You are Dave Strider, eighteen years old. An incidental seven years ago, you'd met one of your three closest friends over the internet. It had been pretty lame way back then; incidentally, eleven year olds didn't have very much to talk about. Or at least, not much that actually held any significance to anything whatsoever to life. You can still embarrassingly recall a time you'd found a gecko and caught it in a coffee can, and you and John had spent literally near three hours together going back and forth to name the damn thing.

The conversation had descended into the lizard's gender, and in your attempt to check, you'd lost it. You'd whined to your brother, then, about how Sticky got away.

But that moment in your life was about as relevant now as that stupid, cheesy love song that you'd despised with the white hot intensity of a thousand burning suns some time two years ago, that thank God had stopped airing on the radio as far as you knew.

Currently, you reside in the old apartment that had belonged to you and your older brother. Now it was yours, all yours, and you still couldn't get a grasp for that. John had suggested revamping the decorations, give the flat your own touch. You'd considered it, really, and you'd tried. But then you'd ended up curled up in a ball in his bedroom, clutching one of his godforsaken smuppets to your chest, and as much as you hated to admit it, you'd spent the rest of the day laying in the middle of the floor, sobbing.

The only thing that stopped you was the fact you could practically hear him after the tears had dried up, and you'd shivered there a snivelling mess. Telling you that a Strider was stronger than that. That a Strider was cooler. And seeing how you had always taken every little thing he'd ever said to heart, you'd eventually calmed down, coiled up around Lil Cal ( as much as he still horrified you ), and burrowed up in his blankets for the rest of the night.

You'd waken up this morning feeling like absolute shit. Your biggest hope now was that one of your friends could make everything better. Your first choice had actually been Rose. You're not sure why she'd been your first choice, because in retrospect, you couldn't have made a worse choice.

A quick text to her to ask her how her morning was had ended up in some vaguely heated debate that you didn't really give a shit about anymore. You were in too much of a metaphorical hurricane of emotions over everything else to even try to muster up half a shit for it.

Now, as you dialed in John's number, you wonder if he'll be too busy to talk to you. Sometimes he was. Now that Karkat was living with him, you found that even when he was online, his messages were a lot shorter. More brief. He had college - you did, too, of course, but ... - and he had an alien to look after. And from how things sounded from Karkat, it was more than that.

... Worth a shot. You couldn't lose anything else at this point. Fuck.

Me: uh hey bro are you busy right now
Me: or like can you call me
egbert: uh? yeah, sure, bro, hold on.
egbert: i'm talking to karkat right now, i guess he found a pregnancy book ...
egbert: i'll call you in like two minutes, okay? :)

Of course you're talking to Karkat. Of course he found something stupid you need to explain to him. This is like the third time something like this has happened already ... God, I need to get off of this and get on with my fucking life.

As you shift in the blankets, you let your iPhone fall into the nest of fluff and rainbow fabric of your brother's smuppets, and wonder briefly if you should take up that offer from the weird guy in your photography class. Sure, he was kind of creepy, and he always seemed to be looking for cheap excuses to talk to you, but if everything flopped, at least you'd have someone to bitch to outside of John for a week. Not to mention, he actually seemed to have a grasp on ASL. You didn't like to use it, but, there were a few times when you couldn't be assed to pull out your phone and threw out a few vague hand signs, and he'd managed to -

Bzzt. You lower your gaze from the picture you hadn't realized it had been fixated on across the room, and try to find the phone again. It takes about three more buzzes, but you get it, and answer the call. You don't even have to tap against the device anymore for John to know when you're on the other line.

" Hey, Dave! " His voice is perky, but you know there's more underneath he's trying to bury. He must be in a bad mood right now, too. ... Maybe it's not the best idea to go unloading everything onto him, either. Fuck, again.

You hesitate, and you know he's waiting for you to respond. Then you bring your free hand up against the phone, and your fingers tap delicately against the screen. It was stupid, slow, and sometimes it confused John if he missed something or mistranslated, but sometimes you just liked to hear his phone, and texting wasn't enough. You didn't know what else to do.

Hey. How's shit?

There was so much more you wanted to relay. If you could you'd spend hours tapping away against the screen, fighting back the stinging tears again. You'd go on longer than you did before, you'd tell John absolutely everything. He knew now your absolutely broken resolve over never seeing your brother again. But there was so much more than that ...

" Uhm, it's okay, I guess? " John's voice acted like a cup of boiling water against the ice cube that was your thoughts. The second he responded, everything you've been musing over in the subconscious part of your brain seemed to crackle to a halt.

" I mean ... I might have to drop out of one of my classes. It's getting to be a little too much, you know? I was okay with the part - time job at the coffee stand when it was just me, but with Karkat here, it's ... so much harder to scrape the money together for everything I need. I think I might just move back in with my dad ... "

You feel a twinge at that last part. Somehow, John knew it.

" Uh, I ... Sorry. " He stumbled over his own words, flustered and uncertain.

It's okay. You wait a moment, then continue. Forget it. So?

" ... Heheh. Uh, well, that's all, really. " He's squirming on his end of the line, and you can hear it. " I mean, I guess that's all I have to complain about. ... Except maybe Karkat finding that book. " He sighs, and you imagine him slouching over his patio table, and pressing his cheek against it, and glaring at nothing. You're not sure if that's what he's actually doing, but it makes you smile, just a little bit.

