All in Time

Chapter 8

I noticed how you could hear practically everything from his room. Karkat explained that the house was pretty old and the walls were thin. In his words 'They are literally fucking paper. I hear everything. You think you're alone? Think again, bitch.'

Karkat always said the stupidest shit, but I liked it anyway.

"So, uh, what should we do? I'm bored as fuck." I asked. We had been laying on his bed for some time now, and I'm getting antsy as hell.

"Sleep. Do you realize what an awful headache I have right now, Assfuck?" He answered. Assfuck. I see what you did there, Karkles.

I couldn't help but snicker at the insult and I could feel him smirk against my shoulder, like the pun was intended. It probably was.

"But fine, we can do something. I'm not leaving this fucking room, though." He added.

"I'm going to be a nosy little shit and go through your sketchbook." I said. He looked at me and then shook his head. Regardless, he got up and grabbed one from off the shelf.

"These are probably old and shitty but I don't care." He said, shoving the sketchbook into my hands lightly and laying down again.

I looked through the book in awe. Why was this guy so perfect? I don't understand. He noticed my expression and shoved his face into his pillows.

He probably wasn't used to positive feedback. Poor guy.

"These are really good. Like, wow. Just. . . I have lost my ability to even." I said, only half-joking.

"Strider, you are such a suck-up. Why are you kissing my ass?" He asked, face still shoved in his pillow.

"Well, I mean I could kiss your ass, but that's a little too erotic for right now, don't you think?" I teased.

He threw his pillow at me, face blushing the color of a slightly tan tomato. Hot.

"Fuck off. You know that's not what I meant, you little crow-shit." He retorted. He crossed his arms indignantly and looked away. I laughed a little bit longer and then looked back at the picture of the man on the wall.

"Who's that in the picture on the wall over there?" I asked, pointing towards it.

"Uh, that's my dad." He said quietly. I nodded in reply. That's why they looked so similar. Why didn't you think of that, Strider?

"What does your dad look like, since we are on the topic of our childhood caretakers somehow." He asked.

"Um, well. My dad looks like an old guy. He has brownish hair but it's mostly grey now." I said.

"How did you happen then? Your hair is almost white. Is that even natural?" He asked, running his fingers through my hair, getting his fingers snagged on few tangles.

"He's my, um, foster dad. I never really knew my real parents." I mumbled. I didn't like thinking about how I barely knew my parents. I know my mom had hair like mine and Rose's and my dad had yellow-ish blonde hair like Roxy had. And him.

My dad had copper-brown eyes, and my mom had blue eyes. I got my dad's genes, while my sisters got my mom's. Roxy wore pink contacts, though.

"Oh, sorry. I was just curious I didn't mean to bring anything bad up." He apologized. I didn't want to hear him feel sorry for something he could've never known anything about until now.

"It's fine. I'm okay. It was years ago, I've gotten over it. Sort of." I reassured him, flashing him a smile in an attempt to make it a stronger claim. He smiled lightly and kept quiet.

"What happened? If you don't mind me asking, that is." He asked. This question was going to come up sooner or later.

"It's okay. You seem like your just concerned and I trust you." I said. Karkat nodded and scooted closer to me and grabbed hold of my hand.

"My parents died in a car crash when I was about 6 years old. It was some drunk driver's fault. Our family always learned how to fight when they were little. We would normally start learning when we were 7 or 8. After their deaths, my brother never really was the same again. He was the oldest. He was about 17 at the time, and Roxy was 15 and my brother was about to be 18 anyway, so he was in charge of us.

He began forcing me to start fighting even though I was so little. Roxy was able to keep Rose out of the predicament, wasn't really able to help me without getting vast helping of 'You're going to make them weak, useless wastes of space.' He didn't care about us, he was a sick bastard and everyone knew it." I took a deep breath. Tears had started forming in my eyes, but I didn't want to cry. Not in front of Karkat. He just squeezed my hand tighter.

"When we all split up a few months later, he took custody of me while Roxy and Rose went to a foster family here in New York. Roxy wanted to help, and she said she felt awful. I forgave her, though. My brother continued to make me fight and he started making me fight on top of our 5 story apartment building with him.

When he turned 20 two years later, his whole 'porn industry' started. He never really got anywhere with those puppets. It was really gross. He mostly got views from pop-up links on other websites.

One day, I'm guessing one of the neighbors saw him fighting me on the roof and called CPS or some shit. It was either roof fighting, or they heard yelling. All I know is that I saw a nice lady standing at the door and she said that I couldn't live there anymore.

When it happened, I didn't know whether I should've cried out of joy or out of fear. I just stood there. I didn't know what to think, I guess. I mean, he scared me, yeah, but I had this mutual love for him. He had kept me alive, so I guess that's where it stemmed from.

My foster parents took me in a few months later, and they explained how wrong everything my brother did to me was, and I just grew to hate him." I explained. I didn't care, I trusted Karkat, and he deserved to know the full story.

I was crying, and the tears burned. I hated crying in front of people, but sometimes I couldn't help it. Stuff piled up, you know. It hard to bottle everything up and hide behind a stoic face and shades for long periods of time.

"If it makes you feel any better, I barely knew my mom and my dad passed away while I was in high school." Karkat whispered.

At least I'm not alone in this crazy, upside down world.

I hugged him tightly and he hugged me back. He let me hug him for as long as I wanted, and I loved it. I cried on his shoulder, practically drenching it in tears.

I don't have to bottle myself up for him, and for that, I am grateful.

______________________________________________

What up.

I'm proud of this chapter. It reveals a lot about Dave's home life when he was younger.

I want to apologize for any errors in this. If you spot one, please tell me :)

But yeah. Bro is an asshole canonically and in my HC so yeah....

I was never fond of Bro. I was ok with Dirk. He's an ass for storyline purposes.

Look at me, finally living up to my claim of putting songs in my chapters. I feel accomplished.

If you're wondering, the song was Santa Monica Dream by Angus & Julia Stone. It was also in the Life Is Strange soundtrack.

See you guys next time!

~Ghostie