Chapter Text
John and Sollux aren't very far away from Tavros, and in an instant Dave is reunited with his oldest friends.
They laugh and shout and ruffle each other's hair and end up sitting huddled around the lantern Eqiuus managed to get going again.
There's a lot to say, and yet not so much.
They trade stories, taunt and argue; Dave shows them around.
They all take to Karkat immediately, to Dave's mock disgust.
"Why. Why do my friends always desert me."
"Maybe your friends have better taste than you, Strider." Karkat says snidely. John doubles over laughing.
Dave feels strangely proud, has to stop himself from latching on to Karkat like he always feels like doing.
Sollux and Eridan start bickering from the moment they lay eyes on each other, and Dave is going to make them pay for all the married couple jokes he's had to endure from them (both about John and Karkat).
Tavros is still endearingly shy and awkward, but he somehow gets Eqiuus talking mechanics, so in the end Dave ends up between John and Karkat, and as their voices intertwine and float off into the skies, he feels alarmingly at home.
Safe, almost.
Happy? Perhaps.
Of course, that's basically him signing away all his luck, because let's face it- fate was never on the Strider's side for long.
And he was meant to remember that.
He thinks back, later, and wonders if the chilly breeze that made them stand up at last wasn't some sort of warning from beyond the grave, Dirk's serious eyes the glinting metal of the lantern he carried away.
Remember what happened to me.
He’s always been the worst of the four at heeding warnings.
–---
They have a few more weeks of this little paradise Dave's made for himself in hell ("of course dave would be at his happiest in a war, like some bloody knight" john laughs. "hey, karkat's worse than me" dave answers, dodging the bullet) before a strange tension arises.
It's one of those inexplicable moods everyone has, where they don't know what exactly it is yet, but they know that something's going to happen.
Sollux and Dave exchange tired, knowing glances when they hear that there are orders coming.
The orders come the first day of the second month: Dave sees Jake Harley for the first time in forever, looking terribly worn out despite his well-kept appearance.
He clears his throat, raises his chin, and announces: "Troops! The British army has just transmitted a message- they'll be conducting an operation not too far from here, that could be the key to success here in Gallipoli. It is therefore imperative for us to attack the Turks to put in place an attack on two fronts, ensuring the Brits' success further north!"
A disbelieving rumble of voices rises from the troops. They've been here too long to think this is going to be a glorious attack.
"Does this British operation stand a chance at all?" Eridan asks, tone scathing.
"Well", Jake starts, "It certainly seems our best option at the moment."
High Officer Scratch, the British commander that supervises them, nods serenely from next to him.
Bitter laughter.
"We're going to get slaughtered as a distraction, aren't we?" Dave says harshly, his voice clear and loud. He raises his eyes to meet Jake's green ones.
Jake flinches, false cheer disappearing.
Before he can speak, General Harley has taken over, booming voice reassuring. "Nonsense, my boy! On the contrary! We all know-"
But by now it is too late. They've all seen the look on Jake's face.
The troops stay quiet, seething with anger, until the General leaves, accompanied by Scratch, who's probably hoping for another promotion.
"Tomorrow, the first wave. Four o' clock sharp. Then Tuesday. We'll be putting up the lists."
The troops explode.
"SENT OFF TO OUR BLOODY DEATHS-"
"They can't make us do this, it's bloody incredible-"
"Surely you can stop them-"
"THE BASTARDS-"
Not a single one of them turns on Harley. His broken expression make it clear to anyone asking that if he had his way he'd already be shipping them all back home to safety.
Dave feels an unstoppable hatred rise in him, for these British officers and their heartlessness, these Europeans and their bloody war, for these murderers in their comfy castles sending all this youth away to die for nothing at all.
He remembers Bro telling him he'd explode one day if he didn't put a lid on his anger, but this is much worse than that, because this isn't a great roaring lion of an anger, this is a black poison that pulls him down and fills his veins with a dark loathing.
He knows already, he knows, of course he knows, that it won't help, that they'll all die.
The crowd quietens all too fast. They all know it, too, to different extents.
They fade away in little groups, silent and resigned.
Gone is the hopeful excitement that awaited the announcement. If they're serving as distraction, there's no way they'll make it.
–--
They sit together, no one looking directly at anyone else.
