A/N: This can be thought of as a "two-ish-years-earlier" prequel to Cultural Exchange. Orange and I are on some crazy quest to fill in the blanks for the whole three year afterlife road trip.
Orange is my co-author on this one. She did the companion piece to this (which is, on sites that allow multiple chapters, the other chapter). Unfortunately, FFN doesn't let us do co-authors or even do links, and while she's used number 2696404 on here, her Homestuck stuff is only on AO3. The short version: if you want the Karkat POV on this fic, go to AO3 series 45189 or to Tumblr url meteorshenanigans. Honestly I recommend doing so anyway because pesterlogs are so ugly on anywhere else.
A couple quick warnings of very seriousness about this:
-be careful around those metaphors, they will get away from you fast
-This is meant to happen about a month after the events of Penis Ouija; if you don't know what that means, this is kind of spoilers for you
-It also assumes Penis Ouija, and in fact all the meteor-relevant parts of A6I2, happened around 4 months in as opposed to the year in they did in canon. This was done for various reasons. If this kind of canon-muddling makes you uncomfortable, just mentally add 250 days to Dave's count.
-Implied Daverezi and Rosemary. They aren't the focus but they're discussed.
-Dave is kind of a homophobic dumbass during a lot of this, in that stupid 13-year-old "not actually homophobic but I don't want it happening to me" Xbox Live sort of way. I feel like this is entirely in character for him, but basically I'm warning for homophobic language
-Possible anxiety warning too because frankly everyone in this has cabin fever and is starting to go haywire
I think that about covers it. You've probably skipped this whole note anyway, as is wise. Go forth and be Dave.
Dave: Get your sulk on
Being an amateur DJ has always meant you had a pretty decent sense of time. The sense was honed further because it was a necessary survival skill around your Bro - showers invariably lasted somewhere between an hour and an hour, twenty minutes, and that was literally all of the "guard down" time you could rely on in an average week.
Being a god tier Hero of Time had taken that already sharpened sense and ground it down to something that would have to be measured in micrometers or fractions of a hair's width or some other pseudo-scientific jargon.
The point is, no matter how badly you don't want to be, you're keenly aware that you've been stuck on this meteor for 138 days, 17 hours, 41 minutes, and seconds that you won't let yourself count because you refuse to walk in time to them and fucking hell you're doing it again. When you're in your room, or hanging out in the common room with the others, you can just put on your headphones and not worry about this shit. You have entire playlists of songs with variable or at least non-divisible-by-seconds tempos, and until you figure out how to turn off the clock in your head at will, those are your distraction.
But that shit's not safe in the hallways. You learned that within the first week, when your headphones were in too tightly for you to hear the bike horns that nearly signalled your doom. Karkat tried to assure you that Gamzee wasn't actually a threat, and that him appearing in your path and staring you down for an uncanny amount of time was merely his way of saying hello, but you know for a fact he's responsible for at least half the death count on this meteor, and by now even Karkat seems scared of him when he's outside of arm's reach. So no one wears headphones when they're alone, and everyone's got extra bars over the air vents in their rooms now.
You don't feel like being that guy to say that you doubt the bars will stop him, because you're not that much of a pussy. You are, however, just enough of a pussy to not feel like being alone in the common room, so when you found it empty nine minutes ago you immediately backtracked and headed for the next most likely place to find company on this little piece of hell; Can Town.
You feel like you hear a honking sound as you get off the transportalizer. You freeze for a few seconds, listening carefully, but there's no other sound, not even an echo, so you figure it must have been a cross between the woosh of your arrival and your mind playing tricks on you. A quick adjustment to your sunglasses, including a glance at your chumRoll - everyone on the meteor is on, and every one of them's idle, big surprise there - and you continue off down the hall.
You really, really hope Rose isn't there. It's not that you have a problem with your sister, other than how fucking weird it still is to call her that, even if she's adjusted to it as well as you expected her to adjust to have another reason to be condescending towards you. It's that you're avoiding her girlfriend right now, and have been for the last 23 days. At least, to the extent it's possible to avoid someone in this facility, without living in the air ducts.
The short version of that story is that getting your blood sucked by a vampire, well, sucks. About 500 times more than you expected it to. As in, "oh fuck that stings" versus "dropped in a volcano" levels of suck. And now any reminder of it, even the small marks on Rose's neck, give you the fucking creeps.
