You are a Strider. The cool kid. You don't show emotion, fear, or pain. You don't want to waste your time with these losers, so you lock your self in your room for days to mix some sweet beats. You wear the shades that were on Ben Stiller's creepy ass face to be ironic. You practice every day with your stupid broken shitty swords to get to Bro's level (though you know you'll never be that good). You always were your god hood up and your sleeves long, because it looks cool. And you are absolutely not mad, afraid, or upset about anyone or anything.
Or at least that's what everyone thinks. It's funny how no one can even guess what you're really thinking, doing, inside your head. It's funny how no one even wants to know or thinks there's something wrong. It's funny how everyone just thinks they know what you feel and why you do the things you do. It's funny how Jade's always flitting about you, taking care of you, yet she doesn't realize that you don't eat. Don't Sleep. Shit, you even have Rose fooled. And that's no minor feat. You should have leveled up to the top of your God Tear just for that. Except, God Tears are for heroes. And Heroes don't carry the emotions you do.
You are mad, afraid, and upset. You lock yourself away in your room for days to get away from them; no one will see you crying. You practice with your swords all the time because it feels good to let it all out. To break things. You wear your hood up so they can't see your tear stained face. Sleeves long so they can't see the scars, bruises. And you wear the aviators because he gave them to you.
John Egbert. Heir of Breath. Your best bro. Best friend. The love of your life. The one who chose another.
Your fist collides with the wall next to your door.
"Damn it..." You murmur, sliding to the floor.
Why did he have to do it? Why Karkat? Why couldn't they keep their 'affections' to themselves and out of your sight? And why the fuck can't you keep your cool?! You pull off your shades and place them to the side, ruby eyes lingering longer than the should, mind recalling memories you didn't want surfaced.
It was only three weeks ago that John and Jade met up with the meteor, only three weeks since you first laid your eyes on him. But that first minute was all you needed to know that the feelings you've harbored over four painfully long years was love. He'd ran- no, floated- over to you, 'Hi, Dave!' he gave you a huge 'bro' hug. And what did you say? 'Sup, Egderp.' Oh, god, you are such an idiot. Could you at least have showed a little of the happiness that you were feeling? He rolled his eyes at you playfully, then moved on, greeting Rose and every troll. Things were fine... until he got to Karkat. The look they gave each other, the way they immediately hit off, it hurt. Jade was talking to you, but you didn't hear a thing she was saying.
One week later, you had the first break down since your bro died. What had caused it? Karkat asked John try to be his matesprit. And Egbert, oh Egbert. John 'I'm not a homosexual' Egbert said yes. You absconded the fuck out of there, faster than you'd moved in any of your strifes to this day.
The mirror was first, glass shards falling to the floor much like your own mask of emotions. You had slowly pulled your hand back, now cut and bloody. Alone, hidden, you mended your first injury you'd had in three years. Fixed the first broken object out of many more to come. Created the first ribbon of blood of many that would fall from your arm.
Fourteen. One slice for everyday now adorns your arm. Soon to be fifteen. You pick your head up slowly. Pain and shame enveloping your face. Pain for your heart, shame for your actions. God you are so weak. You are Dave motherfucking Strider. A Strider should never be so weak to the point where he goes to his room in tears and cuts his arms. Bro would be so ashamed of you.
Bro.
Well, you're already depressed as fuck so thinking about your bro won't do you anymore harm. Or so you think.
How ashamed he would be of you if he could see you now. Pathetic. Useless. Stupid. He was protecting you. You couldn't save him. None of you could. He's dead because of you. You're no hero. You don't deserve to wear the Knight of Time GodTier outfit. You don't deserve anything good that's happened to you. Only the pain.
The pain.
You barely feel it when the blade enters your wrist. How far could you go? The knife digs deeper, red is everywhere, and you want to die. Bone. You stop, dizzy. Oh God, that's a lot of blood.
"Dave?" Knocking at your door. His voice. "Dave, are you in there?"
You can't answer, you can't feel. You stumble and fall, vision failing. The pain, still not feeling.
Your door creaks, groans. Oh God, you've seen him do this before, work the wind to unlock a room. Shit. He's going to see you, he's going to be hurt. You never wanted him to be hurt.
"Dave?" The door opens. You try to freeze time, or to leave it, but you can't. Blood loss, lack of sleep, lack of food have made you weak. So weak. Pathetic. Useless.
"Dave!" Wide sapphire eyes, oh you always loved his eyes. There was nothing more beautiful, more blue. But his eyes, they were... shocked. Scared. Pained. He should never be pained. He's hurt because of you. You hurt John Egbert. The only person you've ever loved.
"Oh god, Dave!" Suddenly, he's next to you, crying. John should never be crying. It was like having Karkat shut up. It just couldn't, shouldn't happen.
