Archive of Our Own

You've never been able to find the right words to describe what Christmas was like in the Strider household. Obscene usually comes to mind, along with over the top, loud, and obnoxious. There was never a Christmas that went by without Bro making a big deal out of it, and sure, you always got presents that were wildly inappropriate for your age bracket, but you wouldn't really change any of that. You were always able to wake up on December 25th and know what was going to happen. You'd wake up, wake Bro up in case he'd somehow forgotten what day it was, and proceed to spend the next 36 hours tearing the apartment to pieces, just in case there was an extra gift hidden somewhere.

You'd liked that. You're fairly confident in saying that Bro probably liked it more than you, because he was always be in a better mood for the ten days around Christmas. You were never sure if it was because he enjoyed having you there during the day, or if it was because he had the time off work to focus on making more smuppet porn. You'd be willing to put money down on the smuppet thing.

The last two Christmases have been passable, but hardly ideal. You were okay with that. There's not much else you could've done to make them any better. You're still stuck on this hunk of rock, hurtling through space, and you know that this Christmas will be the worst one yet. You know this because it's Christmas Eve, and no one else has even given the holidays the time of day. With everything going to shit around you, you're prepared for this to be the worst Christmas of your completely unironic life.

The whole situation has you in such a bad mood that you can't get the mix you're working on to sound right. You've been at it for over four hours tonight alone - four hours, thirty-eight minutes, and thirteen seconds - and you're sure it's only getting worse. You make a few more adjustments but you can't even hear the difference anymore. You sigh, then slip your headphones off and throw them onto the desk. You pick up your empty glass and spin your chair around with every intention of refilling it with more of whatever booze Rose has left lying around this time.

You're halfway to the door of your room before you realise that Karkat is lying in a pile on the floor. It takes you longer than it should to work out that he's pulled all the sheets and pillows from your bed for the pile, and longer again to notice that he's still awake and is watching you through barely open eyes.

DAVE: dude
DAVE: its three forty one in the morning
DAVE: how long have you even been there

He sits up in the pile, knees up, and wraps his arms around them. He looks tired, probably more tired than you feel, and you can't remember ever feeling as exhausted as you do right now. He shrugs.

KARKAT: WHAT TIME WAS IT WHEN YOU THREW THAT COMPACT DISC AT THE WALL?
DAVE: uh
DAVE: one twenty eight
KARKAT: THEN I'VE BEEN HERE FOR TWO HOURS AND THIRTEEN MINUTES.
DAVE: why
KARKAT: BECAUSE I HAD NOWHERE ELSE TO BE.
DAVE: seriously
KARKAT: PRETTY MUCH.
DAVE: oh so youre not even being an asshole
DAVE: cool
DAVE: i was going to take a piss
DAVE: and get another drink on the way back
DAVE: you want anything
KARKAT: YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP.
DAVE: nice
KARKAT: NO.
DAVE: no what
KARKAT: NO, I DON'T WANT ANYTHING.
DAVE: right
DAVE: if i dont come back
DAVE: you might want to come and find my corpse
DAVE: because i dont want the juggalo to decapitate me or anything
KARKAT: YEAH, YEAH.
DAVE: thanks man

You're not sure if you forgot to lock your door earlier or if Karkat's somehow figured out how to get into your respiteblock despite the lock. You're not sure which option is worse, but admittedly, you'd rather see him than anyone else in your block at the moment. Rose would probably throw up all over your shit, and Gamzee would make sure your filthy human blood got right into every crack in the floor. You're not even sure you want to see Terezi in a hallway let alone your room despite how long it's been. You suppose you wouldn't have any objection to Kanaya visiting you, but she'd probably just want to talk about Rose's problems some more, and you're pretty tapped out on that subject.

You stop in at the kitchen first, since it's further away, and fill your glass with what you assume to be some heavily spiked oj. You snatch up a bag of Doritos for good measure, and head back down to the bathroom. It seems like a good idea to leave the glass on the sink while you're in there, but the bag stays between your teeth while you take a piss. You make a half-assed effort to wash your hands and then wipe them dry on your god pjs. You pick up the glass again and hurry back through the corridors, as quietly as you can.

You lock the door one-handed as soon as you walk back into your block. You sit back down on the stool at your desk and drop the doritos down beside your headphones. Sniffing the glass before you take a drink seems like a good idea, but you regret it, and hesitate over the first sip because the whole thing smells like a glass full of paint thinner. Karkat clearly notices the scowl on your face, and for the first time in at least five hours, you realise you're not even wearing your shades. Why had you taken them off? The headache. You'd noticed the beginnings of a headache at ten fifty-three and had switched to using the lamp by your bed and the smaller one on your desk. You'd taken the glasses off because the light was low enough not to be irritating, and because it was midnight and you were locked in your room alone at the time.

