Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Washington was cold.

Not a stinging, biting cold; not the kind Dave only felt on certain winter nights in Texas. A background chill, sunk deep into the bones of the earth, almost soothing the burns of the past. Rose would probably say some poetic shit about it being representative of a new dawn, pushing forward and past the gates of Hell, knowing damn well it was just because Washington was further north.

Dave decided to think of it as a nuisance that forced him to invest in sweaters. He was wearing a fluffy cable knit, the epitome of Hallmark love interest chic, other than the colour being that of asphalt instead of snow white. Dirk got it for him, something ironic about it being perfect for a movie director. All he needed were khaki shorts and a cup of way-too-expensive, unpaid-intern-delivered coffee…

It seemed like Dirk gave him fewer things than usual, though Dave rarely got any gifts from him before. Well-wishes from friends and their family seemed to fill his closets and not-yet-unpacked moving boxes far more than his past possessions did. According to his therapist, that was probably a good thing. Dave didn’t really care as much; it just meant more unpacking to deal with.

Enough quiet musing and not-so-subtle set dressing. Do you really want to read a story where nothing ever happens all because it’s wrapped up in half-baked extra-long prose? Let’s get to the good shit. No more of this third person nonsense, you’re getting up close and personal with the protagonist.

> Be Dave

Right, you can do that, when are you ever not Dave? 

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you just moved to WASHINGTON from TEXAS, after a HARROWING INCIDENT involving your older brother, who was actually your father. Really, your whole life was a series of HARROWING INCIDENTS. If your therapist is to be believed, she calls it CHILDHOOD TRAUMA; you call it a load of shit that was sunbaked and managed to get right on your face the moment someone turned a powerwasher on.

You have a VARIETY OF INTERESTS, none of which you really feel a CONNECTION TO anymore. Really, you’ve been feeling disconnected from A LOT OF SHIT that’s been happening lately. Your friends have been the main thing keeping you grounded. You kind of don’t know where you’d be without them right now.

Speaking of your friends, a glance at your computer screen reveals a Pesterchum notification. The same friends you’ve been brushing off today. Apparently this time Jade decided to HIT YOU UP. Okay, enough internal shouting; it’s giving you a headache.

GG: dave!!!!
GG: daaave!!!! where are you? >o<
GG: youve been pretty sneaky today
TG: who me? sneaky? youve got the wrong guy
TG: im anything but sneaky
GG: tell that to the security cameras!
TG: woah hey security lady
TG: that wasnt me
TG: that was my identical twin, dave hider
GG: if hes your identical twin why is his last name different, hm?
TG: because were weeaboos, last name first and shit
TG: guess what ive been lying to you the whole time
TG: dave is my last name
GG: woah!!! what does that mean for dirk? o_O
TG: changed his name, he couldnt handle the dave legacy i guess
TG: for the best though, im more dave than he could ever be
GG: the one and only!
TG: one of a kind, no substitutions
GG: i did kind of want to talk to you about you being so sneaky today
GG: and yesterday a bit too
GG: everyones worried….
TG: in the memo you havent allowed me to join
GG: theres no memo!!!!
GG: god dave!!!
TG: yeah i know, hard to get my brain to accept that i guess
TG: its like
TG: theres a fucking jungle out there you know
TG: lions and tigers and bears oh my 
TG: somethings always waiting in the underbrush 
TG: its dog eat dog
TG: gotta stay vigilant gotta stay quick
TG: even if i actually left the jungle months ago
GG: sorry i shouldnt have gotten upset like that :’(
GG: is that why you havent been talking to us?
TG: no i just decided to ghost you out of nowhere
TG: yeah
GG: gosh im sorry dave!! *big fuzzy dog cuddles*
TG: hey quit it with the roleplay, you dont want to unlock my furry alter ego
TG: you wont like me when im a furry
GG: dave i talk to you specifically for you to be a furry sometimes
TG: yeah i know, i just dont really feel like getting akwete out right now

A pulsing pounding sounds off in your head like an air siren. Great, your headache worsens. You can’t tell if your headaches have been more frequent or just more noticeable. You’ve always had them, but nowadays they’re less like background noise and more like an alarm jolting you out of your routine.

TG: i think img onna head off
TG: headahce
TG: headache*
GG: feel better soon dave!!!

You try to muster up the energy for a response and fall flat, deciding to just close the window instead. You need a drink of applejuice, water -- anything to distract yourself from the pain in your head.

You blink, reality tilting. You’re in the kitchen now, has it been a few minutes or hours? Your head hurts. You need a glass of applejuice, water, anything to drink.

Come on Dave, get your ass in gear.

For some reason your name doesn’t sound right in your head. Your voice slips out of your brain like sand through your fingers. Water. Gurgling from the faucet into your hand.

