Disclaimers: Homestuck is obviously not mine, and I make no money from it. If it were mine, DirkJake would already be canon, and most of the trolls would still be alive.

Warnings: John angsting.

Chapter 1: A Realization

It had been far too long since Dave Strider had seen John Egbert smile.

It seemed that John's slow emotional decline had started not long after they had all returned home at the conclusion of the game, and at first it was hard for the others to notice. The teen still told his terrible, awful, unfunny jokes. He still hated the smell of baking and watched his terrible movies and pulled those goofy grins with those equally goofy buck teeth, the ones he had never quite grown out of, no matter how much his jaw had reshaped with age. He even persisted in his habit of pulling pranks on his friends when he could, but even Dave could tell that the brunette's heart wasn't really in it. Every week seemed to take a little more effort to get a laugh out of him, and each day that the friends spent together led to a goodbye wave and a smile that was just a little less genuine. They all brushed it off at first; John was probably just calming down, "growing up", as they all must.

As John's emotional state continued to worsen with time, they all became less convinced. They had all done a great deal of growing up in the game, and never before had John looked so constantly tired, or so utterly sad. Something was terribly wrong with Egbert, eating away at the happy youth little by little, and scariest of all was that none of his friends could figure out why.

The day that Dave first caught on that something was really wrong was the day the group celebrated the Heir's 17th birthday. His friends were all with him, as they had been spending more and more time together in person since the conclusion of the (wonderful, awful, exciting, excruciating) game, and for once none of them were too busy or far away to make the trip. It was a somewhat unspoken rule among them that they would meet up on John's birthday in particular, as a secondary anniversary of sorts. "Game Day" they called it, a morbidly fond memorial of diving into hell and all they had gained and lost through doing so. The birthday party had gone mostly as expected; John received a multitude of shitty new Cage flicks from Jade, a copy of "Twilight: The Movie" as an ironic selection from Dave "to add to the overall shittiness of your collection", and a well-worn paperback copy of Charlotte's Web from Rose. (They all pointedly pretended not to notice how John's eyes grow damp as he read the title of the book, giving him a tiny moment of silence. Yet another day to remember.) John managed to thank them all for the gifts, shooting Rose a meaningful, watery smile before resuming his default (fake) cheerfulness. Seizing hold of "Ghost Rider" and the DVD remote, John managed a large grin, holding up his spoils victoriously.

"Anybody want popcorn?"

As usual, after small grumblings of protest, John popped them all an outrageously large bowl of the fluffy snack and whined pitifully at them until the others would sit still and enjoy the disgusting display of Nic Cage's motorcycle-riding manliness. (They all saw this coming, and for John's sake, none of them had really planned to resist that much.)

It was only after they had watched all of the terrible movies (in a row, per John's request) and the girls had both fallen asleep on the couch that Dave noticed just how off-kilter the other boy was really acting. John wasn't smiling anymore, not even a fake one at this point, and he stared blankly at the credits rolling across the blackened screen. Usually, even those made him enthusiastic, as he got to see the name "Nicholas Cage" in the cast listing even once more. This uncharacteristic blankness unsettled Dave. That look in Egbert's eyes was upsetting him, for reasons he couldn't name. Even from behind the blur of his shades, the only word Dave could think of to describe them was "lost", and it was a look the blonde was catching in John's eyes more and more often as time progressed. (When's the last time you heard him really laugh, Strider?) Such a painful expression didn't suit the normally happy Heir, and Dave wanted it to stop. Leaving his seat, Dave stepped cautiously toward the brunette, unsure if talking to him right now would be a good idea or a terrible one, but he decided to take the risk. John deserved at least that much, after putting up with Dave's shit for so long.

"…Hey, man. Are you okay?"

John's head snapped up at the quiet voice, startling Dave as those intense blue (sapphire, burning) eyes met his own through two separate pairs of lenses. Seeming then to come to his senses, John slumped back slightly, face growing apologetic at Dave's flinch.

"Sorry, I just… I guess you scared me." He muttered, exhaling with a huff as his new grin - fake fake fake - became sheepish. "I, uh, wow. The movie's over. When did that happen? Heheh." Dave raised a skeptical eyebrow at this, unwilling to believe that Egbert had been tuning out even a minute of his favorite actor being famously shitty on the silver screen.

"Are you really all right, dude? You seemed out of it." He muttered back, voice not quite as deadpan as before. For one thing, he didn't want to wake the girls. He suspected that John would go right back to "normal" if they were awake, which brought about his second line of reasoning. Seeing how John was behaving now, how drained and tired he looked and how different it was from his usual dorky self, Dave was becoming legitimately concerned. It was like John had just dropped an act as soon as he had found a moment alone, and right now he was just too exhausted to pick it back up at full strength. Sending what was likely a forced smile his way, John attempted a laugh. It sounded sad, and it broke Dave's heart a little.

"Nah, Dave. I'm fine and dandy. I was just zoning out for a minute." A pause, and then the look in John's eyes sharpened to a hard point for one clear, brilliant second before his expression twisted back into a wry smile and the tired daze returned. "I was just thinking."

Nodding in acknowledgment and choosing not to press the issue, Dave returned to his chosen recliner for the night and settled in, ignoring the uncomfortable twisting in his gut and desperately pretending that it wasn't worry he was feeling.

For there, settled in the dark depths of John's eyes had been pure, wordless pain.

Author's Note: This is actually my first fic! (Of course, it had to be Homestuck.) I'm unsure if I should continue it or not, depending on the feedback. What do you guys think? Should I churn out the rest, or drop it here? It'll likely be quite a few chapters.