You down half the glass in three mouthfuls.

KARKAT: THE LAST THING THIS FUCKING METEOR NEEDS IS ANOTHER PERPETUALLY DRUNK HUMAN.
DAVE: relax
DAVE: its one drink
DAVE: ive got this headache
DAVE: and everythings gone to shit
DAVE: even my rad skills are no longer rad
DAVE: so i think that one drink is well deserved
KARKAT: DAVE.
DAVE: what
KARKAT: IT'S BECAUSE TOMORROW IS YOUR HUMAN CHRISTMAS, ISN'T IT?
DAVE: i told you bro
DAVE: just because were diamonds or whatever
DAVE: doesnt mean im going to talk feelings
KARKAT: I WAS JUST POINTING OUT WHAT SEEMED TO BE THE FUCKING OBVIOUS.
DAVE: how do you even know that its human christmas
KARKAT: ONE, BECAUSE YOU'VE MADE US SUFFER THROUGH THAT BULLSHIT TWICE NOW, AND TWO, BECAUSE IT'S CLEARLY MARKED ON THAT CALENDAR BEHIND YOU.
DAVE: oh
DAVE: yeah
DAVE: i forgot about that one
DAVE: and honestly i didnt expect you to spend half your time in here
KARKAT: YEAH, AND I EXPECTED YOU TO PASS OUT FOUR HOURS AGO.
DAVE: youve only been here for two
KARKAT: YEAH, BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T PASS OUT FOUR HOURS AGO.
DAVE: seriously
DAVE: youre keeping tabs on my sleeping habits
DAVE: dude thats fucked
DAVE: is that normal
KARKAT: JEGUS FUCK, STRIDER. STOP MAKING METAPHORICAL MOUNTAINS OUT OF GROUNDBEAST HILLS.
KARKAT: YOUR LIFE HAS GONE TO SHIT AND I'M JUST MAKING SURE IT DOESN'T GET WORSE.
DAVE: by watching me sleep
DAVE: how does that work
KARKAT: BECAUSE IT JUST FUCKING DOES.
DAVE: ill take it
DAVE: you want some doritos
KARKAT: IT'S ALMOST THE NEXT WAKE-CYCLE.
DAVE: do you want them or not
KARKAT: YEAH.

You throw him the unopened bag of alchemized doritos. He doesn't need to know that you picked them up for him in the first place; he fucking loves the things. You've always felt that the alchemized ones taste too metallic. They're close, but there's something off about the flavour. Karkat doesn't know the difference, or he doesn't care. You spin your chair back around as your leg bounces up and down on the footrest and you polish off the rest of your drink in another few mouthfuls. It burns on the way down, more than any other drinks you've ever had, and it feels warm in your stomach. You have no idea what booze Rose put in there, but it doesn't go well with the oj. You didn't know it was possible for booze to not go with oj.

You're kind of disappointed you didn't bring the carton.

You hope that whatever was in the glass will be enough to put you to sleep. All you want is just something to take the edge off. Rose had a point, initially, even if she did run the point into the ground and shit all over it when the cure for her nerves became the source of everyone elses'. Karkat's giving you that look again, the concerned one that you're still not used to, and you wave it off. You want to tell him that teenage humans getting wasted when there's no adult supervision is just what happens, and the fact that you've only been incoherently drunk three times at your age is probably a world record. If you were at home, back in Texas without everything having fallen apart, you probably would've been going to parties every weekend.

There's a thought. It's a pretty good argument, really. You'd be a Sophomore right now if everything had gone on as normal. Jegus fucking Christ, you're up to 10th grade and you never even finished 7th. You'd be driving, as much as Bro hated the idea of you ever getting behind the wheel. You'd be invited to all the cool parties, and probably would've hosted a couple yourself. There would have been parties where you hooked up with girls, human girls at that, and didn't make it home until Monday after classes. There would have been the wild parties over the summer where everything was sticky from the humidity and all anyone wanted to do was lie around in their underwear, cool beers in hand while the sun went down. You think you would have liked those parties the best.

But there's nothing left in Houston. You're not even sure that Houston exists as a place anymore. You doubt it. The parties aren't real, and neither are the girls. You never even got the chance to get so drunk, so completely wasted, that you couldn't stand up and someone needed to call Bro to come and pick you up. And he would have needed to literally pick you up from the ground to throw you into the back of the car where the air was even thicker because the air conditioner hadn't worked since 2003.

