It was a miracle that Karkat had been able to set the alarm on his phone without waking up Dave before crashing. To be fair, Dave was a bit cried out and probably wouldn't have woken up unless the world was ending, but Karkat was afraid of moving any more than necessary in case Dave's head fell off of his shoulder and he rolled ass backwards onto the floor.

When the obnoxious default beeping that Karkat had been too tired to change started up that morning, he woke to discover that the both of them had collapsed onto their backs and were awkwardly sprawled across the bed in a messy tangle. As could be expected, Dave did nothing but groan in response to the sound, so Karkat had to carefully extract himself from the bed before squinting around at the floor in an attempt to locate and turn off his phone.

Once he had finally succeeded, he returned to the bed and attempted to rouse the comatose Dave.

"Hey. Get up. I'm gonna make sure you actually get ready today, not just throw on a shirt and chug an apple juice or whatever."

Dave groaned again and felt around for something. Finally, he muttered sleepily, "The fuck is the blanket?"

"We didn't have time, you passed out after…" Karkat stopped, not sure how to finish that sentence.

Dave seemed to have forgotten what happened until that exact moment. In an instant, he was completely awake and sitting up. "Oh. Right." Without another word, he stood up and headed for the bathroom. Karkat heard the door shut, then the sounds of a shower being turned on.

Well that was…curt. Karkat tried not to let it get to him as he made his way to the kitchen to start making breakfast. He briefly considered attempting to wake up Dirk, but decided that wasn't something he wanted to deal with. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Dave's older brother kind of scared him. Not the scared-for-your-life kind of fear, but the fear that comes with knowing someone who's older and more competent than you will ever be and being completely awestruck by that revelation.

Karkat wasn't really sure what to make for breakfast, but he'd given himself lots of time to do it and decided eggs and bacon was the way to go. How can you go wrong with eggs and bacon?

As he got the bacon cooking, he heard a door down the hall open as Dirk blearily poked his head out of his room and stared at Karkat. "Karkat, what are you doing...it's early...go to sleep."

"Actually, it's only about an hour and a half before we have to leave for school, so–"

"That's so early," Dirk protested, grimacing as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"Yeah well, unlike some people, I like to be able to eat and shower before I leave the house."

Dirk was about to respond, but suddenly paused. A look of confusion crossed his face. "Are you...are you making bacon?"

"I am, in fact. And eggs. Because I like to eat an actual meal for breakfast rather than chug a Mountain Dew and call it good."

"Did you...put on enough for everyone?"

"Of course I did, what kind of asshole would only make food for himself?" Dirk seemed ecstatic. Or at least, as ecstatic as somebody who's about to fall over from sleep deprivation can seem. Karkat cut him off before he could say any thanks. "But! There's a catch. Only showered and hygiene-d Striders get my food. Otherwise you have to fend for yourself."

The light faded from Dirk's face as Karkat spoke. "Are you serious?"

"Yes! How is that even up for debate? Do you revel in living in a cloud of filth so much that it would kill you to brush your teeth once in a fucking while?"

"Geez, fine, you got me." Dirk sighed as he turned around and walked to the bathroom.

"I'd wait a second, I think Dave's in there right now." Dirk stopped, then turned to look at Karkat. There was something halfway between concern and anger on his face that gave Karkat a sudden sense of utter dread.

"Oh. Okay." Without another word, he disappeared into his room. The door shut with a decisive click.

"Why is everybody acting so fucking weird?" Karkat muttered to himself. He tried his best not to dwell on it as he poked at the bacon. It didn't work. By the time he heard the bathroom door open a few minutes later, he had worked himself up into a nervous wreck. He turned to see Dave sort of shuffle in a daze through the hall and back into his bedroom. Karkat had meant to call out something to him, tell him that breakfast was almost ready, but something about the way he was moving frightened Karkat even more than he already was. He decided instead to watch in distress as Dave's door clicked softly shut behind him.

Another few minutes, and it was time to take the bacon off and start the eggs. Karkat thanked every available god that the Striders had allowed him to organize things as he deftly maneuvered through the kitchen to find a serving plate, a bowl to crack the eggs into, a whisk, and his favorite set of spices: basil and oregano.

