, by the way," Sollux said as they put the bagged groceries in the trunk of Aradia's car. "How was speech therapy today?"

"Fine." He wonders if the others are aware this is only the fifth comment he's made since they left his apartment.

---

They're stopped at a red light when Karkat sees him. Sollux and Aradia are arguing playfully over what station the radio should be on. Aradia kept hitting the first preset, Sollux the fifth. Karkat's head is leaned against the window, watching the world pass by. He is only vaguely listening to his friends.

Karkat notices the blonde boy as he passes under a street light. He's wearing the exact same thing he was wearing earlier, in the waiting room. Same shirt, pants. Same ratty ass converse. His pale hair glints in the bit of light, his sunglasses pushed up on his top of his head.

Pull over , is what Karkat wants to say. Instead, what comes out is, "Stop the car."

Sollux looks at him as if he's crazy. "Karkat, we're at a red light. We are stopped."

"No. I mean. That kid." He jams his finger at the window, trying to get the others to notice blondie, too. "I know him." What Karkat means is, 'I know him; let's give him a ride', but he can't get the second part out.

The light turns green and Aradia takes her foot off the break. They move forward. In the opposite way the blonde is walking. "Turn around," Sollux tells his girlfriend, thankfully understanding Karkat's meaning. "And pull over next to that dude who's walking."

"Well..." Aradia makes a quick U-turn, smirking as she speaks. "Someone needs a bus pass."

"Maybe he's just really poor. Look at his shoes."

The trio pull into a parking lot near where the blonde kid is walking and Karkat opens his door, pushing himself out of the car. He wishes he could remember the guy's name. It started with a D, he knew that. He also knew it was a fairly easy name, one you heard a lot.

Of course, the easiest names took Karkat forever to memorize.

Taking a few steps forward, Karkat cups his hands over his mouth and yells at the kid's retreating back.

"Hey! Hey, blondie!" That doesn't even get him to glance over his shoulder. Karkat could've been yelling at anyone. He takes starts up into a sprint, realizing all the effort he's giving for someone he doesn't know. But this kid is like him. Why else had he been at Aranea's? They both have problems, and for that, Karkat is sympathic. Understanding. Maybe he needs someone like him to talk to. Maybe that would help them both.

The blonde glances behind his shoulder last minute, stopping in his stride and turning towards Karkat. His eyes question Karkat, who has since stopped running and is catching his breath, staring at him.

"Do you want a ride?" Karkat asks, jerking his thumb behind him, to the idle car that holds a curious Sollux and Aradia.

He nods.

---

"So where do you live?" Aradia puts the car in drive, glancing around to make sure it's okay for her to go. When the blonde doesn't answer, the other three all look at him. He has his phone in his hand and he's biting his lip. Karkat guessed that he communicates through his phone, that he doesn't talk, but he's taking awhile to start writing and Karkat thinks that maybe, just maybe, he doesn't want to go home.

"Do you want to come stay at my place?" Karkat whispers to him, leaning towards him. "Just for the night," he reassures, seeing the other's eyes flash with an unidentifiable emotion. And again, his backseat-mate nods. Karkat smiles lightly, and to Aradia says, "Just go to my house."

----

Dave sits on Karkat's couch, lounging back and spreading his knees apart. Already he has the remote in his hand, flipping through channels. Karkat sets a glass of water on the coffee table and sits next to him. It's obvious that Karkat feels awkward, continuously running a hand through his hair, looking around the room.

The TV settles on MTV, much to Karkat's dismay and over all disgust. He hates this channel. His nose wrinkles, but to Dave he says nothing, not wanting to start an argument with a kid he barely knows. When Karkat finally manages to drag his eyes from the TV screen and back to Dave, he notices the cellphone held out to him.

thanks for this man

going home was something i did not want

my hero

Karkat snorts, reading over the three lines a few times. "It's not a problem," he says, shrugging. "Sometimes, people just need to... go somewhere."

youre prolly wondering why i dont talk

"Yes." There's no need for Karkat to lie and says he's not. Honestly, he is intrigued by the boy next to him. "I know what it's like to have dif...a hard time...talking, though, so I don't expect you to tell me your story."

MTV provides excellent background noise. Dave turns to Karkat, making eye contact and holding it. It's one of the ways he's learned how to communicate. Making eye contact used to be hard for Dave-- he was insecure about his albinism and his eyes had been a dead giveaway. There had been so many mixed reactions to his unususal eye color, but Karkat barely batted an eye.

He was grateful for that. And he was grateful that Karkat didn't press the speaking issue. He was grateful for a place to stay.

Dave was grateful for having someone to relate to.

you forget words

A nod. "Or sometimes they just don't form." A pause.

"Talking is hard," Karkat adds. The silence is one of mutual understanding. They hold eye contact.

you dont have to tell me your story either

but im interested and if you want someone to talk to

i wont interrupt

He smiles, showing that he made a joke; Dave can't interrupt, he can't speak. Karkat smiles, too. Then gives a small laugh.

And then the laugh grows and Karkat holds the back of his hand over his mouth while Dave shakes with silent laughter.

It's when a few non-silent laughs slip from Dave's lips when Karkat stops, gathers himself, and decides that he can tell Dave about his seizure.

And so he does.

And Dave doesn't interrupt, doesn't move an inch until Karkat is done.

He places a hand on Karkat's shoulder and squeezes.

Chapter Text

Run where you'll be safe, through the garden gate,

to the shelter of magnolias.

In his sleeping state, Dave thinks that he is at home, in his bed, waiting for Rose to come shake him awake, saying how it was late and Dave didn't need to sleep until two pm; he's a grown man. When his mind is more awake, and he realizes he's snoozing on a couch and not a twin sized matress, he thinks he's at John's. That possibility, too, would make since. Soon, the screen door would bang shut, and in John Egbert would stride, armed with a bag of blueberry muffins from the bakery down the street.

A screen door does not slam. But there is a distinct smell of coffee, unfamiliar yet welcoming. So, sleeping Dave says, what the hey, and opens those ruby eyes of his, allowing the day before to rush back to him in waves. The therapy, the news of John soon joining him and Rose as housemates, walking home. Never making it home.

Karkat, his saving grace of the evening. Someone he hardly knows who picked him up, brought him home, and talked to him like he was a person and not someone who needed to be pitied. Karkat understood the difficulties of speaking. Without even knowing Dave, he had told him about his apashia, how the words would slip from his mind within seconds. That poor, damaged little kitten.

And Karkat had respected Dave's choice in not wanting to share his side, didn't press the matter, just got Dave a blanket and a pillow and told him that, if he needed anything, Karkat was just a room away.

Dave sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching, left hand falling atop his head and scratching there as he swings his legs to the side and his feet hit the wooden floor. He follows the smell of coffee to the kitchen, where his gaze falls on Karkat, at the table, sipping from a mug.

When Karkat notices Dave standing there, he doesn't smile, and for a scary second, Dave worries that Karkat had forgotten about him. But there is recognition in those chocolate brown eyes. His host stands, going to the coffee pot and grabbing another mug. "Do you like coffee?" Dave nods, Karkat pours. "Milk or sugar?"

For that, Dave has a comment about how milk and sugar in coffee is for girls and sissy men, so he fishes in his pockets for his phone. It's not there, so Dave just sighs and shakes his head. Karkat holds the mug by the top, arm outstretched as he waits for Dave to take it.

"I forgot your name again," Karkat confesses, buttering a piece of toast and handing that to Dave as well. "Sorry. Sometimes it takes awhile for things to stick." Dave can't respond, so he takes a bite of his toast and a quick drink of coffee.

On the counter near him, there lay a pad of green post-it notes and a black ink pen. Dave's eyes settle on it. He sets his coffee down and replaces it with the pen, scrawling "Dave" in messy handwriting, tearing it from the pad, and smacking it on his chest. When Karkat laughs, he feels accomplished.

Karkat has a nice laugh.

The pair spend a good thirty minutes labeling objects with post-its. Under each correct name is a Dave version of it. They spent valuable minutes arguing over refrigerator vs icebox (Dave slapped a label that said "ice box" on the refrigerator. "No," Karkat said, taking it off. "It's a refrigerator and you will refer to it as such." Dave puts it back on. Karkat, again, takes it off, this time ripping it into pieces. Dave rewrites the label.) so Karkat threw up his arms in defeat and let Dave translate each proper name into, what Karkat now calls, Striderian.

To be honest, Karkat prefers "blade pitcher" to "blender" anyway.

They move their labeling party into the living room, and Dave goes straight to his phone. He wants to tell Karkat something that he and John did one time, because he thinks Karkat will get a laugh out of it. He unlocks it and stares at the screen with a slightly ajar mouth.

Fifty seven new text messages.

He should've seen it coming.

With a sigh, Dave read through each one, all of them saying the same basic thing. "Dave, where are you?" "Dave, answer this text immediately." "Dave, Rose and I are really worried about you."

Dave sends his sister a simple, "Yo."

It takes her seconds to respond, demanding him to tell her where he is so she can pick him up and bring him home. Then, half a second later, he received another message from her, informing him that they "need to talk".

hey yo karkat

my sister and her fiance have been looking for me all morning

sooo yeah i gotta go man sorry

Karkat blinks at the screen several times, corners of his mouth turning down. "Oh, alright." He runs a hand through his hair, mussing it so that it sticks up. He holds his right hand out to Dave. "Nice meeting you."

Dave doesn't shake Karkat's hand. He types something on his phone, shows Karkat, and instantly wishes he had put his shades on so that he could hide, just a little bit. Asking something like this is always embarrassing. Even if he isn't technically asking Karkat on a date.

i really appreciate this

you giving me a place to crash

let me make it up to you. take you out for chinese

do you even like chinese idk

you pick the place ill pay

And Karkat, who had to be forced to go out with his friends, who had spent so much time hiding in his apartment that it was second nature to him, nods and says, "I'd like that."

---

The air is so tense that it's stressing Dave out. Rose has set him at the kitchen table, her and John sitting across front. Their postures are stiff, so Dave straightens up a bit. He pops his knuckles. Attempts to look relaxed and casual.

Rose, as expected, speaks first. "Do you want to tell me what happened to you last night?" Dave starts his usual routine, getting out his phone, opening a new message, but Rose starts up again. "I dropped you off at John's after your therapy, David. That was early noon. I call John at seven thirty, asking if you needed a ride home. And you know what he tells me?"

Dave has a pretty good idea, actually, but, just to get under his sister's skin, he widens his eyes and shakes his head. No idea, sister dear. I don't have a clue.

"He tells me you left his house hours ago, walking . Even though he offered to give you a ride." Rose is livid, Dave can tell. Hell, a blind man could tell. And John doesn't seem too happy with him, either. "We spend a good chunk of our time trying to get a hold of you, Dave, worried sick. This morning, we find you. In an apartment building, staying with someone you don't even know."

i know him his name is karkat hes got some weird obsession with romance movies and has boxers with crabs on them

he also makes the worlds best coffee that mans got some grade a ++ coffee grounds let me tell you

His sister ignores his comments, and Dave doesn't really blame her. If he was in her position, he would've ignored his mute brother, too.

"What's gotten into you, Dave?" Rose asks, voice soft. Her hand is palm up on the table, holding it out to Dave as if she expects him to take it. Her eyes are sincere and kind and they make Dave's heart pang, because he knows he's upset her. "Is it about what happened to...?"

Dave cannot allow Rose to finish. He jumps up from the table, walks quickly to his room. Shuts the door. Locks it.

Collapses on his bed, already fighting with the images that flow into his mind.

---

One year previous

"Yo, little man," his brother calls to him from his spot on the couch, video game controller in his hand and a bag of Doritos at his side. He doesn't look up from the TV screen, not even when Dave takes a seat next to him. Dave's eyes shift from his bro to the TV, slowly reaching his hand into the bag of chips and drawing one out, just as slowly.

A sharp smack to the back of his hand makes Dave drop the Dorito onto the couch cushion before it even reaches his mouth. "Bro, come on," Dave pleads. "It's one chip. The rest are yours."

"You want chips? Buy your own," Bro replies, already refocused on his game. Dave slumps down, watches for a little while.

"Your kid brother comes to visit you and you won't put down your game." Dave is smirking, not actually bothered by it at all. This was how his brother was, how he'd always had been. It part of the reason why he was Dave's hero.

