Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Your name is Dave Strider and you have not slept in almost a week.

It’s not that you can’t. You’d be counting sheep before your head hit the pillow if you let it. And it’s not that you don’t want to. Staying awake is hell at this point and you’d kill for some ‘Z’s if only to make the constant buzzing drone of awakeness get on the next train to fuck off.

It’s just...

You don’t want to dream.

Now that the game is finally fucking over, your merry party of winners have gone back to having actual, normal dreams instead of waking up in a different existence every time you fell asleep.

It really wasn’t that bad at first. It was almost relaxing knowing that what you did while you were asleep had the importance of fuck all. Sure, you didn’t have the best dreams but you are a traumatized piece of shit so that’s to be expected.

Yeah, the nightmares aren’t what stopped you from sleeping. You could deal with those. Or, at least, you could deal with the normal kind. This... was a whole other can of worms.

The dream starts off like a lot of your bad ones, in your bro’s apartment with said fuckass obviously present somewhere on the premises. It’s very detailed, the whole place vividly real and almost exactly like you remember it.

Almost.

The differences are small but obvious. The apartment is clean. It’s still lived in and far from perfect, but most of the stains are missing and clutter is minimal. There’s a surprising lack of smuppets and shitty swords. If you look you can still find some nearer to Bro’s room but you actually have to look or you’ll miss them. They’re not strewn about randomly or placed in any sense of irony.

The dream continues in a handful of different ways. You start to feel hungry or bored or a combination, and something stupid urges you to venture somewhere else to alleviate said stat, instead of relying on your stores in your room. No matter the reason or destination, you go to a place in the apartment where you can satisfy your brain, and find Bro.

He’s usually already doing what you came there to do. Getting food or playing a game or something. Some, more awake part of your brain, tells you that it’s a trap and urges you to abscond ASAP. Your dream self, however, is perfectly fine with the situation and continues on like nothing is abnormal.

Bro notices you, of course, when does he fucking not, but he doesn’t attack. Instead...

instead...

He talks to you. He actually fucking talks to you. Not even in a weird way. He talks to you like a normal fucking person, like the guardian he should have been. And you talk back, shoot the shit, unafraid of retaliation aside from some casual barbs. It’s almost like talking with Dirk.

Sometimes he gives you food. Sometimes he plays a game with you. Whatever happens, it’s not bad and it stays that way. Lil Cal doesn’t show up. Nobody pulls out swords. There’s no strife. It’s everything you’d ever wanted as a kid.

You’d really thought you’d gotten over not having had it.

It’s not bad when you wake up either. You feel refreshed and sated, like you’ve had the best kind of sleep. It even puts you in a decent mood for the day.

You almost wish you could have enjoyed it.

But, no, something just... wasn’t right about it all. It made you think of Bro again, and you thought you’d gotten to a place where you could move on from that shit. You thought you were done wishing for a life that never was.

So even if your nights were peaceful, your waking mind couldn’t rest. What did these dreams mean? Why were they coming back now? You remember you used to dream about the same thing all the time, but at least it made sense back then. Now? What had brought this back to your subconsciousness and why?

Everything came to a head in a particularly vivid repeat of the dream.

It went like it usually did. You left your room and found Bro and all, except this time, you knew you were dreaming.

You tried to enjoy it, you really did, but... You just couldn’t stand it.

“I don’t get it! You weren’t a good person! You were never a good person! You never did any of this! Why the fuck do I keep having these dreams? Am I not over you? Is that it?”

You looked away from Bro as the dream destabilized, the world around you desaturating and fading into nothingness.

“Sorry.”

You’d have thought that hearing that from him would have brought you some sort of closure, some sort of relief, but as your dream-self turned to see Bro still very vivid and real in the remains of your dreamscape...

“I should have realized... I won’t do it again.”

You could do nothing but scream.

You woke up in a panic, fully ready to strife. It took Karkat hours to calm you down.

That was the last time you’d let yourself sleep. There was still a chance that it was just a dream. Your head could just be fucking with you but...

Bro was like Dirk, and if Dirk could splinter...

There’s a very real possibility that a piece of your Bro’s soul is hiding in your dreams.

And you are not prepared to face him.

Chapter Text

“Dave-”

“I’m not even fucking with this, Dirk! Can you pull him out of me or not?”

He’s quiet for a moment. You imagine he might be doing some sort of heart thing or maybe strategizing something in his head. You’re beyond caring what at this point. You look up when he still doesn’t speak and the panicked look on his face almost breaks your resolve.

“I,” He bites his lip, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t know, Dave. I would if I could, believe me! You of all people shouldn’t have to deal with my shit, but I’m the Prince of Heart, dude. Destroyer of Souls. Splintering my soul is one thing but I wouldn’t even begin to trust myself with someone else’s. I could shatter you to pieces, or worse!”

“You wouldn’t-”

“You don’t know that.” Dirk shakes his head. “And, honestly, I’m not willing to risk it. I’m sorry, Dave.”

It’s the same thing he told you over pesterchum. You’re not even sure why you thought it’d be different in person.