You nearly fall up the stairs. You were warned about them. You feel like your legs are too long, or is it short? Muscles not quite right. You didn’t spill your water, at least, so there’s that.

You slink to a desk. Glass flung to your face, you guzzle it down. The crisp water flowing down your throat brings you into clarity again. Your name is Dave Strider. This is your room. You’re in Washington.

Your therapist said forgetting where you are is normal. But nothing she described sounded like what you’ve been going through. It’s not like you forget you’re not at the apartment, but forget where you are at all. And sometimes, in the hourglass that is your mind, even your own life details seem to slip through the cracks.

They never get all the way through, and sometimes you wonder what would happen if they did. Where would you go? Would you be anywhere? Would your body just be in a coma? The idea both frightens and captivates you. But you don’t dare experiment, only focus on your grounding techniques.

You frown at the glass in your hands. Come on, you couldn’t have gotten apple juice? Thanks a lot, Zombie Dave. Whatever. Too late now, unless you feel like a racehorse piss in your near future. Luckily for you, horses were always more Dirk’s thing.

Once you get your bearings back, you make the trek downstairs to the dishwasher. It’s crazy how much of Bro’s money the court let you have, enough for a whole ass fancy house. It’s enough to support you for apparently years until Dirk has his inventions ready for patent, or until one of you gets a job.

There’s a shadow behind you; you spot it out of the corner of your eye. You jump a few feet in the air and grab a knife (butter, no sharpened objects allowed) to point at your assailant.

Oh, it’s just Dirk. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Mercifully, he grants you a few moments to calm your heart and breathing before speaking.

“I think it’s time we discuss what to do about high school,” he says, shades off, as he’s done ever since an ill-timed blackout gave him the scar around his throat.

“Jegus fuck Dirk. Didn’t we already talk about this?” He could have waited until you weren’t turned around before walking up to you. He should know better instead of scaring the shit out of you like that. That’s what led to the blackout, shades be damned.

“We talked about where you’re going and what classes you plan on taking. That’s hardly a plan for the future.”

“I’m kind of sick of planning. It feels like we’ve been doing nothing but plan all summer.”

Dirk shrugs. “That’s what happens when your entire life gets upended. Now come on, let’s sit down.” He points his thumb over at the dining room.

You do as he says, but complain about it anyway. “Not even giving me a choice there? That’s cold.”

“I can’t help being as cool as a cucumber Dave, and if that happens to be cold so be it. Now let’s review.” He sits down and rests his arms on the table, fingers interlaced.

“You’re taking the core classes: Pre-Algebra, English, Social Studies for your first semester, and Digital Art as your elective. Next semester, you will be taking Science and a Japanese language course, followed by Theatre and…” Dirk slightly scrunches up his face in the way you know means he’s fighting a grimace. “Civics? Why did you choose that again?”

“Same reason I chose Japanese — I need my SBAHJ politics to be as accurate as possible. Anyway, I still don’t get why we need to plan any more than this.”

“Has Mildred talked to you about what happens if you get an attack at school?”

“She has. So is that what this is about? Talking about a plan I already made with my therapist?”

“Yes. But you haven’t told her about your dissociation.”

You flinch, then chastise yourself for it; that’s a rookie mistake. You’re no rookie. “Look, it’s fine, when a lot of shit goes on, doesn’t it ground me or whatever? School’s nothing but shit going on. I’ll be fine.”

“You can’t just get up in the middle of class to get water. Even outside of class, school isn’t like home. It’s a lot easier to get lost.”

You’re done with this. “I’m fine man. I just-” You attempt to stand up too fast, forgetting your surroundings, and bash your knee onto the table. You grit your teeth and will the pain away.

“Dave -- fuck. Let’s talk about this later.” Dirk steps closer to you, reaching out, then hesitates.

“Whatever, Dirk.”

He’s been so goddamn pushy lately. You don’t know why. You’re sure your therapist would know, but you’re too busy working with shit from your past to ask her. Your march to your room upstairs is accented perfectly by the limp in your step. Why did you have to stand up so hard? Oh yeah, Dirk’s being a helicopter mom.

You practically collapse on your bed, and take the time to prod at your wound. Nothing too bad, you determine, but it’s going to bruise like a peach.

It seems like every day is like this now, minus avoiding your friends. You and Dirk have been bickering more than ever. Your headaches have been getting worse. And the dissociating…

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much, to let yourself slip through with the grains of sand.

Shit, you didn’t mean to make that sound so much like killing yourself. Maybe leave the thought of that behind, because you doubt it leads anywhere pleasant. You’re just tired of the monotony; how did leaving your oldest brother and abuser behind become so mundane so fast? No, not mundane, you wouldn’t still be jumping at shadows if it was.