"Hey assholes, breakfast is almost done! Get your asses out here before it gets cold," Karkat yelled down the hall. He cracked seven eggs into the bowl (geez, that was a lot), then whisked, seasoned, and poured. There was a loud, satisfying crackle as the eggs hit the still-hot bacon grease.

"What the fuck was that?!" Dirk asked, coming into the kitchen with a start.

"Uh...the sound of eggs cooking? Have you ever made a scrambled egg in your entire fucking life?"

"Yeah, and they don't sound like a war zone."

"Well yeah, I had the heat turned up a little too high, so fucking sue me," Karkat said, crossing his arms defensively and keeping an eye on the eggs to see when they had cooked enough for him to start scrambling.

"Are you...are you cooking them in the bacon grease?" Dirk had come closer to inspect the pan in amazed wonder.

"Yeah? I mean, you can't just pour bacon grease down the sink drain, you'll clog it. And it's way better flavoured than any oil you could ever use, anyway."

"That's...ingenious," Dirk said slowly, amazed.

Karkat shrugged. "I saw it on TV, I don't get all the credit." He paused a moment to grab a spatula. "You'd better move, I have to make sure they don't burn, and you have to make sure you don't lose an eye to the grease." Dirk moved easily, looking both awed and hungry. Karkat sighed and said, "The bacon's on that plate over there if you want to serve yourself."

Karkat hadn't even needed to say anything. Dirk's nose had already found and followed the scent to the table and was now reaching for a piece. "I said serve yourself, not grab one off the plate and eat it like a fucking animal. God, I have to do everything in this house." Karkat reached up to where the plates were and leaned across the room to hand it to Dirk, the spatula never leaving the pan.

"You're having me eat breakfast on like an actual real plate?"

"Yes, Dirk, we are eating food on actual real plates because actual real people do things with actual real stuff instead of burning through inordinate amounts of plastic silverware and paper plates."

Dirk scowled. "There is nothing wrong with paper plates and plastic forks, they work perfectly fine and get the job done."

"Yeah, yeah, but it's the principle of it all," Karkat said. "Hey speaking of real people plates, can you grab me two more and bring them over here? The eggs are done and I didn't get anything to put them on because I'm a dumbass."

"I got you, fam," Dirk says, sliding three plates across the counter in a glorious single file. Karkat loaded them with what he could best eyeball as thirds, then turned off the stovetop and carried things around to the dining table.

"Do you take anything with your eggs?" Karkat asked.

"What?"

"Like, ketchup or syrup or anything?"

"...I'll just go ahead and repeat myself, what?"

Karkat was almost appalled before he remembered nothing good happens in this fucking house. "Okay, Dirk, I'm about to teach you some real shit about how to eat fucking eggs." He ran to the fridge again, half considered throwing the ketchup at Dirk, then decided against it and walked it back with his legs like a bipedal mammal with impulse control and a brain. "This shit right here makes eggs taste like heaven." Dirk's nod was tempered with severe skepticism. Karkat ignored it and poured out a little puddle onto each of the three plates.

"Now, you only want to get a tiny bit of ketchup on a bite of eggs. Like, if you get too much then it just tastes like ketchup and horse shit, which is not a good time in the early hours of the morning." Dirk was kind of just staring at him, waiting for Karkat to admit that he was kidding. In response, Karkat went ahead and dug in, ketchup and all. "I'm not fucking lying about this, Dirk, this is the shit."

Dirk grimaced at it, but then shrugged. "You've been right about like literally everything else you've said since you came here, might as well give it a go." He reached for the ketchup, dipped, and ate. Karkat was surprised at how on the edge of his seat he was. Why do I care so much about being validated on a front that I know I'm fucking right on?

"Hot diggity shit, why did no one ever tell me about this before." Dirk's eyes were wide with approval.

"I told you I wasn't kidding," Karkat said, the smugness in his smile almost physically palpable.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, save your breath," Dirk said. It kind of ruined his bitter facade that he was scarfing down the food like there was no tomorrow, but Karkat figured he'd just let him believe it was working.

The sound of a door opening down the hall stopped both of them. They both looked down the hall, Karkat ever more distressed as Dirk's concern filled the room.

