Takes place after the fanfiction "Nicotine" and the side fanfiction (that isn't directly apart of the timeline), "Teeth".
Dirk Strider has defied the high powers that have sought out to end his life. They kidnapped him, burnt him, threw him in prison, took away everything he loved, and then did it all over again until there wasn't an inch of him that they didn't shatter. After escaping the wrongful imprisonment for the murder of Nathanial Morris, he is now finally... a free man.
But who knew free would be so problematic. Though he survived, he's still trying to put his life back together and he only knows how by pushing the people he loves away now he won't drag them down with him. He's utterly convinced himself that he's better off alone, away from the war he knows that is soon coming, and unwilling to cause anymore anguish that he's sure will come in his wake. The nightmares keep coming though, and he's forced to pay a visit to the woman known as the Handmaiden to find out where his destiny truly lies. In this reality to die as a coward, or the Game's to die as a hero.
Read the third and possibly final installment of the "Burn My Lungs & Curse My Eyes" series. If you want quicker updates, look up CassanderRoshack on AO3.
It was happening again. The cold settled over him as he felt his lungs slowly still in their rapid movements. It felt like someone had poured ice water down his throat and it slowly froze him from the inside out. He felt himself falling backwards through thick black nothingness, as if taken from his very bed to explore this darkened world. Whatever he was sinking into felt almost like oil with its inky black texture and thickness; the substance stopped him from breathing completely. Soon he stopped slowly sinking and hovered over the ground in a reclined position.
He could feel his heart slowing as his orange eyes open, eyelashes making ripples as they lifted for him to see. Out of the blackness he saw images flickering around him, like thousands of televisions coming to life but without the actual televisions, just screens flickering into existence. His head barely moved as he looked at each. Soon they all formed into one and he was staring into a future that he felt he knew, but had not lived yet. His throat was raw as he opened his mouth, staring eyes widening as the ache in his chest to breathe became more and more apparent.
He saw an older version himself rising from the flames of a burning building, and slicing a meteor in half to break it away from destroying the apartment he'd grown up in. He saw Roxy punching down so hard it smashed a monster with jeweled eyes into pieces. A much older version of Jake's granddaughter Jane fighting the Condense herself before dying, John's father flicking a match onto a beast for it to erupt in flames, his brother slicing two men's heads off, Rose stabbing someone's eyes out with needles.
Dirk Strider saw himself and his friend's fall, only to rise again in their god tiers to land on a platform with hundreds of others. They turned slowly to look at a hulking green creature, whose maw opened to charge up a ray that his orange eyes reflected the last moments of his life. He tried to put his arm up to defend himself, but he was too slow. Feeling that raw burn throughout his body that gagged him and set the oil he was swimming in aflame immediately afterward. He turned his face away to see a woman standing not six feet from him. Her long Chinese dress fluttered in the blast and her elderly face looked displeased at him, white hair hanging down in tendrils as her red eyes bore holes into his soul. She too was enveloped and destroyed in the light.
~~~
He jerked awake, coughing at the weight in his chest. His arm had shot out to the bedside table to support himself from falling off his bed completely. Dirk blinked rapidly, feeling the sting in his skin even though the dream was over. He pushed himself away from the surface to sit up completely. A full moment of breathing in and out relaxed him enough to run his fingers through his hair to brush it back out of his eyes. Dirk let out another sigh, shaking him to try to rid himself of the imaginary sting on his skin. Or at least, he had demanded his mind to recognize them as imaginary.
His hair needed to be cut again and as soon as he pushed it back it flipped in front of his face, much to his distaste. His eyes flickered over to the space where Jake usually kept him from rolling completely off the bed at night. Another deep sigh was dragged from his lips as his hands to brush over it to find it cold. Jake wasn't beside him last night because of some late television show meeting about the discussion of social justice in today's age and clearly he hadn't found his way back into bed yet. He had learned to expect that recently, Jake rarely made it home before dawn. And even then, he rarely slept in his bed anymore. If he did, he usually was called away for something dire and promised to be back soon. He never was.