As luck would have it, you hear Terezi's voice coming from Can Town. You've still not figured out where the phrase "alien girlfriend" ranks on your weirdness meter, but given all the other shit that's gone down since John's birthday, right now you find it comfortingly normal. At the very least, it's well below "ectosister" and "ectosister's vampire alien girlfriend" (nevermind that they'd both deny that title vehemently) on the scale, and that's the relevant part right now. Forget music, an afternoon of dicking around with Terezi and the Mayor in Can Town sounds like just what the doctor ordered.
TEREZI: 1TS TRU3 TH4T C4NTOWN 1S 3XP3R13NC1NG R3CORD LOW CR1M3 R4T3S
TEREZI: BUT TH4T 1S 3X4CTLY WHY NOW 1S TH3 P3RF3CT T1M3 TO BU1LD 4 N3W COURTHOUS3
TEREZI: CR1M1N4LS W1LL NO LONG3R B3 D3T3R3D 1F TH3Y B3L13V3 TH3 L4W 1S GROW1NG COMPL4C3NT
TEREZI: W3 MUST R3M41N V1G1L4NT :]
DAVE: sup tz hows-
DAVE: shit
Upon rounding the corner, you're greeted by the sight of Terezi drawing on one of the more oft-recycled spaces of wall, doodling the bars of a jail cell. That part is far from unusual. In fact, you're pretty sure she drew a jail cell there yesterday, though it might have been last week, and yesterday might have been the gladiator pit.
The unusual part, the part that makes you 180 on your toes so fast that your vans squeak and abscond the fuck out of there before anyone has a chance to notice you're there, is Kanaya's part in the scene. She's on her knees behind Terezi, eyes closed in concentration, teeth sunk into the side of the teal blood's neck. Having breakfast. Probably enjoying it, because she's mentioned before that Terezi is a nice respite from the red of the rest of them. And your girlfriend, because she's your girlfriend and she's obsessed with blood and colors anyway and because she has an insane talent for being insanely casual about literally everything in the universe, is just chatting away like someone isn't literally draining a quarter of her blood from her body.
A month ago, you would have found the scene hilarious. If memory serves you right, you did. Terezi's nonchalance about fucking everything never ceases to amuse you, now that it's stopped creeping you out. Only problem is, this specific thing has looped back around to creeping you out, and you can feel the bile rising in your throat at the memory of the blood being vacuumed out of your carotid.
You swallow, barely managing to keep the disgust off your face. Taking your chances with your headphones in your room sounds like a good plan suddenly. It's not like you'll stay dead if Gamzee does get you.
But it's that or go talk to Rose about this, and you know damn well she'll just psychoanalyze why you're so grossed out instead of just asking Kanaya not to snack in your presence.
You wonder if Rose realizes that thinking of being eaten from the inside out as "quality time" with her girlfriend is the thing that really needs to be psychoanalyzed around here.
You don't get to think about it for very long though, because halfway to the stairs you hear that noise, the prelude to fear, the one thing that challenges both the distinctive creak of Bro's door hinges and the sound endermen make for the title of most fucking terrifying sound in the universe. If someone had told you six months ago that bike horns - fucking bike horns - of all things would make your pulse quicken before September, you would have laughed in their face. And yet here you are, staring into the darkness of the staircase, frozen to the floor in response to a pair of squeaky honks.
You could turn back. There's actually a pretty good chance you can reach Can Town before taking a bowling pin to the back of the skull.
But then you hear footsteps behind you, and even while you're looking for an exit you're opening up a pesterchum window to tell Rose's away message where to find your body so that Gamzee only gets to kill you once today. By some small stroke of luck, the floor's bathroom is within absconding distance, and so you do the logical thing and get the fuck in there before the noises get closer and you need a change of pants.
HONK
DAVE: jegus fucking christ
The door slams shut behind you with all the subtlety that bathroom doors are known for. You don't care, because you're leaving Rose that message because nothing you can do right now will do anything except delay the inevitable. It doesn't help that you've cleverly neglected to captchalogue anything barricade-worthy.
