Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 You are already yourself. It is not as pleasant as one may think. Instead, you open your eyes to the red, burning sun you have known for longer than anything. It does not bring you any sort of comfort.

 It is hot. Not as hot as LOHAC, but still considerably so. You find yourself laid on your back, a solid floor beneath you, or rather — a rooftop. One that was engraved with memories, painful and humiliating memories at that.

 You hear a caw. Which would not be an unusual sound considering where you are more than sure you are currently, but, the screech was far closer than you would like. You turn your head, still on the ‘floor’, it is an uncomfortable position with your shades on.

 What you find is a crow. Nestled next to your shoulder, looking a little too comfortable. You try to shoo it away. It flies up, and you think you succeeded in driving it away, but it just lands on your chest instead. You glare at it through your shades, and it just looks back at you, with… orange eyes, and now that you mention it its feathers do have some orange to them.

 “…” You stare at it a little more, and it gives you a little caw in response again. You raise your hand, placing it on the bird's back, and it lets you. You run your fingers through its feathers automatically, staring at your arm that isn't orange.

 You sit up, startling the crow who takes flight once again, and you think it's finally leaving, but it just lands on top of your head. You let out a growl, but at the same time you hear a sigh a little far to your other side, and there he lays.

 “The real” Dave, sporting his godtier gear and everything. The sight of him shakes something inside of you. It's the first time you see after those three years in the ship, maybe you caught a glance or two of him as davepetasprite^2, but that doesn't really count.

 He is some good inches taller than you. As a sprite your body didn't grow, so you were stuck with the same height you (and him) were at thirteen years old. It didn't seem weird to you, but now, looking at him — What you could have grown into — you can't help but feel lesser.

 You try getting up, but you can't float anymore, so you try doing it the old way. And it doesn't work either. You notice you can't feel your legs, something that hadn't bothered you in the short time you've been awake because you have lived years without them so it felt natural. You worry about it momentarily before deciding to deal with it later and just crawl over to the Dave that's still unawake.

 You shake him a bit, not putting too much effort into it, really. He stirs, but doesn't move more than that. You seriously think about just leaving him there for a moment.

 “That's some real colorful shades you got there.” He sits up and looks around before looking back at you. “Davesprite?”

 “Yeah.” You wonder what was that about your shades. “Do you know what happened? Last thing I remember we were beating Lord English's ass.” And now you're back where it all started, you don't say.

 “We won the fights.” He puts a hand on his head, “John, Karkat and Jane opened the door. And then everything went blank.”

 You hum, “Our big reward for beating the game is going back home, huh?” it is a tasteless, almost bitter thing to say. Was everything you did for the game really worth it?

 “Looks like it.” Dave shrugs. He points to the top of your head, “What's up with the bird?”

 “Oh.” You forgot about it. “I'm like, pretty sure it's that one crow we killed that day. You know.”

 “For real?” He can't keep still, looking to the sides as if waiting for something.

 “Yeah, I think it likes me or something.” Dave nods, but you don't think he's paying attention to you. “Something wrong?”

 “No. I just have this feeling-” He abruptly stops talking, mouth left hanging open, he stares somewhere behind you. You turn your head. A little more distant from where you two are on the rooftop, is a person. That person. You don't know what to say.

 “What the hell.” Dave says for the both of you and yeah. What the hell? Your dead crazy ass older brother slash ecto biological dad is in the same spot the two of you were some minutes ago — laid on the floor, that is.

 You aren't sure what you are feeling. Nor what you should be feeling at a time like this. Without thinking about it, you get up, and you even do manage to stand up, but after trying to take one step ahead you fall down straight to the floor. Dave hurries close to you.

 “What are you doing?” He sounds on edge, and you can't really blame him, can you?

 “I forgot my legs ain't working for some reason.” You can take some guesses as to why that is, but you figure it doesn't matter right now.

 “They're not?”

