Twenty-two year old Dave Strider sat at the bar of his brother's nightclub, sipping his fifth beer.

His day had been obscenely uncomfortable and horribly boring. His girlfriend, Jade Harley, had a robotics seminar that lasted all day, which meant that Dave was alone in their apartment. He watched TV for a little while, but that did nothing to ease his boredom. He decided to go next door to check out what his sister Rose and his best friend John were up to.

As soon as Dave entered the apartment, he regretted opening his eyes. There on the couch was his best friend, lying on top of his sister. A blanket was covering them, but judging by the noises they were making; it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were doing.

Dave made a small dying noise in his throat, which alerted the couple's attention. They startled, draping the blankets over their bodies and cussing at Dave, asking him if he had the common decency to knock. Dave desperately wished he could bleach his brain to get rid of the memory.

He sat at the barstool, and sighed into his drink. Another horribly disappointing day.

A commotion erupted in the corner of the club, the sounds hitting Dave's ears and piquing his attention slightly. He turned back to his drink, ignoring it. Fights often broke out in his brother's nightclub, and many of the usual visitors often chose to ignore them.

He took another gulp of his beer, sighing as he sat there, bored out of his mind. He looked around the club again and noticed a man in a dark trench coat staring at him with a hateful expression. He nodded at the dude, and looked back at his drink. Creeps like that weren't uncommon around here.

The commotion grew louder, piquing the young Strider's attention. He looked over to see a group of men harassing a girl around his age. She had large eyes, and a tiny demeanor, and she was cowering as a group of men leered at her, smacking her rear end as she passed. One of them grabbed her and roughly planted his lips on hers. When he pushed her away, her lower lip was bleeding.

Dave got up and wiped his mouth, his vision slightly wavering as his alcohol imbued body adjusted to the vertical shift. He couldn't watch this shit any longer. He walked over to the group of men, who were now emitting wolf whistles. The poor girl looked as if she was going to faint at any moment from fear. Dave reached where they were standing.

"Hey, lay off her you assholes. Don't you have anything better to do?"

One of the men glared at him. He looked a few years older than Dave, with glinting coppery hair. His tight black shirt had a symbol of a spade on it. A scar stretched down his face, completing his menacing persona.

"What's it to you kid?" he said with a sneer decorating his expression. Dave stepped closer to that man.

"I'll tell you what it has to do with me. This is my brother's fucking nightclub. If you cause trouble here, you can bet your sorry ass you won't be forgiven," he said, his face contorted into a menacing expression. The copper haired man's eyes narrowed menacingly as he stared at Dave's red eyes, which were invisible through his glasses. Suddenly, Dave was lifted off his feet, and before he could process what was happening, he was flung against the wall, the wind knocked out of him. He struggled to draw in a breath, his lungs burning and his mind reeling from the sudden shock. A tall burly man with a small heart on his shirt grabbed his collar, and pinned him to the wall, feet dangling below him. Dave struggled to get free, his back aching where he had collided.

"We don't want no trouble kid. If I were you, I would back off and let us get on with our fucking business," he said, his acrid breath washing over Strider's face, causing him to gag.

Then, as suddenly as the man had pinned him, he let go, giving off a little 'oomph' noise before falling backwards. Dave glanced up, smirking slightly as he realized who was there.

"Bout time you showed up Bro," he said, dusting his pants off and coughing slightly. Twenty-five year old Dirk Strider simply nodded at his little brother, before turning to the group of men.

"Would you fine fucking gentlemen mind telling me why you were assaulting my brother?" he hissed at them. The tallest one of the four men stepped forward.

"That aint any of your concern Strider, mind yer own damn business," he said. The pale diamond on his shirt stood out almost as much as his shock of bleached white hair. Dirk's eyes narrowed.

"It's all of my damn concern Droog, get the hell out of my nightclub," he said, his voice rising, while he glared daggers at them. The man with the scar flipped him off, and walked towards the exit, his hands in his pockets. The tall one sneered at Dirk as he passed.