It's like all of Bro's lessons have gone on permanent vacation from your head. Zombie apocalypse training is exactly the right set of skills to have in this situation, and you aren't even trying. The best you can do is duck into one of the stalls, lock it, and crouch up on the seat so it doesn't look like anyone's in there, even though there's no reason the stall would be locked to begin with if you weren't in there.
You let 48 seconds pass before you assume the bathroom door isn't going to fly open heralding your doom. Your menacing crouch-squat degrades into a sulking crouch-squat as you decide this is as good a place as any to get the bitching out of your system before you rejoin the living. Maybe if you stall long enough Kanaya'll be done with lunch before you get out there and you and TZ can hang out in peace. Maybe if you really stall long enough you'll run into another corpse party bubble and you'll have someone to talk to for a couple hours who doesn't have holes in their neck. If anyone asks why you were in the bathroom that long, you can just blame Rose's cooking. Nevermind that it's been three days since you've eaten anything but alchemized clones of that perfect Dorito you found last weekend. You need time to whine pathetically, safe from the prying eyes and noses of your peers, and the bathroom shall be your sanctuary. It's a brilliant plan.
Or at least it would be, except that the door finally slams open before you get a shot at even one pathetically dramatic sigh. It doesn't help that the sound makes you jerk, startled, and your foot damn near slips off the seat into the bowl.
KARKAT: STRIDER?
If you hadn't been so busy muttering obscenities internally, you might have heard his approach. Karkat is the one member of his species, at least that you've met, that is incapable of sneaking up on anyone. But his shout of your name is simultaneously your irritating first notice he's here, and a heavenly chorus letting you know that the universe has taken some form of pity upon you and you get to survive another day.
That still doesn't mean you're happy to hear him.
DAVE: daves not in right now leave a message at the beep
KARKAT: WHAT.
DAVE: hes not here
DAVE: leave a message
KARKAT: WHY WOULD I DO THAT?
KARKAT: I'M TALKING TO YOU RIGHT NOW.
KARKAT: FUCKKNUCKLE.
DAVE: im not in the mood for your shit
KARKAT: I'M NEVER IN THE MOOD FOR YOUR SHIT STRIDER BUT HERE WE ARE.
DAVE: you could fuck off
KARKAT: NO, THIS IS TOO INTERESTING.
DAVE: what
KARKAT: STRIDER, I KNOW YOU'RE HIDING IN THERE.
Damn't. Karkat is the one person you can usually count on to not wear down your bullshit tolerance meter. Normally, he's the person you can throw it back at.
God fucking damn't you miss the days when you could pretend to yourself that you weren't barely keeping a lid on all your fucks all the time. Right now you can barely pretend it to anyone else.
But you're not going down without a fight.
DAVE: karkat im trying to take a human shit here
DAVE: its usually a solo activity
DAVE: for humans
KARKAT: YOU SHIT.
DAVE: yeah
KARKAT: NO, I WAS CALLING YOU A PIECE OF SHIT YOU PIECE OF SHIT.
DAVE: right go on
KARKAT: DO HUMANS USUALLY SHIT WITH THEIR FEET ON THE SEAT?
DAVE: this human does
KARKAT: WHY?
DAVE: because its comfortable
DAVE: my bowels have never known such comfort
DAVE: you ever tried shitting with you feet on the seat
DAVE: try it sometime
DAVE: go on
DAVE: im telling you next time you shit you should put your feet up on the seat
DAVE: relax
DAVE: and enjoy
DAVE: shits amazing
DAVE: get it
DAVE: shits amazing
DAVE: im amazing
KARKAT: HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?
You probably have. And why the fuck not. Everyone else seems to have. You haven't seen a member of your own species that you're not paradoxically related to in five months, you've accepted building monuments out of canned vegetables as a normal day to day activity, and you haven't even had a decent spar since that time you managed to kill Rose three weeks into the trip. Not to mention the fucking murderclown whose presence keeps you up at night. So yeah. You've probably lost your mind.
But you're not going to say that shit out loud. Especially not to Karkat. Maybe to Rose, but you're not quite sure you're that desperate yet, so you'll probably just make a comic about it instead.
You shift on the seat, wondering if there's a way you can sit down properly without making too much of a racket, because your toes are starting to go numb.
KARKAT: DAVE?
KARKAT: DID YOU SEE GAMZEE?
