Hello my dears! Moving Heaven and Earth is done, so back to work on this one I go! Sorry for the wait. It's been almost a YEAR! But here we are! Onto your love! Rai Rai Blue, here's a chapter for yoooou! CanadianCold, glad you enjoyed! KatyBirthdai, all hail the JohnDave! They were my first Homestuck ship! Decimus Yna, sorry for making you wait! lauka, here's an update for you! Bear with the heavy dialogue this chapter, I'm getting back into the swing of things.

I'll Be Alright

(Passion Pit)

[Can you remember ever having any fun? Cause when it's all said and done I always believed we were. but now I'm not so sure, oh oh oh oh oh oh! I drink a gin and take a couple of my pills, and my parade will give you chills! Oh honey don't give me up, oh oh oh oh, I know we've had enough!]

You wake up face down in a pillow, drool crusting around your mouth. You whine and try to roll over but something—better yet someone—is holding you tightly. You blindly try to swat behind you and make him get the hint, but as always, he's tragically still an asshole who doesn't appreciate how much you like sleeping in.

You're Dave Strider, and your stupid husband-to-be is really asking for it.

"Daaaave," John says gently, nosing into your neck again. You grunt in reply and he laughs softly before continuing. "We have to go! Karkat and Gamzee just took a cab to the auto shop and they'll be back soon."

Oh yeah. You totally forgot about the whole road trip thing. For a blissful second, you were back home in your own bed. You lift your head to stare at him, but it's kind of hard since you can't stop squinting from the brightness.

"Shades?" you rasp, closing your eyes tightly. A moment later they're on your face and you try again to glare at John, who, as always, is unaffected. You wonder why the universe even felt the need to create early birds. Probably to make you mad.

"Your bag is already packed," he tells you sweetly. "And I picked out your clothes for you. Also, I got you some coffee from the gas station right down the street. And a donut."

Alright, scratch everything you just said. John is a god and you love him. You grunt again and pry your arm out from under you to tug him back against you. He laughs and comes willingly, snuggling into you as he kisses your nose.

"It's too early to be alive," you say irritably. "Fuck everything before noon. And fuck this trip. Let's just stay here and sleep until the motel people barge in here to make sure we're not dead."

"We can't do that and you know it! You can sleep in the car. I might even let you use me as a pillow if you're nice," John smiles.

"You'll let me use you as a pillow regardless because I'll pitch a fit if you don't."

"Oh, god. No fits. You look like a granddaddy longleg spider when you fling your scrawny arms around."

"Fuck you, if anything I'm a tarantula."

"No, you're a granddaddy longleg. You don't do anything and if someone pulled your leg off it would still twitch around uselessly."

You groan and roll away from him, sighing when he clings to you.

"I want a divorce," you grumble.

"We're not even married yet," he reminds you.

"Then marry me now so I can divorce you. One of the roaches that infest this shitty motel can read our vows."

"That's just silly, Dave. You know roaches can't read."

God, you love him.

"Let's write a strong letter to the school board. No more illiterate roaches 2k15," you say.

"Hmmm. But then they might unionize and take over the world. There's way more roaches than people."

"You know what me and roaches have in common? We're both smart and nocturnal," you huff. "So I'll be just fine if they take over. Morning people like you can just die off one by one."

"You're so sweet. I am constantly reminded why I'm marrying you. And your coffee is getting cold, shitlord. Want me to bring it to you?"

"Yes. What kind of donut did you get me?"

"Apple fritter."

God, you love him.

He gets off the bed and walks out of your line of sight, presumably to get your coffee and donut. Sure enough, less than a moment later he's back beside you. Greedily, you nuzzle into him and reach for your coffee, careful to maneuver it so it doesn't spill and give you third degree burns all over your beautiful face. You look up at him expectantly.

"Feed meeeeee," you whine.

"Dave, really?" he frowns. "You have hands!"

"One of them is holding my coffee and the other one is warm under the covers. Feed meeeeee."

"Ugh, you're so fucking dramatic."

"If you love me, you'll feed me."

He makes a face and unwraps your fritter, holding it in front of you. You lean forward and take a generous bite, making a pleased noise from the taste.

"Mmm, that tastes like Jesus," you hum. He rolls his eyes at you.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," he reprimands.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," you mimic, still talking with your mouth full.

"Feed yourself, asshole!" he says, though he makes no effort to stop holding your donut for you.

"It tastes better when you hold it for me," you inform him. "Your Egbert taste is contagious."

"That sounds disgusting," he frowns.

"Nah, you're gourmet babe."

He grins and steals a bite of your donut. You make an indignant noise and snatch it from him, cradling it like a precious commodity.