Dirk fell back into bed for a moment, letting out a huff of breath before looking up at the orange digit colored clock. He nearly snarled at the time before getting up to go to the bathroom connected to his bedroom.
After the game, they washed up on a beach somewhere in Florida, confused out of their minds but happy to be alive- not to mention together. They had beaten the Game after several years; being almost into their early twenties by that point. In the end, they had been asked what their heart desired and were offered one wish each. At that point, they were all so emotionally and physically attached to each other that they asked for a perfect world that they would live together with their memories. It had gone black for them and when they woke up, they simply sat on the beach in tears, holding onto each other as the sun rose. Dirk had suggested Texas. It had something for each of them and they had even found an apartment similar to the blonde's old residence after a grueling process of making fake IDs. They had rented the entire floor which included four apartments, put a lock on the lift, and started odd jobs to keep the rent and utilities up. Dirk reminded himself, at the thought of utilities; that he needed to pay for his along with pick up some hair gel. His tongue clicked angrily looking at the near empty container in his medicine cabinet. Clearly the part about the 'perfect world' had gotten fucked up in the end too, since now they had the huge problem of the Game bleeding into their reality.
He glanced at the mirror and ran a hand through his hair again. It normally stayed in his usual style, but having it grow out so often made it lose its shape. Dirk made another mental note to steal Jane for a haircut, grabbing his comb and what remained of his hair gel to get it some sort of livable state. A quick use of the bathroom and he was out into the main room, looking around at the piles of tools he'd left to sit. It was quiet in his apartment for this early in the morning; which he preferred.
The front door was shut, more often locked now days than any of his friends would have liked. The windows were drawn and sown shut tightly as he flicked on the stereo to blast whatever he had left the CD on the night before. Sure, he was a lot more technologically advanced than CDs at this point in his life, but for some reason ten thousand songs didn't replace the weight of a hundred CDs. It was like they were made more real by their actual mass instead of the actual things they contained. Heavy dubstep poured from the speakers, relatively blocking out any of the street sounds that managed to reach the apartment this far skyward.
He sat down in his living room that since his return, had pretty much been completely remade into a work shop. The television mounted to the wall was still there, but the couch and table had been pushed to the far side of the room. The carpet rolled up and stuffed into the corner beside it. The only reason why it wasn't in the closet was because that was pretty much bursting at the seams already with junk he didn't use around the apartment. What could he say, he horded things. Mostly parts or anything he planned on fixing or making into other things. Often than meant they were going to get forgotten about until Jane demanded him to clean and then he spent the entire day acting like it was Christmas… or at least that used to happen. Jane no longer entered his apartment without his permission, Jake even knocked now. Though thankfully, Roxy still barged her way in.
Dirk hadn't even bothered to put anything on beside his black boxer shorts that were rather snug. The music deafened him and in the lowlight he could see every part on his desk laid out with careful thought. His hand brushed along them for a moment before he picked up the smallest screwdriver to twirl between his long pale fingers. He had lost his tan since six months ago. It had nearly been gone by week six. Dirk nearly smiled, looking at the scarred skin of his hand as it continued to twirl the metal between his fingers. For someone from Texas, he never held a tan worth a damn. He'd simply burn until his skin looked dark enough to be called a decent tan. He pulled his newest project toward him and started to tighten the bolts inside of it. In all honesty, he wasn't exactly sure what it was going to be yet. It was simply a core to operate whatever he wanted. It would provide power, though for what hadn't been decided. Dirk wondered if that was bad planning on his part. If he made it too large, it would blow the circuits on whatever he put it into. If it was too small, it would burn itself out. He sighed, flicking it with his finger in distaste and a part fell off.