“There’s got to be something we can do! There has to be!” You’re going to lose your mind at this rate. “I am not living the rest of my life like this!”

You end up arguing for another few minutes. You know Dirk can’t do anything. You knew that before you came here. And you know arguing isn’t going to change that. You just don’t know what else to do. He’s your heart player and this is a heart problem. He has to be able to do something.

You end up leaving Dirk’s place in a worse mood than what you arrived with. You’re also pretty sure you said some things you’re going to regret when you have a clearer head, but, at the moment, you don’t give a shit.

You still haven’t slept and Bro is still in your head. You’ll admit that it’s making you a bit irritable.

“Now wait just a moment!”

And here comes the resident page in all his short shorts glory. What’s he doing-? Oh, right. Jake and Dirk live together for some god forsaken reason. You’re not even sure if they’re a thing again or not.

“What!”

Jake looks a bit taken aback by your snap, and you can tell he’s reconsidering this whole… whatever he’s doing, but he steadies himself.

“I understand that you’re a bit bamboozled by this whole situation.”

“No shit.”

“And I don’t quite blame you. I don’t know what went on with you and your brother but-”

“Is there a point to this?”

Jake falters again. “I, um, well,” he clears his throat. “As I said, I don’t quite have a grasp on the whole kit and caboodle but I do know my fair share as far as Dirk’s splinters are concerned. I’ve got one of my own, as a matter of fact.”

That sparks your interest. “Do you know how to get rid of it?”

“Um, no, not really.”

Damn. “Then what the fuck do you want.”

“I just, um, well, you…” He stutters out a few incomprehensible words and you groan, running a hand over your face.

“Jake, I’m tired out of my ass and I can’t fucking sleep because my pathetic excuse for a guardian is in my dreams. I cannot deal with this right now!”

“Well you don’t have to take it out on Dirk!” Jake looks about as surprised as you are at his outburst. He takes a steadying breath and goes for it. “I know he and your guardian are similar, but they’re not the same! I don’t know what all happened but Dirk’s been fretting about it so much it’s infectious!”

Oh.

Your stomach twists. Jake rambles out something else unimportant that you don’t listen to. You’ve been taking it out on Dirk. You have, haven’t you, and you hadn’t even realized it. You lean against a tree and slide down into a squat, pressing your head against your knees.

“I am the worst brother. It’s me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You’ve been out of sorts. Everyone gets a bit brusque when they’re down and out.”  

“I know he’s not Bro. I know he’s not.” And yet, when it comes down to the wire, you’re still treating him like he is. Some part of you argues that you’re rightfully frustrated that he can’t do anything, but you know that’s not a good excuse.

“Fuck. I don’t even know how to handle this.” You let out a humorless chuckle and raise up your head to bang the back against the tree trunk. “Can’t sleep, can’t fix it, and I fucked up my good bro. Great.” You look up at Jake who’s just standing there awkwardly now. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any suggestions.”

“Um,” He fumbles with his hands for a minute, “Well, I suppose apologizing could be a good start! It doesn’t solve your other problem but it’ll make you and Dirk feel a lot better! Can’t say I have anything good for your brain ghost problem, though. I know how to live with Dirk’s but your brother seems to be a different sort.”

You scoff. “Got that right.”

“Still,” He trails off, looking anxious about speaking once again. “I mean, I don’t want to step any bounds. I just know that Dirk’s splinters seem to latch on to things he cares about or put a lot of, well, heart into.” His eyebrows knit together. “And, it stands to reason, with what we know…”

You raise an eyebrow at him as he pauses. You’re not sure what he sees in your expression, but it encourages him to speak his mind.

“It stands to reason that if that is how splinters form and you have one from your brother, that your brother, well, put a lot of heart into you.”

You could probably hear a pin drop in the silence if your heartbeat wasn’t rushing in your ears.

You want to laugh. You want to say that it’s impossible. You want to say it doesn’t matter, that your brother was a piece of shit and you don’t care how much “heart” he put where. But…

A loud and childish part of you still wants him to love you.

You stare down at the ground, giving it the same glare you wish you could give your Bro. But, actually, maybe you can.

He’s in your dreams, right? Your dreams. You… you can control that shit, right? He’s got whatever heart shit going on but they’re your dreams. Your Bro never played Sburb, he never trained his heart powers. There’s no way he’s got anything good up his sleeve. You…

You have the upper hand. You have the upper hand against your Bro.

You stand rather suddenly, shocking Jake into stopping his apologetic ramblings. You know what you’re going to do.

“Good talk. Thanks, Jake.” You look at him. “It helped, really.”

“Um, well,” He smiles hesitantly, clearly lost. “Glad I could be of assistance!”

You nod shortly. “Could you apologize to Dirk for me? I’ve got stuff to do.” Before you lose your nerve. “I’ll talk to him later.”  

He agrees and gives you a cheerful farewell with well wishes. You barely pay attention to the pleasantries.

You’ve got the upper hand. You control your dreams. You can do this.

You can face him. You can get answers.

And he’s going to regret ever hurting you.