His brother hits pause and takes a moment to plug in a second controller, tossing it to Dave. "It's two player."

Dave beams.

Besides John, his bro had always been his best friend, his go-to guy when anything was wrong. Bro had an odd way of dealing with things, but it was always efficient. It had always been enough to cheer Dave up.

He'd wanted to be like his brother for so long, and in his younger years, he mirrored a lot of Bro's habits, walking the way he walked, talking the way he talked. Dave, too, wanted to be able to go through life and act like he didn't have a care in the world. As though nothing bothered him.

"I gotta piss," Dave announced a good twenty two minutes later, pausing the game and heading to the bathroom.

"Better hurry before I unpause the game for you and cross the finish line," he hears Bro call from the other side of the door. Dave doesn't heed this warning, takes his sweet time. Fixing his hair, popping a pimple the bridge of his nose. He even takes time to brush his teeth and use the last of Bro's mouthwash.

When he opens the door, ready to step out and attempt to come in first place on the game, he notices that his brother is not alone. There are two other men in the room, talking in hushed voices to his brother. Dave can't hear them. He takes a step backwards, shutting the door to a crack, watching silently.

His brother stands calm and collected, a hand placed upon his hip. Show 'em who's boss, Dave had thought, admiration for his brother filling him as it did so often. It was then he noticed the men had a gun.

And that gun pressed against his brother abdomen.

Panic rose, starting in his gut and working its way up to his chest. Dave's heart pounded in his ears, his hands became clammy. He held his breath.

He could do nothing but watch as the trigger was pulled.

The moment the sound of a gunshot rang out, Dave shut the door completely and took several steps back, his back hitting the wall. His knees gave out and he crumbled to the floor. A part of him could not believe what he had just seen. A part of him wanted to rush out and go to his brother. A reasonable part of him stayed put, against the wall, cellphone in hand and dialing 911.

Before he could even hit the call button, he heard two more gunshots. He caught his lip between his teeth, biting down so he would make no noise. Not a sound, he told himself. You cannot make a sound.

After what seemed like ages, he heard the front door slam shut. After a few more ages, Dave made himself to hit call and bring his phone to his ear.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Dave couldn't bring himself to speak.

He still can't bring himself to speak.

---

Present time

Dave lays on his bed, shaking, tears streaming down his face. That night had haunted him for weeks afterwards, until he had finally been able to block it out all together. Though he had never managed to gain his voice back, he had taught himself sign language with the help of the internet, had gotten to be such a fast texter that if there was an award for it, he'd surely win the blue ribbon.

As long as no one talked about it, as long as no one mentioned it, Dave had been able to pretend, for the most part, that it had never happened. That he had never had an older brother, a hero and a role model.

Today, Rose had screwed it all up. Now, all he wanted to do was relive those moments.

For the first time, Dave wanted to talk about it. He wanted someone to listen to him.

He wanted to type a fifteen page message on his phone and show it to someone.

Dave Strider pushes himself off the bed and forces himself to pull his shoes on, to wipe the tears from his pale, freckled face, and take a deep calming breath. Dave Strider makes himself fix his hair, open his door, and walk out. He walks right past John and Rose, who wear identical looks of concern for his well-being. Though they have been there for him since the beginning, he does not want to open up for them. They know the basics. That's all they need to know.

No, Dave knows exactly who he will spill his heart to. Someone who is equally damaged, though physically, not mentally like he is. Someone he barely knows, but was there for him when he needed it. He hopes that Karkat will be there for him now.

A quick message to the phone number Karkat gave him before he left.

can you meet me somewhere

please

Chapter Text

Karkat sets Dave's phone down in the middle of the table, between them. His eyes find Dave's face, and even though mirror shades hide crimson eyes, Karkat has a feeling Dave is looking at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

But Karkat doesn't speak. He opts for reaching his arm across the table and grasping Dave's hand in his own. He squeezes,marvels at the sight of his own sun-kissed skin against Dave's ivory. In the back corner of some hole in the wall cafe, the two disabled males share a brief, silent moment.

Dave squeezes back and lets out a breath he'd been holding. Starts to smile, then stops, awkwardly looking to the left. When Karkat's laugh reaches his ears, the smile he held in breaks across his face and he looks back to Karkat, guard down, wall crumbled, and in that one short second, it is only him and Karkat in the room. Him and Karkat in the city. In the state. In the world.

The two pummel back to reality when the waitress brings the bill, which Dave and Karkat both reach out for. "Let me," Karkat says. His hand doesn't waver from the bill, and he stares Dave down until he gives in. Dave, Karkat thinks, has already gave more than enough to him today.

A piece of yourself, especially one that you don't talk about often, is worth much more than any amount of money.

"Stay over at my place again." Karkat says as they stand, pushing their chairs in. Dave grabs his phone, checks for messages. "That is, if you want."

There is only one text on Dave's phone, and he's not surprised that it's from Rose. He's impressed that it's only a single message. Even more impressed that it's just two words.

Be careful.

He hits exit on the message and types a new one, one for Karkat's eyes.

i want

---

The hours spent in each other's company is passed by telling stories of simpler times, times before accidents and times before deaths. Times when they could both speak freely, and both spoke a lot. Karkat tells Dave about his friends and their perfect relationships. Dave tells Karkat about John and Rose.

they met through me of course , he types.

john came over to see me and i wasnt home but rose was

they got to talking and about what idek because they have zero in common you know

when i came home they were in the living room watching a movie and rose was leaning her head on johns shoulder

"Stereotypical," Karkat says, taking a large gulp of the two liter of Mountain Dew bought on the way back to his apartment. Usually, Karkat detested the sugary taste of this particular soft drink, but now, warm and sticky as it slid down his throat, it wasn't so bad. He welcomed the syrupy-sweet beverage. In an odd way, it fit the mood. "Aradia and Sollux were like that, too. She dropped her books in the hallway, he picked them up for her like a...a...?"

servant? skivvy? peon?

Karkat shakes his head, dark hair falling in his face. "It's a polite term."

Dave's lips form, "Oh," and he types another word on his phone. gentleman

"That's it," Karkat says, snapping his fingers and picking up a notebook, scribbling down the word. They decided to make a list for each time Karkat forgot a word. Gentleman was number thirteen. "And Gamzee and Terezi, they were both good friends with Vriska Serket and eventually they fell madly in love, blah blah."

what about you man you got anyone to smooch

to cuddle

to do the full on sex with

"The full on sex?" Karkat wrinkles his nose at the wording. Honestly. "No." He doesn't want to get into it. His developed fear of intimacy, of going outside, of taking a chance to fall truly, madly, deeply in love like in the books and the movies.

Like he so much wanted before his seizure.

Dave frowns and takes the soda from Karkat, unscrewing the cap. He brings to bottle to his lips and tips it back, then swishes the liquid through his teeth. He can almost feel the sugar making home on his incisors.

man me either

actually get this

my sisters bf john is my ex and im still so hung up on him

werent even together that long but goddamn am i so head over heels

im doin acrobatics for this guy and neither him or rose even notice

Pushing his sunglasses on top of his head, Dave hands his phone to Karkat to read over, glancing around the room. Karkat's place is nice. A little to clean and organized, but definitely something he could get used to, if he were to continue coming over.

He wouldn't mind coming over again.

And then he looks at Karkat.

The aphasiac is talking, but the words aren't reaching Dave's ears. His eyes rake over the boy in front of him, taking in Karkat's hair (he thinks it would feel like silk running through his fingers), his concerned, deep brown eyes (Dave likes when they squint in concentration when he's trying to remember a word), the dark circles beneath his eyes (Dave can see himself smoothing his thumb over them as he bent forward to capture those lips with his own--).

He shakes himself from his thoughts with a jolt, his phone clattering to the ground as an effect. Karkat's words stop short, mouth open mid-sentence. "What the fuck?" he asks, Dave bending down to scoop up his phone.

must be twitchy today , he lies

lets make food

---

"This," Karkat says, looking at the "pasta" in front of them, "can hardly be called food."

Even though he had just been to the store twenty four hours previous, Karkat had nothing in his cabinets, fridge, or cupboard to actually make anything. This, he supposed, is why Kankri should just always buy his groceries and not leave him to the responsibility. That mixed with the fact that neither him or Dave could be classified as chefs and are more than likely the worst cooks this city has ever inhabited made this one messy dish.

Karkat just hoped they didn't get food poisoning.

There was macaroni noodles, but Karkat had not the slightest idea how to melt down cheese in order to make mac and cheese, so the two had scoured the rest of his house for some sauce of some kind, because Dave was set on noodles and wouldn't take "just butter" as an answer.

They had found pizza sauce.

dude we can totally make this work

No, they could not totally make it work. Actually, as Karkat looked at his once clean kitchen, he wished they had just made a couple of toaster waffles instead. The stove was covered in sauce that had bubbled and popped in its saucepan, the sink home to the noodles that had flew out of the strainer when Dave shook it too hard. Both of their hands were covered in small, red burn marks.

Eating at the table, according to Dave, is too mainstream, so they seat themselves on the couch, Karkat snatching the remote from Dave. "There is no way I'm going to watch MTV again."

disney channel click it man the shows are so hilariously kiddish

The phone waves in front of Karkat face and he sighs, giving in and looking. "What are you, a thirteen year old girl? Hell no." Dave shrugs and takes a bite of his macaroni drenched in pizza sauce.

Karkat does the same.

"This is shit." Dave nods in agreement.

But that doesn't stop them from eating it.

"If you get one drop of sauce on my couch, Mr. Talkative, you're sleeping in the hall."

---

Later, Dave follows Karkat into his bedroom, which, surprisingly, is a lot more untidy than the rest of his house. Covers thrown to one side of the bed, water glasses and bottles littering the bedside table, a small pile of books on the floor. To complete the image, a cat slumbers in the center of the bed.

Hate cats, Dave thinks, watching as Karkat plucks it up and scratches it behind the ears. "This is Thisbe," he introduces. "My faithful ... partner." Dave gets the feeling the look Karkat was looking for wasn't "partner" but rather "companion", but he doesn't get his phone out to help him this time. Instead he nods.

"You can hold her if you want."

Dave very much doesn't want, so he doesn't really know why he reaches his arms out and takes Thisbe from Karkat.

The cat reacts instantly, twisting in Dave's arms and scratching him in the process before jumping onto the floor and dashing into the other room. Blood drips from Dave's arm and Karkat hurries into action, telling Dave to "Stay there" as he, too, heads out of the room, only to returns with peroxide, cotton swabs, and a square band-aid.

He takes Dave's non-bleeding arm and leads him to the bed, sitting on the edge. He opens the peroxide and puts a swab on the opening, turning it over quickly. Applying the swab to the cut with one hand, Karkat uses the other (and his mouth) to tear open the band-aid packaging.

Dave watches Karkat, the way his body bends over Dave's arm, hair falling into his eyes. His tongue pokes out a little in concentration and the sight lifts Dave's heart. Since meeting Karkat, since Karkat took him in for the night yesterday, a connection had formed between them. Dave could feel it. In so many ways they were one in the same.

"There," Karkat whispers, placing the band-aid on. "All better. I forgot Thisbe doesn't like strangers." He looks up, catching Dave's eye and noticing that the other was looking at him. His eyebrows furrow. "What?"

Nothing, Dave mouths. Absolutely nothing.

---

They lay side by side in Karkat's bed, surrounded by darkness. It is 1:08 am and Karkat's eyelids are heavy. The promise of sleep is one Karkat looks forward to. Sleep now, therapy tomorrow. In the back of his mind he wonders if he'll see Dave again tomorrow. Even further back in his mind, he realizes he hopes he does. These past two days spent with Dave have been the most fun Karkat has had in a long time.

The room lights up as Dave unlocks his cellphone. Karkat glances over and sees him typing something. How does it feel, he ponders, to only be able to talk to someone through written words?

hey karkat

do you think my bro would be upset with me

since i cant talk anymore

It's a simple question, but it's one that fills Karkat's heart up with so many emotions. Earlier, when Dave told him his story, Karkat was filled to the brim with sympathy for the blonde boy, wanting to wrap him in his arms and protect him from all the evils of the world. "I don't... really know," Karkat answers, choosing his words carefully. "I didn't know your brother. But... if he is as great as you say, I'm sure he would understand."