The world goes from red to black. Your name flowing from his lips is the last thing you hear.
So this is what it's like to die. A clock. The fuck?
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Heroic. Just. Heroic. Just.
Well, your death certainly wasn't Heroic, you fucking pathetic prick. And Just? You sliced your fucking wrist open dip shit. You're going to be fine.
Wait. What.
Something stirs with in you, a bright feeling. A weight being returned to your chest, and then, weightlessness. You're floating. Bright lights in every color imaginable spark and circle around you, the blood on you vanishes. Oh? So resurrection comes with a free cleaning? Got to keep the heroes looking nice...
Thud. Apparently, you're not worth enough to be lowered gently to the ground; just dropped on your ass. Ow. Shit.
You snap open crimson eyes, immediately meeting worry filled azure. A single question coating his pained face. Oh, Dave, you royally fucked right up this time. His eyes search your face, looking for any hint of a leaking emotion. Nothing.
"Dave..." He lowers his eyes to your wrist, now completely healed. A gasp escapes, though, when his eyes hit the rest of your arm. Fourteen scars. Fourteen cuts that didn't kill you. Fourteen scars that didn't heal.
He looks back up at you, tears threatening to spill over electric blue eyes. "What ha-" He stops, switching to a different question. "Why?"
You have no answer. You've forgotten how to speak.
"Why?" He whispers again.
"John?" A voice calls down the hall. Jade.
"Are you okay? We heard yelling." And Rose, voices moving closer.
Shit Fuck Oh god they were going to see shitshitshitshitfuckshitfuck fuckfuck... Your poker face breaks slightly, fear slipping in.
He sees.
He knows.
Wind suddenly slams your door shut. "Yeah." He lies. "It's nothing." And his voice didn't even falter.
"Dave." He presses. "Please."
You have not idea what to say. "J-John..." You whisper. "I'm sorry." You lower your blood red eyes.
"For what?" He sits in front of you, hands tracing the scars, holding your arm.
"Everything." You whisper. You're already broken farther than you ever knew you could break; it no longer matters. "That you saw... That I hurt you... That I..."
He just stares at you, waiting. He would wait forever if he had to. You've learned that he's patient when it came to people; he'd wait for all the gears to fall into place, all the cogs to begin to turn, then would just listen. He wasn't pushy like Karkat or interrupting with opinions and advise like Rose. He just listened. You love it. You love him.
"I'm sorry that I fell in love with you." You whisper.
His eyes widen, surprised. You don't want to hear what he has to say. Luckily, time is back on your side. You freeze it for a few seconds, then abscond the fuck out of your room. Time snaps back to normal as you flashstep to a secret alcove you'd found once. Following it leads you out to the above deck; to a section that no one could find. You love it there. Alone. Empty. Peaceful. Just you and the stars whizzing by at the speed of light.
It's just what you need now.
You climb the metal ladder and scramble into the open deck. Away from the world below, you flip your hood up and fold your slender body into a circle, pulling your knees up to your chest. You don't make a sound, but let silent tears stream down your face. God, you are such an idiot, such as failure. You hurt him. John's not completely stupid, so a talk with Rose will probably get him to realize that you've been cutting because of him. Then you will hurt him even more. You will never forgive yourself.
Selfish. So, so selfish. If you would have only kept your mouth shut, if only you didn't want him to know. You could have lied. Said... it was an accident or something. He wouldn't believe that. He's not that stupid. He saw the scars.
Tears continue to cascade down your cheeks, and you close your eyes, sleep taking you for the first time in days.
The first thing you notice when you return to consciousness is a gentle hand stroking your hair. The second is that your head is no longer on the cold metal floor like the rest of your body, but in someone's lap. And the third is that someone was softly singing to you.
Anyone else would have freaked out to waking up to something like this, but you somehow maintain your Strider cool. The person hasn't noticed your waking yet.
Slowly, the soft humming becomes intelligible words in your ears:
"...I might not be the right one, it might not be the right time, but there's something about us I've got to do. Some kind of secret I will share with you.
I need you more than anything in my life, I want you more than anything in my life, I'll miss you more than anyone in my life, I love you more than anyone in my life"
John. You didn't know he could sing so well, but you would know his voice anywhere. And the song, Daft Punk, you think, was very fitting. If you were the one singing it to him.
What was he doing singing a love song to you?
You slide open your eyes, not surprised that you are not wearing your shades.
"...Listen to the melody cause my love is in there hiding, I love you in a place where there's no space or time. I love you for in my life you are a friend of mine. And when my life is over, remember when we were together, we were alone and I was singing this song for you..."
A different song, you feel like your going to start crying again. Weak, pathetic cry baby Strider. Can't do anything right, can't keep it together. You shift ever so slightly, praying he doesn't hear you.