"Oh, look. You can hold it yourself," he mocks through his bite of pilfered apple fritter.

"Don't talk with you mouth full!" you hiss.

After inhaling your donut and drinking your coffee, you try to burrow back under the blankets but John isn't having it. He pokes you in that special spot in your ribs that makes you flail around aimlessly, only trying to get away from him. You topple into the floor, and you make it a point to pull your shades down so he gets the full extent of your glare, not that it matters because he always gets a less intense version of it than everyone else. The bastard smiles at you and rolls off the bed on top of you, giggling as he kisses you.

"You taste like sugar," he says.

"You taste like asshole. And not the good kind," you grunt, trying to deepen the kiss. He swats you.

"Go brush your teeth and get ready! You're gonna make Karkat blow a gasket!"

"He was born with a fuckin' gasket blown, Jesus, we all know that," you sigh, moving from under him to go to the bathroom. You think a lot about the fact that a good chunk of your day is spent trying to make yourself "presentable". How much easier would life be if you could walk around in your boxers with your hair in its natural state? Man, you'd save at least twenty minutes a day. You could crank out three new comics in that time.

You're running your hands through your hair when you feel a pair of arms behind you, wrapping around your waist. John grins at you in the mirror and nuzzles into the back of your shoulder.

"God, you're cute," you say. "Sometimes I forget you're cute 'cause you're the epitome of evil wrapped in a pair of dorky glasses and stupid T-shirts. Seriously, babe, who the fuck walks around in a 'Las Vegas' shirt when they've never even seen Las Vegas?"

"I've seen it," he says. "Sometimes it's on T.V."

"You're the reason bald people lose their hair."

"You're the reason I think chicken legs are attractive."

"Okay," you huff, turning to face him, "I do not have chicken legs. I grew out of the fuckin' chicken leg stage."

"Oh please, Dave, I see them all the time in their scrawny lanky glory. You are literally like a stretched out Chicken Little. Or Big Bird."

"I honestly hope one day when I leave you from all this abuse you go to KFC and cry big tears when you see a bucket of chicken legs. I hope it hurts you."

"It so will. I'll think of you every time I bite into a drumstick."

"That's all I want out of life."

He laughs, pulling you into another kiss, and this time he lets you deepen it. You lean against the counter and pull him close to you, your hands moving down to his ass. You enjoy the little squeak he makes as he attempts to practically climb you in his effort to get closer.

"Dave," he whispers, and you groan as you pull his hips to yours.

"We have time?" you breathe, rocking against him again. His eyelids flutter and he gasps softly.

"I...I don't know...maybe?" he pulls your mouth to his, whining into yours as your pace increases.

You're just about to unzip his jeans when someone literally bursts through the door, moving in a warpath toward the dingy motel bathroom the two of you are in.

"Put your fucking clothes on and come on, we've got a lot of road to cover and no time to cover it in." Karkat barges into the bathroom and glares at the two of you as if daring you to complain. As always, you're quick to answer his call.

"Go fuck yourself, you knee high dipshit, can't you see some of us are tryin' to put the moves on hot little John?"

"How about I shove my foot so far up your nonexistent ass that you turn into one of those puppets you hate so much? Hurry the fuck up, chicken legs, you're the only one not dressed."

"I do not have chicken legs!" you shout after him as he leaves the room. John sighs as he wilts into your chest, kissing over your heart.

"Guess we didn't have the time after all," he says.

"There's always time. It's just that Karkat is a cockblocking fuckstick."

"Be nice!" he reminds you, going to fetch your clothes he picked out for you. He watches you pull them on with a frown. "Really though, Dave, you do look skinnier."

"I swear to god if this is a scrawny joke—"

"It's not. You really look too skinny." He gives you a stern look. "You've been working too hard!"

"Oh, look who's talking! Both of us have been living off canned food for like, a year. You're lookin' pretty tiny yourself, Mr. Stays-Up-All-Night-Studying-Till-He-Passes-Out."

He points his finger at you. "When we get home, I'm teaching you how to cook. This is unacceptable. You're about to be a famous director and your cooking ability amounts to you heating up Chef Boyardee in the microwave!"

For a moment, all you can do is stare wordlessly at him.

"Don't you ever badmouth the Chef in my presence," you say, shocked at John's complete disregard of the perfection that is Chef Boyardee. He rolls his eyes at you.

"You're learning to cook and that's final."

"Fine, whatever, but I'm havin' the Chef when I feel like it. That's my right as a grown man."

"My right as a grown man is to slap you. You're ridiculous!"

"Slap me then, Egbert. I'm being persecuted for my love of Chef Boyardee. I'll go down as a martyr. My cheek will be the holy ground where this slap takes place and will be written in history as sanctioned land where one lone man decided his love for junk food took place over his own well-being. They'll write books about me."