You miss it. You miss it all, and it never even happened.

You hunch over, resting your forehead in your hands. There's a wire beneath your elbows and it's digging in a little, but you couldn't care less. You shift the heels of your palms and press them into your eyes, just hard enough for the colours to start swimming across the blackness. One hand moves to reach for your glass while the other continues to prop your head up. The glass is still empty, just the way you left it.

There's a punch on your arm, then. Not a hard one, but hard enough to remind you that Karkat is still there, and that he's probably convinced you're walking the same plank that Rose did. He grabs the seat of your stool and spins it so that you're no longer facing the wall. You've pretty much accepted what he's about to do but you're too tired to care. You're so tired that you don't even have the will to push him away, so you let him stand there, hugging your head to his chest. You feel a pat on the back and you're not sure if he's trying to imitate what you described a few weeks back as an acceptable, human male companionship hug, or if he's started with the paps.

You don't say anything though, because as much as you're the one sitting here upset about a stupid summer vacation that never even happened, he's lost his home planet, too. You tend to forget that.

DAVE: bro you better not have that orange dorito shit on your fingers
KARKAT: NOPE.

You feel him attempt to dust off the spot he'd been patting before he lets go, and can't help but crack a grin.

DAVE: you can let go now
KARKAT: NO, YOU NEED A BIT LONGER.

It's not much longer, twenty-nine seconds, but when he does let go you agree that those twenty-nine seconds were helpful, in their own way. He pulls up another stool and sits down beside you, staring at all the dials, switches, and buttons on your desk.

KARKAT: YOU ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO WORK ALL THIS SHIT?
DAVE: fuck yeah i do
DAVE: most days
DAVE: nothings sounding right tonight
DAVE: i was about to give up
KARKAT: WHAT WERE YOU TRYING TO DO?

You hesitate.

DAVE: dubstep medley christmas remix
KARKAT: THAT DIDN'T EXPLAIN ANYTHING.
DAVE: i got all these christmas songs
DAVE: like jingle bells and shit
DAVE: and smashed them together
DAVE: to try and make them sound better
DAVE: so i had some ironic as shit music to listen to tomorrow
DAVE: but it just sounds ridiculous
KARKAT: EVEN THE IDEA SOUNDS RIDICULOUS.
DAVE: here

You hand him your headphones and he puts them on, although it takes a bit of maneuvering to get them sitting comfortably around his horns. A slight adjustment to the volume, because you know you had it up louder than was necessary, and you hit play.

He doesn't look impressed but then he's not impressed by anything. The scowl fades forty-eight seconds in, to something more thoughtful and it's almost as if he's actually impressed by your attempt. You guess it's possible. He doesn't know what it's supposed to sound like. He hasn't got the exact sound you want in his head so he's got no point of reference. You wish you could get that sound out and onto the track but you can't, and that's what's got you so annoyed about the whole thing. It's stuck, playing on repeat in your head with no way out, and this shitty imitation is the best you can do.

It plays until the end, and Karkat pulls the headphones down around his neck. He doesn't say anything and you're getting impatient for at least some response. You can hear time flowing again and it's the most annoying sound in the world right now, because all you want is the feedback even if it's an insult.

KARKAT: I DON'T GET IT.
DAVE: of course you dont
DAVE: you dont do christmas
DAVE: or dubstep
DAVE: unless you do
DAVE: and if you do why havent i heard any yet
DAVE: troll dubsteps got to be better than that shitty alternian slam poetry
KARKAT: NO, I DON'T GET WHY YOU'RE UPSET ABOUT THIS. IT'S NOT COMPLETELY TERRIBLE BUT THAT COULD BE BECAUSE I DON'T FEEL ANY SYMPATHY FOR THIS DOUCHE WITH THE RED NOSE.
DAVE: rudolphs a champ
DAVE: doesnt take shit from anyone
DAVE: and look where it gets him
DAVE: promoted to fucking leader of the flying reindeer parade
KARKAT: THE FUCK IS A REINDEER
DAVE: dude weve been over this
DAVE: snow dwelling hoofbeasts
KARKAT: WHATEVER. WHAT ARE THOSE?
DAVE: what are what

He's pointing to the stack of cds on your desk, right down the end. You don't blame him for not knowing what they are because they're already wrapped, in shitty and completely-authentic 100% Strider-alchemized-specially-made ironic Christmas paper. They've been there for a week already and you were set to throw them out into space later tomorrow afternoon, when the day turned out to be as disappointing as you expected. You hesitate again.