Dave likes the way Karkat says "is" in favor of "was". As though his brother is still around, still taking care of him and watching out for him. The thought pulls at the cords of Dave's heart, makes his throat close up with the threat of fresh tears.

im going to try to find my voice karkat im going to really try

The phone light is gone and Dave turns onto his side, back facing Karkat. A few moments later, Karkat hears Dave's breathing even out, a sure sign of sleep.

I believe in you," Karkat whispers into the dark, his own eyes falling shut.

Chapter Text

Karkat collapses onto his couch with a long, loud sigh. Therapy had went over today, him and Aranea losing track of time. The first half of his session was the usual speech exercises Aranea made him perform each time they saw each other, to see if there was any improvement in his "condition."

The second half, however, Aranea prompted him to talk about himself, asking questions about what he'd been up to, how his cat was, and had he talked to Kankri lately. Karkat had told her about Dave, about their two nights in each other's presence.

"He's one of your patients," Karkat had said, absentmindedly twisting a tissue up in his hands. "But you obviously know that. I let him stay at my..." In his mind's eye, he sees the letter 'P', hears the sound, 'ace'. He tries it out, whispering, "Pace," and deciding no, that isn't right. "Place. I let him stay at my place when he really needed somewhere to go. He's not as big of a prick as I would have thought, judging by his looks."

Aranea smiled. She hadn't been taking notes today; her pencil remained tucked behind her ear for the majority of the session. "You of all people should know not to judge books by their cover, mister big reader."

"The sad thing is, I do judge books by their cover. If there lacks white people embracing and half naked men as the cover image, I probably wouldn't pick it up."

"A Nicholas Sparks fan," she'd said, straightening in her seat. "But tell me more about Dave."

With a nervous half-laugh, Karkat let it all spill out. "He gets me," he started. "He knows what it's like to be pitied, what it's like to be struggling. Not many people get that. Terezi does, sure, but she's not the ... easiest ... person to talk to about these sort of things. Dave is."

"Not only that," Karkat continues, getting a bit flustered and red in the cheeks. He puffs said cheeks up with air, letting it out with a huff. "He's kind of ... what's that word ... good-looking? He's kind of good-looking." Attractive he thinks. He had been looking for the word attractive.

"You've got a crush on him." It wasn't a question, but a statement. A very, very true statement, Karkat realizes. How could he not have guessed that yes, obviously he had feelings for Dave Strider? It wasn't everyday that someone like Karkat found someone to relate to, someone who didn't get on his nerves (and Karkat Vantas had a lot of nerves to get on).

"He has a thing for his sister's fiance," he said, as if that denied Aranea's crush claim. Saying those few words made his heart heavy, made him want to listen to unrequited love songs and be completely stereotypical as he imagined scenarios in which Dave dipped him back and stole a kiss from eager lips.

Aranea gave him a knowing look. "Karkat. Dave will have to get over him sometime, seeing as he's engaged to Dave's sister. You should take a chance. A relationship would be good for you; you deserve it."

Now, as Karkat lays there, unmoving as the TV plays reruns of Friends and replaying this conversation in his head, he wonders if Aranea is right. Maybe he should pursue Dave. What would it hurt?

A lot of things. It could hurt their budding friendship, something Karkat didn't want to demolish. He had meant what he said to Aranea: Dave understood him. He may be one of the only people who did. And Karkat needed someone to understand him.

One the other hand, maybe that was why he should "take a chance." It was plain as day that the two fit well together. Or at least that's what Karkat thought. He hoped that, perhaps, Dave thought the same thing.

The sound of a key turning in the lock on Karkat's apartment door is heard just before the door opens. Kankri enters the room, holding a brown paper bag in one hand, his keys in the other.

"Karkat," he says, upon seeing his little brother. "Are you going to lay around all day?"

For what seems to big the millionth time today, Karkat sighs. "I just got home, Kankri. I'm tired. You can't honestly expect me to be on my feet all day, can you?"

To this, his brother has no answer, just sits on the couch, next to Karkat's feet. "I brought you cinnamon rolls and coffee. You said you were out."

"Thanks." Karkat sits up, taking the bag from Kankri and going into the kitchen, setting the coffee grounds by the coffee maker, the cinnamon rolls in the fridge. He thinks that he'll make them the next time Dave comes over, then wonders when that will be. Then scolds himself for wondering that. Keep your mind off of Dave for five minutes, his inner voice whispers. You sound obsessed.

He's not obsessed.Not really.

Maybe a bit...

Kankri is now standing in the kitchen entryway, arms crossed over his chest. "Mother and Father want you to visit them sometime soon. They want to see how you're doing."

The younger Vantas tenses. Their mother was nice enough. Sometimes she painted pictures and often she made chocolate chip cookies for her two sons when they came to visit, no matter how old they got. Their father, though, he knew how to put pressure on someone, always managing to make Karkat feel like he's doing something wrong, like he's not trying hard enough.

"When?" he asks, washing a plate in the sink to keep his hands busy and eyes focused anywhere but Kankri.

"Whenever. But I'm thinking within the next week would be appropriate."

"Next Thursday, then." Karkat dries the plate with a dish towel, then sets it in the correct cabinet. "Can you leave now? I have plans." Kankri nods, turning from him.

"I'll stop by tomorrow around noon," he informs, then walks out.

Karkat breathes another sigh, this one of relief.

---

honestly tho arnie

can i call you arnie

i dont know if i can do it. talk again

Aranea gazes at Dave, head resting in one hand as she thinks about what Dave had just told her. She knew from the get-go that the reason behind Dave's refuseal to speak was trauma, but even knowing that it had to be something awful had not prepared her for his story. And now he comes to her, telling her he's ready to try, to schedule him for more appointments. "Dave, if you believe in yourself, of course you can find the will to speak again. It will take time, but it is time I am willing to give, if you are willing to make an effort."

im willing , types Dave, leaning forward slightly to show her his phone. besides theres someone i want to talk to voice to voice

"Oh? Do you want to talk about it?" She already has a guess of who this someone might be, taking her earlier conversation with Karkat into consideration. It's great that the two found each other, she thinks. Aranea had originally planned to eventually have them meet, because, while their problems are not the same, they are very similar. She thought they'd get along.

She loved being right.

karkat vantas you know him

what a great fucking kid lemme tell ya

bitchy cat tho He holds up his hand, showing her the scratch. i think i may have a thing for him but idk ive been hung up on john so long i forgot what that felt like

"Test the waters out. Tread carefully, so you don't hurt yourself or him. You're both very fragile right now. But, Dave, I think it's worth a shot." It occurs to Aranea that she's, in a way, playing match-maker between her two patients. But they need someone to lean on, she reasons. And they won't even consider trying a relationship unless given a small push. Aranea was more than happy to provide that push.

Dave shifts, nibbling on his lip thoughtfully. He crosses his ankles, then uncrosses them, then crosses them once more. He pictures Karkat, sees his curious eyes, his pouty lips, hears his laugh, his annoyed tone. Next, he pictures him and Karkat together.

He likes the idea. A lot more than he thinks he should.

ill think about it

---

Throughout the day, Dave thinks about it. Wonders what it would be like to hold Karkat in his arms was they drifted to sleep late at night. What it would be like if they were watching movies and that stereotypical both-reach-in-popcorn-bowl-and-touch-hands thing happened. He can see himself doing stupid things like that with Karkat.

Actually, he can see himself doing a lot of things with Karkat, just like, at one time, he could see himself doing a lot of stupid things with John.

John... Dave sits at his laptop, headphones in, listening to his media player with slight interest. He opens his pictures, double clicks the "best bro" folder, and scrolls through the pictures of him and John.

There's one with John's arm around him at the pool. John is tanned and smiling wide for the camera-- Dave's face is sunburnt, save for the area around his eyes, thanks to his all-purpose shades. Their wet hair clings to each of their faces, eyes ringed red from clorine. They look awful. It's one of Dave's favorite pictures.

The next picture he looks at his one of him, John, Jade, and Rose. Dave is leaning against a tree, face expressionless, shades in place. Jade has a goofy grin on and his shooting a peace sign. Rose and John stand between their respective siblings, hands clasped between them. Dave eyes their joint hands. Waits for the familiar pang of sadness in his chest.

There is nothing.

Dave sits back in his seat, half relieved, half in disbelief. He wonders what happened. Could just two days spent in a former strangers presence have rid him of a love he'd had for years?

Or maybe meeting Karkat had just given Dave confidence that there was someone out their for him. He'd dated since John, of course, but none of those relationships had really hit home. He'd never thought of his current boyfriend/girlfriend frequently, his thoughts had always been consumed by John, on ways to get him back.

Karkat had hardly left his mind since Dave had handed him his keys that first day.

He is still pondering this when his phone goes off, one new text message received.

---

Karkat Vantas paces the floor, trying to decide if he should send Dave a message or not. He'd been arguing with himself for the past twenty minutes.

Fuck, Vantas, just do it! he mentally yells at himself, picking up him phone. He types the message, cursing at his piece of shit phone and its permanent caps lock. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses down the send button.

---

The screen reads: One New Message: Karkat Vantas. Dave can feel his heart beat a bit harder as he opens it, wondering what it says.

It is one question. One simple question that hardly means anything. Nonetheless, it brings about a smile to Dave's face.

WHAT KIND OF PIZZA DO YOU LIKE?

His phone beeps again and a second message comes in. This one, another question, broadens Dave's smile.

AND WOULD YOU LIKE TO HAVE SOME WITH ME?

Chapter Text

dude i didnt even know you were into musicals

Karkat and Dave sit side by side, an open - almost empty - pizza box on the coffee table, Dave's converse clad feet propped up beside it. On the TV screen, Danny and Sandy wave goodbye to their friends, the song "You're the One that I Want" filling the small living room. Karkat reads Dave's message, makes an amused noise in the back of his throat.

"Musicals are okay, Grease is a classic." He leans forward, taking the last slice from the box, shoving half of it into his mouth in one bite. "Besides," he continues, mouth full, "you can't deny the songs are ... that they get stuck in your head."

Dave can't really deny that claim, his mind still singing the lines "Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee" over and over, enough to make him want to bang his head on the nearest solid object. cutie little karkat. romcoms and musicals define you

An eye roll is all Dave gets in response as the screen fades to black and the credits roll. Karkat stands, stretching and popping his fingers one by one. "Where'd you put your movie?"

They had decided that movies and pizza was a good way to spend the evening, so Dave had brought over one of his own to watch after Karkat's. When Karkat had saw Dave's choice, his eyes had widen and he automatically shook his head.

what Dave had asked, smirking as his phone hovered in front of Karkat. dont like scary movies?

No, Karkat didn't like scary movies. Dave could tell by the way he snatched the movie from his outstretched hand now, the way he bit his lip as he glanced at the cover. Dave watched as Karkat made his way to the DVD player, carefully stepping over a sleeping Thisbe.

Nice ass, Dave thought, eyes lingering. They traveled from Karkat's ass up to his head, his hair a tangled, brown mess. Karkat took out his own movie, setting it in its case and replacing it with Dave's pick. He turned, catching Dave's stare, and returned the look with raised eyebrows and a question expression.

Shaking his head, as if to say "nothing", Dave patted the seat beside him, motioning for Karkat to sit down. Karkat took the invitation, plopping down beside the other.

"Saw", Karkat says, bringing his knees up onto the couch. "I told myself I'd never watch this movie."

dont worry karbaby

if you get scared ill be here to hold you

ill protect you from the big bads

---

It's thirty minutes into the movie, and Karkat has watched the majority of it peaking through parted fingers, stomach getting more and more nauseated the further along the movie gets. He wonders how Dave can just sit there, calm and collected next to him, never jumping, never gagging. Occasionally, he glances at Karkat to make sure he's okay, but honestly, Karkat can't tear his eyes away from the grotesque nature of the movie.

And Dave... well, several times he had tried (and failed) to do that cliche yawn-and-put-arm-around-shoulders thing that you see so often in those shitty movies and kid's shows on Disney channel. He gives those pre-pubescent boys kudos, because working up the nerve to actually do that is insanely nerve wracking, making his heart pound and chickening out last second.