DAVE: no
KARKAT: THEN WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?
There is seriously no end to his bullshit. You're starting to wish Gamzee had been the one at the door, because that death would likely have been much swifter.
DAVE: karkat
KARKAT: YEAH?
DAVE: im going to say this nicely
DAVE: are you ready
DAVE: this is the civilised way
DAVE: go and fuck yourself so hard that you fall into the abyss of space
KARKAT: WHAT'S THE STRIDER WAY THEN?
DAVE: i dont know
DAVE: i was never prepared for psychological warfare with an alien while im trying to take a shit
KARKAT: YOU'RE NOT REALLY TAKING A SHIT, DAVE.
DAVE: arent i
DAVE: do you really want to test out this theory
DAVE: do you
DAVE: dont fuck with me
DAVE: im the one in here
DAVE: with a load gaper full of human shit
DAVE: and ill gladly wipe
DAVE: right now
DAVE: and hurl that shit in your direction
DAVE: now thatll be funny
DAVE: hilarious
You lean over and grab at the toilet paper roll, hoping the sound will reinforce your bluff. Maybe Karkat's existence can bring you amusement today after all. Maybe things are looking up.
The quietest of all splashes behind you assures you that no, no they are not.
DAVE: fuck
KARKAT: WHAT?
DAVE: nothing
KARKAT: THAT DIDN'T SOUND LIKE A NOTHING FUCK.
KARKAT: THAT WAS AN 'I ACTUALLY MADE A COMPLETE FUCKING ASSHOLE OF MYSELF' FUCK.
KARKAT: WHICH ISN'T SURPRISING.
KARKAT: BECAUSE YOU'RE A COMPLETE FUCKING ASSHOLE.
KARKAT: WHO MAKES AN ASSHOLE OUT OF HIMSELF EVERY DAY OF HIS RIDICULOUS SHITSTAIN OF A LIFE.
DAVE: nice
DAVE: you should go into motivational speaking
DAVE: my fucking god pajama cape fell into the bowl
KARKAT: YOU'RE A BRAINLESS SHITSACK.
DAVE: can you actually fuck off or something
DAVE: im really not up for dealing with your shit right now
KARKAT: I CAN SEE THAT.
KARKAT: WHAT'S YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM?
DAVE: honkings started up again
KARKAT: DAVE,
KARKAT: ARE YOU SERIOUS?
KARKAT: YOU'RE HIDING IN A LOAD GAPER STALL BECAUSE OF THAT MORON?
DAVE: yep
KARKAT: SERIOUSLY?
DAVE: yes
KARKAT: DAVE?
DAVE: what
KARKAT: STOP BEING A PATHETIC WIGGLER SHITLORD AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE.
KARKAT: HE'S HARMLESS.
DAVE: dude you have got to be kidding me
KARKAT: WHAT.
DAVE: you saw all the murder go down right
DAVE: the clown is so down with murder
DAVE: murder murder murder
KARKAT: JUST GET OUT OF THERE.
He's actually yelling now. Real yelling, not the weird classmate who has trouble controlling the volume of their voice because they're trying not to let it crack kind of shouting that he normally does.
DAVE: seriously fuck off okay
KARKAT: DAVE,
DAVE: fuck off
KARKAT: DAVE?
KARKAT: DAVE?
KARKAT: YOU'VE BEEN IN THERE FOR TEN OF YOUR EARTH MINUTES.
DAVE: eight minutes twenty seven seconds and 19 milliseconds as of now
KARKAT: THAT'S VERY SPECIFIC.
DAVE: knight of time asshole
KARKAT: IF YOU'RE NOT COMING OUT, I'LL COME IN.
Apparently, from the sound of his fucking footsteps, he's serious. Shit.
KARKAT: AND YOU'RE LYING ABOUT HIM.
KARKAT: NO ONE'S SEEN HIM IN WEEKS.
DAVE: dude what
DAVE: fuck off
DAVE: karkat just leave it okay
DAVE: get out of here
KARKAT: NO DAVE, YOU ARE CLEARLY INCAPABLE OF THINKING LOGICALLY RIGHT NOW.
KARKAT: LET ME IN.
DAVE: no way
DAVE: let me get my sulk on in peace
Might as well call it what it is. He has no idea if you're being sarcastic or not at this point anyway, which is hilarious because he's the only other person on this hunk of rock capable of using sarcasm reliably.
