A/N: Pretty descriptive on attempted non-con, if it makes you uncomfortable this is my warning - turn back now!

Dave wanted to slam the door. He wanted to pry his fingers off the handle and head for his room. He wanted to close his eyes and open them to an empty hallway, able to read the brass 1401 of the opposite neighbour and see the water damage stain that looked somewhat like a dinosaur on the wall. The numb was spreading through his body, slinking down his arm and eventually finding its way to his feet, keeping Dave rooted to the spot and staring up at Kyle's glasses which had a smudge on his left lens, the salt-and-pepper scruff on his face looked scratchy to the touch, and the shirt underneath his leather jacket was a green-blue colour reminding him of a surgeon's scrubs – or maybe a mermaid. He didn't know if one interpretation won over the other. When did he start to notice these trivial things, Dave wondered. Why now of all times?

Where was Bro?

A smile. "Surprised to see me? Because that's the most expression I've ever seen on you."

Dave closed him mouth quickly, unaware that he had been making a face.

Kyle let out a chuckle. "Don't worry, I found it cute. At least I know one of you has emotions."

He found his voice. "Do you need something?"

"Yes actually. Speaking of, can you get your brother for me? I have things."

"Well, he's not here right now."

It was Kyle's turn to be surprised. "He isn't?"

"...No," Dave said, cautious about the tone of Kyle voice. "I can ask him to give you a call."

Feeling returned to his limbs, and he tried to swing door shut only to have Kyle stop it, using his forearm as an obstruction. "Can I just wait inside?"

Dave shook his head. "Stranger danger."

"But I'm a friend."

Unconvinced, Dave motioned to continue his action when Kyle spoke.

"How long will he be out for?"

"Maybe twenty more minutes or something, I don't think it'll be too long."

"In that case, what's the point of leaving now when I'm here? It'll be a short wait."

"I can't."

"You can't, or you won't?" A bite in his words formed. "I don't like being kept waiting. The blame will solely be on you if somehow you forget to tell him that I was here. This is important to him, you know."

"It's just, I –"

He raised a hand in the air and instantly Dave became quiet. "Please Dave, it was a simple question."

But he didn't know how to respond. He avoided eye contact with older man, instead opting to look over his shoulder and at the wall, well aware from the corner of his eye Kyle's own gaze aimed on his face. Dave tried to ignore the discomfort it caused.

He understood why Kyle had called it simple, he only had two options. But the pressure of it made Dave realize just how much of a child he was, forced to make a decision that felt too adult. An apology wasn't going to make Kyle forgive him if he shut that door – would Bro forgive him if he didn't?

Then Kyle's voice cut through his thoughts.

"You can't do this to your brother."

In that moment Kyle sounded right. He couldn't do that to his brother.

He opened the door and Kyle – whose expression was stoic earlier – now had a little smile on his face. As he took his first step past the entryway, Dave wondered why the words of an adult carried more influence than his own intuition. He wondered why he stepped to the side and allowed Kyle to enter into the room and why he closed the door and took his place back at the kitchen table, sitting down on the chair that now felt too hard and plastic and cold on his backside no matter how many positions he tried to get comfortable in, why he tried feigning occupation with his homework and pretended not to notice as Kyle pulled up a second chair and sat down beside him, why had he let Kyle inside.

He had let him in.

Regret and guilt started to settle for the mistake, and Dave kept repeating and polishing words to the apology he wanted to give to his brother in his mind. But Kyle had sounded so convincing, spoken as if he went directly into Dave's conscience and said it aloud. It was then as he felt the man move close enough to hear a breath inhaled, he realized that maybe not all adults were right.

"So Dave, what are you working on?"

"Just some homework."

"Oh, math? That was my favourite subject when I was in school. Here, I can help you." He pointed to an equation. "On this one, you're close but I think you've mistaken that four goes into twelve four times, when it really goes in..."

He counted on his fingers. "Three."

"That's the right answer. Good job, Dave." He felt a hand snake its way onto his shoulder, pulling him into Kyle's side. It was nauseating, the combination of faux leather and smoke. He turned his face away from it, feeling his cheek brush against the material of his coat.