But then Karkat screams (like a little girl) and hides his face in Dave's shoulder and Dave realizes that now , now would be his chance to make some sort of move. He is Dave fucking Strider, and Dave Strider is a fucking badass. He can woo the men like no other (or so he likes to tell himself). Badass is his middle name. He is Dave Badass Strider, and putting an arm around a guy is no big deal.

He can totally do this. He slips his arm around Karkat's shoulders, squeezing, trying to be somewhat comforting.

All that panic he went through previously is so worth it when Karkat leans into him, his own arm sliding around Dave's stomach, clutching his shirt. They shift, making it so Karkat's head is under Dave's chin, both of them now watching the screen with Karkat hiding his face in Dave's chest every once in a while. Dave can't even concentrate on the movie anymore. Karkat is so close to him, their bodies fitting together nicely, the smell of Karkat's shampoo invading Dave's nostrils and making him sigh.

All of Dave's senses are alive with Karkat Vantas so near. All, except for one.

Taste.

A taste of Karkat's lips, no matter how small, would be enough to make Dave's night. Make his week.

Half a second later and Karkat is tilting his head up towards Dave, their eyes meeting. "I, uh...," Karkat mutters, "headache. I have a headache. So I need to take my medicine... So I need.. to get up." He's stumbling over his words and it sounds more like a question than a statement, as if he doesn't know if they're being strung together correctly. Dave nod, releasing his hold on Karkat, albeit reluctant.

Karkat gets up, moving to his kitchen.

Dave follows him.

"You didn't have to come with me," he says. He fills a glass with water from the sink and opens a cabinet, searching for his pain reliever. Dave can't reply; he left his phone in the living room, so he just watches and waits.

Karkat takes three pills, chasing each down with a gulp of his water. When he's done, they don't make a move to go back to watching the movie. They stand there, staring at each other. Karkat is arguing with himself; to move closer or to not move closer? He'd love for Dave's arms to wrap around him, to hold him steady. They had been so close on that couch. He wonders if it had meant anything.

Aranea had said to take chances. Karkat takes a step forward. Then two. Three. Four. Continuous steps until they are right in front of each other. Close enough to touch, close enough for Karkat to draw Dave down into a kiss. Dave leans down, eyes never leaving Karkat's face. And Karkat, he pushes up, hands resting on Dave's shoulders.

A scream from the living room makes them jump away from each other, quickly, Karkat almost losing his footing and falling. That damn movie, he thinks. But Dave is laughing now, and the sound of Dave's laughter makes Karkat want to laugh, too. Their laughs fill the kitchen, drown out the noise from the other room.

Dave grabs Karkat's wrist and pulls him forward, arms folding around his smaller body. Karkat doesn't miss a beat, hands tangling in Dave's hair.

Laughs are still tumbling from their lips up until they meet in a soft, sweet, brain melting kiss.

Chapter Text

Dave pulls away from Karkat and opens his eyes to see the other with his eyes still shut, as if he were replaying the moment in his head. Dave can't stop himself from running a hand through Karkat's hair and, finally, those eyes open and stare into Dave's. Karkat gently massages the back of Dave's neck, finger tips rubbing small circles, and Dave moves a hand to caress Karkat's cheek, thumb stroking the skin under his eye.

"Do it again." Karkat's voice is barely more than a whisper, but it's so full of desperation and want that Dave cannot even think to deny him. He leans down and captures those lips once more.

Their lips move together so easily, so smoothly. Karkat can't remember the last time he's enjoyed a kiss this much. His heart beats loudly in his ears, the blood in his veins rushing. And when Dave's tongue sweeps along Karkat's bottom lip, Karkat melts.

Upon pulling away a second time, Karkat takes Dave's hand and leads him to the living room, where he turns off the TV, then to his bedroom.

"It's late," Karkat says. He crawls into bed and pats the space next to him, eyes locked on Dave expectantly. In Dave slides, next to Karkat like he wanted. Karkat lays his head on Dave's outstretched arm, his pillow for tonight. Their legs tangle and they share a few more short kisses.

Dave's fingers trace the features of Karkat's face and Karkat continues to stare up at him, illuminated only by the moonlight shining through his bedroom window. You're beautiful, Dave wants to whisper, but he can't. The words aren't there. They kiss again before Dave's lips move to Karkat's cheek, his forehead, beneath both eyes. Karkat sighs as fingers trail down his spine, his own hands moving over Dave's clavicals.

You're so gorgeous.

Their hands clasp together and rest on Dave's thigh, legs still wrapped around each other. Karkat's eyes are heavy, sleep both evident and inevitable. Dave watches as Karkat blinks and never quite manages to open those brown orbs again. He mouths the words 'Goodnight' before kissing the tip of Karkat's nose, securing his arms around the other's waist, and going to sleep himself.

---

"I have an appointment with Aranea today," Karkat calls into the otehr room as he turns on the shower full blast, sticking his arm under the jet to test the temperature.

Of course, there is no reply. Dumbass, Karkat scolds himself. He turns the knobs in the shower, adjusting the water. "But I don't have to be there until noon. So I was..." Thinking, wondering, contemplating, pick a word... "Wondering if you want to go to lunch afterwards?" He peaks out the doorway, trying to see Dave. "I'll pay." Dave looks his way and nods and Karkat grins, stepping back into the bathroom and shutting the door softly.

Dave raids Karkat's cabinets while he showers, grabbing a bag of mini chocolate doughnuts and a warm Coke. He throws himself on the couch and pops the tab, taking a huge gulp of the caffeinated beverage, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes as a result. He stuffs two doughnuts into his mouth, chews, and swallows. The food gets stuck in his throat and he takes another large drink of soda to force it down. He pops his fingers, his toes, cracks his neck.

Something rubs against Dave's leg and he looks down. Thisbe looks back at him from her place on the floor and mews. Damn cat. He pulls his attention away and goes back to his snackage, only to be interrupted by Thisbe's rubbing again. Dave groans, putting his bag and can on the coffee table and bending down to scoop up the cat. He's cautious, the last time he held the bitch she scratched him.

Thisbe does not struggle, just lays in Dave's arms. Experimentally, Dave scratches behind her ear, provoking some purring.

He is still petting her when Karkat comes out of the shower, wet hair sticking to his face. "Have you gotten my Thisbe to like you?" Karkat sits next to him, reaching over to pet the cat, who moves from Dave's arms and into Karkat's lap. Traitor. Thisbe sits proudly on her master's lap, looking at Dave with a expression that he can only describe as "higher than thou" (for a cat, anyway). It seemed to say, "My human."

karbaby your cat is giving me the evil eye

makes it seem like were cool all chillin in my lap

but in reality

in reality shes out for my blood

she will suck out my soul as i sleep

Karkat laughs, leaning over to peck Dave's cheek. "You're so melodramatic."

---

Karkat settles in the chair, ankles crossing. Aranea types at her computer before turning her attention to Karkat, customary smile on her face.

"Hello, Karkat," she says. "I'm so glad you're here. This will be a relativity short appointment today, I think." Aranea opens one of her drawers and pulls out a manila folder labeled 'Karkat Vantas'. She opens it and takes out a paper, handing it to her client. "That's the progress you've made since first coming here."

The paper went from "One week: forgets two or three words a sentence." to "Two months: forgets a word ever once in awhile." Karkat's eyes scan it, then he looks to Aranea. "Why are you showing me this?"

Aranea holds out her hand, takes the paper back and slides it into the folder. "As you can see, Karkat, you've made a great amount of progress since becoming my patient. An exceptional amount of progress, if I'm to be honest. It's beyond impressive and I am extremely proud of you. This can't be easy."

Karkat waits, staring at her, unblinking. He doesn't know why, but he feels nervous.

"So, I think," Aranea continues, moving her hair off her shoulder, "that today will be our last meeting, my friend."

"But I... I need you. I'm not... fixed yet. I still..." The words are not coming easily ad he falls short, half panicking. He's not ready to quit. Aranea hasn't healed him completely. He is still broken, so broken, his brain still a scrambled mess.

"Karkat. Broca's Aphasia and Anomia never go away, not completely. I'm sure you learned that from those medical journals you read. And I can't take away permanent damage; I'm not a miracle worker, as much as I'd like tot be." Karkat is crying now, trying to catch his breath. He attempts to speak, but he has no words. His entire vocabulary has vanished. Aranea stands and goes to Karkat, kneeling down in front of him and taking his hand. "Karkat, you will do fine. If anyone can go out into the world dealing with something like this, it's you. I have never had so much faith in someone."

Karkat looks at her with a tear streaked face. "What if I... what if someone talks to me on the street and I... I lose the words again?" He takes a gasping breath. "What if I forget...you? After all the things you've done for me, what if I can't remember?"

The therapist gives his hand a comforting squeeze. "You will do just fine, Karkat. Don't worry about those things. Do you still have my number?" Karkat nods. "Call whenever. I'll always answer." She stands again, pulling Karkat up with her.

"Goodbye, Karkat. You were fantastic." Karkat hugs her tightly, whispering 'thank you, thank you' over and over again.

When the door to Aranea's office opens, Dave (who had been waiting for Karkat to get out) automatically glances in that direction and sees Karkat in the doorway, Aranea behind 's him with a hand clapped on his shoulder. Karkat eyes are red rimmed, his cheeks tear stained, and he looks incredibly sad. Dave is on his feet and the two are moving towards each other, Dave's arms open for Karkat, who falls into them. Dave holds him, kissing his hair.

Aranea stands in the background, watching as they leave, Dave's arm wrapped around Karkat's shoulders. "Good for you two," she whispers to herself.

Karkat looks back and catches Aranea's eye. They share a smile. Aranea waves.

They both know that Karkat won't call her. And Aranea is fairly certain that Karkat won't forget her, either.

---

Dave and Karkat end up not going to lunch. Instead, they buy icecream cones - strawberry and vanilla - and sit at a bench near the park. Karkat's head leans against Dave's shoulder. "I'm scared." Karkat says, more to himself than to Dave. He keeps thinking about what it will be like not to go see a therapist, not to have someone he can confess everything to. "Aranea was always there for me... and now..."

There is a shuffling movement as Dave worms his hand into his pocket for his phone. Karkat moves off Dave, looking at him with a curious eye. Dave starts typing, thumbs moving swiftly across the keyboard.

Karkat's heart lifts when he sees the words.

ill be here

Chapter Text

Karkat stood in front of Dave, blocking his view of the TV like a pro, hands on his hips. This was it. This was the final day that Dave Strider would get away with wearing the same outfit. Five days was enough. He had washed it a total of once. And that, that was not good enough for Karkat. "We're going to your house."

Dave pushed his shades up onto his head, making eye contact with his boyfriend. His expression was quite clear, quite easy to read. No way . Dave hadn't been there in almost a week, preferring Karkat's apartment than being there with John and Rose. Besides, here he had someone to lay next to every night. Someone who fit perfectly into his arms and someone who was ever so kissable in the early mornings. Ever so kissable anytime of the day, really. Dave just really liked the tired half kisses. They were special. At his "home" (did he really think of it as home anymore?) there was only an over expectant sister and a worried best friend.

He didn't really want to see them.

"You need clothes, Dave. And some other personal items. Like a toothbrush?" Karkat slid into Dave's lap, taking his sunglasses and placing them over his own eyes. "If you're going to be staring here for days on end, you better get some of your shit from home." Dave reaches over Karkat and grabs his phone.

so when do we go to my house then when should we make the voyage

"Today," Karkat says, and stands up, grabbing his car keys. "Right now. Get your ass up, lazy." He took Dave's hand and led him up. "Find your shoes and let's go."

It took twenty minutes to find Dave's shoes, which somehow ended up under Karkat's bed. Dave pulled the way too worn converse on, shoved the laces down in the bottoms. "You need new shoes."

no way man i love these things

theyre my children

"You need to take better care of your children." Karkat laughs, kisses Dave's cheek. Dave quirks up a smile.

yeah he types. but thats how you know theyre well loved

---

Dave's house is not like Karkat expected. It's clean, insanely clean, probably thanks to his sister. It's also decently sized, three bedrooms and two baths. When they walk in, Dave's sister walks swiftly into the room, and when she sees Dave standing there in the living room, her eyes widen and she runs to him, wraps her arms around his shoulders and just squeezes. "Dave," she whispers. "Dave, Dave, Dave... You're back. You're okay."