DAVE: mix cds
DAVE: theres one for everyone

You even made one for Gamzee, but you don't know why. It wasn't that hard. You just picked out a whole bunch of stuff that he would have liked before he went into batshit murderclown overdrive. The same thought process went into making Terezi's. You know her, or you did, and it was easy to scroll through your music library and have the right tracks just jump out at you. Kanaya's was the hardest though and you'd been stuck on a playlist for her for days. You got there in the end. You're still not entirely happy with it, but if you all survive in the new session, and stay alive until next Christmas, you'll remake it. Rose's wasn't too hard, but you had a difficult time deciding what mood to take. You went for a combination of songs she'll enjoy, and ones that will make her laugh. You thought it was important for her to have something to make her laugh, especially when she's sober.

KARKAT: ARE YOU JUST GOING TO LEAVE THEM THERE?
DAVE: why
KARKAT: BECAUSE IT'S ALMOST HUMAN CHRISTMAS MORNING, AND I COULD BE WRONG BUT YOUR EARTH SANTA CLAUS VISITS THE NIGHT BEFORE, DOESN'T HE?
DAVE: are you seriously suggesting
DAVE: that i go and play santa
DAVE: and leave these stupid cds lying around for them
DAVE: they dont even know its christmas
DAVE: theyre too wrapped up in all this fucking bs thats been going on the last few months
DAVE: so i dont blame them
DAVE: but theres no point
DAVE: even rose probably doesnt know its christmas
DAVE: rose probably doesnt even know what month it is
DAVE: theyve been there for a week already
DAVE: whats another eternity
KARKAT: STRIDER, GET OFF YOUR SORRY ASS AND JUST DO IT.
KARKAT: SERIOUSLY. IT'LL TAKE YOU A WHOLE THREE MINUTES.
DAVE: was that supposed to be encouraging?
KARKAT: AND BRING ME BACK SOME MORE DORITOS.
DAVE: asshole

You shove him sideways with enough force to topple the stool, but he's clutching the edge of the desk with his claws and he manages to keep his balance. You're not even sure he gives a shit about Christmas, but you can see the appeal in more Doritos. It's four thirteen in the morning and you're about to go simultaneously play Santa and your favourite game of don't get murdered by Gamzee in the dark. You snatch up the pile of cds and walk out. You consider saying something else to Karkat, but you have no idea what to say. Worst case scenario, 'asshole' isn't a bad last thing to have said to him if you die again. You'll get another chance to come up with something better.

You head around to Terezi's block first, to get it over and done with. Her cd is wrapped in as many colours as the alchemiter could get onto one piece of paper. It's like some epileptic acid trip gone wrong and you're sure she'll love it so much that she'll never even realise the cd is in there. You fiddle with the wrapping for a moment, ensuring that all the tape is where it should be - it is - then leave the gift propped up just outside the door, where it won't be immediately stepped on.

You leave two cds outside Kanaya's room, on the little table that you assume is only there because she likes the aesthetic it gives the hallway. There's no point leaving Rose's by her own room since you're not sure of the last time she even slept in there. The last time you'd brought the subject up, Kanaya had said that if Rose was going to drink until she passed out, she'd rather have her unconscious somewhere she could listen out for her in the night, and that had been months ago. As far as you're aware, they're both under the impression that you think Rose sleeps on a couch. You've never really had the heart to argue Kanaya on that one.

Gamzee's is the hardest because you never know where he's going to turn up. You figure that since you're headed to the kitchen anyway, and he has to come out for food eventually, you'll leave it on a bench in there. You're not sure if he'll see the humour in the cd being wrapped in paper with horns all over it, and you're still not sure you see the joke, either. It's too late for that though because you leave it out for him, beside the thermal hull, because that's where he's most likely to look. You grab the carton of spiked oj and pick up some more doritos and a box of strawberry poptarts for good measure, because as far as you're concerned it's already Christmas morning and nothing says Christmas morning like a champion's breakfast.

You hurry back to your block because you can hear scuffling noises in the vents. The last thing you need is the sight of that stupid fucking codpiece right now, because you're not about to let anything put you off your poptarts.

Karkat gets a bag of Doritos to the head when you walk in. You drop back onto your stool and sort out the shit you're carrying on the desk in front of you. The oj gets put down carefully, because you do not need that shit getting into everything, while the poptarts get stashed up on the shelf above your turntables where they're still in easy reach. When Karkat sits back up properly, because he was picking up the Doritos from the floor, you realise he's got your headphones on again and has them plugged in to your laptop. He shifts one earpiece so he can listen to what you're saying.

