Chapter Text
“I live near the
slaughterhouse
and am ill
with thriving.”
- Bukowski
-------------------
“So Troll Thomas Anderson got himself killed last night,” John told you, hanging up his coat. “Shot right between the eyes, right here, and stabbed fourteen times post-mortem.” He emphasized this with stabby motions. “Guess he didn’t follow the white rabbit.”
You didn’t know who Troll Thomas Anderson was or why he would be following Bugs Bunny, so you said, “What?”
“Troll Thomas Anderson! Hacker name Neo?” You simply raised your eyebrows over your glasses. John looked exasperated. “The Matrix, dude, come on.”
You offered a shoulder to your best bro as he toed off his shoes in the midst of his disappointment. “I thought Troll Keanu Reeves was immortal or some shit. Or is that just human Keanu Reeves?”
John looked up at you blankly. “What?”
“He means the asshole who works three cubicles down from him,” Sollux clarified for you, reaching over John to hang up his own coat. “Guy was a reclusive bag of dicks, told us how he could hack into any mainframe.” He rolled his monochrome eyes.
“Hence Troll Thomas Anderson,” John said. “He was the least cool hacker we could think of.”
“What about the real Napster from The Italian Job?”
“No way, that guy was bombing. Don’t even kid, Dave.”
“He tried hacking into the company mainframe once,” Sollux continued. “I hit him with one of KK’s viruses. Never tried that again.”
John waved his hands in glee and added, “He managed to blow up the entire coding department! We got paid vacation for a week!”
Sollux grinned and exchanged some sort of secret encrypted look with Egbert. “Not him though.”
“No way, not ever. He talked about quitting a lot after that. Said he was going to make a name for himself.” John shrugged. “Guess he got too cocky.”
“The FBI came and talked to us today.”
“So that means it was totally gang related!”
“Stabbed fourteen times sounds like Crew work so-“
“- it just reeks of Slick, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, but it could be a copy-cat.”
“Not really? Who would be dumb enough to frame the Crew for-“
You waved your hand to get their attention. “I’ll leave you two ladies to your gossip. Any time you want to join the party, we’ll all be somewhere that isn’t the entry hall.”
John stuck out his tongue at you, but laughed. “Lead the way, loser.”
Your name was Dave Strider and you were not a loser. You had definitive proof of this; it was Friday night and you were at a party. There was alcohol involved. Shitty pop music was playing. It wasn’t a frat party, no, but you still had a chance of getting laid because there were, in fact, single ladies at this party. This was definitely how you spent most of your Friday nights nowadays. You did not spend them holed up in your cheap apartment eating Cheetos and drinking off-brand apple juice while plotting out story arcs for a shitty webcomic that had gained far too large a fandom for its quality. Nope, you were a party animal, a free soul, douchebag personified, frat boy wannabe.
Okay, maybe you were a little bit of a loser, but John was a bigger loser than you and that was all that counted. You had thousands of screaming fans on Tumblr and he was a code monkey. Sure, you were a bit reclusive, but you never turned down an invitation, provided you didn’t have a deadline to meet. And sometimes even then. The fans could deal.
Things were pretty good, you thought. You had a relatively stable income and a pretty kick-ass job that you actually enjoyed doing. You were pretty sure everything your friends said about you behind your back was also everything John said to your face. As far as being a loser, you were simply the best there was.
The party was officially for some sort advancement for the campaign of Feferi, Heiress to the Throne and political activist, but really it was just an excuse to get everyone together for some much-needed social time. It was talking place in Eridan’s hive, which was a tacky and monstrous thing that looked like a pirate ship, was designed like a mansion, cost as much as a castle, and smelled like a bait shop. The place could comfortably accommodate the size of the guest load, but you still had to squeeze through a few groups to get to the people you actually wanted to talk to.
As soon as your mutual friends were in sight, the host included, Sollux called out, “Hey asshole, why don’t you have a doorman to take our coats? Pretty substandard for a fishy asshole like you.”
Eridan jerked his head up indignantly. “What are you talkin’ aboat? I do.”