It is then that she notices Karkat. Sees him standing there awkwardly behind Dave's shoulder. She pulls away. Rose isn't really sure why he's there, but she welcomes him. "Hello. You're Karkat, correct?"

He nods. Dave types.

this is my boyfriend His arm rests across the back of Karkat's shoulders after Rose looks up from the message. were here to get some of my things. im staying with him for awhile

They can both tell that Rose disapproves. But right when she's about to say something, in comes what Karkat can only assume is John Egbert.

Instantly, Karkat can see why Dave loves him. He is pretty to look at. Dark hair that brought out gorgeous sea colored eyes that one could easily get lost in forever. And when John sees Dave, his face lights up, he grins widely. "Hey," John says, moving forward. "Knew you'd be back." His eyes, too, move to Karkat, yet his smile doesn't falter. "Who's this?"

Rose answers for Dave. "Dave's boyfriend, apparently. Karkat."

"Hi," Karkat says, quietly. "You're John."

"I am. You've heard about me." The already wide smile becomes impossibly wider. Karkat just nods again. "So you brought the boyfriend over for a visit, huh?" Dave shakes his head, readys his typing fingers for an explanation. But Rose beats him to it.

"They're here to get Dave's things and go back to Karkat's place."

It's apparent, John's surprise. It's there in the way his eyebrows go up and the way his eyes widen. His mouth forms an 'o'. Karkat will give him this: he bounces back fast. The smile comes back with a slight twitching of his lip. "Oh?"

"We should...," Karkat clears his throat. "We should go get his things then." Dave leads him towards his room, throwing a wave at his sister and best friend. "It was nice meeting you," Karkat says before stepping into the bedroom.

Once the door is closed, Dave goes straight to his closet and gets a bag, then to his dresser, where his rips open the drawers and starts shoving handfuls of clothes into it. He grabs his spare phone charger and his laptop. He picks up a stray book from the floor, quickly flips through the pages. A photo flutters to the floor.

"What's that?"

Dave picks it up, hands it to Karkat. It's a picture of a man who looks similar to Dave, but is obviously older. He wears pointy edged sunglasses and a gray colored hat. He is completely expressionless. Karkat just knows that it's Dave's brother. "Looks like a badass." Dave smiles, takes the picture back and places it carefully into his bag."

ill grab my hair brush and my toothbrush and well go k karbaby

"Okay."

---

It is much, much later. Karkat and Dave had brought his stuff back, placed it next to Karkat's in the right places. They'd barely talked to Rose and John as he left, Dave had just told them that he'd see them later. Now, Dave stands in Karkat's bathroom, fresh out of the shower, staring at himself in the mirror. He is concentrating. Concentrating hard.

Come on.

What was it Aranea had told him? Try the letter sounds first. Make the 'A' sound. Come on, Dave.

It is hard, so hard, to bring himself to even make a noise, a small sound. It should be effortless. Dave is struggling. How is it that he can laugh, but not make a small, tiny, unimportant vowel sound?

Come on, Dave, come on.

Do this. For Bro. For Rose and John and Karkat .

For yourself.

He opens his mouth, stares into his own crimson eyes. He can feel it coming, a small "ah". Feels it crawling up his throat. It's so close. He can do this. I can do this.

The sound vanishes completely, like it was never there. When it's gone, Dave feels empty. It was so close, so near. He almost had it. In the mirror, he watches as his own eyes fill with tears. Dave Strider collapses on the floor in a complete mess of himself.

I can't do it.

Chapter Text

i guess im really useless

i cant even even talk to save my life

if a man burst into this building held a gun to my head and said

say extraterrestrials are people too or suffer the consequences

id suffer those damn consequences

It has been three days since Roses's house and Dave's failed attempt at words. Three days of feeling miserable and not quite himself. He doesn't know if Karkat has noticed or not... but then again, how could he? Dave couldn't speak, there was no tip off in tone about a lousy mood. And his sunglasses covered up his eyes quite well. If eyes are windows to the souls then he'll block the windows out.

But he has been distant. He'd stare straight ahead while Karkat tried to talk to him, try to make jokes about anything he could think of. And Dave would type back something quick and witty and show it to him without a glance in his direction. When they laid in bed at night, Dave would roll onto his side and shut his eyes. There were no more late night talks that Dave had previously enjoyed so much. He'd just try to sleep, try to ignore the weight of Karkat's presence behind him. But that presence was so hard to ignore when Karkat would wrap his arm around Dave's middle and fit his body behind Dave's.

He wondered if those things hurt Karkat. If they stung. But surely not. Karkat was strong and understanding. Karkat would get it. If no one else, there was always Karkat for him.

Three days. Three days wasn't really all that long.

Now, he sat in Aranea's office, shades in place, because he doesn't want her to see his soul either. He doesn't want anyone to look into his soul for awhile. He feels discouraged. Awfully discouraged. And afraid. He's so scared that he will never be able to talk again. He's scared that he will talk again, eventually, and the silence, the way he mourned his brother, would be gone.

And talking was so hard anyway.

"You're not useless, Dave," Aranea says. She wears this lovely blue dress and her hair is slightly curling at the ends. She looks fantastic today. Absolutely astonishing. She's gotten new glasses, white frames this time. They fit her face perfectly, make her eyes seem more open than they already did. Dave can see straight to her soul easily. "Talking will be difficult. But you will get there. I know you will."

karkat wants me to meet his family

what will they think when he brings home a boy that cant talk that cant even tell them his name for gods sake

he should be ashamed of me. he conquered his demon and i cant conquer mine

i want to quit therapy i dont want to do this anymore i dont want to be here

"Dave...," Aranea honestly doesn't know what to say, but through her eyes, in her soul, Dave can see a piece of her heart chip off, like Dave saying he wanted to quit had actually hurt her. Maybe it had. Maybe Aranea really wanted him to succeed. But he didn't. He didn't want to try anymore. The disappointment in himself was too strong, the failure too heavy. He felt so worthless for the past three days. All because of a stupid, insignificant vowel sound.

"If you want to quit, I won't make you stay. I won't try to convince you otherwise." She breathes a deep sigh, one that causes her to shut her eyes for a few seconds, to mull over her thoughts. When she opens them again, the blue reminds Dave of John. But only for a moment. "Let me say this, though. You have made progress since the first time I saw you."

Progress? Dave can't see it. He's tried every speaking exercise suggested to him by Aranea and he still can't utter a sound. One single fucking sound.

But he nods, like he understands even though he doesn't. He nods and stands and walks out the door without looking back.

---

Dave had told Karkat on the second day that yes, he would go with him to Karkat's parents' house. He didn't really want to go. He was nervous, really nervous, to meet the people who had created Karkat. Who raised him and loved him unconditionally. What would they think of Karkat's choice for a boyfriend? Would they think he was a loser? Maybe they'd assume mental issue, which wouldn't be much better.

The car ride there is so quiet. The silence, usually so comforting around them, compresses and chokes them, the pressure of it is numbing. When Dave sneaks a quick glance at Karkat, he notices that his hands are shaking on the steering wheel. Dave touches a hand gently and Karkat, without taking his eyes off the road, moves his hand and grasps Dave's tightly. He lets a gust of air out and a smile makes its way to his face. That smile warms Dave all the way down to his toes.

He really cares about that Karkat of his. He hopes Karkat knows that.

They pull into a driveway to a yellow painted house with a white fence. It's such a generic house for this type of neighborhood that Dave wants to laugh. Or maybe that just his nervousness bubbling up in his stomach. He swallows it down as it threatens to erupt from his dusty, rusted vocal cords.

"Come on." Karkat takes his hand as they walk up the sidewalk path to the door. "Just a warning: my parents are the exact opposite of each other." And with that, he reaches for the knocker, knocking three short times.

The door is opened by a woman who is shorter than both of them with light blonde hair and eyes the color of the sky. She wipes her hands on the apron she wears and pulls her son into a hug. "Oh, Karkat!" she exclaims, and her voice reminds Dave of a music box. "It's been so long!" She pushes back, hands still holding Karkat's forearms as she looks up at him. "Why haven't you paid me a single visit?"

Karkat looks sheepish, Dave thinks. Embarrassed. "Sorry, Mom... B...Busy." All three of them notice the stutter. Karkat looks more embarrassed, his mom looks sad, and Dave's eyes widen behind his shades. Karkat had been doing so great, hardly ever messing up. It must be because of the nerves, he deduces. Poor Karbaby...

"Well... Come in, come in!" says Mrs. Vantas. "And bring your friend!" She shoots Dave a bright, sunshine smile. Her happiness, her cheeriness, it's contagious. Dave smiles back.

The interior of the house matches the exterior. It's very pretty, very neat and orderly. Dave decides he likes it. He and Karkat are seated on the couch in the living room. Mrs. Vantas sits next to Dave. She adresses him. "Hello," she says in that melodic voice. "And you are?"

And there it was. The dreaded introducing himself. Oh, god. Trembling hands fumble for his phone so that he can answer. He looks at Karkat for a bit of help. Tell her my name and my condition, he silently begs.

Please.

Karkat, fantastic, wonderful, dear Karkat, takes the hint. "Mom, this is Dave Strider." He's not sure how to word the next part, but he tries. "He's a patient at Aranea's, too. He... He's mute."

"Oh!" says Karkat's mom. She places a hand on Dave's shoulder. "Do you know sign language?" To answer he question, Dave nods and signs 'Nice to meet you.' It's excellent when Mrs. Vantas signs back 'Nice to meet you, too.' They share a smile, which makes Karkat more confident to say this next part. "He's also my boyfriend." He says it kinda fast, definitely in a rush. But his mother heard it, and she turns that springtime smile onto her son.

"That's lovely, Karkat." She winks at Dave. "You've got yourself a good man."

What Dave can only assume is Karkat's father chooses this moment to walk in. This must be where Karkat gets the dark-hair-dark-eyes combo, and Dave can see how his father and mother's genes mixed together to make Karkat. He's got his father's coloring, but his mother's face structure and almost fair body type. "Who's this?" his father asks, obviously addressing Dave before his son.

"Darling, this is Dave. He's Karkat's boyfriend." Karkat's dad makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Dave can't tell if it's disapproving or acknowledging. Karkat was right though: his parents were complete opposites.

"Couldn't he have told me that himself?" He looks straight at Dave, eyes searching. It freaks Dave out and he opens his mouth to say something before he realizes he can't.

"Dave is broken, too, Dad." Karkat speaks up on Dave's right side, and the attention shifts from Dave to him, which Dave cannot complain about. In high school, Dave wanted all the attention on him. Funny how things change. "He's broken, too. And we take care of each other." Their hands join and Karkat moves his stare from his father to Dave. His eyes soften and Dave can see it. He can see that Karkat loves him. They've known each other for such a short time, and Karkat hasn't even heard his voice, but he loved Dave anyway. "He can't talk yet," Karkat continues, still looking at his boyfriend. "But that's okay, because he's trying. And he'll get it someday. Until then, I'll speak for him. Especially in groups like this."

And Karkat's father, he doesn't say anything. Well, not about Dave anyway. He looks at his son and smirks. "Nice to see you, Karkat."

---

The rest of the night had went well. Karkat told him about not going to therapy anymore, which, Dave could tell, made his parents very happy. They ate a dinner that his mom had made. It was delicious, much better than Rose's home cooking. And a lot better than the TV dinners Dave so often dined on. Later, Karkat's brother, Kankri, had stopped by, and that was an experience in itself. Dave had never known someone who could talk as much as Kankri Vantas. And about such boring subjects, too! After about fifteen minutes, Dave had noticed that the only one actively listening had been Mrs. Vantas. Karkat and Mr. Vantas had started watching TV.

Dave liked Karkat's parents. He liked how different they were, how despite their differences, they still loved each other. He had enjoyed watching them interact. Had almost laughed at them way Mr. Vantas huffed when Mrs. Vantas hit him with a spoon for "pinching her behind where Karkat's quest could see" (as she put it).

When Karkat told them it was time for him to leave, his father had ruffled his hair and pushed his head away. "You better come back soon," he had said (in an almost threatening tone). "Or we'll come to you." His mother had hugged him again, kissed his cheek.