DAVE: dude what are you listening to
KARKAT: I'VE GOT NO IDEA. BUT YOU'VE GOT ABOUT SIX YEARS OF MUSIC ON HERE.
DAVE: yeah i used the punch designix to get a captchalogue card for a picture of the tardis
DAVE: and crossed it with my old machine
DAVE: its a laptop thats big enough on the storage side to hold infinite files
DAVE: basically
DAVE: i never gave it a name
DAVE: its just really useful
KARKAT: I CAN SEE THAT. ARE YOU DRINKING MORE OF ROSE'S EARTH BOOZE?
DAVE: you can just call it booze
DAVE: and yes
DAVE: im pretty sure i want to sleep through tomorrow
DAVE: oh hey
DAVE: heres yours

You close up the oj carton and hand Karkat the last cd. It's wrapped in shitty paper, black with red crabs, but you couldn't figure out what other design to put on it. While he's turning it over and over, you take a cautious mouthful of juice, then down half the glass and refill it while he's distracted by the gift. He tears the paper off and flips the case over, and there's a shitty SBAHJ comic instead of an inlay, which you thought was a personal touch. Everyone got one.

KARKAT: WHAT'S ON IT?
DAVE: highway to hell fifteen times
KARKAT: WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?
DAVE: because were on the fucking highway to hell
DAVE: and well probably all die as soon as we hit the new session
KARKAT: SERIOUSLY? YOU WENT OUT OF YOUR WAY TO BE AN ASSHOLE?
DAVE: no
DAVE: not really
DAVE: i didnt get to finish yours
KARKAT: YOU SAID THEY'VE BEEN FINISHED FOR A WEEK.
DAVE: yeah those ones have
DAVE: the christmas remix was supposed to go on yours
DAVE: everyones got one strider special kick ass remix
DAVE: but i couldnt get this one right
DAVE: i still cant
DAVE: sorry bro
KARKAT: YOU'RE A LAZY SHIT. WHAT THE FUCK ELSE HAVE YOU BEEN DOING WITH YOUR TIME?
DAVE: i dunno
DAVE: youll get it eventually
KARKAT: YOU JUST SAID YOU THINK WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE IN THE NEW SESSION.
KARKAT: THIS IS JUST YOU BEING A SHITTY PERSON. YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO FINISH IT.
DAVE: dude i just let you listen to it before
DAVE: it just doesnt sound right yet
DAVE: youll get it when it does

You go to finish the oj but Karkat snatches it straight from your hand, and puts the glass at the far end of your bench, out of reach.

KARKAT: DAVE.
DAVE: what
KARKAT: GET IN THE PILE.
DAVE: dude no
KARKAT: WELL GET INTO YOUR SO CALLED BED BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT GOING TO STAY UP AND DRINK YOURSELF INTO OBLIVION LIKE YOU'RE LALONDE.
DAVE: i told you before man
DAVE: this
DAVE: not a problem
DAVE: rose
DAVE: epic fucking problems
DAVE: give me ten
DAVE: then ill go the fuck to bed
KARKAT: GOOD.
DAVE: you just gonna sit here all night
DAVE: because thats weird
KARKAT: FUCK YOU. HAVE YOUR TEN MINUTES, BUT YOU CAN'T FINISH DRINKING THAT SHIT.
DAVE: what are you my mother
KARKAT: NO, BECAUSE YOU NEVER HAD A FEMALE HUMAN LUSUS.
DAVE: nah
DAVE: i didnt

You skip out on the desk chair and this time you don't even bother trying to push Karkat to the floor. Instead, you half fall, half dive onto your bed in the least graceful way possible. You forget that it had somehow been stripped without you noticing and that all the sheets are on the floor. You don't really care.

That hadn't really ever bothered you before, not even at Christmas. Sure, you'd pestered Bro about it a few times when you were a kid, before you could see that it kind of upset him, too, even just asking about it. By the time last Christmas had rolled around, you were having these strange thoughts about what it would have been like if your parents - genetic parents - had raised you and Rose together. Bro and her Mom, together as well, which was a weird thought but no stranger than the fact you somehow, out of all the people in the world, befriended your own twin sister via the internet. It would have been nice. Different, but nice. There definitely would've been less smuppet porn.

And with that thought, you're stuck on the notion of what could have been. You're not sure if it's because the cabin fever is finally closing in or what, but you can't remember ever feeling so disconnected from what was once your reality. You'd pay someone to send you back to Houston. You'd probably give up your own arm, your strifing arm, just to get back there. Okay, maybe not your strifing arm, but something of equal value. You'd give up the time powers for sure. You'd trade everything in, everything that's happened since Egbert's thirteenth birthday, for the chance to go back and live that life, the one with Bro, and Rose, and her Mom.

