Work Text:
I should be fucking dead.
∆
You often wish things worked out for the better. But nowadays, you don't really know how Dirk would react to seeing you in any light besides platonic.
Bad, probably.
The game is over. You're on EARTH C, and you're kind of lonely. People expected you to be someone famous, to become someone with a loose pair of trousers and an even looser belt. But it's not you. And you very much so never gave Jane the chance to jump you.
She's all round, soft shapes. A well-made woman, is what you admit to yourself in the confinements of your room. However, as great as your attraction to Jane Crocker is, you've always sped off in the middle of a make-out session. Simply put, you've come to terms that Dirk's face and gloved hands creep in on you whenever you were getting busy with said Crocker.
To say the least, you're not surprised. You've never had much faith in your own romantic abilities, and you've always taken to doubting your every action when it included other people. You've had a long, long time to think about the past.
You seem stuck in the past nowadays.
You are stuck in the past, nowadays. In an apartment, in the Troll kingdom, far away from your old friends and family.
You think of Jade.
You decide it's best not to think of Jade fully-knowing you're only going to spiral down in a bigger hole than before. So you think of the next best thing, as always.
Dirk Strider.
Sure, from a third point of view, he isn't exactly the best next thing once you remember that he did break up with you (your fault) and that he refuses to look at you (your fault) and that he's never disassociated more from everyone surrounding him like he has after the game was over (also your fault). But you can't help it.
You sit up from your slumped position on the living room couch, pulling your robe around yourself once again (in no mood of seeing yourself naked as you passed by any reflective surface, really). You trudge over to the little self-made bar in the corner and gingerly pour yourself a generous shot of brandy.
You feel far older than you are. Your body feels far heavier than it ought to; and you're quite sure you've finally ended up at a stage in life where your vocabulary and your body finally match up (old British man from the 1800's, quite interesting you dare say). You drink the shot in one go, and huff.
This is pathetic.
You really need to get ahold of yourself.
“Yes, you do.”
Dirk briefly confirms, behind you. You turn around a moment later with two glasses (you're going to attempt to be polite until you're on your last leg, even if it's for a brain projection of your ex-boyfriend) and let the glasses slide against the surface of the coffee table for another moment, while busily staring at the other entity in your room.
This doesn't happen so much anymore. You sit down on the other end of the couch, fully knowing your shitty brain will make shitty brain Dirk get up and wonder about as he begins his monologue.
“What do you think you're going to achieve hiding away from everyone all day? Do you think they're looking for you? Jane? Jade? Hell, I'm sure even the Egbert kid would pull up a crusade if it made your grandmother happy.” he speaks clearly, with a controlled tone. A face as hard as tone, yet he floats about and boredly runs his fingers over your antiques with clear interest. His hood floats around with him. He's still in his Godtier outfit, just like the first time. And just like last time.
Small curses pass your lips, and your shoulders slump downwards even further between your legs. You look like a depressed, hairless ape at this point. You open your mouth to argue back; and flap it open two more times before deciding to give up and shrug weakly.
“I suppose I don't know.” was all you had to say for yourself.
“And you think sitting in hiding will achieve anything?” he inquires, but the question mark is never really heard. You just know he asked you a question. Of course you'd know, he's your brain projection.
“No. But I've been selfish. I don't see why I ought to skedaddle into everyone's lives once more and wreak havoc.” defeatist.
Dirk hummed the word back at you. His eyes glint in the dim light of the room; you never pull the blinds apart. His eyes are clear as day behind his sunglasses, his expression trained on you with the elegance of a predator.
“Make amends. It's that simple.”
“It's always easy when it comes to speaking, Strider.”
“I know you can make amends. I'm not pushing you past your limit. They deserve an apology, at the very least.”
You sigh, once again, and look away from the piercing gaze of someone who only really exists in your head, and serves as a very stoic advisor.
“I do suppose that's right. So?”
“So, make amends. Go, shoo.”
Brain Ghost Dirk is right. You have to make some amends. Get out of this hole of festering depression and filth. Contribute something to this new world you helped build. Step up to your position as a Page of Hope.
That's what you do.
~
It started off small; you cleaned your apartment, maintained it that way, regularly forced yourself to go out and buy groceries on your own instead of having them brought to your door. Your Dirk had hung around, becoming more solid each time your self-confidence got a boost, and he was soon peering over the couch armrest whenever he saw you walk in with a bounce in your step.
He knew he couldn't hang around forever. He knew he couldn't take the real Dirk's place. He wasn't actually Dirk. He would never be. You both knew that; and you never spoke about it. This Dirk was able to acknowledge your threshold, and what you could and couldn't do (being lodged in your brain was a pro there), something actual Dirk faulted himself for, and continues to do to this day.
You did your own laundry. You cooked your own meals. You went out on your own adventures, all by your lonesome.