Your wishes aren't granted. "Dave?" He whispers cautiously, hand stopping mid-stroke of your hair.
You say nothing. You're not sure if you can't speak or if you can't think of what to say. Maybe he'll think your still asleep if you don't move.
"Dave..." He whispers again, more empty, desperate.
It makes your heart break. You aren't doing anything, and you're still hurting him.
"I'm so sorry, Dave." You barely hear what he whispers. "It's my fault. I hurt you."
Wait. What? Rewind that back, he thinks he hurt you? No, no, no. This isn't John's fault. It's yours. You were to slow to act, to slow to realize what you've known all along. You are the one that can't take the game, life, the emotional pain, your feelings. You were the one who wasn't eating, sleeping. You were the cutter. Not him, not John. John is perfect. John is a God. You are a failure.
Your body begins to shake slightly as tears spring from scarlet eyes.
"Dave?" His voice is still shallow, afraid. You choke back a sob.
His arms twine around your body; on your head, the petting continues. "Shhhh... Shhh... Dave, it's okay. I'm sorry. Shhhhh..."
His words of comfort don't affect you; at 'i'm sorry' you cry harder. You weakly pull away from his arms, he lets you sit up. You give yourself a minute to compose your face as best you can before turning to face him.
You look into sad, gentle blue eyes. His face matches yours, streaked with tears. He cried for you. He's hurt because of you.
Your weakened body caves in on its self and the little self control you have left snaps.
You wail.
Your body shakes violently, rivers spill down your face.
"Dave?" He asked worriedly, arms rewrapping around you, holding you close.
"J-J-J...Jo...John...I-I...I...I'm so sorry, John...S-so...Sorry." You barley choke out.
He lifts your head from his shoulder. "Dave. You have nothing to be sorry for."
"John." You whisper when you can breath again. "I have everything to be sorry for."
"Dave. That's not tr-"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence Egbert. I will not let you blame your self for how fucked up I am." You pull your blood eyes up to lock with his beautiful electric blue. "I'm sorry for everything I've ever done. I'm sorry I couldn't protect my Bro. I'm sorry that once, I couldn't save you. I'm sorry you saw what you did. But most of all, I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I made you feel sad." You run your thumb over his tear stained cheeks.
"No..."
"I'm a failure." You say, locking eyes with the floor. "Weak. Useless. Pathetic. Stupid-"
"No." He says, forcefully this time. "You are Dave Strider. You died multiple times to insure that we wouldn't. You are not weak. You got our timeline on track, and keep it there with your life. You aren't useless. Every time you were knocked down, you got back up and fought harder. You are not pathetic. You can figure out complex puzzles, some computer coding, and make the most awesome songs I've ever heard. The only stupid thing you've done would be deciding that you shouldn't be alive anymore." His eyes begin to water up.
You look up to see him look down. "How long have you been cutting?" His eyes tells you he really didn't want to know. His tone tells you he does.
"Fifteen days, today, ten hours." You answer. You probably didn't need to be that specific, but you are the time guy and may Gamzee kill you if you didn't have a perfect sense of time and rhythm.
"That's when me and Karkat started going out..." He breathed. Oh god, if he makes the connection, it will only make him feel worse.
"It wasn't just that." You blurt, before you can stop your self. Shit. The 'other thing' is going to make him feel worse than the first.
"What?" He asks.
You say nothing. You are such an idiot.
"Dave, if there's something else, tell me. I'm your friend. I want to help you."
"It's nothing." You don't look at him. A mistake.
"I'm calling Bullshit, Dave. You were cutting yourself because of me."
"N-" You snap your head up to protest, but he puts a finger over your lips.
"Hush. Let me finish psychoanalyzing you, or I'll go to Rose." That shuts you up in record time. Your Ecto-Twin does not need to be informed of this. "You never talk to anyone, so you must be feeling pretty bad about everything and you lock your self in your room, where from what I saw, you break things. You look so tired all the time, so I'm guessing you're not sleeping either. God, Dave. What's next? Not eating?"
He's joking, but you look down again, guilty.
"Oh god, Dave. Don't tell me..." He uses a hand to hold yours and the other to feel your chest through your shirt. You nod in reply to his unspoken question. You are thin. You've always been lean and lightly muscular, but now you were just thin. You had no creative words to describe it.
He turns watery eyes back to yours, the question of 'how long?' painted onto his face. "Three weeks, one day." You say.
He shakes his head in disbelief, a frown growing on his face. "I'm so sorry, Dave. This is my fault..."