 “Yeah.” You manage to sit up, still staring at the body that is yet to move, “Can you help me up?”

 Dave doesn't question and does as you asked, he puts your arm around him and supports you up by holding your side, but he just stands there, staring.

 You take a breath. “Look. I know it's weird and all seeing him, a bit unsettling too? Yeah. But hey, we need to check if he's alive or if we got a corpse on the rooftop, right?”

 “I guess.” You can see he's beginning to sweat, out of nervousness, probably. And wow, you need to look up to see that, he's almost a head taller than you.

 He takes a step. And then another. You don't know if he's being slowed down by your dead weight, or if he's just wary. Anyway, in no time you reach him. Your bro. Dirk Strider? It would make sense if his name was the same as his teenage counterpart. You never knew it for some reason.

 Dave doesn't let you go but neither does he get down, so you just keep standing awkwardly.

 You see your bro's chest rising and falling, slowly, but it is. “He's breathing.” He's alive. You… need some big time to think about how you feel about all this. Later. “Do we wake him up?”

 “Do we want that?” Dave is clearly in a fight or flight mode. Which to be fair, you'd probably do the same if your legs weren't jelly. It has always been fight or flight with bro. But you'd be damned if you ever chose flight.

 “I don't know, man.” A better question would be ‘do we need that’ which the answer can be both yes and no depending on the circumstances. “Just nudge him with your foot and if nothing happens, we head inside.”

 “Okay.” He doesn't really sound sure about it, but he does what you say. And why is he doing what you say? Your interactions thus far in this roof have just felt natural, for some reason.

 Dave nudges bro's side with his foot two times. He doesn't move, but you see his chest stop moving for a second and the movements that follow that look almost mechanical. You feel yourself be dragged as Dave takes some steps away. He probably noticed the same thing you did.

 It happens fast.

 One second bro was still, then he quickly sat up, another second went by, and he's gone. He flash stepped out of your vision. Your crow buddy was startled by that and decided to nestle in a corner far ahead.

 You hear an intake of breath coming from Dave and when you look at him, you can see his eyes opened wide behind his shades. You notice his breathing is irregular and ragged.

 “Hey.” You're not sure if he heard you, so you try again. “Dave.” He perks up this time, but still looks dazed. “Can you sit us down?” He does as you say. You don't know how he hadn't just dropped you in that state.

 You hold up your hands for him to see, “Can you do the same I'm doing?” he slightly raises one shaky hand. Good enough. “Now, all you gotta do is breathe in.” It's not as easy as it sounds, and you know it, but you demonstrate anyway and slowly close your hands in the process, “And then out.” you open up your hands again as you let out air. “Now do it with me.”

 Dave seems to get it, and in a minute or so his breathing is no longer irregular. “…My bad.” Is the first thing he says.

 “Nah, it's fine.” Sometimes you got like that in the ship. Jade and sometimes even John tried to help you those times. You just combined their techniques.

 “Do you think he went inside?” He asks, looking at you, his voice still shaky.

 “Probably.” You take in a deep breath and sigh, “We should too.”

 “Yeah.”

 “I can talk to him if you can't.” You rethink that. “If he shows up to talk.”

 “Thanks, but there's no need.” You stare at him, “I just, well, I never thought I would ever get to be face to face with him again. And now we are here.”

 You nod. You get it — of course you do — that guy is the reason the both of you are kind of fucked up. You could never predict him, you can't be certain you're even safe to be near him. Who knows?

 “Alright.” You need to get your shit together. The both of you. The three of you? That can be dealt with later. You need to take anything and everything into account. But first you must get inside the damn apartment. “Throw me down the stairs.”

 “What?”

 “Or like drop me at the door so I can crawl down or something.” You gesture to your legs that are still pretty useless.

 “Dude, I'm not doing that.”

 “How am I supposed to go inside then? I can't exactly walk down the stairs.”