Each time you did something, you put in your all, threw the whole bucket of elbow grease and everything! To make sure you would get better. To make sure you could be worthy of your friends. Of Jade. Of Dirk. To make sure you could at least be worthy of Dirk. It fueled you.
~
You started helping around your neighborhood. This world wasn't as perfect as it was meant to be, from the looks of it. People had feuds over who could do what, and as you've learned in your spare time, some trolls were a little iffy, thinking they were superior to other trolls. Guess that sort of cocky attitude runs in their DNA, and wasn't purely based on a society based on violence.
You might have fallen off the face of Earth C, but you were still a public figure. You handled it. It made you feel useful. Helping others... It gave you a little bit more drive. You couldn't do that before, plopped on your couch in the dark while sobbing to yourself over your late-realised feelings. All thoughts briefly halt and you think about the way Dirk's lips twitched upwards whenever you did something endearing to him. Your heart breaks a little.
No matter. It's in the past now, and you're in the present working towards the future.
You cry a little bit when you get home. Dirk doesn't say anything.
~
How long as it been. How long? A couple of months, maybe? Half a year? You don't remember. You know you've stumbled on your own feet multiple times and gotten back up again after getting an extensive talking from Dirk, and once you finally stopped stumbling, he took his leave once more.
You guess that now you don't need him, if he let himself out without a goodbye.
You feel relieved that the period of mental instability is finally over, and that you don't just break down and cry out of nowhere anymore. You've reached a level of acceptance.
Maybe you've grown enough to be able to point out your own flaws, and how you've overcome them. Certainly feels that way.
~
You're at the grocery store. That's when it first happens.
Jade, in all her tall Harley glory, smells you from across the isle. She rounds the corner suspiciously just as you let a few can of beans drop in your basket, and you only get to raise an eyebrow in question to the person walking with an arm stuck to the shelf quietly before she forces a hug on you.
Needless to say, you held your shit together. You worked through your internal freaking out, and you gleefully decided to keep contact with Jade.
You go home that day feeling pretty fucking good about yourself, if you say so yourself. Which you do.
You make sure to keep your promise.
You've missed her.
~
You've built a solid familiar relationship with Jade by the time it's Christmas, you guess, because she invites you to Christmas Dinner. You've had enough conversations about your current estrangement from the rest of your friends, and all in all, she's only been supportive of you moving at your own pace and coming back to the group/s whenever you were ready. You thanked her extensively each time.
She didn't expect you to accept the invitation, but you do. It's been far too long. You miss everyone. You want to apologise to those you have hurt.
So you get ready for it; it's next week, of course, and you make all the needed arrangements to go on your merry way towards Dave and Karkat's little corner. They are a couple, after all. Or so you learned from Jade, after hearing her heartbroken tone over the phone. You did your best to console her.
She was the only one there at your aid, even when you pushed her away. You decide she deserves far better from the likes of you. So you accept, and you forget the butterflies flying in your chest and abdomen. You try not to drive yourself mad.
It works.
~
Your bags are getting hoisted out of the back of a taxi. An indigo blood has taken to doing so, even insisted, and you couldn't do anything besides watch him. You pay him for all his work's worth and make sure he knows he earned it, before shuffling with your bags to the door.
It was really nice of Dave and Karkat to let Jade stay with them even after all that's happened, really. Jade is lucky to have good friends. Invasive thoughts creep around the dark edges of your mind once more and you decide it was time to stop overthinking this, and just go with the flow!
So you knock on the door.
Dave Strider in the flesh opens the door with the ugliest (and a probably ironic) knitted sweater with scratchy trousers to go with. He raises an eyebrow without saying anything before curtly saying “sup” in your direction and offering to help you with the baggage. Words easily roll off of your tongue; you've been practicing for a while. You talk about your pretty boring journey, and make sure to ask what they themselves have been up to.
And as always, you get a “nothing much”, as expected. Nevertheless, you continue acting as if nothing has ever happened, and you never actually disappeared off of the face of this planet without saying a word.
It works, for the most part. You're very much aware that Dave isn't the prying type, and instead chooses not to join other people's shitfests. Admirable.
You wish you could say you do something akin to that; but you know you've only hidden yourself and ran away from your problems in the past. It would do you no good to start falling back in the pothole of despair and denial. The PODAD, if you will. The PODAD is a place you've been in for far too long, and all these months of hard work would be thrown right out a fifth storey building if you let yourself stoop so low once more.
You get settled in into one of their guest rooms and take a moment to loosen your tie a little bit. It took you a couple of years to realise that you shouldn't go all-out with the colour green, so now, your suit only had accents and different shades of said colour (instead of one big, rumpled green monster feigning to be a suit) decorated it. Your blazer was black, like your slacks. Your shirt was a classic white, and so were your trousers and belt. Your cuff links, however, were a green brighter than your eyes. Your vest was a green darker than your eyes. Your tie... Well, it was in-between, really; it didn't make a notable expression.