"You're a smart kid."

"Thanks, I guess..."

"Let's move to the next question." He picked up the calculator from the table. "In long division when the first number isn't divisible from -"

"Kyle."

"Yes?"

"Can you remove your hand."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to lose my hand if I remove it."

"...What?"

"You know," Kyle began, "if I removed my hand – I'd lose my hand if I took it off."

"Oh," Dave said, finally getting the joke. But he didn't find it particularly funny, not even enough to give a polite laugh. "I mean like, can you take your hand off from my shoulder. It's kinda uncomfy."

"I see," Kyle said, moving his hand back to his side. "Let's continue with these questions. You have quite a few mistakes."

"Thanks, but I can handle the rest."

"I insist. I like math. And you're brother won't be here for a while so I might as well pass the time."

Dave pointed to the television. "You could watch TV."

"Don't you want to talk?"

"I like to work by myself."

Placing the calculator down and trying to see beyond Dave's shades he asked, "Do I really make you that uncomfortable?"

The direct manner of Kyle's question took him aback, and he tried to stall the truth. "What do you mean?"

"I thought you liked me."

"I don't even know you."

"Of course you do, I'm your brother's friend."

"Doesn't seem like that."

Kyle let out a sardonic laugh and Dave found himself leaning away in his seat, eyeing the telephone on Bro's computer desk.

"Do you know your brother?"

Dave furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't know what you're getting at."

"Sorry, let me rephrase. What do you know about your brother?"

"Why?"

Kyle shrugged. "Just curious."

"Well," Dave began, "he raised me since I was still in diapers. He's scary good at fighting to the point that it's pretty unfair, definitely knows how to make some tunes, likes to think he's the king of cool and that's all I can think of from the top of my head."

"Sounds to me like you really admire your older brother."

"He can be really cool," Dave admitted.

Kyle smiled. "You're red."

Dave placed his knuckles against his cheek and felt the heat of a flush. A deeper sense of embarrassment settled when he realized that the evidence of his slip up was across his face, and he looked down at his lap.

He tried to backtrack. "Well, I don't worship him or anything. He has problems too."

"Oh?"

"He's a light sleeper but wakes up late; it's annoying when I have to tip-toe around the place for a couple hours because if I wake him he gets grumpy and likes to scare the shit – heck – outta me. And he leaves his puppets where they shouldn't be like in the shower. Also, he owes me five bucks."

"That's not all though, is there."

"Well, no but –"

"What if I told you he's sick?"

This surprised him. "He never told me that. What does he have?"

Again Kyle laughed, and it sounded wrong in Dave's ears. "So simple, that's what I love about kids. No Dave, I don't mean he's physically sick like a cold or a fever. I mean he's sick in the head. Mentally disturbed. Fucked up."

He began to lean further away in his chair. "He seems fine to me."

"No." Kyle's hand found its way back onto Dave's shoulder and he pulled the boy into his side again. The side of Dave's face was pushed against the front of Kyle's jacket, and a button began to leave a little red imprint on his cheek. "Listen to me, your brother is not fine. It only seems that way because it's become normal, but it's not. And a smart, mature boy like you would figure this out sooner or later. I can't just be a bystander and watch as he messes with you until he turns you into something like him, especially since I can see that you look up to him so much – that's exactly what he wants. Because he's sick – a pervert. I don't think he's fit to be taking care of anybody. If you knew what he does in his free time, you'd be scared. You don't know your brother as well as you think you do."

Dave swallowed hard, mulling over Kyle's words. Then he said, "You know what I think?"

He brought a hand trailing up to run his fingers through his hair. "It's okay to trust others. Remember, I'm a friend."

"Kyle?"

"Yes?"

"You're fucked up."

Then Dave shoved him away and began a dash to the door, jumping over Kyle who was now on the floor, having fallen from his chair. Flat on his back and glasses skewed on his face, he watched the blurred form of Dave hesitating a moment in front of Bro's computer desk, arm reaching to the phone.