KARKAT: WAS THAT TOO FAR?

You turn your head and he's still sitting at your workbench, headphones around his neck. You don't even know how you got here. You know how you got into bed, you fell into it, but you can't recall all the details that lead up to this exact moment.

DAVE: nah
DAVE: im just a complete fucking wreck right now
DAVE: just give me a couple days
DAVE: ill be fine
DAVE: remember
DAVE: human teenagers are the worst things ever created
KARKAT: THAT'S NOT ENTIRELY TRUE.
DAVE: whats worse
KARKAT: SHITTY FUCKING RAPS WRITTEN BY PASTY WHITE HUMAN TEENAGERS.
DAVE: now that was too far bro
DAVE: get out

You try, you really do, but you can't stop yourself from cracking a grin. It's only small, but it's enough for Karkat to know he's won the argument.

KARKAT: YOU'RE PATHETIC.
DAVE: okay you can leave now
DAVE: just throw me my blankets first
KARKAT: YOU CAN REACH THEM FROM THERE.
DAVE: nope
KARKAT: THEY'RE CLEARLY WITHIN REACH.
DAVE: they might as well be in the new session already
DAVE: way too far
DAVE: ill never reach them
DAVE: ill just lie here and freeze to death
DAVE: then respawn
DAVE: and die again
KARKAT: SHUT YOUR FUCKING IGNORANCE TUNNEL ALREADY.
KARKAT: JUST MOVE YOUR ARM AND GRAB IT YOURSELF.

You make a pathetic show of moving your arm upwards by about two inches. In the end, Karkat rolls his eyes and stands up. He almost tries to walk away with the headphones still around his neck, but makes just about as much of a fuss putting them down as you've been making about the blankets. He picks one up from the pile and throws it at you, then picks up a pillow and tosses that as well.

KARKAT: THERE. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?
DAVE: so happy
DAVE: never happier
KARKAT: LYING SACK OF SHIT.
DAVE: you rang
KARKAT: WHAT?
DAVE: look im actually going to sleep now
DAVE: if i can get to sleep
DAVE: so go back to your own block and ill see you later
DAVE: im pretty sure theres no christmas dinner this year

You fix the pillow so it's beneath your head, not over your face, which was probably a deliberate move in all honesty, and pull the blanket up. Between the god pjs and Rose's booze, you're starting to actually feel like you could get a full night's sleep.

DAVE: hey before you go
KARKAT: WHAT NOW?
DAVE: pass me my shades
KARKAT: YOU'RE FUCKING KIDDING ME.
DAVE: not even a little bit
DAVE: have you ever tried opening your eyes in the morning
KARKAT: NO, NEVER.
DAVE: douche
DAVE: yeah well its like that
DAVE: but if every source of light was the green sun
DAVE: and its right in your fucking face
DAVE: so pass me my shades vantas

He's muttering something to himself but he picks up the shades from your desk and hands them to you anyway. You reach over and sit them at the top of your mattress, up near the headboard where you're not going to roll over and break them. You're sure that Karkat thought you were going to put them on and that was half the point, but you prefer your shades intact since you'll need them if you want to leave your block at all in the future.

Then, you're dozing. You're awake enough that you can still hear time ticking by, but not conscious enough to focus on the exact minute. It's five something, you can't focus on anything more specific than that. It might not even be quite that yet. You've come to enjoy this state, where you're neither asleep or awake, but the distant passing of time is still there, right in your ear, comforting after all these months in paradox space. There's another sound though, and it's not one you can place. Or, you recognise it but it's not strange. The sounds of sheets rustling around you is nothing new, you spent months of your childhood hiding under bedsheets to avoid things. You're sure that you're lying still, or still enough, and it's not a noise that registers as something of importance.

The cough, however, is something that does.

You groan into the pillow, because now you're awake and not dozing, and you were hoping to stay in that half unconscious state forever. An eye cracks open, just a little, because after half an hour of dozing even your low-watt lamps are too much. Karkat is lying next to you, and the rest of your sheets have been thrown over you, still mostly in a pile.

DAVE: dude we need to talk about boundaries

You mutter the comment and try to sit up, but a hand to the face stops you. You'd call it a slap that got you in the eye, but you're sure it was meant to be a pap.