Dave looked...bad. His hair wasn't brushed, his glasses were slightly crooked, and he seemed overall sapped. Not the kind of look someone fresh out of the shower should have. Karkat cleared his throat. "H–Hey, Dave. I made, uh...I made breakfast." Dave nodded, totally silent, and sat down. He started wordlessly eating his breakfast without making eye contact with either of them. Well, eating might not have been the right word. More of him poking the eggs with his fork listlessly and less of him actually chewing and swallowing.

Dirk put a hand on Dave's shoulder. Karkat could see Dave's muscles tense through his shirt, but he still didn't say anything. "You gonna be alright?" Dirk asked in a near-whisper. Dave nodded almost imperceptibly. Dirk prodded, "You don't have to go to school today, it's okay. You can afford to take a sick day, you haven't missed a day of school in a while." Dave shook his head, a little more obviously this time. Karkat felt like he was interrupting an intense private moment, but he wasn't sure what else he was supposed to do except stand there and hope the atmosphere would clear soon.

Dirk stood, a slight frown on his face. "If you say so. Will you be alright walking?" Dave nodded. "Alright…" Dirk turned to Karkat. "Make sure he eats, okay?"

Karkat tried to smile, but the weight of the situation snuffed it out prematurely. "Will do."

Dirk clapped him on the back as he passed. "I'm off to work on my project again. You guys better hit the road soonish." He left before anyone could really answer him, wandering back towards his room and shutting the door.

Karkat looked at Dave. He had put the fork down and was kind of just staring at the plate now. "Hey...you better eat some of that, okay?" Dave didn't say anything. "...just a couple bites?" Dave seemed to be moving through molasses, but he managed to pick up his fork and get in one bite of eggs before setting it back down. Karkat checked the time. Five minutes until they had to get going. What do I do? "Um...so I'm gonna go grab our stuff. Try to eat as much of that as you can. Sound good?" Dave's back muscles tensed in a way that almost seemed like he had tried to shrug but had given up halfway through. I guess that'll have to do…

Karkat jogged to Dave's room and picked up both of their backpacks. This must have something to do with last night...god, why did I even ask about it? I'm so stupid. This is all my fault. He returned to the kitchen and did his best to paste a smile on his face.

"Ready to go?"

Dave stood up slowly and grabbed his backpack out of Karkat's hands in the most lackluster, distracted way possible. Karkat looked him over again as he cleared the dishes and scraped Dave's nearly untouched meal into the trash. His shades weren't lopsided anymore, so that was some improvement, and he must have flattened out his hair a bit because it didn't look quite so poofy now. Karkat led the way to the front door. "Shall we?" Dave made the smallest possible hum of affirmation, almost too quiet to hear. Well at least he's making sound now...that's a good sign. I think.

The walk to school was long, silent, and awkward. Karkat tried to start conversations occasionally, and every time Dave either didn't answer or only grunted vaguely. His head was bent downward in a way that made Karkat suspect that he wasn't even looking where he was going. Eventually, Karkat just kind of gave up and let the silence rest uncomfortable between them.

I should be doing something...but what should I be doing? Nothing I've done has worked, and I can't exactly ask him what's wrong because I know what's wrong, and it's me. It's probably not doing him any favours that I'm right here walking next to him. God, I feel so helpless.

WHACK.

Karkat looked up, startled. Dave had accidentally run into a bench on the edge of the sidewalk. He was looking down at his shin in a daze, and his glasses had skittered away a few feet in front of him. Karkat bent down to get them. There was a big crack running through the right lens. He winced. Ah geez…

He stood back up, turning to return Dave's glasses. "Here...sorry about the crack. It must have happened when they fell." He watched Dave's hands as he took the sunglasses. Is he...shaking? Karkat's gaze rose to meet Dave's, and his heart dropped into his stomach. Dave's distant, vague composure had broken, and he was crying again. Heavy, uncontrolled tears streaked silently down his cheeks as he tried desperately not to make a sound. He didn't return Karkat's stare, just slipped the glasses on overtop his tears like nothing was wrong and kept walking.

Karkat followed behind, worry practically seeping out of his pores. He had made what should have been an obvious connection, and it frightened him that he had been so stupid as to miss it for such a long time.

With his glasses on like that, you can hardly tell anything is wrong.