But there’s definitely a routine you’re getting used to. One that’s driving you crazy. Maybe that’s what the headaches are, your brand of crazy out to get you.

Maybe you should talk to one of your friends. Not about this; you plan on keeping this tight as spandex to your chest. Just to talk.

TG: sup
TT: Why, isn’t this a surprise?
TT: The renowned Dave Strider paying little old me a virtual visit?
TT: What have I done to deserve the honor of being graced with your presence?
TT: You’ve been awfully avoidant lately, Dave.
TG: woah switching straight from the gag to the touchy feely shit
TG: i see how it is rose
TT: Yes, if “how it is” is you being unusually offline and quick to leave any conversations.
TG: chill, jade gave me a talk down already
TT: So I’ve heard, but I would like to emphasize how much we worry and care for you, Dave. That includes me You know damn well that I am not as cold as I present myself to be.
TG: cant a guy get some alone time?
TG: and yeah, im working on it, i just need some alone time
TT: I see. In that case please take care to just let us know you wish to be alone, rather than disappearing into thin air.
TG: hey dont act like im made of glass, i know i look it but this is solid diamond yo
TG: i dont crack under pressure like some lesser mineral
TT: Yes, but when diamonds do, they shatter.
TG: bit of a stretch connecting that metaphor to me
TG: shame on you rose
TT: Who would I be if I did not stretch?
TT: You are at fault for the comparison in the first place.
TG: whatever
TG: i dont plan on doing shit like this again
TG: but i guess ill let you know if i do
TT: Thank you kindly, Dave.
TT: Now, did you have anything you wanted to talk about before I redirected us to that topic?
TG: i just needed someone to talk to
TT: Ah, poor timing for an interrogation on my part then. My sincere apologies.
TG: nah its cool, picked you on purpose
TT: Because I am your favourite cousin?
TG: because dirk was being an ass and i needed someone else to be annoyed at
TT: I will ignore that remark to ask; what was it this time?
TG: he still seems to think i dont have a plan for school
TG: like shit man, maybe a few months ago i wouldve needed this
TG: but ive got my shit together
TG: i know what im doing and where im going
TT: Hmm. Perhaps he is missing the feeling he had of protecting you, and that is his attempt to replace that?
TG: doing a shitty job of it
TG: like oh hey thanks dirk for protecting me from the fucking pta
TT: You should be frightened of the PTA. One night after a conference, my mother came home covered in cuts and bruises.
TG: oh yeah no shit those moms are vicious
TG: but you know what i mean
TT: Yes, I believe I do.
TT: If I ever meet your therapist, remind me to personally apologize for taking over her role.
TT: I believe you and Dirk should have a conversation about this.
TG: holy shit miss communication herself is telling me to talk to my brother
TG: how long did it take for you and your mother to finally understand what was going on in your heads again?
TG: and yeah, ive been fucking trying to have a conversation with him thats the whole damn problem

Your headache is back, with a vengeance it seems. This time, it’s getting worse faster than ever.

TG: i have to go

You didn’t really want to leave her like that but your head is fucking killing you. You need some apple juice stat, piss be damned. How did it get bad so fast?

Fuck. In trying to stand, your vision ends up blurring and you fall on the floor. What were you doing again? It can’t have been fucking falling.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You try to push yourself up, to your feet, to your knees, anything. But every time you blink, it feels like hours have passed, hours that are getting longer and longer. Your body feels like a distant memory, and your vision slowly pries itself away from you, as you fade to black.

> Be Karkat

Chapter Text

> Be Karkat

Your head hurts.

Okay, that’s an understatement. Your head is fucking killing you, it feels like a railspike was driven directly into your thinkpan. It might just be the worst pain you’ve felt in your life, but for some reason you can’t quite recall your prior injuries for proper comparison.

When you come to through the blinding pain, you find yourself sprawled on some floor covered entirely by a weirdly hairy snuggle plane. The block looks strange, like a respiteblock covered in movie posters not dissimilar from your own. Only, where one would expect a recuperacoon, instead is what appears to be a strange derivative of a loungeplank, covered in various less hairy snuggle planes.

Oddly enough, the windows aren’t tinted, and are letting little beams of light stream through to fall on the loungeplank. Weird.

Your first assumption is that you got abducted, and so you follow your first instinct pushing yourself up and-

Huh.

Hmm.

That’s weird. You can’t move.

When you try to move, your body fails to respond, so you can’t follow your first instinct of hiding under the loungeplank.

Your breathing quickens, and your attempts to move grow more desperate. You manage moving your fingers, neck, and ganderbulbs, but as your bloodpusher beats frantically you find yourself able to move less and less, until you can’t even support your weight and fall over.

