It's early fall, which means the best apples are in season. One time, in school, Dave's teacher brought in an apple pie for the class. She was a sweet old lady that treated every kid in her class like a grandchild. Once, Dave had a bruise and cut on his face, dirty, from the morning strife before school. He didn't know how to clean his cuts, Bro never showed him, they usually got infected, but his body's immune system would take care of it eventually, not before a fuck ton of pain though. She saw the cut on his face, and took him to the nurse's office, the nurse wasn't in so his teacher kindly cleaned the wound with water and then antiseptic, blowing on the cut when he flinched in pain. "My, most kids cry and complain when this happens."

"It's not that bad."

"You're a strong boy." It had taken everything he had not to cry at her words. It wasn't just her words, but her tone. A sort of loving pride for a kid that wasn't even her own. The first kind words he had ever heard. She asked him what had happened to earn him the mark on his face. He couldn't tell her. He was too ashamed. Worried at that young age of eight, that she wouldn't think he was strong anymore, she wouldn't be proud of him anymore if she knew he got because he lost a fight with his Bro. So, he lied, saying he fell from the stairs in front of his complex. He showed her his elbows and knees, scraped and slightly bleeding from the same strife, to prove his lie. She cleaned those as well. Hugging him when he started crying (which he cursed himself over, he wanted to be tough). Looking back, she probably thought he was crying because of the antiseptic…he was crying because he didn't know how to handle the kindness. Apple juice appeared in her hand, told him to cheer up. He hadn't had apple juice before, only orange soda and water. It tasted so much better than the carbonated beverage. Like a shield that protected him from the inside out.

He doesn't know when Bro realized he had been taking bottles of the drink from the teacher. He started buying them though. Told him to stop bringing them home. Probably afraid of people asking questions. It killed him to turn down that kind old woman's offer. It would destroy him if he accepted it though. She understood when he told her his Bro wouldn't let him take them anymore.

The next week, she brought in an apple pie for his birthday. She didn't announce this to the entire class, but with his piece of pie, she gave him one of those archeology kits for kids. The kind where you practice digging up and sifting through a box of dirt with your brush and tools. This was given to him at the end of class though, along with a kind note.

Dave,

I've noticed you have an interest in archeology and anthropology. You're a bright kid, I know whatever bullies you have to face may make you feel stupid. Don't believe them! You'll go far. Enjoy the kit and this recipe for the apple pie! Maybe your brother can make it for you sometime.

She knew he was lying about his injuries. At the time he was convinced his brother was the best person and often reiterated that to his classmates. She must have assumed…

Regardless, he always kept that recipe with him. Somehow it made it through everything he had gone through for over these three years. And now that he was finally at peace, with a loving boyfriend and friends…no, a family….a family that everyone had made together. He wanted to make the pie and share it.

Karkat didn't know the significance of making the pie, but he was willing to help Dave. Promising this time to abide by the recipe. The recipe itself was old and beaten up from being looked at so many times, the events of the game didn't help either. It was still legible though.

Dave got to work chopping the apples. Dave hand been practicing. Successfully chopping, peeling, and coring ten apples in a half an hour…Karkat helped too (unlike Dave he hadn't been practicing). Dave managed to successfully create the filling without any issue. The biggest problem came from the pie dough. He made it according to instructions and let it chill in the fridge. However, now, as he was trying to roll it out, it was sticking to everything. The counter, the rolling pin, his hands. "Kitkat, can you look at the recipe please? My hands are doughy and I don't want to ruin it."

"Sure" Karkat proceeded to list the steps, Dave mentally checking everything off as he went.

"Coat the counter with dough." Of course! He forgot that! He quickly grabbed the flour doing his best to gather the dough up and off the counter top. Placing a heavy coating of flour that also drifted to the stove top, which was still hot from mixing the filling and filled the space with a burning smell. Dave ignored it while Karkat opened the window. More flour, which spilled onto the floor and himself, but he didn't care. This was going to work! He place the dough back onto the now overly floured surface and tried again. The dough was still sticking to everything. Frustrated he looked over at Karkat who readily read more of the instructions.

"The dough may be a bit wet, this can prevent it from rolling out properly. If this happens, add a small amount of flour onto the top of it and to the rolling pin."

Dave did as instructed, and it was working! The dough was rolling out! Dave enthusiastically continued. Not paying attention to thickness of the crust. He made it so thin, it was see through. The human didn't notice though, and Karkat didn't know anything about cooking, so he went along with it. Dave proudly put the heavily floured, slightly cracking, see-through dough in the pan. Starting on the top of the pie. Which met a similar fate. Dave then poured the filling into the pie to the very top, filling already threatening to spill out the sides, and placed the top over it. Cutting the proper holes and pinching the edges to seal (as best he could) the insides. He popped it in the oven for the set amount of time.

About 75-80 minutes later he returned to the kitchen taking in a deep breath, only to panic. The kitchen window had been left open and he had gone into a far room, so he didn't notice the smoke. He rushed, grabbing the oven mitts and pulled his pie from the oven. It didn't look pretty, but it wasn't burned at all. There was a ton of filling seeping over the sides though. He checked the oven, filling all around the bottom of it, looking like a cinnamon tar mess.

As for the pie itself…it wasn't in the best shape. The top had fallen in a little, half sunk into apple concoction. He wanted desperately to check the rest of it, but knew he had to wait a bit for it to cool.

About 30 minutes later he cut the pie. The crust was too thin and couldn't support the rest of the slice. Despite this, it was still a little gummy. Next time he should follow the suggestion in the recipe for prebaking the crust. That said…it wasn't horrible. Nothing was burnt, the filling was actually pretty good, and while the crust needed some work, it was still pretty good. He couldn't share this one with his friends, but if he practiced a little, maybe he could take it to the Christmas party this year.

Karkat soon appeared in the kitchen, tasting the pie. He raved about it. Even after Dave asked him to stop the bullshit. He said he was serious and that that he loved it. Starting to eat out of the pan before Dave made him get a plate. Yeah…maybe he could share this with his friends soon.

Notes: The writing wasn't great this chapter, I just couldn't get it to work with me.

Eddieisagirl: Thanks! It's good to be back!

Linda065cliva: Glad you liked it!

Hikary Sanoko: I happy to hear you liked it! I was actually worried that the bickering my have wandered into OOC territory, so I glad it didn't read that way!