He groans at you and leaves the room, dragging both of your bags with him, and you stand at the mirror, wondering if your cowlick will go down if you put water on it. It doesn't. If anything the water just makes it angry.

You walk out to the car, Karkat and Gamzee shoving their bags in the trunk before they turn to observe you.

"You look like you didn't even sleep," Karkat says, slamming the trunk.

"Gotta get that REM cycle, bro," Gamzee says. "Be needin' them Z's once you're behind the wheel."

"Yeah, I think we can all agree I won't be driving till I nap," you grumble. "Blame John, he kept me up."

"I did not!" John squawks indignantly, poking his head out of the door to the motel office. He comes out to stand beside you and pokes you in the chest. "You were the one who was all 'no John we have time'."

"I don't sound like that," you say, waving him off. "And it was your fault because your ass was enticing me."

"Jesus, get in the fucking car," Karkat hisses. He climbs in the driver seat and you're actually more than willing to sit in the back with John and nap this early demon morning away. The sun is actually so bright and cheerful that it sickens you. It's mocking you. Stupid glowing fire sphere.

"So what was wrong with the car?" John asks as he moves to sit beside you.

"Basically something with my battery terminals corroding through and draining my starter. I don't know, the guy talked like an ostrich and I tried not to listen." Karkat puts on some soul crunching music and you groan loudly.

"You're gonna make the car kill itself with this music," you say, and John pinches your thigh.

"I'm going to kill you if you don't stop the infernal rambling you tend to do when you think we care what you have to say."

You lean against John and close your eyes, trying to block out the sound of Nicki Minaj. Next thing you know, you're being jostled by John, who's giving you a sweet smile.

"Wake up, Sleepy Beauty!" he says quietly. "We're getting lunch, do you want anything?"

You stretch and sit up, noticing you're in a Burger King drive thru. Your stomach growls accordingly at the prospect of food.

"God, just get me twenty Whoppers," you moan.

"How about one Whopper," John says.

"With fries. I demand fries. And a Coke."

"Water is healthier," John says.

"Water is for mermaids. I'm getting a fucking Coke."

Karkat turns to look at you. "Just let him clog every artery he has so we can be without his stifling presence sooner, Egbert."

You kick his seat and he tries to lunge at you.

"Uh...so a Whopper combo?" the scratchy voice of the drive thru speaker asks.

"With a Coke!" you yell, and John swats you as you move over him to the window.

As the car pulls forward you turn to him. "So what'd you get?"

"A salad," he frowns accusingly.

"Weak," you say, leaning back against your seat. "If I'm eating fast food I'm eating the right kind of fast food."

"The stuff that kills you tastes the best," Gamzee nods sagely, pulling around the building. "Be getting my motherfuckin' grub on with that murderous deliciousness."

"God, as long as you don't drink Faygo every ten minutes, I'm happy for you," Karkat says. "If you have any teeth left in the next ten years, it'll be a goddamn miracle."

"I'll have all my teeth, bro. Wicked elixir doesn't rot your bones, it makes 'em stronger."

"Explain that to me, please. Explain to me how bottled sugar is going to make your teeth stronger. I want an essay."

"I can't explain it any more than I can explain the sunrise, best friend. Some things just happen, you feel? It's what makes the world a beautiful place."

"Sunrises have been explained since the end of the fucking dark ages, you sphincter sucking anal belch," Karkat huffs, handing him his debit card. "You fuckers can pay me back in cash. Now, in case you were wondering."

You watch as John reaches into your pocket and grabs your wallet. You grumble and lift your hips for him so he can grab it easier.

"Gold digger," you comment.

"Oh, don't even. You know I don't carry cash," he says.

The guy hands Gamzee your big bag of food, and you're feeling particularly ravenous by the time you receive your burger. Once you get the damn thing unwrapped you eat almost half of it in one bite, and John is looking at you as if he'd like nothing more than to throw you outside of the car.

"Cool it, Dr. Eggbuns," you tell him. "Once we're home you can put me on a diet of your healthy rabbit food. For now, I'm all about this burger. You better be glad burgers don't last long in my presence or I'd be marrying it instead of you."

"I would love to see you marry food. You'd never be able to pick just one to marry, you know. You're too much of a food whore." John bites daintily into his salad. "I'm just saying."

"Food loves me right," you agree.

"And yet your ass looks like you haven't eaten since 1942," Karkat mutters from the front seat.

"His ass is just the right size!" John defends before you can comment. "Perfect hand size."

"Yeah, for your lady piano hands," Karkat says.

"Better than your grubby little hands," you say.