 Dave ends up carrying you all the way down. That's right, bridal style, it's actually pretty cool, don't let your mind tell you otherwise. He doesn't struggle with it at all, which shouldn't be a surprise. He is literally on a whole other level than you are — with him being a godtier and you're not even a sprite anymore — What matters is that he gets the job done and in no time you are all the way down the stairs.

 He sets you down to open the door, this time he just supports you up, he walks you to the old futon placed in the middle of the main room. You are both skittish, bro is around, he could jump you at any time, and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

 You are pretty sure Dave would be able to beat your bro in a strife if he puts his mind into it, he's not as weak as you two were back then — as you are right now — but the thing is, he isn't ready for any kind of confrontation as he is.

 Putting him through that isn't something you want either way.

 Now sitting down on the futon, a long silence stretches between you two, not because you're awkward, but because you are both waiting for something. But he just isn't collaborating. He should get that there is something wrong going on by now. It's not like you're expecting him to come out of hiding, sit next to you and have a civil conversation. It would be a better way to go about this, but you know that's asking too much of him.

 “Cut that out!” Dave stands up, his fists clenched on his sides. “I don't care about your stupid mindfuck games. We just need to talk. If that's even something you know how to do-”

 You feel a weak gush of wind, coming from just ahead, as quick as you can manage you pull Dave back down by grabbing and pulling his torso close to you. You look up. An imposing figure stands in front of you, one you haven't seen in at least three years. His sword is out, even if he's not in a fighting stance, you can see the littlest bit of blood on the blade.

 You glance at Dave, still facing bro, his hand on his cheek. He pulls it off and there is blood there — his blood. — he grits his teeth and starts shaking, he looks angry, but you know that it's actually fear he's holding in.

 Bro stares at you, you can feel it, he gives you an approving nod. What is he acknowledging, your reflexes? It makes you sick to your stomach, but you don't look away. You raise an eyebrow at him, asking a question. Challenging. Actions always spoke more than words when it came to him.

 He disappears. Then he sits down, the squishy bean bag that had always been hidden away by the… smuppets. You quickly wipe the thought off your mind and check on Dave instead. He isn't shaking anymore, but he still looks down at the blood on his hand for a brief moment before looking up.

 “There's two of you.” Bro says, pointing at you. You half expected him to not speak. It has been a long while since the last time you heard his voice, even before he was killed, he barely spoke to you at all.

 Dave shows no signs that he'll speak, so you take the bullet. “Long story short, time travel.”

 “Right.” If he is impressed or unbelieving of your statement, he doesn't show. “What's with your legs.” He's asking all the important questions, you guess. He's not even questioning, he's just stating everything he says.

 “Don't work.” You don't elaborate, and neither does he ask you to.

 “You're tall.” He directs that one at Dave, and you're glad he doesn't flinch, you're sure bro wouldn't have nice things to say about it if he did.

 “I grew up.” He answers shortly. Everything about this conversation is really awkward, but you're taking it as a challenge to keep up.

 “How old.” He is still talking to Dave.

 “Sixteen.”

 Bro makes a sound, you don't know what it's supposed to mean. He slightly turns his head to you but says nothing.

 “Me too.” He raises an eyebrow at you. It's probably about the height difference you and Dave have. “It's a long story.”

 Exactly a minute ticks in your head, and it is only then that your bro speaks again, “The game?”

 “It's over. We won.” You're sure of it. Even if the circumstances are odd and the prize is… this.

 Dave mutters something that sounds like “Not thanks to you.” still staring right into bro's shades. He goes away shortly after that. Leaving you and Dave. You clench your hand to your chest and breathe heavily. Long intakes of air you didn't realize you were keeping in.

 “We're leaving.” Dave says with such venom even he is surprised. “There's no way I'm sharing a place with him for longer than necessary.

 “What, like, right now?”