"I'm so proud of you," she had told him. Then she hugged Dave. "I know you two will take care of each other."

They sat in the car, now, the engine idling in the driveway. There was silence again, but it wasn't stifling this time. It was gentle and relaxed, the way it should be with the two of them. Dave takes his sunglasses off and set them on the dashboard, index finger tilting Karkat's head towards him. They kissed, long and sweet.

I love you, Dave mouthed against parted lips. Karkat pulled away slowly, their eyes meeting, connecting. Dave could tell he understood. And Karkat, he didn't have to say anything back, because Dave could see it. In his eyes, in his soul. But he replies anyway.

"I love you, too."

Chapter Text

As soon as the elevator doors close, they are on each other. Karkat's arms are secured around Dave's neck, back pressed against the right side wall. Dave's hands gripping onto Karkat's waist. Their mouths, their tongues, move together with fluidity, and Karkat makes small, whining noises into Dave's mouth. It drives him crazy, makes him wild. Whispers of Karkat's "I love you" from earlier in the evening echo in his mind. He loves me, he loves me. The thought is what makes him continue, move forward, his hands now pushing up the light fabric of Karkat's shirt, fingers brushing over sensitive skin, lips attaching to his neck, right by his pulse.

Karkat's head falls back with a sharp gasp, followed by a low moan, chocolate eyes heavy lidded as he glances toward the elevator door. They are almost to his floor, he notes. He should push Dave away soon. Soon... but not now. They can chance a few more minutes. Dave feels so good, he doesn't want to stop now. Doesn't want to stop ever. Those lips, kissing, sucking with every beat of his heart. His own hands move along Dave's shoulders, down his arms, fingertips running along the fabric of his sleeves.

And that is when the elevator dings and the pair is forced to jump apart, hastily smoothing out their clothes as the door slides open. Karkat grabs Dave's wrist, pulls him quickly through the hallway and to his apartment. He fumbles with the key, having to try three times before successfully fitting it into the lock and twisting it. The tumblers turn audibly and the two practically fall into the room, all over each other once more.

In fact, they are stumbling over each other's feet as they try to maneuver themselves into Karkat's bedroom. On their way to the not-so-distant land, they end up bumping into the surrounding walls several times, and each time is an excuse for them to stop and kiss heavily some more, one pushing the other against the wall, hands and mouths desperately exploring, hungry for the taste of the other's skin. By the time they make it to the room, to Karkat's bed, the erections are prominent, straining against their jeans.

"Dave," Karkat whimpers, pale hands pushing him down onto the mattress. "I haven't...Not in a long time..." He's not too sure, not too confident in how good he'll be for Dave. He wants it to be fantastic-- Dave deserved fantastic. What if right now isn't the time for fantastic? What if it's just time for... mediocre?

An index finger presses against Karkat's lips, and their gazes meet. The look on Dave's face is one that says "I'll take care of you."

The desperate kissing and groping slows, becomes gentle. Dave kisses Karkat's cheeks, his forehead, the corner of his eyes, his mouth. Flicks his tongue against Karkat's swollen, red lips. Karkat's tongue sneaks out to meet with the other muscle, his eyes heavy lidded. He leans up, pulls his shirt up and over his head.

And Dave, he stares, trying to memorize the sight in front of him, taking in every curve of Karkat's waist, every perfect imperfection that was Karkat Vantas. His Karkat Vantas. A boy he loved and adored. His hands ran down the length of Karkat's body, from his chest to his stomach. Dave kissed Karkat's collarbone, earning a light moan from the aphasiac. His kissed down the lightly tanned chest, now hovering over dusty pink nipples. He pecks them lightly, and Karkat makes more noises of encouragement.

"God..." Karkat is breathless, thanks to Dave's ministrations. The blonde's tongue trails down his chest and stops at his bellybutton and the feel of it drives Karkat wild. "Your shirt," he manages to choke out between gasps and contented, pleasured sighs. "Off..."

Karkat loves how Dave obliges, loves the way he so easily pulls fabric off, revealing his pale skin. So white he glows, Karkat thought, ghosting a hand over his boyfriend's chest. "Beautiful." The word had entered his mind and he had said it instantly; said it without a second thought, without a struggle to voice it. Dave gives Karkat an almost shy smile and leans down to kiss him once again, pressing their chests together in the process.

And, oh , how good that feels, their bare skin against each other.

Jeans are unbuttoned and slid down thighs, pushed off feet. There is nervousness in the air, from both ends. Nervousness and uncertainty. Are they really ready? Do they really want to do this now , so early into their relationship?

Dave looks at Karkat, and Karkat looks at Dave, and they grasp each others hands, pulses syncing. Yes. They both decide it at the exact same time. Yes, they are ready. Yes, now is a good time, a great time. Because they love each other. They've known each other for a short amount of time, yes, but in that short amount of time they have learned so much about the other.

They have conquered small problems and issues together.

Each of them want to continue to be a team. Inseparable and always there when they are needed. To remind each other of their love and to kiss away their sorrows and doubts.

Now is a perfect time.

In the same moment, they both let go of the other's hand and lean up to hook fingers in the opposite's boxers. They knock foreheads, and Karkat is knocked flat on his back, holding his head and groaning.

"Shit... Ow..."

Above him, Dave starts laughing, one hand on his head and one eye screwed shut. The crimson of his other eye is alight with amusement.

"Oh, shut up, David," Karkat groans, scowling and making his forehead wrinkle in the process. Dave stops laughing and, still sporting a huge grin, moves his lips to form the word Karbaby .

They try once again to remove the final article of clothing separating them, this attempt ending in success.

Seconds are spent with roaming eyes and hands, appreciating and nearly worshiping. Tan hands caress pale shoulders as the owner of the hands kiss every inch of skin possible. Little sighs and moans tumble from Dave's lips, blonde hair falling into his face as he watches Karkat's every move.

Karkat makes his way back up to Dave's mouth and pulls him into a kiss that they wish could last forever, until the end of time. A kiss that could last until the sun burns out and a long, jagged fissure runs along the Earth's crust. The kiss surrounds Dave, envelopes him in the warmth that is Karkat. The kiss makes Karkat forget his name, makes him forget his birthday, his blood type.

The kiss, the perfect kiss, is broken when Karkat pulls away ever so slightly, whispering five words against Dave's lips. "I'm ready when you are."

He is carefully led backwards until his head rests on a pillow behind him, legs gently spread apart as Dave settles between him. Karkat readies himself, closes his eyes and pulls him bottom lip between his teeth.

Dave taps on Karkat's stomach twice and Karkat opens one eye, looks up at him. "What?"

Lube? Dave mouths. Lotion? It takes Karkat a moment to make out just what Dave was trying to say, but then it all clicks into place. Of course. Stupid Karkat. "There's a shoe box under the bed. Should I get it?" He pushes himself up onto his elbows, but Dave shakes his head, hops off the bed himself and rummages around. It doesn't take him long at all to find a small bottle of lotion and resume his previous position, only this time he has a questioning look on his face, an eyebrow in his hair line, and a finger pointed at the lotion's label.

"There is nothing wrong with cherry blossom scented lotion, do not even start with me, Dave Strider, or so help me God--" His half-hearted rant is cut off when a slick finger presses against his entrance.

Preparing Karkat takes several minutes. He wasn't lying when he had said it'd been awhile. Dave is patient, takes his time. The last thing he wants is to hurt Karkat. He concentrates on the task at hand, listening to Karkat's whines of pain turn to moans of pleasure. The fingers curve just so, making sure to press against Karkat's prostate.

Oh, the noise that leaves Karkat's throat will be one that echos in Dave's dreams for nights to come.

When the fingers leave him, Karkat feels empty. . . He waits in anticipation to be filled again, legs open wide as possible. For a fleeting moment, he worries that he looks easy, that he looks like a whore. But when he sees the way Dave is looking at him, all fears vanish.

Dave takes Karkat's hand, lines himself up. As he pushes in, he squeezes his hand.

Both of their breath hitches, both of their eyes shut. Dave pushes forward until he is in to the hilt, Karkat tries to stay relaxed. A search for a sign, an okay to move. Karkat doesn't hesitate; he nods. He gives the okay.

The starting pace is slow, peaceful, and burns pleasantly up Karkat's spine. His breath is shaky, more so with each thrust. Dave's gaze never leaves Karkat, and Karkat struggles to keep eye contact with him.

"You can go a bit faster," Karkat chokes out. Dave doesn't have to be told twice.

Soon, the room is filled with moans, heavy breathing, and the light smack of the wooden headboard against the wall. The sounds bounce off the walls, fill their ears. Karkat gasps Dave's name as if it were a mantra, his own personal one. Their knuckles are white, their hold on each other's hand tight and secure.

Warmth pools in Dave's belly, and Karkat wraps his free hand around his own cock, stroking it in time with Dave's thrusts. Dave finds himself willing himself to last a little longer, not wanting any of this to be over any time soon. He's never felt so close to someone, not on this level.

It may just be the best feeling in the world.

All good things, we all know, must come to an end. And it's been so long for both of them. Karkat can feel his approaching orgasm take over every nerve ending in his body, all the way down to his toes, which curl up as his body tenses. He finishes only seconds before Dave, a loud cry reverberating through the room.

One, two, three thrusts later, Dave's body stills, his seed spilling inside Karkat. His noises stop entirely as he rides out his orgasm, body slumping forward.

Dave pulls out and falls next to Karkat, who rolls into his open arms. Their breathing takes time to regulate, and they wait it out by enjoying the silence and the afterglow. Karkat feels for the blanket, pulling it over them. Rests his head on Dave's still naked chest.

Wouldn't it be great if in this moment of complete closeness and vulnerability, Dave opened his mouth and out came his long lost voice? What if he told Karkat he loved him out loud? What a perfect end to a perfectly excellent day.

That wasn't going to happen, though. Sure, Dave played with the idea, thought about trying. In the end, though, he decided it wasn't worth it. Nothing was worth that disappointment again. He kisses Karkat's forehead, sends him all his love in thought.

Sleep comes easy and heavy that night.

Chapter Text

Their picture storybook romance comes to an abrupt end a month later.

Karkat, permanently out of therapy and rarely struggling with his speech at all anymore, managed to get a job at the library. It was a good setting for him, small, quiet, relatively easy to manage. He is slowly trying to ween himself away from the money his parents give him, the money that makes his living easier.

He went out with his friends more often, occasionally dragging Dave along for their outings, never really noticing Dave's discomfort, even though it was obvious to everyone else around them. Dave would drum his fingers, cross and uncross his ankles, and spill, at the very least, one drink.

Dave got along decently with Karkat's friends, though he really couldn't talk to Terezi (she was blind, he only communicated through visuals) though Karkat would tell her what he said and she'd let out a loud, cackling laugh that made everyone in the vicinity look over at them.

One of the few things Dave enjoyed when he was out with Karkat was the voices. Sollux's lispy voice, Aradia's melodic one. Gamzee's slurred speech when he had three beers, Terezi's upbeat speaking pattern. It made him wonder -- if his voice was found again -- what would he sound like? And would his voice contrast with Karkat's so perfectly, like the other's?

To be completely honest, Dave was jealous of Karkat. Of how Karkat overcame his speech problem and he still had to struggle everyday with his. Every time Karkat couldn't say a word, whether it was forgotton or just refusing to leave his lips, Dave felt surge of victory, a little ha sounding through his head.

Alone. Alone was another way Dave felt. Now that Karkat had progressed so much, he felt as though he no longer had someone to relate to, no one who would understand just how hard speaking was, how hard it was to get the words to come out. To outwardly say what was on his mind.

It was awful. No matter how much Dave wanted to be proud and happy for Karkat (and he did. He really did.), he just... couldn't. Like his words, the emotions just wouldn't come. And that frustrated him more than anything.

The day of The Fight started like any other.

Like every day spent with Karkat in his apartment, they woke up at 10:45 and made a simple, easy breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs, the only thing they could successfully make. They ate over morning conversation, Dave's typing a bit slower due to his brain still waking up, Karkat yawning every so often between words. At 11:05, Karkat gave Dave a ride to Aranea's for his therapy, then went to Sollux and Aradia's house for an hour before picking him back up.