Sollux rubs at his eyes, sighing lightly. "Well, here we go off towards our certain doom. Nice knowing you, athholes." His lisp is thickened by the barely suppressed loathing in his voice.
Karkat makes a pained sound. Sollux looks at him, hard.
He turns to Eridan instead, wearing a twisted grimace of a smile. "Don't you have some amazing message of hope to add?"
Eridan raises his head. "Do I look fuckin' hopeful to you?"
Sollux snorts.
"Hey, I mean. It was always a matter of time." Dave says dryly.
Karkat rolls his eyes. "Oh, because that makes it so much better. I'll soon be drowning in a puddle of my own blood, but at least it was meant to happen, hurr durr."
"What a speech, Karkat. Let me just write it down so I can recite it with my dying breath." John snickers, nudging him.
Tavros, eyes still downcast, sighs miserably. "I'd, uh, prefer to not have to use a dying breath at all."
The faint tone of camaraderie disappears, leaving them in morose silence yet again.
"Best go write your letters home, huh." Dave says, dusting himself off and standing up.
He can feel Karkat’s eyes on him as he walks away.
–---
Dave sits and stares at the sea while the others write their letter.
He sat observing them for a while first- he likes people watching.
The only problem is that he naturally starts analysing them.
He knows from Eridan's careful pauses that he's asking Fef something important, and the way he looks hard at the letter makes it pretty clear what he's asking.
(Dave doesn’t think she would say yes anyway, but he gets it.)
Eqiuus's furrowed brow and the forceful strokes he uses make him guess that it's some sort of code or number- he's probably leaguing his money to Nepeta in case something goes wrong.
John's letter to Jade takes less time to write than usual, so Dave knows he's not trying to sugar-coat anything. That's good, too, because Jade hates people lying to her.
He wishes Jade were here, all of a sudden, and then thanks the heavens she’s not.
Tavros breathes shakily when he writes his. It's to his mother, and Dave doesn't have to think long to know that he's telling her she might lose another one of her boys to the war machine.
It's only Karkat that Dave can't read, because his grip is steady as always, his letter is just as long and neat as usual, and his face is nothing but concentrated.
It is then that he realizes that he's been prying into their minds and goes out.
He's glad he scraped together a few cents around here, because at least AR will get something to live off- not that the kid isn't capable of scraping through regardless.
All he has to do then is keep lying low- he's still got two years before he'll necessarily be signed up and Dave point blank refuses to believe the war will longer than that. It certainly does feel endless now, but if nothing else there aught to be too little able-bodied men left to fight by then. Maybe they'll start enlisting the women then.
He imagines their girls in full military gear. For some reason, they look a great deal more efficient than the men he knows.
“Sign the women up to fight! A new petition proposed by the Australian government, to be put in place by January 1917- all Australians and Kiwis must immediately report for duty. Women can win this war!"
It's surprisingly easy to imagine the campaign and its posters.
For a moment, Dave almost forgets that he's the one sitting in the trenches, waiting for the order to go over the top.
A cannon booms not too far away, and he goes to sleep outside, on the rocky ground.
–---
He wakes up covered by a rough blanket, Karkat and John speaking in hushed tones not too far away.
"We're second wave with Eridan." Karkat says when he sits up. "Everyone else is going over the top today."
John smiles at him as if to say don't worry about it, old chum. Dave feels his hands curl into fists.
–--
By three fifteen the troops are ready to go up to the top trenches. There are a great deal of goodbyes being said, some of the men trying to be light-hearted and some quiet and heart-felt. A few of them are crying. No one points it out.
Dave pats their backs, then gets pulled into a hug by John.
"I might be a bit scared." John breathes into his neck.
"Egbert..." Dave says. He can't lose them.
Karkat says his goodbyes gruffly, looking almost pretty with his eyes shining too brightly and his lip bleeding from where he's bitten it.
Eridan surprises them all by hugging all four of them. Eqiuus pats him stiffly. Tavros squeaks. John laughs comfortingly. For a moment Dave thinks Sollux is going to push him away (he thinks please dont and stares at him hard) but he lets him, patting his hair as he pulls away. "Don't get emotional now, ED."
They set off with pale faces.
–---
Eridan heads for the cliffs.
The shooting starts at four, accompanied by shouts and agonized screams. Dave sits gripping his gun so tightly it creaks.