He could almost hear Jake from where he usually took up residence on the couch, usually with a book or newspaper. The smells of tea and spice body wash radiating from him. Jake would often peek over the edge of the paper and stare at him before saying something profound like, 'the artist is always his worst critic' and then get up to make him something to drink or eat. Dirk finally did smile at that. That was something that all of his friends had gotten into the habit of doing; making sure he ate and slept. It was like they were worried that he would just lean against something and stand forgotten until the world ended. He glanced at the clock again and tapped his fingers. It was early in the morning, and Jake would be driving home by this point if he kept to his chaotic schedule. Dirk got paced the room, thinking for a moment, before sitting back down. He was going stir crazy in this apartment that he hadn't left more than maybe five times since six months ago.
It had been a fortunate turn of events when he had finally made it home after the prison. He had tried to wash its existence out of his mind forever. Along with everything he had learned in that place. When he had returned home, he had been greeted with open arms and a handful of medication that made him nearly black out as soon as he took them. The medicine wasn't pushed by any of his friends, but by the doctors that examined him now he could make an official return to the living. Dirk had dealt with psychologist after psychologist before they told him everything that he already knew. He was lucky to be alive, was in a severe depression, that he had people to talk to… blah, blah, blahhh. He thought the last part to himself before snorting. But they had offered him medication; things that made the hallucinations stop all together. Made the loudest of rooms so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Jake didn't care for them, saying that they made Dirk like a zombie or completely emotionless.
Of course, Dirk's response had been something along the lines of 'deal with it'. He winced at his own crassness even though it had been several months that he had actually snapped at him and he had been clearly under a lot of stress. All of his friends had noticed the new and lack of attributes to his physical and mental side. The new tattoos and piercings he had gotten from the once troll Gamzee, now human Gabriel (who they still hadn't found in the rubble of the prison), inspired awe. And just like their counterparts of lacking attributes; weight became a concern of all the doctors he saw and to his friends. Even in the six months since his late night return, he hadn't seemed to gain much body fat back. His gauntness didn't show anywhere besides his chest and face. Even then, it didn't seem to bother him all that much since he had the same amount of stamina as the rest of his friends did and ate normal meals.
But Dirk could see the lines on Jake's face when they would lie together and his fingers would ghost over the digits of ribs he could count in the blonds skin. It seemed like he did nothing but worry him now days. Dirk breathed out a slow sigh and reached inside his desk drawer to pull up the false bottom for the pack of cigarettes he had hidden there. That was another attribute, but not one of them seemed to like. He took out a drag as soon as he lit it, letting the sweet smelling smoke curl in the air around him. Jake definitely didn't like him smoking, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Besides, most of the time he let the stick turn into a long cylinder of ash before he would do anything about it.
All of his friends seemed to have a different way of dealing with him and his not exactly new personality too. He had taken things with him from the prison. The stand-off-ish attitude as Jane would have called it. Jake seemed to voice his opinion but then let it go unspoken thereafter, Roxy seemed to appease him the most, and Jane was constantly telling him to shape up. Which, much to his own dislike, he immediately bristled at and told her to step-off. It wasn't like he wanted to start a fight with her. It was just… normal, and staying inside the house made it even worse after a while. Yet he wouldn't leave. He took another drag and let it calm his nerves, listening to the base drop hard enough to shake the screws on his table. It would switch to 'cool down' song in a bit, and he leaned his head back to listen to the glass shaking music. It drowned the own pounding in his head that he still had since he had gotten up. The nightmares had never gone away, regardless of how much medicine he took or how tired he was before he went to bed. When the nightmares came, they came in full force and they were angry and howling like a demon of the night.
Jake had woken him up many times at this point, caught in the act of clawing at his own skin or sobbing as images of his past, present and future tore through his sanity. Dirk leaned forward and put his face in his hands. It wasn't fair. He had made the decision when he returned home to stay out of the war. Dirk had barely made it out of the prison alive. Whatever war he thought he was fit to play a part while he was in prison, clearly told him he was a fool now that he was out of that environment. He had been off his medication and god only knew what he could have done if he had actually started to wage war against the empress.