KARKAT: WHAT?
KARKAT: OPEN THE DOOR.
DAVE: no
KARKAT: OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR STRIDER, YOU FUCKWRANGLING DUMBSHIT.
KARKAT: I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU.
DAVE: i dont need help
The door rattles. Karkat is clearly more of a dumbass than you've ever given him credit for. Amazing.
DAVE: karkat
DAVE: stop it
In stark defiance of your request, the door rattles again. Harder. Karkat's silhouette blocks out the light from the crack between the door and the frame, and you can see him bracing himself to ram the door. Instinctively, you scoot back, expecting the door to fly open and him to fall across you.
DAVE: what the fuck
KARKAT: LET ME IN.
DAVE: youre a fucking madman
DAVE: you should be the one hiding in the air vents
KARKAT: DAMMIT STRIDER, OPEN THE DOOR.
Then Karkat gives a proper demonstration of his emotional maturity and starts approaching this perceived problem like he approaches every other one.
He starts kicking the door.
The door, and everything attached to it, rattles in complaint, but shockingly it seems to be the one thing on this meteor willing to ally itself with you, and it remains steadfastly closed.
Several seconds of blessed silence follow as he backs away from the door. For a brief moment you actually delude yourself into thinking he's going to respect your wishes and leave you alone.
But this is Karkat, so naturally you're nowhere near that lucky. Instead, he gets as much of a running start as the bathroom will afford him, and the next thing you know, both his arms are hooked over the top of the door and his feet are scrambling at it like a cat at a new sofa.
DAVE: what the shitting fuck are you doing now
He stares down at you, and you're not sure who looks more bewildered; you, or the alien clinging to the bathroom stall like a fucking koala. Either way, your brain engages full bullshit overload, and you start ranting at him while scooting as far away as possible.
DAVE: dude get down
DAVE: why are you doing this
DAVE: there is not enough space in here
DAVE: and even if there was
DAVE: i wouldnt want you in here
He throws a leg over anyway, turning around with all the grace of a first grader who just figured out how to climb the jungle gym to avoid the imaginary lava but now has no idea how to get down before the bell rings.
DAVE: why are you climbing over
KARKAT: BECAUSE IF I CRAWL UNDER SOMEONE WILL WALK IN,
KARKAT: AND THINK I'M GROVELLING AT THE FEET OF DAVE FUCKING STRIDER.
KARKAT: THIS IS BETTER.
Naturally, he completely misses that he has completely missed the point of your question. You debate willing yourself into an out of body experience in order to find this hilarious, because it would be, if you weren't the one it was happening to. You listen hard for several seconds, telling yourself you hear someone breathing in the next stall over, reassuring yourself that in an hour or so you'll time loop back, situate yourself on another toilet, and listen in to this entire escapade so you can relish it instead of being mortified.
You hear nothing of the sort, however, and as he eyes the ground in a continuation of your previous metaphor, you realize you're about to be stuck in a fucking bathroom stall with Karkat Vantas.
DAVE: jegus help me
Halfway down, he seems to change his mind between dropping straight to the floor and using the toilet as a step. You manage to get far enough out of the way quickly enough to avoid being stepped on, but that creates what is arguably a worse problem.
Karkat's foot slides right off the seat and into the water. You barely have time to shut your eyes and pray that this is either a doomed timeline or there is a future you nearby taking sick pleasure in the situation before you're knocked against the wall by five-feet-fourish-inches of stupid, clumsy alien jackass.
You take 27 seconds to ponder if you could kill him and make it look like Gamzee did it before you stop waiting for him to get off you and push him off yourself. His foot remains lodged in the toilet and thus his balance precariously tilted toward you. You can't even prefix it with an "unfortunately" at this stage, because by now you know damn well that with Karkat, this shit is an eventuality, not bad luck.
DAVE: just for reference
DAVE: if i was actually taking a shit
DAVE: the last thing id want is a troll in my lap
DAVE: with his shoe marinating in that mess
DAVE: we clear
KARKAT: YES.