" Hey, so ... " Silence. " I've been wonderin' ... " And now the silence is broken. For whatever reason, those words incite something akin to a mini - heart attack. It's these times you're glad you can't talk. Jesus Christ, you know your voice would be cracking, and you'd probably even stutter a little yourself. Striders never stutter. Hell to the no.

When he doesn't say anything, you decide to get him to stop stalling. It's not doing your mental health any good here. ... Yeah?

" Oh! " He sounds genuinely startled. What? " Uhm. Right. ... Do you think ... " He trails off again. Jegus Christ, Egbert - " ... you'd mind some roommates? I ... I mean, it's totally okay, i - if that's a lot to ask. "

... ... Uh. ... What?

" Well, it's just ... with the money being a little tight here, I've been thinking of moving. And since I kind of have to drop out of one of the more important classes I'm taking right now ... I can kind of transfer over a little easier to another school. ... I mean, it's not cool, it's fine, but - "

Yeah. Sure.

" ... Huh? ... Sorry, uhm. Could you, uh, slow down, Dave? I have, like ... no idea what you just s ... "

When he trails off, you can't help but smirk. Very faintly. But it's only the third time in a week, so you'll take it. ' Said ' wasn't exactly a word anyone could use with you. And John was still adjusting to that fact. You calm yourself down a little as you repeat the patterned tapping.

" ... Really? It's okay? " Now it's his turn to be excited. But this is John Egbert you're talking about. Of course he's going to be excited. He got excited over a salamander that blew bubbles. It's not a surprise.

No shit.

You almost feel bad, giving such short responses. Usually, that was reserved for when you were just too cool to give a shit about what was going on. This was not one of those situations. As long as you laid out the ground rules ( Don't touch any of Bro's stuff, don't fucking touch Bro's stuff, Bro's room is off limits even if I'm in there, and don't touch Bro's fucking stuff) then things should work out okay. Even with Karkat there.

... Even if you had to watch those two get cozy.

" ... G - Geez, thanks, Dave, I ... "

Yeah, yeah.

So your initial reason for calling him would have to wait. That was fine, too. You were kind of really excited for this. It didn't make everything else okay, no. You don't think that will ever be okay. ... But it made it hurt a little less.

" ... Thanks. Really. "

" Are you off the fucking phone yet? " Karkat's voice. You're actually a little bit taken back by it. It sounds more ... feminine than you thought? ... And gravelly. Huh. ... And he even has a bit of a twinge on his words that you can't quite name an accent for.

" Erm, sorry. Discussing something with Dave, and it's kind of important - "

" Thisis important, too. "

John sounds exasperated. " ... Uh, heh, sorry, Dave. Give me a second, would you ... ? "

You shrug, realize it can't really be noticed, then tap a quick ' okay, ' and listen as the phone is set down, and the voices become muffled and hard to make out. You half - wonder what they're talking about.

... How's it feel, Bro?you wonder absently. You don't have much else to do, other than to let your mind wander. You bring your hand up to rub at your eyes. They're itchy, stingy, and puffy from the crying you did before. ... And in the back of your mind, you conjure up the familiar feel of Bro's gloved hand closing over yours, and taking over.

... Is it true what they say? Do you really see your life flash before your eyes? ... How much of it was us? What parts? ... Not those stupid faces I always make, right? ... God.

You don't really notice the phone slipping out of your hand, and gliding down the smooth fabric of the pillowcase, because you're more occupied by the arm snaking around your waist. You feel an overwhelming wave of exhaustion slap you in the face as a firm body that is only too familiar eases up against your back.

" ... Which stupid faces might those be, Little Man?"

You laugh, breathlessly. Always such a dick,wasn't he? You know he knows exactly which ones you meant, but you answer anyway, signing the letters in a bit of a rush against his forearm. They're sloppy, and you wonder if he'll even catch any of it. But, then ... He always did. Always.

When you end up sliding off the couch, and think you're all sneaky, getting down there between my knees ...

A small grin lights up your features when he laughs, but he waits for you to continue before he says anything.

... and then before I even got a chance, your mouth is already there, and I'm already all fucking hot and hard, and you know just the right fucking amount of tongue, and the perfect balance with your teeth, and I just ...

" Oh, yeah. That. " His smirk is fucking audible and it's perfect, and you've never felt more anxious to hear your big brother's voice. " Sorry, afraid so. Quite a few flashes of that, too. Don't regret a fucking second of it, though, Dave? "

Huh?

When had you fallen asleep? ... Where was- ...

... Oh. ... Right ...

You grope around in the blankets, fingers fumbling uncertainly until you find the phone, then you tap a very quick sorry." ... Oh. Haha, sorry, uhm. ... Is it okay if I call you back, bro? I guess Karkat's just confusing himself a whole lot more, now, and I kinda need to take that book away from him, but he won't let me ... So, I'm gonna go talk to him about this, if you don't mind. "

Yeah, it's okay. Later, Rabbert.

" Ugh. Not funny, Strider. "

You snort, then hang up. You watch the screen for awhile afterward, until the backlight goes out and you're certain he won't text you or call back or something before rolling over, and curling up into a small ball. Maybe, just maybe, if you fall asleep again fast enough, you'll feel his arms around you again, hear his voice as he whispers soothing nothings into your ear. Maybe he'll sing to you like he used to, and everything will be okay again ...

a/n - sorry for the sudden stridercentric chapter. back to your regularly scheduled johnkat next chapter, broskis. if you want more striderbbus, i'll throw in some more later, just ask? haha. layturzz.