“The only person over there was Strider.”
“I was talking a smoke break,” you explained with a shrug.
Rose frowned at you. “You don’t smoke.”
“I could, you don’t know that.”
“But you don’t.”
“I do what I want. You ain’t my real mom.”
“I’ll go see what the problem is,” Eridan said and slipped away.
Feferi ran over to Sollux with a stumbling laugh and threw her arms around his shoulders as she grinned terrifyingly at you and John. “You fish made it!”
“Yeah,” you said, “sorry they were so late, Egbert got his gills caught I his neck tie and spent the at least thrity minutes trying to figure out the Gordian knot around his neck. You know how it is.”
“We had work drama,” John said, elbowing you in the side. He laughed though, and Feferi laughed with him and it was at that point you realized that she was completely drunk.
“Sol,” Feferi said into Sollux’s neck. “Sol-fish, Karcrabby is being so… crabby!”
You looked over by the window and sure enough was Karkat Vantas wearing his usual ridiculous ensemble that was meant to cover up as much skin as possible. Boots, pants, mock turtleneck (for the warmer seasons), collared jacket, gloves, tinted glasses (which could also change to sunglasses and goggles), and cabbie hat. You weren’t very close to him and you didn’t interact with him much, but you heard enough about him from everyone else. He was bad tempered, an self-proclaimed expert in romance, and drove a taxi for a living. Hemoanonymous. Well, Sollux claimed he knew his blood color, and Equius had told you once that lowbloods tended to be able to tolerate warmer temperatures. Considering you had never seen Vantas in anything less than a long-sleeve turtleneck, even in the summer, you and Equius both agreed that he was probably low, whatever he was.
Your interaction with him mostly took place in a group of people and rarely did you ever directly talk. It was really a shame, because he had a pretty nice ass for spending a lot of time sitting on it, and he seemed like a pretty good opponent in a fight. But between his personality and his conservative taste in clothes, you didn’t really think anything you started with him would go very far anyway.
“KK,” Sollux said to Vantas, “stop being so crabby.”
“I’ll stop being so crabby once Feferi stops making a complete lush of herself in public. Does she realize that there are three senators that this party? At least? I just counted them, there, one, two, three, all in earshot of us! Wow, what a great impression to make in front of people you want to-“
Feferi detached herself from Sollux’s neck and instead threw herself at Vantas, locking him in the most malicious hug you had ever seen.
“No,” he said, trying to push her off. “No, I will not hug you. This is pale sentiment, you are cheating on your quadrants you venomous political witch, get off me.”
She laughed and said, “Nope! This is a party, not a meeting. You need to settle down.”
“I will not settle down, this is the most-“
“Settle down,” Feferi growled in the same voice she used to threaten any would-be assassins. It showed all of her teeth and creeped the fuck out of everyone.
Karkat settled down and, very reluctantly, hugged her back.
Feferi looked satisfied with this and pet his hair a little while he growled warningly.
The rest of the party wasn’t quite as eventful. You spent a long time talking with Equius and Nepeta about whatever came to mind. You liked them. Equius was a bit weird with his sweating and classism, but he was harmless and calmed right down when Nepeta patted his face. Rose tried to get you to tell her about your dreams, and Jade recruited you to get John to stop pulling pranks on all the officials. You found out the mayor of the city actually read your comic and you doodled him a picture on a napkin for him to take home.
The party started thinning out pretty early, but everyone who mattered stayed a bit longer. It was 4 AM before Eridan said he and Fef had some things to do tomorrow, so he was kicking you out of his house/boat/mansion/bait shop.
You were stuffing your feet into your sneakers when Kanaya said, “Oh dear, Karkat forgot his hat.” She looked out the window and pursed her lips, so you whistled to get her attention.
“Toss it over,” you said, holding out your hand. “I got this.” She smiled and tossed it over to you. You snatched it mid-air and threw open the door with a “bam” and behind you, Eridan complained about you damaging her property. Vantas was fumbling with his keys by his car.