Then again, you suppose you didn't make a notable expression on people, either. That didn't matter now, though. Keep thinking happy thoughts, English!
You unbutton your blazer with little energy, and let it fall neatly on the empty chair in the room before heading downstairs into the living room. You made a plan of action, and you were definitely determined to stick to it (lest you lose your marbles). You were going to force yourself to interact with everyone who passed through that door, and nothing was going to stop you.
So you did. You greeted Karkat with a hefty handshake, asked him about his adventures with his Strider, and teased him when he became a flustered, emotional mess about the topic at hand. He did let you know that everyone knew you were coming.
That meant... Everyone knew.
~
Jade couldn't have been happier to see you once again. She hugged you twice as tightly, almost cut the air supply to your brain, and you swore she would wag her tail if she had one (she does not; she does not have a tail. The media is so, so wrong). She sits you down and goes on an extensive rant about what she's encountered on her journey across Earth C. You're briefly reminded of grandma English. A soft, sad sigh escapes you in her memory.
Jane isn't as physical with you, when you greet her, but takes to hugging you when you played it safe and offered her your hand. She tells you that she missed you, in the smallest voice possible, and your heart aches knowing your friends don't hold as much resentment towards you as you thought they did initially. You only weep a little bit on the inside.
John comes through afterwards; zoned out. He seems much better off than you last saw him, so you don't think over it too much and instead strike up a really short chat with him. It feels weird to look at someone that's almost perfectly identical to you. DNA mixed in with extraterrestrial goop of life works wonders, you guess. He seems much more interested in continuing whatever conversation he had going with Miss Pyrope, and you decide not to bother them.
Roxy does nothing short of sneak up. He sneaks up on you, and gives you the hardest slap on the back to scare the shit out of you. And scare the shit out of you he fucking did.
You regarded Roxy as she, at the time, but he took the time to delicately explain to you just exactly how his identity is not your business (in a nicer manner), and listened to you tell him that you respect and love him no matter what gender he decides he is. He seems to have taken that well.
You admit to yourself, it will take a while to process, but Roxy's right; it's none of your business to criticize. So you don't. Instead, you inquire about his whereabouts nowadays and in turn share your own little experiences. Roxy seems happier.
That does make you happy, not that you know how.
Rose regards you with a curt nod, and an all-knowing pair of eyes. Kanaya is polite enough to say hello;
...
You didn't expect to see him walk behind Kanaya.
He does, though. His eyes are easily hidden behind those sunglasses (because this is reality, and you don't get to choose whether or not you can see Dirk's eyes— this one isn't a brain projection, he's the real deal). That doesn't stop you from knowing he took a long look at you with pursued lips. He said nothing.
The heavy social gravitation that settled in once he came in just hit you. The hairs on your neck stand up; and you do nothing short of wringing your hands together nervously. You knew this would be hard. Of course it would be hard.
When he sits down at the table across from you, he doesn't look at you with anger or irritation. A relieved sigh escapes you, having been lodged in your throat previously, and you notice the arch of his eyebrows going down. Regret. Sadness, maybe. You're not all too sure, it's still very hard to read someone so well-trained in the art of “Emotionally Dead IRL, but a hurricane on the inside” even after all the years you've spent with him.
Maybe you should ask him.
You probably shouldn't. You most likely can't. You weren't ready for this sort of reaction.
You were ready for the worst— this, this looks like the best it could get.
The table is prepped with various foods from across all the nearest kingdoms, and once everyone sits down, Dave being the only one standing and announcing to “go apeshit”, you dig in. You guess this is what people once called a feast.
Jade strikes up a conversation with you once again while happily eating on your right, and you do nothing short of indulge her in her bad puns and elbowing. It feels a little bit like she's your sister. You're happy that the way you two interacted online and in real life didn't change. You hope it stays this way. Seeing Jade happy fills a few small gaping holes in your heart.
You fill your trap with food until you can't move anymore. When you can move, you do so towards your temporary room, bidding everyone a good night.
~
12:07 AM, 26/12/19
That's when he knocks on your door. You were busy changing. Quite naked at that moment actually, and you quickly chose between clothing the top or bottom part of your body before checking in to see who it was.
Initially, you were surprised. Deep down you knew he was very capable of doing this sort of thing. You beckon Dirk in with a t-shirt in your hand without a second thought, your curiosity getting the best of you and your anxiety spiking to a 1000%. You think he looks at your back for a second. You're not too sure.
You pull your plain white t-shirt on without further interruptions and blink blearily; not wearing your glasses. You were planning to sleep. Needless to say, said plan was foiled with ease. Attention now fully on him, you watch his hands wander over random surfaces while deep in thought. Probably rehearsing what he was saying one last time.