DAVE: okay what was that for
DAVE: and please tell me youre still dressed
KARKAT: OF COURSE I FUCKING AM. AND THAT WAS FOR TRYING TO SIT UP.
DAVE: yeah thats always a good excuse for a slap in the face
KARKAT: I COULDN'T JUST LEAVE.
DAVE: doors right over there bro
DAVE: ill still be here tomorrow
DAVE: sleeping
KARKAT: YEAH, BUT IT'S YOUR HUMAN CHRISTMAS AND FROM WHAT I KNOW, IT'S SHITTY AS FUCK TO SPEND HUMAN CHRISTMAS ALONE.
DAVE: its worse to spend it with an ugly troll in your bed
KARKAT: HILARIOUS.
DAVE: not my best
DAVE: im pretty much asleep here
KARKAT: HEY, DAVE?

You don't answer him straight away. You're still not comfortable with the idea of him in your bed like this, even if you are both fully clothed and have no intentions for that to change. It was only fifty-five days ago you accepted that extreme bros was something you could probably do, and no matter how diamonds you are with the guy, you're not talking feelings. You just add it to the mental list of things you never expected to do, entitled 'sleep under a literal pile of blankets with your not quite platonic anymore but also completely not homo alien bro'.

DAVE: what
KARKAT: THIS IS ALL ABOUT YOUR HUMAN MALE LUSUS, ISN'T IT?
DAVE: nope

You're not about to tell him he's hit the nail on the thinkpan. The whole Christmas shebang wouldn't be such a big deal for you if Bro hadn't made it such a big deal when you were a kid. But he did, and now you're stuck trying to recapture something that doesn't exist anymore. That's what hit the hardest, the moment when you realised that Christmas, the biggest event of the year to anyone under about ten, is now completely non-existent throughout every parallel universe you've encountered. It can't exist without humans, and as far as you know, there's only eight of you left.

KARKAT: MY LUSUS IS DEAD TOO, YOU KNOW.
DAVE: were not getting into this dude
DAVE: its getting too much like a feelings jam
KARKAT: THAT'S THE POINT. YOU HAVE NO FUCKING HOPE OF GETTING OVER THE DEATH OF YOUR LUSUS IF YOU DON'T EVER TALK ABOUT IT.
DAVE: one
DAVE: i dont do feelings jams
DAVE: two
DAVE: i dont do feelings jams
KARKAT: THOSE ARE EXACTLY THE SAME, DIPSHIT.
DAVE: fight club bro
DAVE: we only watched it a week ago
DAVE: three
DAVE: ill get over it when im good and ready
DAVE: and thats not this christmas
KARKAT: ARE YOU TRYING TO DRAW THIS OUT FOR ETERNITY? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN BY NEXT HUMAN CHRISTMAS. YOU COULD BE DEAD.
DAVE: yeah i could be
DAVE: so could you
KARKAT: EVERYONE COULD BE DEAD BY THEN. EVERYONE COULD BE DEAD IN SIX OF YOUR MONTHS. IF YOU DIE A DEATH THAT STICKS, YOU'LL DIE THINKING THAT YOU NEVER GOT OVER THE DEATH OF YOU HUMAN LUSUS.
DAVE: this is getting a bit too much like one of roses shitty psychoanalysis sessions
KARKAT: SO?
DAVE: so i told you before
DAVE: i dont do feelings jams
DAVE: and yeah im sorry that i cant do this diamonds shit properly
DAVE: but the last thing i want to talk about right now
DAVE: or ever
DAVE: with anyone not just not with you
DAVE: is the fact that my bro died on johns planet
KARKAT: DID HE?
DAVE: yeah
DAVE: jack
DAVE: stabbed him
DAVE: right through the fucking chest
DAVE: while he was already down
KARKAT: DAVE?
DAVE: what
KARKAT: I'M SORRY THAT YOUR BRO IS DEAD.

You don't know what to say to that. Instead, you just turn over onto your side and stare at the wall because the last thing you need right now is for Karkat fucking Vantas to realise you're actually pretty upset about the whole thing, and its easier to just ignore the fact he's even there than to deal with the epic fallout if he notices.

He takes the hint and shuts up, but he doesn't move. Then he starts flailing around and you're close to kicking him in the shins to get him to stop, but it's not long before you figure out what he's doing. The blankets are now spread out over the two of you, rather than sitting piled up on your stomach. You kind of appreciate the gesture but you put it down to the fact that even with your shoes still on, your feet were getting cold. You still don't say anything. Sober Dave would have said something, but 'at least four and a half glasses of Rose's moonshine'-addled Dave really can't find the will to give a shit. A final rustle, and then silence. Just to be sure, you pull one of the pillows down behind you, to fill the space between your backs.