A normal start, to a supposed-to-be-normal day. But as the clock neared twelve thirty, Karkat received a text from Dave.

johns picking me up today ill be back later

That wasn't too out of the ordinary. Dave often went to see John instead of coming straight home. It was just a small, minor setback to Karkat's original plan.

Today, Karkat was going to make it official. Dave stayed with him every night, came home to him every evening, and woke up next to him every morning. It only seemed appropriate to ask him to move in permanently. That would be ideal.

In fact, he had the perfectly executed scenario in his mind's eye. Karkat would ask, Dave would say yes, they'd both smile so big that their faces couldn't contain it. And they'd kiss, and kiss, and kiss, until Dave lead him back gently and they made love, right there, on the couch. The imagery was perfect. Now, it just had to be carried out.

To pass the time until Dave got back, Karkat watched TV. Or, he tried to. His mind was elsewhere, stuck on official-ness and day dreams. The time goes by slowly.

Dave comes home and Karkat is half asleep on the couch, Thisbe curled up on his chest. Dave sits down, placing Karkat's feet in his lap. He looks...extremely exhausted, Karkat notes. Karkat sits up, knocking the cat off in the process. "Are you okay?"

Dave looks at him, lips moving slowly, soundlessly. Then, he looks down, at his cellphone screen. He shows Karkat the pre-typed message. so what if i quit

Karkat doesn't need to ask what he means by that. There's only one thing Dave would want to quit. Therapy. And the thought makes Karkat's heart sink into the pit of his stomach. "I thought you were doing well."

i just dont wanna talk

can you understand that for me??

"We both know that isn't true," Karkat replies, acknowledging only the first line. He took Dave's shades off, turned them in his hands. "Dave, if you're scared--"

A white finger is held to Karkat's lip and Dave types with one hand. im not fucking scared i just dont see the point

whats so fuckin great about talking karkat can you tell me that

Words escape, Karkat struggles to find them, to find something to say to Dave. His mind is reeling, panicking. What could he possible say to make Dave feel better? There had to be something, somewhere.

He said the wrong thing.

Whispered words into a quiet room. Whispered words that enraged the other, made him snatch his shades, hop up from the couch, and storm right back out the door.

Words Karkat wished he could take back the minute, the second, they left his mouth. Everyone always said, "think before you speak". Karkat thought, he thought hard, but he'd still ended up saying the wrong thing. He was good at that.

"I just want to hear your voice."

Seven words, simple words constructed together to create a simple sentence. With those seven words, Dave was gone. And Karkat was left to stare after him. And wonder where he went.

----

Fights in relationships are common, Karkat told himself as he paced his living room floor the next day. They are common and they happen and him and Dave can get through this.

It's not like Dave's speaking is even important! What was Karkat thinking? Hahaha .Ariel from The Little Mermaid hadn't needed a voice. Voices aren't important: nothing is important except for Dave and Dave's happiness and their togetherness. If Karkat could, he'd give up his own voice, too. Speaking out loud was way too mainstream, anyway!

The Fight -- however small -- hung heavy in his mind, taking up every empty crevice. It haunted him all day, even when he tried to do something productive to keep his mind off of things. He checked his phone every thirty seconds, to see if there was any word from Dave. When he took a shower, he'd quickly dry off one hand and reach out, grabbing up his phone and scrolling through text messages.

There never was a message from Dave. Not until later that night.

---

"Hey there, stranger," his sister called from her room. "Having seen you in awhile."

Dave glanced at Rose, waved at her in greeting. She looked like she was about to go to bed, sporting a black pair of shorts and a purple tank top. Not to mention her room was dark, the only light from a small reading lamp on the bedside table. "Come talk to me," she said, patting the space on the bed beside her. "I have something I want to tell you."

It had been awhile since Dave and Rose had a brother-and-sister talk. Almost too long. He went, sat, and looked at her, a signal for her to say whatever it was she wanted to say.

"I miss you around here, Dave," was the first thing she said. Rose took her brother's hand in her's, looked into his sunglasses and saw only her reflection looking back. As if she were talking to herself. "But. . ." A smile lifted her lips. "But I'm glad that you found somebody that you want to spend your time with, that you want to be you with. I know how special that is." A squeeze. "And, if you want to stay with Karkat, who am I to try to stop you, or to even be upset enough to want to stop you? You're my brother, my only brother now--" Dave winced, Rose continued, "and I want your happiness first and foremost. Just try to visit me sometimes, okay? Both John and me."

He could've just nodded, faked a smile, gave her a reassuring hug and walk out of the room. He could've, it would have been easy. It had been day since he left Karkat's, staying the night at Jade's place, since she didn't live too far away. Only a day, and he already missed him something crazy. Missed him so much, he considered going back time and time again.

But he couldn't. And he needed to tell Rose that. Rose was his human diary, the person he always bothered with his problems, save for his feelings for John (and he could barely keep that to himself). It was a long message, nearly as long as the one he typed for Karkat not too long ago, when he was explaining his brother.

It said this: rose, he was so great.he was so great and he understood me he knew what it was like not to be able to speak. we were in mutual understanding and then he went and made progress and left me to struggle alone and without him struggling beside me i dont want to struggle anymore. and because i dont want to struggle anymore i dont want to speak anymore i never want to use spoken words again. and i told him right?? i told him and he didnt get it he didnt understand and karkat had always understood and i cant understand him not understanding. its hard rose its so hard and i just want karkat to support whatever i decide to do with my talking and he just DOESNT so i left. i left and i went to jades and now im back here because i dont want to see him anymore.

i feel betrayed

As he typed this last part, tears ran down his face, the threat of a sob choked him. He pushed up his glasses, wiped his eyes with his forearm, took his phone back, and added more.

i miss bro i miss him so much and if he were still here i wouldnt be going through any of this right now

whyd he have to die rose why did he have to leave

Rose, who always had all the words, as many as she needed, was now as wordless as our two protagonists. But instead of a reeling, panicking mind, she reached forward and hugged her brother close to her chest.

Dave cried out all the held back tears over the years. He cried for the losses of his life: John, his brother (especially his brother), and now, the loss of Karkat. For hours, tears pushed out of his eyes, wetting the front of Rose's shirt. And Rose didn't hush him, didn't tell him it was okay.

She was just there for him and that was what he needed.

---

The long, long awaited text from Dave finally arrives at ten 'til eleven.

Karkat's heart kicks into overdrive as he stares the the ONE NEW MESSAGE alert, praying that it is, indeed, Dave Strider. He had stopped himself countless times from texting Dave, from calling his sister and making sure he was alright. He gave Dave the space he needed. That's what you were supposed to do, right?

With a deep breath, he opened the message. It was from Dave. It wasn't what he had expected.

Two words. Two words that marked an ending, a closing of a book, of a chapter of Karkat Vantas's very own life.

were over

His phone fell from his hands.

Chapter Text

Two weeks. Two weeks isn't long, not long at all. That's what Dave was telling himself. Two is an insanely small number. The second smallest number if zero isn't counted. Fourteen days wasn't even that long when you think about it. Anything lower than twenty was nothing. Two weeks -- fourteen days -- without Karkat. It shouldn't be hard.

Three hundred and thirty six hours.

Three hundred and thirty six was a very, very big number. And three hundred and thirty six hours without Karkat was very, very hard. It's hard to go from spending almost every day, every hour, with someone and then suddenly. . . stop.

Each day seemed to drag on as Dave tried to get over Karkat, as he tried to keep his thoughts from going to him. He didn't want to think about Karkat, didn't want to think about his slight stutter when he said words he wasn't sure of, or the way it took him thirty minutes of turning and twisting in bed before he could get comfortable. Dave tried to keep himself busy, to keep himself on his toes, but without Aranea's therapy, that was proving harder than he thought.

Though today, a Thursday, was a very busy day. And for that, he was grateful to Rose and John and the engagement party that they finally decided to have. They had him and Jade running around the backyard, setting up tables and chairs and almost fancy looking plastic wear. They cleaned the entire house, top to bottom, and Dave listened to Jade chatter on about some guy she met.

"Tavros, he's really sweet," she said, sc rubbing at a stain on the kitchen floor. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her big, round glances slightly smudged. "Kinda shy. But it's cute!" She pushed herself up, dusted off her knees. "I like him. I hope it works out."

Dave held up his index finger. Hold on.

He took out his cellphone to give her n answer. good for you girl im happy for you. he gonna be at this shindig or what

Jade gave Dave a toothy grin. "Yeah, he said he'd come."

good so i can meet him and scare him a bit

"Dave!" She laughed. "If you do that, I'll never keep a boyfriend!"

pretty girl like you deserves the best boyfriend and if hes the best he wont get scared away

She went to the sink, rinsed the scrub brush off. "You're so nice, Dave. You deserve the best boyfriend, too."

The blonde said nothing; instead, he bit at one of his nails and rocked back on his heels. I let the best boyfriend go, he thought.

He didn't get the chance to dwell on the thought, thank God. Rose walked in, John behind her and hands clasped between them. "You two," she said. "Come on. I need you outside, now. Guests are starting to arrive." Jade saluted her, linked her arm with Dave's.

"Come on, Strider, let's party."

---

"Dave!"

Roxy Lalonde, Dave and Rose's cousin, threw her arms around Dave's neck, squeezing tightly. She smelled like vanilla body mist. "I haven't seen you in ages !" She pulls back, face alight and smile wide. "Rose told me you were going to therapy. How's that going?"

i uh i stopped doing that it wasnt really helping

He shifts, uncomfortable. He didn't like admitting that he had given up, just quit cold turkey. Especially to Roxy. There is a short silence that follows his confession, and Dave trys not to meet his cousin's eyes.

"Well, that's okay, too, Davey. At least you tried." Roxy takes a sip of the Diet Coke that she'd been drinking the entire night. Seven months sober, she refused to take any of the alcohol Rose had available. "So, are you happy for Rose and John? How weird is it that your bestie since forever is marrying your sister?"

Dave laughs, scratches the back of his head. bit weird but i mean look at them

look how happy they are

They look over at the couple, talking to Jane Crocker. John's arm around Rose's shoulders, her arm around his waist. John kisses her temple, and even from the distance, Dave can see his sister's eyes close in content. "Yeah," Roxy says, voice soft. "They look great together." Dave nodded in agreement, glad he finally managed to get over his feelings for John. Now that his judgement wasn't clouded with unrequited love, Dave could appreciate how well the two looked standing side by side.

He could be happy for them. The twinges of jealousy he used to get when he saw them together were long gone.

----

The rest of the night went by. Dave talked to Roxy some more, Jade introduced him to Tavros. He talked a bit with John's dad. Mostly, though, he sat by himself and people watched. He liked watching the others interact, liked listening in on some of the conversations. Sometimes, Dave forgot the people around him had lives, had their own likes and dislikes and their own troubles. It was easy to forget.

Maybe that's why he people watched so often. It gave him a small insiders look at the way people lived. He spent hours just observing.

Now, at the day's fine end, he sat on the couch, head against the back of it, next to John. They sat in the dark, the only noise coming from the radio, their positions and postures identical as they allowed themselves to relax for the first time since they woke up. Their eyes were shut. Two sighs were let out at the same time, then silence.

At least for fifteen seconds.

"Hey, Dave?" John said. Dave could hear him shifting, turning onto his side so that he was now facing Dave. "I should've asked you this sooner, but I kinda figured it was a done deal. You'll be my best man, right?"

Dave's eyes open and they focus on John. His phone is at the ready. if i can tell you something

i have to get this off my chest and i really hope it doesnt freak you out

the only people i told were my therapist and karkat and i think you really deserve to know more than either of them did

He shows John that first before typing up the next part. Dave levels his gaze, curious of how John will react. John just meets Dave's stare. "You know you can tell me anything."

i hoped you would say that

ok so dont freak aight?? remember that experimental relationship we had forever ago

John nods, waits for the next part. Of course he remembered, it was a big part of his life. He'd been bi curious after several dreams that he'd had of him kissing other boys his age. He'd wake up in the morning and sit and over think every aspect of the dream from that night. John remembered being so stressed out because of the dreams for weeks after. And then Dave had confessed these feelings for him, which further confused John, but also opened up a way to give John solace over the entire matter. He'd agreed, making sure Dave knew that it was an experiment, that there was a possibility it wouldn't work out.