With a grunt Kyle heaved himself up from the floor, ignoring the pain in his back and the bruise that would eventually form on his tailbone. "Dave," he said in a loud voice, "that wasn't a very smart thing to do." He fixed the position of his glasses, but it didn't do much to help his vision when all he could see was red.

Before Dave could even touch the phone, from his peripheral he saw Kyle stand up. A deep panic seized him and he abandoned his plan to call Bro or the police, opting instead to head straight out to the hallway and knock on every neighbour's door. Dave only got to touch the first lock before he felt a pull on the back of his shirt and he was dragged backward. He stumbled and tripped, screwing his eyes shut waiting for the solid impact of the floor, but instead he fell on the futon.

He scrambled to get up but it was too late, Kyle's form was looming above him, and he gripped Dave's hair hard enough that his eyes began to tear from the stinging on his scalp.

"You think I'm fucked? What about your brother?" He got close to Dave's face. "Do you know what he does for money? What keeps this roof over you?"

Kyle's words carried the taste of cigarettes. It overwhelmed Dave's sense of smell and lingered in the back of his throat, tasting the heaviness of ash and bitter tobacco that made his stomach turn. He held his breath and shut his eyes, hoping that Kyle would back off. He didn't.

"Did you hear what I said?" Dave nodded. "Then answer me. Do you know what keeps this roof over you?"

He shook his head. "No."

"I'll show you, it's something like this."

There was a hand on the waistband of Dave's jeans, and his eyes flew open in panic. He began to kick, aiming anywhere on Kyle's body and landing a foot into his stomach. It seemed only to be an annoyance to Kyle who felt the assault, hardly strong enough to make him feel any actual physical pain. With the hand that wasn't at the top of Dave's pant, he caught one attacking foot, immobilizing Dave who was now struggling to free from Kyle's grasp, his little fingers trying to pry Kyle off from around his ankle. He chuckled as he saw Dave's shades fall from his face and clatter onto the floor.

"You really are cute with expression."

The compliment made his even more nauseous than Kyle's tobacco breath.

"Let me go!" He stopped trying to unhook his fingers and kicked Kyle's elbow, causing him to lose balance and release his grip.

"Hey!" Dave hoped that one of his neighbours would hear him. "Help-"

A pillow was quickly placed over his face and a knee dug into his chest, pushing the remaining air from his lungs and making it hard to breathe. He felt Kyle's weight lean to the side as he picked something else up from the floor.

"Let me continue."

Dave felt his shirt being pushed up from his stomach, and he shuddered from the feeling of a calloused hand running over his bare skin. He began to twist again, but the knee dug itself further into his chest, and he began to grow tired from the lack of air. Kyle removed his hand and Dave felt another touch, but it felt soft as it traveled across his stomach. A new wave of adrenaline coursed through Dave, and he managed to shove the pillow off from over his face, taking in gulps of air and pulling his shirt back down.

"That ain't happening," Dave said more to himself than Kyle when he saw Lil' Cal in his grasp, dangling from his little orange arm above the ground.

He managed to wriggle enough out from underneath Kyle and dropped to the floor, quickly getting up and running to his bedroom. He knew something Kyle didn't – there were weapons.

As Dave ran through the kitchen and he heard another pair of footsteps following behind and the sound made his heart pump quicker, fingers beginning to tremble. He managed to open the door to his room without fumbling too much on the doorknob, and the familiar gleam of metal scattered across the floor had never looked more inviting. He picked up the closest sword, a katana with black wrappings around the handle – one of Bro's favourites. Kyle had caught up, but when he saw Dave clutching the sword in his hands, he took a step back, laughing while doing so.

"Swinging a sword at me? You really are growing up to be like your brother – a little criminal." Before Dave could even bring down his first swing, Kyle kicked him in the chest and back down onto the floor. He tried to catch his breath as Kyle pinned him down once more.