He hates them, he hates them, he hates them
He's half there half somewhere else, a part of him screaming the injustice of it all to the skies with the blood of his friends burning him like fire and the other already gone, distant and disbelieving.
He's only ever felt this dually impaired once before, when Dirk died and nothing really seemed to m a t t e r
(and he didnt get out of bed for a week and bro stayed with him the whole time and when he got up the next day bro was gone)
He feels the cloud descend, swirling masses he can't control, numb to the bone. Let it come.
Karkat shakes him roughly.
"Hey, stop zoning out, I have something for you."
Dave looks up, blinking slowly, focusing on his face (when did everything get so blu r r ed) and giving a slow: "What is it?"
Karkat hands him a paper and a pen.
"For your brother. Write something."
Dave goes "oh" then "yeah, all right" and the world shifts back into focus ever so slightly.
–--
Later, they sit with their backs to the wall, waiting. It's been an hour. The noise is getting quieter.
"Who's Kankri?" Dave asks.
"Dirk." Karkat says.
"Do you miss him?"
"Do you?"
"Ah." says Dave.
–--
They come back in shambles. It is a loud mess of blood and death, loud because of its heavy silence and the confusion that comes with it. Here, in this mass of faltering life, there is no distinction between men- there is only the same sense of despair, the bone-deep cry for help that comes much too late.
Dave rushes through, Karkat by his side.
Karkat is shouting, and boy is Dave ever grateful for his super-human capacity of letting his voice be heard, because he shouts out "JOHN!" and there's a flash of dulled blue eyes that look up.
Dave nearly sobs with relief, because of all of them he couldn't, couldn't lose John and he runs to him, pulls him out of the fray.
John's eyes are unfocused.
"Hey! Hey! Egbert! Look at me- look at me. What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Karkat snaps.
John's eyes find his face.
He looks dazed more than anything when he starts speaking slowly.
"Tav is gone. He was...he was..standing right next to me? And...there was...and then...in front of me...and he got hit? He's gone...Tav is gone, Dave, Tav is gone."
His tone is frantic when he finishes talking, eyes jumping from Karkat's stricken expression to Dave's.
Dave feels his chest constrict painfully. His eyes scan the crowd, as if trying to distinguish Tavros' freckled, ruddy face from the rest. Tavros? But Tavros...
"Is that-Eqiuus?" he asks instead.
"He got hit in the lung. He choked to death." John says, voice detached. He seems rather absent.
The noise around them seems amplified, like Dave's sinking into the ground, pierced twice through the heart. He can't move, can't b r e a t h e at all
Eqiuus was still carving his figurine for Nepeta this morning, it's still lying in the tent, and Tavros had been sitting right next to Dave for breakfast, and now they're gone and what, no, he refuses, they can't leave him too
he'd never even paid Tavros back for that book he'd bought him, and didn't Eqiuus say he'd show him how to fix his watch a day ago, now what now what now what-
and Karkat is sitting John down and holding his chin so that he looks at him, clicking his tongue to keep him concentrated, and Dave backs away slowly, shaking his head, and there's a screech that can only belong to one person here and he turns and runs to the infirmary because what now-
The infirmary is even worse, filled with screaming and crying bodies writhing in pain that aren't even people anymore and he remembers walking in on Dirk's crumpled form and no please
Eridan isn't screeching anymore, silent next to a bed. Dave looks over his shoulder at Sollux, brain whirring as he scientifically processes the damage. Limbs? Yes. Breathing? Yes. Eyes? Maybe not.
"...your stupid whining, ED, seriously." Sollux is saying, but his whole body is twitching while terrified tears stream down Eridan's face.
Dave can't really blame him, to be honest- Sollux is a sore sight for the eyes. Around his head, a careful bandage has been wrapped, but it doesn't stop the way his entire face is covered in the dark, gooey red leaking from his eyes. The fleshy, white bits splattering his shirt are also dripping with red- if Dave wasn't feeling sick before, he is now.
He doesn't quite understand how Sollux is even conscious at this point.
He turns around and walks right out again.
–--
Eridan has to be physically hauled out of the infirmary by nightfall. He’s gone off, slightly- rich pampered little boy just now seeing what war really does to people.