And it didn't work out. John didn't remember how long they "dated"... a little over a month maybe? He just knew that all the kisses felt wrong, gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he shouldn't be doing this. So he ended it. And Dave said he'd understood.

god damnit john i was crazy about you

i was in love with you for YEARS afterwards. in fact i just got over those feelings for you not too long ago

"Is that why you always got that weird look on your face when Rose and I kissed or something? Like you just tasted something sour?"

yeah i guess but dude i swear to every fuckin thing that i am completely over you now like ew egbert no thanks

i just wanted you to know

"I wish you would've told me sooner," John said, sitting up. "We could've talked it out or something." Dave sits up as well, stretches his arms and pops his fingers. yeah i probably shouldnt have waited this long i just didnt want things to be awkward between us i guess

John hugged Dave, then. Folded his arms around Dave's shoulders and pulled him in close. Dave waited for that familiar surge to come back, to choke him up and make his heart pound. It didn't. Dave patted John's back. "You're my best friend, Dave. If things got awkward between us, it wouldn't stay forever. Remember the awkwardness that followed after you saw Rose and me together?" Dave nods. "That went away, didn't it?"

Dave pushed John away so he could answer. i guess yeah

"I'm glad you told me," John replied, eyes sincere. "And I really am sorry, that I couldn't return your feelings."

its ok you and rose belong together

but dude this is getting waaaaay too sappy for me im just going to go get ready for bed k

"Okay. See you in the morning, Dave."

On his way to the bathroom, Dave trips over the radio cord. John's laughs follow him even behind the closed door.

He goes to the sink, turning on the cold water and splashing his face a few times. He looks up, into the mirror, water dripping off his face. The mirror. An old adversary, his reflection. Dave took in his light hair, his way too red eyes and vein-y eyelids, his white eyelashes. How could Karkat ever like this, ever stand to look at him? He reached his hand out, touched fingertips to the cool glass. Dave wondered if he should try, if he could handle the disappointment he was sure would follow. Minutes were spent arguing with himself. It's not worth it.

But what if it was?

Dave turned away from the mirror, to the door. He wanted to move forward, to leave the bathroom and put this all behind him, but some unknown force stopped him. The same unknown force that made him turn back to the mirror. And probably the same unknown force that made him open his mouth, made him try to make the sound rise up from his vocal cords.

Come on.

Just a little 'ah' noise.

He saw the sweat bead on his forehead, his hands clenched on the edge of the sink.

One noise.

"Aaah."

Chapter Text

"Karkat, come on. Wake up."

A hand falls onto his shoulder and shakes him, rousing him from his deep sleep little by little. Karkat's eyes open to little slits, the world around him blurred by the left over sleep. A yawn forces its way out of his mouth. "Go away..." He nudges the hand away and turns over, onto his stomach, his face buried in his pillow.

"It's fuckin' two in the afternoon, Karkat. Get up. You're wasting your life away."

More shaking, relentless until Karkat finally cannot take anymore of it and sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Why're you here?" Exhaustion lingers in his voice. Sollux shakes his head, rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. His chest heaves with a sigh.

"I'm just trying to make sure you don't go into a coma. Because you sleep that much, KK." He goes to Karkat's closet, pulls a shirt off its hanger. "Get up, get dressed, and come on. I'm sick of seeing you like this."

Karkat stares at the shirt in his hands. "I don't like this shirt."

"I don't like your attitude."

He puts the shirt on, grumbling to himself as he does so. Karkat didn't want to wake up; he certainly didn't want to go anywhere. He was content with wallowing in his misery and sleeping his days away. But, as always, when Karkat was at his lowest, Sollux was there, holding out a hand to him and pulling him back up onto his feet. Whether Karkat liked it or not. And usually, Karkat didn't.

He'd been dreaming. Dreaming about Dave and the secure feeling of arms surrounding him, a comforting voice whispering to him. That was always what Karkat was dreaming about these days. It'd been a little under a month since that heart-shattering, world-crushing text message. A little under a month spent sleeping and dreaming and thinking and crying. And Sollux coming over once a week to wake him up, to drag him out, to try to make him forget that Dave was gone.

It never worked. How could Karkat forget something like that? It wasn't like before, with Eridan Ampora. Eridan had been a dick, with few sweet moments. Dave had been... his savior. His savior and his rock. His person.

Days -- weeks -- were spent beating himself up. Yelling at himself for making Dave leave. If I were better, he would still be here. If I were more understanding. The weight of that text message, the loaded two words, haunted his conscious mind, while the unconscious part tricked him into thinking Dave was still around, waking him with disappointment and a freshly broken heart day in and day out.

Karkat didn't even know where to begin to get over Dave Strider.

"KK, still with me?" Sollux snapped his fingers in front of his best friend's face. "Let's go. Arcade today. Just like in high school."

The arcade. They hadn't been there in years. It'd been their preferred place to hang out, wasting tons of money on games they'd played dozen of times but still managed to never get tired of. Sollux was great at video games. Karkat, not so much. He was always losing to Sollux in Mortal Kombat, always coming in last place in Mario Kart. He used to get so angry, so pissed off at one little game, pointing his finger at Sollux and demanding a rematch, tomorrow, same time, only to lose again.

Karkat had loved the arcade. Everything about it (apart from his losing streak). From the atmosphere, the dim lighting, the familiar video game music that would get stuck in his head for hours afterwards. He always looked forward to blowing his allowance there.

And he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a little bit of excitement left in him.

---

But first, they had to stop by Aradia's.

"Heeeey," she greeted when she answered the door. "Sorry for calling on such short notice, Sollux, but, ha, my computer won't turn on and I kinda need it."

Sollux sighed, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek and then pushing past her, letting himself in. "What do you need it for?"

"To check facebook, silly." Aradia smiled at Karkat, gesturing for him to come inside.

"You made me come over here so you could check facebook ?" Sollux's voice was distant, coming from Aradia's bedroom, where her computer was located. "Typical woman."

"Excuse you," she called back. "I have to see when my cousin Damara's flight is arriving." She looked back at Karkat. "Men. Do you want something to drink?" Not waiting for Karkat to answer, Aradia got a cup down from the cabinet and filled it with ice and water, handing it to him. Karkat sipped it, leaning against the counter. "Haven't seen you in awhile. Thought you might've taken a step off the side of the Earth."

Karkat ran a finger along the edge of his glass, staring into the water. "I just haven't felt up to going outside lately."

"I thought that might be it." Aradia hoisted herself up, taking a seat on the counter. She pulled her messy, brown hair up into a ponytail. "You know the old saying: If you love someone, let them go. If it's meant to be, they'll come back."

"What if you chased them away?" He bit his lip, looking up at Aradia. "What if you were too demanding, too caught up in your own bullshit to see that something was wrong?"

Aradia took her time to ponder this, swinging her feet and looking off into the distance. "The Karkat I know is never too caught up in his own bullshit. The Karkat I know is always looking out for others, wanting what's best for them." She smiled, then. A huge smile that stretched across her face and lit up her eyes. "That's how I decided I liked you. When Sollux introduced me to you and Gamzee." A laugh. "To be honest, I didn't really know what to think of either of you. You were so...onry!"

"Do you remember when my mother died?" Karkat nods. "I wasn't at school for a week. I was distraught. Any kid would be if they lost their mother. When I came back, everybody was awkward around me, like they didn't know what to say to me, what might set me off. Even Sollux." Aradia reached over, taking Karkat's water from his hand and taking a drink for herself. "Everyone...except you. You acted just like you always had around me. At first, it pissed me off. And just as I was about to say something rude to you, to really let you have a piece of my mind, you looked at me. You looked at me and said, 'By the way, how are you feeling?' And your eyes were so sincere. You were the first person who said anything about it to me all day."

"Yeah," Karkat whispered. "I remember. Didn't you hug me or something?"

"Yes!" Aradia laughs, and it echos off the walls and fills the entire house. "Yes, I hugged you. And I cried. And you patted my back and made those stupid 'shhh' noises. And that is when I knew what kind of person you were." She drains the glass of the last of Karkat's water. "I don't think you were too caught up in your own bullshit at all."

"Your computer's up and running now, AA," Sollux said, entering the kitchen. "Though you might want to consider getting a new one."

Aradia hopped off the counter and Karkat stood straight up. "Thanks so much , Sollux." She kissed him, pushing herself onto her tiptoes slightly. Picture perfect, Karkat thought as he watched them. "I'll let you and Karkat have you male bonding time or whatever it is." She walked them to the door, holding Sollux's hand in her's and swinging it between them.

Sollux kissed her forehead before their departure. "See you later." Karkat nodded, lifting his hand in farewell and mouthing Thank you .

---

He arrives back at his apartment at eight thirty, dropping his keys on the coffee table and throwing himself on his couch. Karkat stares at his ceiling, making shapes and pictures out of the texture. He's trying to keep his mind busy, anywhere from you-know-who. It had been a good day. He lost to Sollux (expectantly) and ended up making a huge scene of trying to yell "Fuck!" when his character died, but not being able to get the word out. Which frustrated him even more, causing him to kick the machine angrily. All of the pimply kids there stared, pointed, sniggered. After Karkat had cooled down, anger subsiding, he had laughed along with Sollux.

Laughed so hard he cried, unable to catch his breath.

Just as he was thinking this last thought, however, a knock sounded throughout the apartment. Karkat sat up, looking at his door. He waited.

Another knock.

It was probably just Sollux, he told himself, extinguishing his small hopes. Or Gamzee. Maybe even Terezi or Kankri. They want to see how he's doing. Karkat pushed himself up just as whoever it was knocked again. "Coming," Karkat said. But the person outside the door didn't hear it. His voice was barely above a whisper.

He fumbles with the lock, not quiet able to turn it. He jostles it a little, along with the door knob. Finally, Karkat gets it. And he, of course, opens the door.

And in that doorway stands Dave. Dave, with his shades over his eyes and his hands in his pockets, biting the inside of his cheek. He looks so nervous and so scared and Karkat can't stop staring, one hand reaching out to grab at his sleeve, as if he was just a figment of Karkat's imagination and Karkat needed reassurance, needing to make sure he was tangible. A tan hand grasps the red sleeve, feeling the material.

He doesn't even realize he's crying until Dave brushes his thumb beneath his eye, catching a single tear. "I missed you," Karkat whispers, hoping to God that Dave is here to stay. Dave pulls him in, holding Karkat tight against him, kissing the top of his head. It feels so good, so right. Karkat's arms surround his, fist clenching at the back of his shirt. He had missed Dave, missed Dave so much that even now, with Dave right in front of him, in his arms again, his chest ached for Dave. If I'm dreaming wake me up now.

But Karkat doesn't wake up, and he takes that as a sign.

"I'm so sorry," he sobs into Dave's chest. "I'm such an asshole, I shouldn't have argued with you. You don't have to talk, Dave. You never have to talk because we don't need talking, we just need each other and we just need our feelings. Talking is overrated." He's rambling, random words that seem to make sense spilling from his lips. He is afraid. Afraid that if he stops for only a second, Dave will leave. And if Dave left now, Karkat would hurt twice, no, three times, as bad as the first time. He can't handle it again.

"I love you, I love you and I need you and I missed you."

Dave kisses the top of his head again, then gently pushes him away. He takes out his cellphone.

karkat i love you too and i missed you and i shouldnt have left

leaving was really immature and i shouldve stayed so we couldve sorted it out or something

i was just scared that one disagreement would lead to another and another and wed break up no matter what

but ive done some thinking.... a lot of thinking

and fuck karkat i dont want to be without you ok

and actually....i have something i want to say to you

Karkat waits for Dave to type to him what he wants to say, but he doesn't, so Karkat looks away from the cellphone screen and looks up at Dave. Dave pushes his sunglasses up, ruby eyes meeting Karkat's own. He takes a moment, looking into Karkat's soul and letting Karkat look into his.

His heart is pounding, racing with adrenaline. Dave Strider takes a breath through his nose, lets it out through parted lips. And he opens his mouth, just a little. Just a little is all he needs.

In a scratchy, under used, neglected voice, he speaks. Only one word.

"Karbaby."

Chapter Text

"You don’t.. have to stare at it twenty four seven," Dave manages to say, voice cracking only slightly. “It’s not going to disappear."
Karkat hears him, but doesn’t answer, his eyes glued to the band on his ring finger.