Heya again my beautiful readers.

I've been really inspired with this fic so expect it to actually be updated and hopefully concluded *fingers crossed*

This is a tad shorter than the previous chapter, along with being from a more direct POV so yet again feedback will be much loved as I'm experimenting with shit with this yadda yadda.

Shout out to WoahWaitWhat and TotallyCapriciousFaygoFag for your reviews. My love goes out to you especially my lovelies.

Can't wait to bring Gamzee into this personally, but shit needs to be set up before Karkles' bestest bro in the world makes his appearance.


You're Dave Strider.

After an emotionally taxing day of watching a friend jump of the roof of your school and comforting two of said friend's closest acquaintances, you were ready to just be by your lonesome.

Walking into the flat that you shared with your brother, you weren't even put on edge by the lack of smuppet assault. Instead, you grabbed one of the ever present cans of beer from the fridge and headed on towards the lounge area.

You don't know how long it was til you registered your brother's presence, when you did though, he non-chalontly wrapped his arms around your now trembling shoulders, pulling you to his broad chest. He didn't comment on the tears, or choked sobs, instead going about being the pillar of support he'd always been for you.

Every time you tried to speak, he shushed you, pulling you closer as a fresh wave of emotions swept over you. This was how you spent your evening.

Come the following morning, you opened unshaded eyes, recognising that you were on the couch rather than your bed, you fumbled around on the floor, searching for your shades. Upon hearing your search, Bro walked into the room, hand submerged in cereal box. Finding them, you put them on, taking comfort in the wall, security, they put up between you and the world. Taking a few shaky breaths, you turned to 'meet' Bro's gaze.

"You cool little man?" he asked, trying to blow of concern with an air of indifference. You shrug, doing your best to build up the façade you wore everywhere, attempting to pull it together after it had shattered the prior evening.

With a sigh, he sat next to you, shoving the Lucky Charms to your chest. You stared down into the staple food group, contemplating whether to take a handful or not. The silence dragged on.

"He looked so defeated," you let out, eyes fixed on one of the pink marshmallow hearts, "yet he looked so content, like he knew that he had to do it and he was happy about the outcome." Slamming down the un-sampled box, "Why would he do that, why." You turned to look at Bro, "Didn't he think, how dare he, how fucking dare he." You finished, Bro having pulled you into a tight embrace, only now were you aware of the warm tracks worming down your face.

"There is always a reason little man," squeezing you extra tight, "You just need to find and understand it." He finished, loosening his grip as you managed to pull yourself together. He ruffled your hair before standing, "You just chill at home today, 'kay Squirt. I don't think anyone will blame you for not rocking up today." He finished a half-hearted smirk on his face.

You nod, flicking on the TV and immersing yourself into whatever was showing on MTV, it looked like one of those reclusive music videos, what luck as Bro went about getting ready for whatever he did during the day. As he went to leave, he paused at the room's entrance, before coming over, pulling you into another one of his hugs, this time placing a kiss to your forehead, "Love you little dude." And before you knew it, he'd vacated the premises. Leaving you in stunned silence, not too familiar with all the sentiment and affection he'd bestowed upon you in such a short while.

At some point during the day, your phone went off. Skimming through on of Egbert's notorious essay texts, you knew that word about Karkat had spread throughout the entirety of the school, along with a whole plethora of theories and adaptations of the actual events, some going as far as to say that Dave was the one to push to push the introvert off the ledge.

Though he didn't go up and say it, you could tell that John was worried, and probably in as much shock as everyone else. You sent him a brief message, assuring him that you didn't push anyone with a temper to match their height of any buildings, and that you were as chill as ever, trying your best to not let how shaken up you were show in the message.

After sending it, you threw your phone to the floor, curling into a ball, hands tangled in your hair, attempting to hold in the screams and cries wanting to burst forth from your chest. As much as you wanted to, you didn't, no, couldn't, coz you're a fucking Strider, and fucking Strider's are the epitome of cool and don't have breakdowns or cry or scream or do anything that betrays what they're really feeling.

You sit on the couch, curled up into your-self, and do everything that a Strider isn't.