He gives a half-hearted attempt at pulling his foot out and just winds up losing his balance again instead. The awkward hopping that follows would be more amusing if you weren't up close and personal with it - seriously, you don't even let Terezi this far into your bubble most of the time. At this point it's only the knowledge he won't come back if you kill him while strifing that keeps you from getting slappy over it.
Except now he's gawking at two week old sharpie drawings on the stall divider instead of trying to get off you.
KARKAT: DAVE?
DAVE: what
KARKAT: WHAT IS THAT IDIOTIC FUCKSTAIN ON THE WALL?
DAVE: nothing
KARKAT: IS THAT THE SAME COMIC THAT'S ON THE ABLUTION CHAMBER DOOR?
DAVE: might be
DAVE: now get the fuck off me and open the door
DAVE: and dont splash
DAVE: the capes been through enough bs today
It involves a lot of stumbling, a fair amount of shoving, and one uncomfortable hand grab when you both go for the door's lock at the same time, but somehow you both manage to get out of the stall without anything else landing in the toilet. Your cape is noticeably heavier for the water it soaked up though, so as soon as there's breathing room between you and crabby, you start wringing it out.
Clearly, turning your attention away for even that long is a fucking mistake, because suddenly there are grey fingers in your peripheral vision and they are uncomfortably close to your face. You drop your cape, swatting his hand away like a fly, but he brings it back with surprising speed.
You don't know what's worse: the fact that he touched you on the fucking face, or that he smudged your ishades in the process. You get about half of a fuck off out of your mouth before you realize that what you thought was the sink running is actually him making those godawful shushing noises.
DAVE: was that a pap
KARKAT: NO.
He says it like he expects you to believe him, and isn't still trying to reach in for another. He says it like you didn't fucking fracture two knuckles on his skull the first time he tried this shit three months back. He says it like you aren't fully prepared to do it again, or maybe skip the pain on your end and just grab his fingers and snap them. You're pretty good at snapping things in half.
DAVE: it was
KARKAT: DAVE, I AM TRYING TO HELP.
KARKAT: LET ME HELP YOU.
DAVE: dude get off me
DAVE: the shooshes were bad enough
DAVE: can you not
DAVE: enough with the paps
KARKAT: NOT UNTIL YOU'RE CALM!
DAVE: im calm okay
KARKAT: NO, YOU'RE NOT.
DAVE: i am see
DAVE: calm as a cucumber
KARKAT: YOU'RE CLEARLY NOT CALM AT ALL.
KARKAT: YOU USED THAT EARTH METAPHOR WRONG.
KARKAT: IT'S JUST A PAP, DAVE.
DAVE: isnt this the kind of shit yall do with your pastel coloured boyfriends
DAVE: all this face stroking
DAVE: and completely not hetero touching
KARKAT: WHAT? NO.
KARKAT: I'M JUST TRYING TO CALM YOU DOWN.
KARKAT: BECAUSE WHEN THIS IS OVER, IT'LL BE A HILARIOUS STORY TO MOCK YOU WITH.
KARKAT: BECAUSE WE STILL HAVE SWEEPS TO GO ON THIS TRIP.
DAVE: dude cut out this papping bullshit
DAVE: its getting gay
KARKAT: WHAT?
DAVE: im not freaky alien in love minus the banging with you
DAVE: stop
KARKAT: THIS IS ENTIRELY PLATONIC, YOU SHITSTAIN!
DAVE: doesnt feel like it
KARKAT: WHY THE HELL NOT?
DAVE: because youre touching my face
DAVE: a lot
KARKAT: AND?
DAVE: bros dont stroke bros faces platonically
He stares at you skeptically, but he finally gets his hands out of your bubble.
KARKAT: THEN TELL ME DAVE,
KARKAT: WHAT IS AN ADEQUATE HUMAN PLATONIC ACTION FOR CALMING SOMEONE DOWN?
KARKAT: EITHER TELL ME OR STOP BEING A FUCKING WIGGLER ABOUT THIS.
KARKAT: IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?
KARKAT: TO BE CALLED A WIGGLER EVERY TIME I SEE YOU?
KARKAT: IT'S JUST A PLATONIC PAP, YOU INCOMPETENT ASSLORD.
Unfortunately, he immediately starts to reel his arm back. Part of you wants to grab your half sword and fight back, because you're sure he's going for his sickle, and part of you's so sick of today and so resigned to the idea of dying today anyway that you aren't sure strifing would be worth it anyway. Being dead for a couple hours might be a welcome respite from this bullshit, and someone else will probably have bitched Karkat out by the time you wake back up.