The name brought his thoughts to a halt. When had he stopped considering her Fish Hitler and called her by her title empress? He couldn't remember. Perhaps it was because he finally realized her as a threat, maybe it was because he respected her, or maybe it was because he actually feared her like he never had during the Game. She was just another obstacle in the Game. Another boss to beat, another bad guy to destroy… it never settled on him until much later how much distraction she had caused. The blond swallowed then let out took yet another drag. He might need two cigarettes with this train of thought. The nightmares were making him nervous… His eyes seemed to drag themselves to the piece of paper with the address written on it that Kar had given him. It was still stuck to the refrigerator and had been with several pictures and ironic comic book cutouts that Roxy had found for him.
No, he wouldn't be going and getting himself mixed up in that bag of cats. He purposefully looked away, not answering his question to himself why he hadn't bothered to throw it away yet then. Jake had asked about it once, but after a smooth lie about it being a great take-out restaurant he heard about, hadn't asked again. It bothered him how well he lied now, but found it more of an advantage than a downfall. Jake only knew what couldn't hurt him, and that was the best kind of relationship at this point. Their relationship had gone back to what it was, except there was a lot less talking, kissing, sex, working together… video games… spending time together… Dirk ran his hand through his hair again, choosing the next cigarette with a frown. Okay, they didn't have much a relationship at all at this point. They ate together, rarely slept together, rarely kissed, said goodbyes and 'I love yous'… wasn't that what relationships were about? He couldn't remember that either.
He snapped the match between his fingers when he finished lighting it, then shook his head. "Stop thinking about that, you're only going to give yourself a worse headache." Dirk told himself as the song switched over to the softer music and he let the background noise that had become a buzz in his head fade. He hated the quiet that now overlaid the apartments.
Because of him, all of his friends had had to find alternate jobs to pay the bills. Lawyers, medical treatment, court fees, and so much more were all stupidly expensive. Jake ran his own campaign, becoming some sort of civil rights activist that sometimes got paid to be on television while moonlighting as police department help. Some sort of rent-a-cop or book keeper. Dirk hadn't really ever asked about it in much detail, already feeling bad enough they had to take jobs; he supposed asking questions made it feel more real, like the CDs when one acknowledged their presence.
Roxy had started to work as a nurse, getting her degree had been a cake-walk and had nearly finished four years of work in a mere few months. The blond had never doubted his technically biological sister in the slightest, but it was still impressive.
Jane meanwhile, had started to work at a library at a school. None of the jobs really made that good of money, but at least they were something. And when he had tried to explain how he felt about it, he was unceremoniously shot down. Dirk still had money to help pay for bills, but they had insisted on him taking care of himself.
Which for some reason it bothered him just for them to say that and dismiss it. Though for the life of him he didn't know why. He knew that honesty was the best policy, or supposedly it was. But he felt that he was honest with himself enough for the lot of them. Dirk knew more about himself at this point than he cared to know and didn't want to let anyone else see that perpetual hell he'd forced himself into. The blond didn't really know what to do, or what to say; besides exist for the time being. Jenna had asked him to live for two, but the longer he stayed inside the apartment- because it was away from anyone he could hurt or drag into the hell he knew was coming- the more he realized what kind of existence this all actually was.
He mentally told himself to be quiet and moved toward his desk to pick up his sunglasses, slipping them on over his nose. They seemed odd on his face since he'd gotten home. Not having worn them in almost… He paused, thinking about the number in his mind. It had nearly been two years since he was kidnapped. Dirk immediately dismissed it, having an image of Nathanial's face pop into his head. He went toward the kitchen, making himself a single piece of toast and a glass of orange juice. He ended up going to the window, pulling back a single piece that wasn't sown shut tightly to another to stare out over the city. The sun had just peeked over the sky scrapers and he glanced back at the number on the refrigerator. This really was starting to be quite the shitty excuse for an existence.