You lean against the back of the chair and watch him walk about.
“What's up, English?”
“Well, nothing much I suppose! I was just going through with my plan to get a good night's rest. How about yourself?” talkative, as always. You can always try to make your responses shorter.
“Where have you been?” you take a second to think about what to say to that. He's the first to ask.
“In the Troll kingdom? Would you mind if I ask why?”
“Yeah, I do mind.”
This situation is getting worse and worse. Great!
You swallow the lump in your throat, and another one forms right after. You don't say anything.
Dirk's eye briefly meets yours when he turns to face you, slowly creeping up in front of you before leaning forwards.
“I apologise, then?” was what came out on instinct. Not exactly the worst response in this situation.
His arms are on either one of your sides, which only makes you lean more against the chair. You stand still like that until you can feel his body heat, and smell the cologne on his neck. You can tell he's overanalysing you quietly, until you avert your gaze and fluster with ease; coughing to regain some sort of momento in the present.
“Fair enough.” is his response to you. He moves away, and as he does, he briefly runs his left hand over your shoulder. A skimming touch, at its best. You register he's moved by the time he's walking across the room and opening the door, and mutter a weak goodnight in response to his brief and strong one.
He shuts the door, and it looks like he was never here. You stand there, staring at the door for the longest time. Tears creep up around the edges of your eyes, and you start sniffling to yourself when a million racing thoughts of all the mistakes that lead to your breakup with him come through all at once.
You get in bed and curl up, a hand under your pillow and another busily fisted into the blanket.
You feel lousy the next day, but try your best not to act on it too much.
You do weep a little bit again the following night.
~
It's the end of your trip here at the Strider-Vantas manor, and you do well to bid goodbye to everyone around you. Dirk gives you a short nod in your direction, which you return instinctually.
After you get packed and leave, go on your merry way, and get home.
You get a message from him. Dirk, striking up a casual conversation with you. You never bothered changing your handle, however you had stopped using the only chat client you all had in common until recently.
Once you got settled in, Roxy's pestering you, followed by Dirk. You try your best to talk to both before declaring the amount of tired you are, before stripping and falling face-first into your bed.
You wonder if Dirk hates you.
Yeah... Probably.
Why would he be so insistent on speaking to you, though...
~
2020 has been an okay year so far. You've had a couple more visits from Brain Ghost Dirk (BGD); and they were quite nice! The first one was disastrous, though. You were all tears and snot because Dirk had finally snapped at you once.
It's so, so evident how deep in you are. BGD came and went as he had to, and you let it happen. You knew it was for the best, and certainly felt that way one day.
A day on which Dirk asked you if you wanted to hang out. You accepted, of course, what were you to say when you wanted to better your friendships once again?
Or that's what you tell yourself when you hurry up and tidy the flat a bit.
He drops by, unexpectedly, and late. You try to unwind your nerves, to which Dirk seems to aid you by beginning one of his long monologues about how troll movies are all inherently cliché, yet a good type of cliché, and how humanity has something to learn from it.
You still don't know what Dirk really wants from you. You're afraid to ask. The way he looks at you could actually kill you if you hadn't ascended.
You're sitting on your bed, cross-legged. Like a teenage boy and not a man in his early twenties. Dirk is sat on your chair, spinning around to face you and then the wall while you explain to him what you've been up to.
And... It honestly, goes very well.
~
It's almost been a year since you went on a journey of self-betterment, you think. You certainly feel better nowadays.
Or you did, until Dirk kissed you last time he visited, and it unfortunately wasn't an innocent kiss a young boy would give his grandmother. His lips were a tad softer than before, and his hands were just as calloused. His glasses had bumped up against yours.
You were going to die from exhaustion and nerves.
You needed to know what the fuck was going on already.
So you message him. Finally. You ask him if he could drop by. He says yes, just give him a moment, he'll be there.
Dirk arrives a little later than expected. It's evening— nearing into night-time. You yawn quietly and look out of the window. When he knocks, you're at the door in a second to let him in. He notices your desperation, of course he does.
His hands fly into your hair, your hands don't do much flying.
Needless to say, you fucked. End of story.
...
Except it isn't the end of the story, or not this one, at least. You sat up, in the middle of the night, eyes scanning the human heater sleeping beside you, and lean close to kiss the corner of his mouth. It twitched. And, well, he's caught you in the act. He sits up slightly, without his sunglasses for once, and bores his eyes into yours.
He heard you unconsciously mutter a dumb “what are we„ under your breath.
Dirk sighs, and chuckles as if something was oh-so-funny to him.
He moves a hand up to your face, which sounded the alarms in your head. You didn't get enough time to get prepared for this. Ever.
“I'm sorry, Jake. But I'll never let you break my heart again.”