You stare at him past your own raised blocking arm and sigh. No, you're a Strider, and Striders don't run from their fucking problems, even in the face of probable blackmail.
DAVE: jegus its kanaya okay
Karkat blinks and his hand falls. Hurray, if all else fails, you've at least confused him out of attacking you.
KARKAT: KANAYA.
KARKAT: YOU'RE HIDING LIKE A WIGGLER BECAUSE OF KANAYA?
DAVE: and terezi
KARKAT: YOU'RE HIDING FROM BOTH YOURS AND ROSE'S RESPECTIVE MATESPRITS?
The word "matesprits" sends an involuntary cringe across your face that you hope your shades don't completely hide. You're not even sure Terezi's your girlfriend, let alone using whatever funky troll word for it. You guys just hang out. Okay, sure, sometimes you kiss, but it's not like you've got a lot of prospects on this meteor. Even if you do kind of like her, you know how teenage relationships go, so you're sure as hell not up to starting anything serious, first girl to show real interest in you or not.
And that's without going into the way Rose gets any time you try to call Kanaya her girlfriend. Everyone else on the meteor knows that's a lie as fat as the green sun is wide, but when it comes to Karkat you're more than happy to debate terms on her behalf.
DAVE: its not like that
DAVE: but yes im hiding from them
KARKAT: WHY?
DAVE: because
Clearly, that's not a good enough reason for him. He side eyes you pretty hard over it, actually. Knowing you've annoyed him makes you feel the best you've felt in a couple days.
Fuck debating terms. Inciting strife suddenly sounds like the best idea ever.
DAVE: spread the word
DAVE: hiding from my alien girlfriend
DAVE: and roses alien girlfriend
DAVE: must suck to be a male troll right now
DAVE: two of the four humans left in existence on board this meteor
DAVE: and they only want troll girlfriends
DAVE: and not even the trolls want you
DAVE: in any of your stupid quadrants
DAVE: sucks to be you
He raises his fist at you again, growling. You smirk. He catches on too soon, and the fist opens, and suddenly he's closing in to pap you instead, though he's still shouty.
KARKAT: IS THERE SOME IRONIC NATURE TO THIS HOOFBEAST MANURE YOU'RE SPOUTING OR IS THERE ACTUALLY A GLITCH IN YOUR HUMAN THINKPAN?
DAVE: jegus
DAVE: okay
You swat his hand away, scooting as far back as you can without ducking back into the stall, and wave your hand for him to do the same.
DAVE: can you take at least three steps back
DAVE: maybe more
DAVE: yeah thats not far enough keep going
You keep telling him to scoot until he finally just climbs onto the counter and sits between the sinks, staring at you in that eerily over-concerned manner. It occurs to you that there was a girl in fourth grade who'd have the same expression whenever someone said something bad about Hannah Montanna, and that you want to tell Karkat this but you know he'll just ask who the fuck that is.
Which all serves as one big reminder that not only are you stuck somewhere in space - hell, someplace outside space - with a bunch of aliens, most of whom want to kill, eat, or at least taste you, but that you've been here long enough that it's actually getting routine enough that you can predict what half of them are going to say by now.
You lean back against the toilet divider, take the longest, deepest breath you can, and hold it in until you start to feel a little dizzy. You don't even bother trying to avoid sitting on the damp part of your cape as you slide down to the floor, going through another couple of deep breaths and letting your head sink back against the partition. Breathe in, breathe out, keep your eyes shut, it's not like you're not used to unconventional bullshit anyway, this is nothing.
KARKAT: SO IS THIS AN ACTUAL OUTBURST OF HUMAN EMOTION?
You sigh.
Karkat isn't on that list of aliens who want to kill, eat, or taste you. Against those options, invasions of personal space almost seem like a tolerable crime. You cast the door a glance, debating bolting again. Fine, you'll give this venting thing a shot. Can't be worse than Rose. Karkat doesn't even know who Freud is.
DAVE: yes
DAVE: and if you tell anyone
DAVE: ill kill you
DAVE: and then go back in time
DAVE: and kill you again
DAVE: repeatedly
DAVE: until im satisfied
DAVE: we clear
KARKAT: VERY CLEAR.