He doesn't sleep that night, quickening breaths vaguely hysterical.
Karkat's eyes are bloodshot, and his fingers are bleeding from pulling at his pendant too often, but his breaths do not vary in their speed.
Dave sits outside, head propped up by his bag.
Silly, silly boy, the ocean mocks. He imagines a twisted image of Feferi, waving her finger at him with a terrible grin. Silly little soldier boy gone off to die.
Playing the hero and getting himself blown up. Dirk says, sixteen forever in his mind. Real smart, Davie.
Still, he does not cry.
He's never cried before, not even when Dirk died. Maybe they're all just broken, useless little robots, then, this glorious Strider family, and he's the worst of the lot.
It doesn't stop him from feeling it, this great universal fear coursing through him, just as strong as his earlier hatred- he doesn't want to die.
–---
They are quiet and subdued the next day. Barely a tenth of the previous troops made it back yesterday- today, there is no effect of surprise to help them.
He goes to see John, hands him his broken watch and tells him to fix it for him. John's going home soon- "in shock", they said. Lost, is what Dave thought.
Sollux is going too, but Dave doubts he'll last the trip.
Well. Not to say John's not already gone.
"Keep it ticking, allright, bud?"
He's lost track of time.
What does it matter? They're going over at four.
Eridan is quiet, grim. He swims until they're called up.
Karkat seems almost peaceful. It's profoundly unsettling. He takes out his compass and sits on the highest point he can find, staring at nothing in particular. Dave knows he's looking up at where Cancer sits in the skies, hidden by the sun's mocking beams.
Dave does nothing.
He lies on his back, watching the few clouds there are in this foreign hell and mind void of any sudden insight. He wonders if you're meant to have some kind of epiphany when you're about to die- does that really happen outside of the carefully crafted lies that their governments send back home, or is it just his mind that continues down its usual path of nonsensical thoughts?
He doesn't know. He doesn't ask, either.
In his head, he writes letters.
Dear Rose,
You are the most marvellous creature I have ever met. Go find Kanaya.
Dear Terezi,
Sorry for not bringing you the Kaiser’s head. You should do it yourself. You’ll manage.
Dear AR,
I’m sorry.
Dear Bro,
Why did you do it?
Dear Dirk,
I’ll be seeing you soon.
Dear Karkat,
I don’t want to die.
–--
Three thirty, they march up to the highest trenches. The ground is covered in dry blood. Above them, across the little stretch of barren land, lie the Turkish with their machine-guns. With them lies Death, hand outstretched and smile sickly sweet.
Dave sits in the shade, wiping his brow, until someone pokes at him. He squints upwards. "Strider, isn't it?" asks Scratch, on his last inspection.
Dave barely scrapes up the civility to nod.
"You've been chosen as our runner between here and the office, should it be needed. Rather a lucky escape, eh?"
Dave blinks. Scratch smiles.
It transforms his neutral face into something disturbingly unpleasant.
When he's gone, Dave rounds on Karkat immediately.
"Looks like you won't be fighting after all, huh?" Karkat says, tone carefully unreadable.
"Karkat-" Dave says, strangled, "You can't-"
"Well, too bad for you, honestly, once we take them over-"
"You can't, I won't do it-"
"I mean, think of how people will laugh at you when they hear you weren't even in the fight-"
"YOU CAN'T DO THIS, YOU SON OF A-"
Karkat stills, whirls around. His eyes are fierce. "It's too late for that now, OK? You're running."
Dave's eyes sting. "You're faster than I am."
"They don't think so." Karkat says.
"Because of you-"
"Dave, please."
He doesn't want to "dave, please". He wants to scream and hit him, and say no and why the hell would you do this, why would you let me live instead and you can't die too and throw his "please" back in his face.
Instead, he remains silent, watching Karkat watch him.
–---
Three forty, Jake Harley is there, checking their positions. "Runner, go get me a phone!" he shouts. He's tragically easy to read- he looks heart-broken from yesterday's losses. Dave runs, into the office and back.
He spots Scratch's car up ahead, far from the battle already, nearly reaching the safety of the British camps.
"Here, sir."
"Oh, thank you, uh?" Jake looks up to find his name. "Oh. Strider."
The name he finds, of course, is a little painful.
"Sir."