"This ain't fucking done Strider," he said, spitting on the ground as he passed. Dirk's body was ramrod stiff, and he was clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles were white. Dave placed a hand on his brother's shoulder to steady himself. The booze was really starting to take its effect, and Dave was a lightweight when it came to alcohol.

"I….think I'm going to head home bro," he said, pulling off his shades to blink his eyes a bit. His brother looked at him with a concerned expression, and then back at the door.

"Assholes," he said, muttering as he walked back to the bar to talk to their barista, Roxy Lalonde, who was Rose's cousin and Dirk's childhood friend. She grinned at him slightly, before gliding off to the other side of the bar to take someone's order.

Dave grabbed his leather jacket, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out of the doors. The night was cool, the breeze biting at Dave's skin slightly, waking him up. He started walking down the deserted streets the the apartment he and Jade shared, which was about ten blocks from the nightclub.

There were scarcely any people around at this time of night. Dave looked down at his watch, cursing as 1:00 AM glared up at him. He was supposed to be home three hours ago, when Jade came back from her seminar. He groaned as he imagined how pissed she would be.

He stumbled slightly as he made his way down the street, his vision blurring slightly and his senses inhibited by the amount of alcohol he consumed. He was in front of the apartment building when he heard footsteps behind him.

He turned around slowly, wondering who the hell would be up at this time. He was greeted by a man in a bright green hoodie, who had a psychotic snarl on his face.

Dave immediately tensed up, his battle senses kicking in. Suddenly, he was surrounded by green hooded men. Each had a number ranging from 1-15 on the top of his hoodie.

"You should've messed with Spades Slick kid. Dear old Dirky already pissed him off past recognition years ago. Do you have any idea how much Slick paid us to get rid of you?" said the man with the number three on his hoodie.

"An ironically ridiculous fucking amount I suppose," Dave retorted, his face utterly serene. Number two snarled at him.

"Sorry kid, but money is money, and Slick ain't a forgivin man,"

Dave barely had time to flinch before a metal pipe struck the bottom of his ribs, causing him to gasp as blood bubbled up to his lips.

A figure came up behind him, and Dave ducked out of the way just as he threw a punch with his brass knuckles. His senses were going into overdrive, his blood pumping and adrenaline fueling his every step.

He dodged and flash stepped, throwing punches and dodging hits. Never before has Dave wanted his Katana in his possession so badly.

He had managed to knock out three of the hooded men before a sharp pain in his side drove him to his knees. He looked down a found a sharp dagger sticking out of his torso. He pulled it out, and the wound started gushing blood.

Another sharp pain hit him as someone kicked him in the gut. He cried out in pain, his body lurching to the ground, his aviators falling off his face and onto the pavement. Waves of agony wracked his body as the rest of the hooded men assaulted him, kicking him and beating him. The one with the brash knuckles punched him in the nose, breaking it and drawing blood. One of Dave's ribs cracked as 15 kicked him in the chest.

He heard someone yelling, but it seemed muffled, as if it were far away. Blood stained his shirt, making the red even darker than before.

Suddenly, the assault stops. Dave looks up at 1, his eyes half closed and on the brink of unconsciousness. Pain racked his body, making him wince.

1 held his gun pointed down at Dave, the psychotic smile decorating his face once more.

"It was nice knowing ya Strider. I would love to stay and look at the expression on your dear brother's face when he finds your cold dead body on the sidewalk, but sadly I have other tasks to complete," he sneered. His finger pulls back the trigger and a shot echoes around the block.

The bullet enters Dave's body and the last thing he hears before slipping into unconsciousness is Rose's and John's panicked shouts and Jade's bloodcurdling scream.


First Homestuck fanfiction! Woot! Up to this point, all I've written are hunger games fanfictions.

I'll post up the next chapter to this as soon as I can. It includes a lot of Dave/Jade. One can never have too much Dave/Jade, it is simply not possible.

It is also my OTP

REVIEW and tell me what you think!

~Reaper