 Dave hesitates. “N-no. There's nowhere to go, we need to arrange that first and then we'll leave. Maybe crash at Rose's. Find a way of transportation, and we can stay there for a while, ‘til we decide on another place so we aren't just bugging Rose in her own house, you know?”

 “You're saying ‘we’ a lot, you know?” Your voice comes out weak. “Far as I know, you could just fly your way to Rose's house, or did you lose the godtier stuff? You still got the fit, so I don't see why that would be the case.”

 “…I'm not leaving you here, dude.” He had a genuinely disturbed look on his face.

 “Oh yeah?” You don't understand why you feel so… small. Not literally.

 “Yeah? Not with him.” He says it like it's obvious. And maybe it really is.

 “Alright I guess.” You are not touched by that. You aren't. “You just signed up to carrying me around all the time. Hope you know that.”

 Dave gives you a funny look, even if he's smiling at you. “Do you think your legs just won't work ever again?”

 “I mean, I don't know. Feels like it.” You try moving your legs for what feels like the first time, but still nothing. Best you get is a twitch of your toes.

 “Can't we get one of those wheelchairs for you? Or do we have to, like, take you to a doctor first, or something.”

 You think for a moment. You don't remember the last time you've been to a hospital, but you're almost certain you need someone who isn't underage to go through most procedures and your current option is… not the greatest

 “How ‘bout we leave this for later. I got a feeling there's other shit to worry about.” It's mainly an excuse to change topics, but as you say it, the faces of your friends appear in your mind. You were too caught up in your own troubles, you forgot about them for a brief moment. “Take me to my- to your? To the bedroom. Let's go.”

 Dave shrugs and decides to go back to the bridal style. And you won't be the one to complain, it's faster anyway. As soon as you're there you'll get your hands on your computer and pester some chums. 

Chapter Text

 You can't get tackled because you are not sure what that means, so you just wait until it makes sense. In the meantime, you get to your room with Dave's help, and you look around. It hasn't been that long since you stepped foot here, back on the ship it was usual for you to ask Jade to shrink you to LOHAC's previous size so you could be by yourself. John and Jade both knew, or either didn't bother to check on you when you did that. All you did there was tidy your apartment, rearrange it, mess it up and everything over again.

 You changed the placement of so many things back then, you barely manage to recognize it as it is right now. Barely. You still have too many memories in here you will never be able to forget even if you tried. Something you never even tried, a traitorous part of you not wanting it gone, as it makes you you. And you can't allow yourself to be stripped of your identity any more than you've already been.

 Dave walks to his (and your) desk, he rolls over the chair with little wheels with his foot — you forgot you had that, it'll make your no walking little problem a bit easier — You expect him to drop you there, but instead, he is careful to sit you down on it. You were about to say something about it, an ironic remark, but looking up at his face all you see is the cut on his cheek and the amount of nerves he's holding in.

 You watch him drag boxes across the room to put in front of the door, neither of you ever held the key to it, so you could never lock it. The boxes won't do much, but they will give you more time to react if someone decides to invade the room. Give Dave more time to react, that is, it's not like you can do much on this chair. You slide the chair with you closer to the bed, carefully reaching under the two layers of it without falling off the chair, you grab up a smaller box than those Dave used to block the door, it fits in your hand.

 Again, you stride (pun intended) across the room to the door where Dave is still standing next to. Bro is near. Both you and Dave know it, and if you do it's because he's letting it happen. He wants you to know he's just around the corner, waiting, waiting for the moment to catch you with your guard down. That's what he's always done. You hand Dave the box, you don't need to tell him what's inside it, he knows, you just point to your cheek and he gets it.

 There was a considerable amount of these little boxes scattered around the room, most have band aids, but the well hidden ones have gauze and a sewing kit. For when things got really ugly. The one you gave Dave is a simple band aids one, his cut isn't deep, it is very surface level from what you've seen, and it didn't really need a band aid anyway, but you felt like doing something nice for him. He's been carrying you around for all the time you've been here, and you feel like he appreciated the gesture.