Jake grabs the phone, ripping his eyes away with difficulty and dialling. "Hello? Yes? Ah- Scratch- yes, can you put me through to- oh."
He frowns.
"You're the authority? Ah. Well, I must insist that- no, quite pointless- tremendous loss of life, really- it's a slaughterhouse up here, goddamnit, man!"
Scratch speaks, smooth voice soft but nerve-grating even from where Dave stands.
"Yes, I understand. The operation will proceed." Jake says tightly.
–---
Three fifty, they're all standing ready to shoot. Dave stands next to Karkat, earlier grievance forgiven. What can he do? He's not going to hold a grudge against a dying man.
Instead, he amuses him with his long-winded speeches about nothing at all, bitter-sweet triumph in his chest when he manages to make him smile briefly.
(Fifty one, Karkat hands him his compass mid-sentence.
"Don't take it personally, city-boy. I'm just handing it to you as a consolation prize after we get over there."
"As if I want your stupid hand me down piece of junk." Dave scoffs.
They're not very good, he thinks, at dealing with emotions.)
Fifty two, Karkat nudges him. "He's still watching you."
Jake looks at Dirk right through him.
“I-” Dave says to Karkat, and has nothing to say that’s enough.
“Go on.” Karkat says, nodding at him.
Dave turns and goes.
"Sir?" Dave says, when he gets to Jake. Don't.
His jaw is clenched. "Go tell my father to lay it off. It's your last chance."
"Sir!" Dave says, brain carefully blank, resisting the what now, oh god, he could, maybe, is there-
"Oh, and Strider?"
He sees it coming too late.
"You must know, truthfully, that I was rather frightfully in love with him myself."
Dave can't answer, so he nods once, jerkily, and runs.
He can't think about that, not now,
(not ever really)
but especially not when he's practically a blur of sped up time,
bones almost cracking with exertion as he
runs and runs and runs
down to the General's tent.
–---
(now)
runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrun
–---
'TAKE YOUR POSITIONS!' Jake roars, and of course he's decided he can't let them go without him, Dave thinks hopelessly, but he's so close he's just a corner away, he's so nearly there, he's s o c l o s e
–----
'ON MY MARK!'
–--
he runs around the corner as if time had ceased to exist
"STOP!" Dave shouts at the top of his lungs, "STOP!"
it's
too
Jake's voice rises above his just before he starts, giving the signal.
–---
They jump over the top with a desperate cry, half of them hit before they can even start running.
Dave sees everything as if standing still, everyone's movements so tragically slow that it hurts.
Jake thuds down in front of him, green eyes dulling before he even spots him. Red blossoms spread across his chest as he falls.
Eridan, nearby, gets cut almost cleanly in half by a flying piece of metal. His eyes are wide.
He spots Karkat, running impossibly fast, impossibly fast, hears an impossible shout of pain as his gun fires and finds its target, and for a glorious, delirious moment he thinks he's going to take them all down by himself before both machine-guns open their fire on him alone and he is pierced one, twice,
too many times
his back arching gracefully as he falls lifeless
nearly half way to the Turkish line
the guns still.
not a single man is standing.
Karkat's body tumbles downwards, and it's like someone's unfrozen him from his stupor by dousing him with fire.
he screams
s c r e a m s
it's a horrible, inhumane cry of pain and hatred
and now he's crying, now he's really crying, and he's never cried before but he doesn't think anyone has cried like this before, and it's so loud and raw that the enemy trench falls silent too
He climbs up onto the ground, stumbles over to where Karkat lies, and all he can see through his blurred vision is the bright red and the glint of silver from where his pendant lies unsullied.
He wishes he really was a robot now, he wishes he could rip his heart out of his chest and crush it to pieces, he wishes he couldn’t feel because it hurts so bad, all he wants is for it to stop, all he wants is Karkat-
Almost hesitantly, a single gunshot rings out.
He's still sobbing, loud, body-racking sobs, his hands clutching at Karkat, when it pierces his chest.
He sees red, then he sees white. The tears are streaming down his face.
(he thinks 'it hurts so much' and then everything becomes dark around them)
When they go get the bodies, Karkat's pendant is dripping with Dave's own scarlet blood.
'Poor sods off playing heroes' someone murmurs in dismay.
The sun burns brightly, never hidden by the acrid smell of Death's latest prizes.