Finally, after an hour, you move up to the passenger seat while John drives. You roll the window down and stick your head out, letting the wind blow your hair everywhere. It's way better than staying inside of the crammed up little car full of assholes. And it's not like your hair will suffer any consequences, since you don't have John's rat nest of hair to worry about. And now that you're up here, you're playing good music. Goddamn, life is grand right now.

"What the fuck is this?" Karkat asks after a few minutes.

"Dude, how did you live all these years and not know who Rage Against the Machine is?" you scoff. "Too buried in your pop, I guess."

"Suck my dick, Strider, I've been listening to music, not some angry man yelling at me."

"Because you like being the one yelling and get pissy when someone else tries to do it."

He kicks your seat, but you're distracted by a message. You pick up your phone and you're instantly relieved when you see it's only Jade and not every other jerk in your phone messaging you about wedding plans.

-gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 14:16-

GG: hey dave! :D

TG: sup

GG: how goes the road trip? are you bonding?

TG: no were pretty much doing the opposite of bonding but hey if it makes you happy to think of all of us hugging it out then be my guest

GG: i cant really imagine karkat hugging anyone...do you think he hugs sollux?

TG: i think they do way more than hug harley get with the times here

TG: but then again i imagine karkat to be kind of a spideresque creature and he probably kills after mating so since sollux is alive lets assume they havent done anything aside from awkwardly staring at each other

GG: but sollux is sick! it could be a part of karkats master plan!

TG: oh shit youre right

TG: well damn say goodbye to sollux

GG: are you guys at karkats parents house yet

TG: nah we had car trouble so now were like 12 hours behind

GG: dave! D: what if you dont make it back in time for the wedding! rose will KILL you!

TG: she wont kill me because were gonna make it in time okay just chill

GG: if you say so...i tried messaging john but he didnt answer

TG: hes driving and hes like a one man parade of road safety

TG: and heart health apparently

GG: oh good! okay ill pester him later about my wedding concerns because no offense dave but youre useless at this stuff!

TG: no offense taken its my aim to be as useless as is humanly possible

-gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 14:21-

"Was that Jade?" John asks you as soon as you're putting your phone back in your pocket. "She's been trying to pester me but I can't answer."

"Yeah, she was bothering me," you say. "It's all anyone ever does."

"Oh, poor baby," John coos. "Your life is so hard."

"She was wondering if we'd make it in time for the wedding."

John fidgets in his seat and looks pointedly at the road.

"Well...we should," he mumbles. "I hope so."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. If we don't we can like...reschedule."

"We can't do that! We've rented that place and everyone took time out of their lives to come all the way here and Dad took off work and then you've got the media—" John's gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. You reach over and pry his hand off the wheel to wrap it in yours.

"Hey, shhhhh, calm down. It's our wedding. We can do whatever the fuck we want, okay?" You squeeze his hand. "It's alright."

He bites his lip and looks at you. "Do you mean that?" he asks softly.

"I don't give a fuck about anyone but you. You should know that by now. I mean, yeah I love Jade and Rose too, and I guess I'm contractually obligated to love Dirk in the way one loves a parasite they can't get rid of, but you're the only one who's mine. So just chill, it'll all work out."

He nods and gives you a small smile. He starts to say something else, but then Gamzee snores loudly from the backseat and interrupts your little moment.

At the next gas station, John pulls over and you climb over into the driver's seat while he roams around to the passenger side. Both Karkat and Gamzee are asleep now, and John curls up like he's tired too. You turn your music down and enjoy the peace for a while as the sun starts to go down. Unfortunately, Karkat wakes up soon after.

"Fuck," he mumbles from the back, stretching until his joints pop. "We're almost there."

"How the fuck can you tell? It's just a shit ton of trees," you reply.

"Because my stomach is trying to eat itself, that's how. It's the feeling of home, I guess."

"Huh. Do you like, want me to stop somewhere and get us some more food? It'll buy you some time, at least."

"No, just keep going. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get this over with." He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat and wish John would wake up. He's the one who's good at this shit, not you.

"I don't really like, get it," you say after a minute. "I don't really have family, aside from Dirk, and you've seen how well we get along. But I feel how shitty this has to be. At least you're dealing with it instead of running away, though."

"Yeah," he says, looking anywhere but at you. "And you suck at this, by the way."

"Fuck you."

You follow his directions until you pull outside of a yellow two story house with a chimney and three cars parked out front. You put the car in park and reach over to shake John awake. He snorts and blinks blearily up at you.

"We there?" he mutters, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah," Karkat answers for you, opening his door. "Let's get this over with."

[Well you should go if you want to. Yeah, go if you want to. I'll be alright! Be alright!]

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