“Yo, asshole,” you said, and his head jerked up to glare at you. You flashstepped over to him, already preparing to comment on how he looked up at the rude nickname instantaneously, but before you could even open your mouth, something popped behind you hit your back.
The pain feels like someone just pushed you really hard with a relatively sharp stick and you fall against Karkat, pinning him to his car. He lets out the beginnings of a protest before something cuts him off.
Your world gets a little fuzzy and surreal. You try to push off of him, but it’s not working too well. You brace your hands on the roof of the sedan and look at Vantas, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. He’s staring at you, wide eyes. Gently, so very gently, he touches your chest.
His hand comes back covered in blood.
“Well, damn,” you say, and then cough up metal-tasting liquid.
Another pop behind you and you push Karkat down as fast as you can. A hole appears in the car where his shoulder was. Another pop, something hits your shoulder and it’s all you can do to keep from collapsing on the ground.
“Holy fuck,” someone says.
“Oh my god, what the hell just-“
“Karkat? Dave?”
“Dave!”
“Holy shit, who-“
“-call an ambulance now-“
“-find out who-“
“-look for the ass-“
“-god oh god oh god oh god-“
“-came from the east, shots-“
You’re looking down at Vantas, all scrunched up below you. His glasses are askew, his eyes are wide and terrified and they don’t leave yours. He looks a little like a frightened stray, like that, you think. A stray cat. Like that stupid joke John is always saying. Haha.
“Beep beep meow,” you try to say, but you just end up coughing instead. Some blood falls on Vantas’s face and he seems to shudder to life. All around you are people yelling and screaming, but his voice is loud and clear and-
“Towels.”
-not what you expected hearing, what the fuck.
He unzips his coat in one fluid motion, the kind of motion you only saw in cheesy action movies. “I need towels now, or coats, or whatever the fuck you assholes have right here. Right now.”
You realize he’s not talking to you. He stands up, carefully, and you’re about to ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing, there’s someone fucking shooting shooting and oh god you’ve been shot in the chest what the fuck this is not happening this is not
“Shhh,” Vantas says. Someone hands him something. The towels. “Hold this,” he tells someone else and suddenly you are looking at the sky, with an uncomfortable lump under your back and Vantas is straddling you, the fucker, with his coat wrapped around your chest and then he fucking pulls and you see stars.
When you head clears, you have tunnel vision and Jade is cradling your head. “Hey Dave,” she says and she’s crying. “We’re right here, so it’s okay.” Your head is swimming and you nauseous. You’re pretty sure you’re the exact opposite of okay.
Vantas is now leaning over your chest and pressing down on it. “I’m trying to slow down the bleeding,” he’s hissing, you don’t know who to. “He’s probably in shock.” He’s covering in red. Something distant in your mind remarks that he’s covered in your blood. Another part observes the red tinted tracks on his face as he presses his hands down on you.
“Breathe, you asshole,” He says.
“Dave,” Jade whispers to you. “Dave, you gotta stay with us, okay? We’re getting you help. You gotta hold oh, okay? Just a little bit longer. Dave, stay with us, okay?” She repeats it like a prayer.
Breathing is the least of your concerns. You’re more worried about how cold you feel, or the pins and needles feeling that’s creeping its way up your arms and legs. You’re worried about the fact that all you can taste and smell is copper.
Everyone’s words start slurring and becoming nonsense, and your ears start ringing. Next to Vantas, a girl kneels down. A troll. Her eyes were large and white, her face passive. The most passive person in the area.
Gently, intentionally, she puts her hand on Vantas’s arm and he jerks his head up to look at her. Slowly, she shakes her head.
“No,” you see him say. “No, no, no, no, no!”
She looks at you and she opens her mouth.
“Bear no burden,” she says, her voice crisp and clear and hallow, resounding in your head. “Seek no resolution.”
“Listen, listen to me,” Vantas adds. He’s leaning over you and inches from your face. ‘Back the fuck up,’ you want to say, but all that comes out of your mouth is blood. “Strider, if you can still hear me, you have to listen. For the love of god keep walking.”
What the fuck was that supp