 You get back to the desk and in a swift motion you power up the computer and log straight into pesterchum. And as you see none of your chums are active, a list which consists of only John, Rose, and Jade. No offshoot troll you added for the irony of it, no teenage guardian, no nothing.

 “What do you think happened to them?” You glance to your left and Dave is there, sitting next to you on another box — why do you have so many? — and staring at the computer screen. You don't know if he's talking about your friends, the trolls, or the alpha guys, so you answer the truth to any of the cases.

 “I don't know.” Even with your sprite squared insight on the game, you never computed the afterward of a win, but from the looks of it your old world got a reset. You can't be sure about the trolls or your younger bro and his friends, but you hope they didn't cease to exist, you didn't really get to meet him, just the sprite prototyped with the copy of his brain. You hope they're both fine.

 You grab the cursor, and it catches Dave's attention. “What're you gonna do?”

 “Make a memo.”

turntechGodhead [TG] opened memo on board winners?

turntechGodhead [TG] added ectoBiologist [EB].

turntechGodhead [TG] added tentacleTherapist [TT].

turntechGodhead [TG] added gardenGnostic [GG].

TG: B33 < we gotta talk this through

 The bright red text feels unbelonging to you, just as it did those three years ago when you first left your doomed timeline, and your Rose in it. That's a bit of a sore subject to you if you're being honest with yourself.

 “What's up with that?”

 “What's up with what?”

 Dave points at your message. “Dude, are you using a typing quirk?” He sounds amused, you stare at the screen feeling a heat building up on your cheeks.

 “I didn't notice.” You really didn't, but in your defense it was just moments ago you were someone else, and they used it so.

 “Hey, Rose answered.” You snap back to yourself before you get to wander out.

TT: Yes, I think so too.

TT: This situation isn't ideal. As… promising as it might look.

TT: It feels condensing, in a way.

TG: yeah

TG: wait

TG: is your mom

TG: is she alive

TT: Yes.

TT: I assume your bro is also alive.

TT: Are you fine?

TG: yeah he didnt do much

TG: besides scaring us away nothing new here

TT: “Us” you say.

TT: Do you mean you and Davesprite?

TG: i mean

TG: youre not wrong but say it the other way around and its on point

TT: Oh. How funny of a coincidence.

TG: what do you mean

TG: and how did you know im here

TT: You see, it's simple. I am here, so by default you must have been too.

TG: i dont get it

TT: I am not… the “true” Rose. I was a sprite and then Jasprosesprite^2, now I have a renewed body with few differences from the other.

TG: holy shit

TG: i didnt even think about the other sprites

TG: sorry

TT: That is no problem, you must have been busy.

TT: Again, do say so if you get in trouble with your brother.

TT: The both of you.

TG: ill try

TG: but back to business have you heard from the other two

TG: john and jade

TG: none of you were online when i logged in

TT: John messaged me and he was far delighted to reunite with his father. He must be enjoying his day.

TG: …

 You pause for a second, memories of you joking about John's dead dad resurfacing. For those moments that John looked at you with anger, only then he saw you as your own person, his best friend surely wouldn't make such ill intended jabs. It hurt, but it was the most you could get of recognition from the guy. You never met John's father, but from what you heard he was — is — a good man, and you do feel bad about what you did.

TG: i dont want to bother him he probably doesnt even want to look at me after everything

TG: he deserves this 

TG: wait i forgot this is a memo he can see this

turntechGodhead [TG] banned ectoBiologist [EB] from responding to this memo.

 “Why'd you do that?” Dave asks you with a frown.

 “It's a long story, you don't wanna hear it.”

TG: you know what scratch this memo talk to you later rose

TG: just rose? is that fine with you or do you want to be called something else

TT: For now just Rose is okay.

TT: Take care, both Dave's.

tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased responding to memo.

turntechGodhead [TG] closed memo.