You glance over at him, and he's still got the Hannah Montanna girl stare on. You instinctively check to make sure your glasses are covering your eyes, which he takes as his cue to fill the silence.
KARKAT: SO WHY ARE YOU HIDING IN THE LOAD GAPER?
DAVE: ive come to terms with the whole alien thing
DAVE: im down with that
DAVE: sure
DAVE: i always figured aliens were out there somewhere
DAVE: but i didnt sign up for vampires
KARKAT: FOR WHAT?
DAVE: shit
DAVE: what did you call them
DAVE: whatever the fuck kanaya is
KARKAT: YOU'RE SCARED OF RAINBOW DRINKERS?
DAVE: im not scared
DAVE: just that shit aint cool
KARKAT: YOU LET HER DRINK FROM YOU HALF A PERIGEE AGO
DAVE: yeah
DAVE: that was a mistake
You rub your forehead and look at the door again. Since when did you know what a perigee was, or how long it was, or become so sickeningly aware of time to know Karkat's wrong and it was only a third of a perigee ago that you-
You have another surge of nausea and instinctively grab at your collar, tightening it around your neck to guard it, an action that causes Karkat to slide forward like he's getting worried about you again.
That's honestly the last fucking thing you need right now, is anyone feeling sorry for you. You wish someone else would be pitiful for a while.
DAVE: and so was this conversation
DAVE: forget it
DAVE: we got any os left in the fridge or do i need to alchemize some more
KARKAT: SOME FUCKING WHAT LEFT IN THE WHAT?
DAVE: orange soda in the thermal hull
KARKAT: YEAH.
DAVE: great
Subject change: successful. Ding ding ding. Fifty points to Gryffindor, or something. You keep the sarcastic firework noises to yourself so you don't have to explain them to Karkat, then drag your feet under you and go to stand up.
KARKAT: SO OUT OF CURIOSITY,
Minus three thousand points to - oh, fuck the metaphor.
DAVE: i cant deal with any more troll curiosity today man
DAVE: just back off
DAVE: ill see you later or something
DAVE: common room dinner is on tonight
KARKAT: WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK IS A SHITTING PLATONIC MOTION FOR CALMING A DISTRAUGHT HUMAN?
Oh. That much curiosity is okay. Maybe. At least it would be, if you had any fucking clue how to answer it. You haven't exactly had close enough friends, at least offline, for them to see you distraught, let alone calm you. Jade might have hugged you a couple times, but that was different.
Trying to think about it only yields memories of head pats and mussed hair from when you still barely came up to Bro's waist. You're pretty sure if even he tried that now, you'd be pissed.
DAVE: i dunno
DAVE: shoulder pat
DAVE: fistbump
KARKAT: YOU MEAN THAT FUCKASSERY YOU DO WITH TEREZI WHEN YOU SAY SOMETHING YOU THINK TRANSCENDS IRONY COMPLETELY?
DAVE: yep
KARKAT: HOW IS THAT COMFORTING?
DAVE: it just is
You get back on your feet, staring at him for several seconds. All the while, Karkat continues to look perplexed, which you only don't mind because he looks like he's actually thinking now, as opposed to the fourth grader stare from before.
He could be trying to kill you, but he's not. He could have left you and your ectosis in the eerie green glow of the outer ring, instead of following through with his part of the plan, but he didn't. He could be mocking you, but instead he's apparently actually trying to make you feel better.
You're pretty sure, the Mayor's eternally sunny disposition aside, he's the only one on this hellhole who's ever attempted that.
Maybe he's all right, after all. As far as trolls go.
You put your hand out, knuckles first, and he eyes you suspiciously like he's still not sure you're not going to change your mind and punch him at the last second.
DAVE: hurry up
DAVE: and dont try to make anything of this
DAVE: its platonic
DAVE: fistbumps between bros are always platonic you hear
KARKAT: WHATEVER.
Not bad, for his first fist bump. Terezi took a few tries to pick it up. Now she makes firework noises like a champ.
KARKAT: WAIT, BROS?
You shrug. You've got over two and a half years left to make the best of. A friend couldn't hurt.
DAVE: yeah sure
DAVE: why not