He had tried to hold back, but couldn't any longer. Tears were beginning to stream down Dave's face from fear and a lack of air, lungs and throat and eyes burning when he felt jeans being slipped off from his legs. Dave felt helpless and an odd sense of guilt that he couldn't do enough to prevent this from happening from the first moment he had let Kyle walk through the door to ignoring all the red flags being raised in his head to not heeding Bro's warning.

Gentle kisses were being trailed down his neck, but it stung Dave. Then Kyle produced Lil' Cal from behind himself again, and dangled it in front of his face.

"Stop," he choked out, trying to push the puppet away from his face.

"You're gonna thank me one day," he said. When Dave saw one of Kyle's hands unfastening his own belt he squeezed his eyes shut to block the sight. "You're gonna be grateful I was easy on you compared to your –"

The weight of Kyle's body was suddenly lifted off, and he heard a slam against the wall. When Dave opened his eyes he began to take in large breaths, tearing up again but out of relief when he saw Bro standing above, one hand curled into Kyle's shirt and the other around the man's neck.

"What the fuck," he yelled.

"Strider," Kyle began, voice trembling as much as his fingertips. "I was just –"

Before he could try and form an explanation Bro slammed him again into the wall, removing his hand from his neck and formed it into a fist. Kyle looked down at it, eyes widening and reacted quickly, kicking Bro off from himself. He landed on his back against the floor and with the brief opening Kyle was atop him, landing a solid punch at his face. Dave saw his head turn with the force and Bro's split lip bleeding.

The attack didn't seem to faze Bro as he fixated back on Kyle and pushed him off, reversing roles as he loomed over the other man, foot connecting into his stomach and dragging him back up, punching him in the gut. Kyle stumbled, and he fell briefly to his knees before holding himself up against the wall and bringing himself back to his feet. Bro punched him in the face and he fell back again, gasping in pain. His nose was bleeding, blood trickling over lips and down his chin.

Clutching his bruising cheek, when Kyle realized he was losing the physical fight he tried to turn it into a verbal one.

"I told him about everything," he began, attempting to gain a sense of power from his position sprawled on the floor. Seeing Bro tense gave him reason to press onward. "Your fetish – I told him about that. And he thinks it's disgusting. You think I'm the bad guy – are you fit to raise a child, huh? Are sex toys laid bare in the house suitable for growing up? You are a sick man Strider," Kyle raised his voice. "Everything you do, you fuck up. You need me!"

Then all was still. Bro loomed over Kyle, fists clenched ready to deliver another strike. But he kept his arms locked firmly to his sides using all his self-control not to break Kyle's nose a second time. He had never wanted to murder before, and Bro knew if he let himself at Kyle again he wasn't going to stop until he had to find a place to hide the body. If Dave wasn't in the room, he probably would have gone through with the deed, but there was also another painful reason: Kyle was right. He wasn't a very good guardian. Dave wasn't in a safe environment around him. He didn't have the means to properly support him – God knows what he'd have to do to put him through college when it was time. What poisoned Bro the most was how easily Kyle had noticed these things in three days, how irresponsible and careless he had been, how obvious to a stranger the faults to what he had been tending for ten years.

If he went through what his mind was yelling at him to accomplish he would be proving Kyle correct again; that he was unfit, a terrible example. And Dave didn't need an absent brother, he needed him now.

Any decision he did now Bro knew he would regret, but what he chose then seemed like the lesser of two evils. He pulled Kyle up by the front of his shirt and slammed him hard into the wall one last time. Expecting another assault Kyle's eyes went wide, but he wasn't hit. Instead, Bro got close. It was the first time Kyle could make out the eyes hiding behind the shades, and he wished he couldn't see them.

Bro hissed, "You don't call anyone, I don't either. This is a matter between you and me."

Feeling words were inappropriate, Kyle nodded his agreement.

Bro released his hold and dropped him to the floor. "Get out."

Kyle stumbled up, hobbling quickly toward the door, hands flying to re-do his belt and wiping the blood against his jacket, hissing about the contact against his tender nose. He hesitated momentarily, looking down, seeing packages of food scattered across the floor in front of the entryway. His head turned a fraction before he thought better of looking backward and opened the door, walking out. Bro could hear the footsteps disappear down the hall from where he was standing, and when they were no longer there he turned his gaze to his little brother.