 You sigh, pushing yourself away from the desk and leaving Dave staring after you still in his place, you take off your shades and put a hand on your face. Things like this were why you were better off as Davepetasprite, they didn't weigh you down like they did before, and like they do again now.

 Something catches your eye, you look down at your hand, holding your shades, and they are… orange. Not just orange, the tips are kind of green too. Huh, you haven't noticed a change in your vision, was that what Dave meant by calling your shades funky?

 “Wow, dude.” Dave is standing closer to you, holding up the box he was on, he points at your face. “You got different colors on your eyes.”

 Do you?

 You stare at your reflection on the shades, it's distorted and tinted orange, but the bright orange on the left and green on the right of your eyes is very easy for you to notice. You slowly put your shades back on, the colors don't look that bad, maybe you're biased, but you don't mind staying with them that way.

 Dave stacks his box on another one close to your bed, then you watch the band aids one you gave him appear on his hand and in a smooth motion he puts it back on its place. He sits on the bridge of the mattress, placing his fingers close to his cheek, you notice he did put a band aid on his cut, it makes you feel a tinge of pride.

 “Thanks.” Dave says, not quite looking at you. You are quick to dismiss it, looking for something to grab and drag yourself around.

 “Don't mention it, the box is yours anyway, I just gave it to you.” You manage to grab a shelf and lead your way to the bed.

 “Not that.” He put his hand on his neck. “Well, that too, but. I was talking about you pulling me away from the slash, and helping me out on the roof.”

 You pause on your way to him. “Don't thank me for that, you got a cut anyway so I don't see why you'd thank me at all.”

 “It could've been worse.”

 “I know.” Neither of you have the scars to prove just how true that is, you both have new, unscarred bodies. But the memories are still intact.

 …

 “Are you hungry?” You snap your head up, staring at an earnest Dave. “We should eat something, right?”

 You look out the window, it isn't dark out yet, but it's not as bright as in the middle of the day. It should be around 5pm, it hasn't been that much time since you woke up. Turning back to Dave you lean in your chair and sigh. “There's nothing in the fridge, we both know that.”

 “I was thinking more of ordering something. Takeout maybe?”

 You push whatever is behind you and hit with the chair on the bed, startling Dave for a moment, you gesture with your hands to him. “Dude, look, I'm all in for the takeout, but with what money you gonna buy that?” Dave deflates at that, did he forget how things work in the real world? “See what I mean?”

 He decaptchalogues a phone, and you can't see the screen, but he quickly clicks here and there on screen until he comes to a halt. His mouth is agape and his shades slip to the bridge of his nose, revealing his widened eyes.

 “C'mon what is it don't try to scare me.” Dave turns the phone around and shoves it in your hands, adjusting his shades, he watches you closely. You narrow your eyes at him before looking at the screen. His bank account is open for you to see, and the obscene number of zeroes on the money section leaves you in the same state as him. “No way.”

 “We can buy all the takeout we want with that.”

 “We can buy *houses* with that. How- What is this from?” You hand his phone back to him.

 “I don't know, maybe it's because we won the game? It's our actual prize bro. The real thing.”

 “Sure.” You don't know what to make of this. Could this really be the game's doing? It was the most plausible answer, and that really says something about your life right now.

 You hear a familiar sound coming from the window, you turn your back to Dave and stare at the thing that made the sound, the crow. That same crow, staring at you, with its shiny orange eyes, it caws at you again, and you feel anger bubbling up inside of you. Why is it still here? It died here, you killed it. Does it feel bound to you, now different from its peers, no longer the same, its only sense of normality being to stay in the place it spent all its life on?

 This dumb bird.

 “We can get out of here right now with all this money.”

 You pause, turning around to face Dave again, he looks so eager. Was that how you should be feeling? Don't get you wrong, you hate this apartment just as much as the next guy, but something deep inside of you. Doesn't want to leave right away.

 “How about that food first?”

 You're the dumb bird. It's you.