"No." You actually get the word out this time. "No, John. This is not your fault." You find the strength to look up, and make sure that his eyes are locked with yours. "I will not allow you to take the blame for how fucked up I am. So stop trying. Everything I have done has been my choice. And I have never been more sorry in my whole life for not being able to suck it up a deal with it. I had to result to the lowest level of un-cool there could possibly be because I couldn't deal with anything." The tears were back in full force. "And I am so sorry for it. I-I'm n-not even sure what to say, or how to act right now. I've never been more open about anything to anyone in my life. Not even...Bro..." Your voice breaks and you want to kill yourself. Again.
Through the tears, you can see the wires connecting in his head. "Oh, Dave. Shoosh... Shoosh... Dave, I know, I know it hurts. I never really got over my... dad... either. I couldn't protect him. But Jade's convinced me that they all died for us. That they died so we could live. That this is what they wanted."
Three years you've been trying to heal over your Bro. Rose working on you for six months. You did everything you could think of. Built more walls. Tried to be tougher.
Three years you've been trying to heal over your Bro. Rose working on you for six months. You did everything you could think of. Built more walls. Tried to be tougher. Became more detached and aloof. Nothing worked.
It took John one minute forty-six seconds to help you. To convince you. To make you feel better than you have in three years. You know that it's mostly because it's John. Only John could influence you so much. He was better than any doctor anyone could prescribe, he was the savior of your world. He was the love of your life.
The love of your life.
He doesn't love you though.
The tears, which were lightening up, return in full force. "Thank you, John." You choke out. "For being the best bro-friend I could ever ask for. You are so much more than I deserve."
He smiles weakly, and you can only begin to imagine what this has been like for him, having to deal with all your emotional shit in such a short time. "No, Dave. You're amazing. You deserve a better friend then me. How can I even still be allowed to call myself your friend, when I didn't even notice there was something wrong with you? Some friend I am!" He laughs lightly.
"What can I say bro?" You slightly whimper, "We Striders are wonderful actors."
"Still," He says, picking up your hand and intwining his fingers with yours. "I should have spent less time with Karkat and more time with my best friend who I'd never met before. And, for that Dave, I'm sorry." He squeezes your hand comfortingly. "And I know I hurt you when I agreed to date Karakt, and I'm sorry for that too..."
He looks down, embarrassed. "B-but... Y-you said you loved me? If that's t-true, Dave, I want you to, uhh, know that I...I... I love you too."
Time stops. Quite literally, as it tends to do if you suddenly get shocked. He loves you? John "I'm not a homosexual" Egbert who is Karkat Vantas' matesprite loves you? Is it just you, or is there something very wrong with this picture?
"Wait. What?" You shake your head, confused. "What about the whole 'I'm not a homosexual' thing?"
He shrugs, smirking. "I guess I changed my mind..."
"And what about Karkat?" You ask, very sure you didn't want to hear the answer.
John eyes fall, face turning a lovely shade of pink. "We, well, we kinda... broke up? It wasn't working to well, and with Sollux back, I could tell all he wanted was to be with him again. And I realized that I loved someone else... We talked, agreed to stay friends and split up, each going to confess to the one we really loved. That's why I came to find you. It took me hours to find you up here."
"You really love me?" You whisper.
"Yes."
Your lips are on John's in seconds. Oh god, this can't be happening. Could it? You just went from being suicidal to happy as fuck in less than twenty-four hours. This can't be normal. But currently, you don't give a single fuck. Everything is John.
He tastes like chocolate and gushers. Not a bad combination for him. Anywhere else the match would sound, and be, repulsive. But not with John. John is perfect. You feel his hand on your cheek and you lean into it, knowing that this is the best thirty-four seconds of your life.
He pulls back, laughing lightly. "So, I guess this means you still like me?"
You close your eyes and smile, something you haven't done in years. "Only you, John. Only you would break a perfectly touching touché moment with a completely stupid question. Of course I still like you. I've loved you for over four years. And I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. I love you John Egbert."
He smiles his smile: wide, toothy, completely derpy. But so aderpable.
"And I love you, Dave Strider. And I always will."
His eyes widen for a minute, as if he just remembered something important. He looks back at your hidden arms and you realize what he's remembered. Oh.
"Dave, I love you. So, please, please, promise me you wont do these things to yourself anymore. If you're depressed, let us help you. We're all your friends, Dave. You don't have to be alone anymore. I wont let you be alone anymore." He holds your hands tightly in his.
You nod, not knowing what to say. Yes, I know, and I'm sorry. Didn't seem to express what you are feeling, nor what John deserves to hear.
"Thank you John. Thank you for saving me." You pull him into a tight hug.
"You're welcome, Dave." He hugs you back. "I'll always be there for you. You can count on it"
You smile and kiss him again, knowing that no matter what happens next in The Game,
you can take it with John by your side. And, more importantly, you could take the hell that Rose and Jade were sure to put you through.