Sometimes, you've thought of making a documentary about your life. You've thought about the possibility a few times, especially back in the early days on the meteor, because that shit was insane. You're convinced that moments like this, when you wake up so suddenly that your eyes snap open before they can adjust - which leaves you hissing in pain but that's beyond the point - would make the best cut scenes.

They're a lot clumsier in real life.

You reach up over the pillow for your shades and slip them on, because you've left the lamps on overnight and it really does feel like you're staring into the Green Sun. It takes a while for everything to fall into place and when you can hear the ticking, slowly steadying itself and settling into a dull noise by your ear, you realise that it's three fifty-six in the afternoon and you've managed to sleep through most of the day. Bathroom. You really need to get there, and soon.

You roll out of bed and almost hit the floor because it takes your legs a few minutes longer to realise you're awake and moving. At least you're already dressed. Your sneakers squeak on the steel floor as you leave your block, pulling the door shut behind you. It's further than you remember to the bathroom and you only just make it in time - you don't even bother checking the stalls for wayward juggalos first. You almost piss on your god pjs and that's enough to make you laugh, the fact that you almost fucked up something you've been doing on your own since you were two.

It's a toss up between heading straight to the pity party raging on in your block, or going back via the common room. You debate going by Can Town to say hi to the Mayor but he was busy working on a new housing development the other day and you don't want to disrupt the guy. There's that box of poptarts on the shelf though, you could eat those. That sounds like a plan. Strawberry fuckin' poptarts, room-temperature spiked oj, and the most pitiful party you've ever hosted.

There's voices though, and that's enough to catch your interest. It's worth a look, anyway, because your ears prick up at the sound of laughter. It's Rose. It's Rose, laughing, and it's her normal laugh and not her hysterical, shrill laugh, and then you're running as fast as you can to the kitchen because no, fuck this shit, all you want is fucking Christmas and you'll take Christmas In Space with your alcoholic twin sister over nothing.

You come to a sudden stop in the doorway, clutching the wall as you give yourself a minute to catch your breath, because wow, sports are really not your thing. Rose is in there, smiling, laughing, looking completely embarrassed by something but you don't care. She's in there and she's sitting next to Kanaya, Kanaya with her lights on and shining so bright that your eyes narrow automatically even behind your shades. You figure it was something she said, or did, that's got Rose in such a state but you don't care. It's Christmas fucking Day and Rose is laughing and Kanaya is glowing, literally, and there's fucking food on the table, jegus christ there's food on the table.

Karkat's elbow is on the table as well, propping up his chin and he's trying to look like he's not laughing as well, so you guess that someone did something hilarious while you were taking a piss and sulking in the hallway. Then he gives you this look, and it's just a look of acknowledgement and a hey, nice of you to fucking show up look, but you don't care. He could have been waiting around the corner with a sickle raised for all you care right now. You don't think you could give any less shits about anything, because it's fucking Christmas and this is the closest bullshit you've got to family, but you'll take it.

You slide into the seat opposite Rose and accept the glass of soda she's holding out. She smiles across at you and there's nothing to do except smile back, and you mean it. Kanaya's already filling a plate for you and you can't say no to that either, because someone's gone to the effort to break out all the traditional Christmas shit and Dave Strider doesn't say no to Christmas shit.

Karkat kicks you under the table. It's not a hard kick, just one meant to get your attention because you haven't said anything yet. You kick back, a sharp one that connects with his ankle and causes him to flinch. He gets the point. You start eating, because fuck, you're hungry, and you can't remember when you last are something that had once been a vegetable, but you pull out your phone.

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TG: so did you do this
CG: DO WHAT? THEY WERE ALREADY HERE.
TG: bullfuckingshit
CG: I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING.
TG: just so you know
TG: if you hug me again
TG: ill wait until youre asleep
TG: and give you a platonic punch in the stomach
CG: JEGUS DAVE, YOU WERE UPSET.
TG: the strider doesnt get upset
TG: no hugs
CG: FINE.

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]

It's not Houston. It'll never be Houston, and you'll never be back in Houston. You can hope as much as you like that the game ends like the Wizard of Oz, and you'll wake up in your own bed with a smuppet ass in your face. You'll realise that the postman looks like Karkat and Bro will be fucking around on the roof and you'll go back to normal.

It's not going to happen.

But you're shovelling turkey into your face like you haven't eaten in months, Rose is sober and laughing and has Kanaya's fingers entwined with hers, and even Karkat is grinning like the douchebag he is. It's fucking Christmas. It's not as over the top, or loud, or obnoxious as you're accustomed to, but it's close. It's December 25th and right now, after the shitty few years you've had, you wouldn't trade this for anything in all of paradox space.