Dave was on the floor, curled into a ball and shaking slightly. Immediately Bro's shoulders relaxed and he walked to Dave, picking him up and placing him down on futon. He briefly left to Dave's bedroom and retrieved a pair of pajama bottoms to dress his brother into; he didn't bother with another shirt, feeling that undressing him now wasn't the right thing to do. Then he lay down beside him on the mattress. He took off his hat and put it onto the table, resting one arm underneath his own head and letting the other reach around Dave's back, pulling him close until the distance between their chests was nothing but a small crevice. Dave was tense, but when he felt a gentle hand against his back he relaxed into the touch and pressed his face against Bro's shoulder, crying in front of him for the first time since he was a baby. Dave kept as silent as he could, letting what should have been sobbing noises come out as shaking heaves.

Bro wanted to make a comment about Dave crying, just another one of their little jokes they tossed at each other in an effort to try and lighten the mood, but he knew it wasn't the right time and immediately felt guilty over having thought of it at all.

He just wished he was a better brother.

They stayed in position for a long time, long enough until the sun was no longer in the sky, not even a hint, its lights replaced with the shining windows of buildings across and neon streets below. It wasn't enough to light up their apartment and they were left to be still in the dark. There was a damp spot against Bro's shirt where Dave had been pressing his face earlier, but he didn't mind it at all. Their chests rose up and down with each breath in time with the other, and Dave was beginning to feel tired.

"Bro?" He whispered, breaking the silence. He didn't receive a verbal response, but felt the hand against his back tap its fingers against him. He inhaled a shaking breath. "I'm sorry."

Another tap. Then they were quiet again. Dave didn't feel right breaking the silence between them, and instead listened to the cars below on the streets, heard an ambulance rushing down the road and the wind rattling the window slightly in place. When he felt Bro's own breathing beginning to slow and even he decided to try and speak up again.

"You can't sleep with those on," Dave said, reaching out for Bro's shades.

He only got to touch the frames when his thumb brushed against his older brother's face and Dave withdrew immediately, letting his hands fall into the little crevice between their bodies, deciding that tonight Bro could sleep with his shades on when he felt that his cheeks were wet.

The city sounds lulled Dave to sleep. Bro felt his younger brother's tense body relaxed under his touch, soft breaths coming from his slightly parted mouth. He couldn't see them, but he knew Dave's eyes would be red and swollen when he woke up tomorrow – if he wanted to skip school he would let him just this once. He'd make it up to him, maybe teach him those fighting techniques he had been pestering him about for a long time, or they could go explode some fireworks; but the idea of doing those made Bro frown, and realized instead what he should have provided Dave – a healthy childhood. He couldn't redo those past ten years, and he wished he could have redone today, but he would let Dave decide what he wanted to be instead of growing up to be a version of himself. Bro realized that was the reason why everything happened the way it did, and he didn't want Dave to grow up and make the same mistakes.

Watching Dave curled up beside him and hearing him apologize for something he didn't do made his heart sink down in his chest. It should have been the other way around – Bro should have said sorry, and right now he didn't feel as if he deserved Dave's trust. There were just so many things he wanted to undo.

He'd fix everything when the sun was up.

A/N: And that's a wrap! Sorry for taking almost a whole year to update, but I finished it! Thank you so much for reading, it means a lot that you stuck through.

I know the ending isn't super happy, it left me feeling a little hollow after writing it, but that's sometimes how it goes. Writing this final chapter has been... a trip for me, but everything had to lead up to this moment; it was the original request. Topics like these don't end with ice cream and an apology. Sorry if you have been tricked!

And again, thank you for even just taking time to read this all you anons, users and useranons! I hope that you feel as fulfilled writing, finishing, and improving your work as much as I have and never give up and get over that writer's block - it took me almost a year - perseverance pays off! You can do it!

Now all I have to do is find that one anon who started this prompt on the Homestuck kinkmeme 3 years ago and deliver the final chapters... if you're out there this is for you.