Tears well up and you feel the childish urge to whimper. What kind of technology is this? Were you drugged? Shit, they’re going to use your mutant blood for experiments, or execute you as an example, or something worse.

There’s a knock at the door. You flinch despite it all.

“Dave? You alright? I heard something fall over, sounded heavy.”

You will your body to move, to scream, to do something, anything. But it refuses to respond, you curse it for its betrayal.

“Dave?” The doorknob jiggles, and your breath catches in your throat. You’re helpless, you doubt whoever’s in your captor’s hive is in any way more merciful than them.

What’s revealed is a towering strange pale-skinned and hornless troll. They loom over your prone body like a drone looms over grubs in the brooding caverns.

Noting their unusual mutant features you start to recognize the situation. You’re in a freak show, and that troll was someone also kidnapped to be turned into an indentured servant.

When he notices you on the floor his eyes widen, though his mouth remains set as a flat line. “Shit, Dave. Another panic attack?”

Is Dave the owner of this respiteblock? Strange that he’s been addressed, considering the complete absence of anyone else in the room, but you don’t have the time nor mental energy to dwell on it.

He leans down and wraps his arms around your body, and you tense up, before he sets you upon the lounge plank.

“Okay, you know the gist already. Gimme five things you can see.”

You really don’t, and you don’t know why he’s asking this when he clearly knows you can’t respond, but you find yourself complying internally.

You see a light above, you see posters next to the loungeplank, you see a computer on a desk, you see the mutant troll giving you space, you see the window over the bed letting in light. Your breath grows a bit more relaxed.

“Four things you can feel.”

You feel the snuggleplanes beneath you, you feel your bloodpusher beats beginning to slow, you feel the warmth of your sweater, you feel your breath slow.

“Three things you can hear.”

You hear his voice, you hear the buzzing of the lights, you hear squawkbeasts chirping outside.

“Two things you can smell.”

You smell apples, you smell oranges.

“One thing you can taste.”

You taste blood.

You manage to sit up. You wiggle your fingers experimentally, then move your arms. Your full range of motion is back, and you find yourself breathing a sigh of relief.

“Thanks,” you grumble, avoiding his gaze. You didn’t expect the kindness, and you’re grateful he’s the one who found you instead of your captor. Fuck knows what would have happened if they found you awake and in such a vulnerable state.

Speaking of which. “So, what’s the fucking deal?”

The troll tilts his head back nonchalantly, though his eyes betray his immediate shock and confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, jackass, the deal, this place. Why am I here and not dead? What the fuck is this place? Where’s the owner? Am I gonna be sold?”

They mouth along with you, shaken by your words. “Dave. What the hell are you talking about? Sold? You’re in your room.”

“Who’s Dave? Don’t tell me thats some kind of fucking codename. Look, I just want to know if I’m gonna be murdered in my sleep?”

You watch the expression of shock dissipate, replaced by a cool mask. “Sorry, I think I’m a bit confused. Mind telling me what your name is?”

Understatement of the fucking century if how he acted before was any indication. “Karkat. Karkat Vantas. You?”

“Dirk, Dirk Strider. Where do you think you are?” Dirk acts like the embodiment of utter calm, so much so that you almost don’t notice his hands twitching in his lap.

“Some kind of freak show? Some highblood’s hive? I don’t fucking know, I just fucking woke up.”

“Hm. Interesting. What’s the last thing you remember?” Dirk asks, tilting his head again, it aggravated you the way he did that, and you fight yourself not to snap at him. Then again, with the detached manner he was acting in, you’re tempted to snap anyway.

“I was in my respiteblock,” you growl, teeth bared for show.

“Could you tell me what you look like?” Dirk asks, as if he clearly wasn’t blind.

“Alright, what’s with all the questions? I’m supposed to be the one interrogating you! I’m the one who just got fucking kidnapped, for fuck’s sake.”

“Tell me.”

“FINE! I have tiny horns and short curly hair, are you happy? Is that what you wanted? Fuck you.”

Dirk grimaces, the first time you’ve seen his mouth move since he came in. He pulls out a palmhusk, and after a few tapping and swiping motions turns the screen to face you.

You don’t understand what you’re looking at. It’s some recording of a troll with similar mutations to Dirk, albeit with red eyes, which catches your attention. Fuck, another mutantblood survived the caverns? He’s sitting in the exact same place you are, in the exact same pose.

His eyes are even blinking in concert with yours, and you find yourself leaning forward to get a closer look, eyes squinting in concentration. The mutant on the palmhusk does the same thing. You flinch back in shock, and the mutant follows you. You bare your teeth, he does the same, with flat teeth.

Your hands quiver, so do his.

You lunge forward to take the palmhusk out of Dirk’s grasp, and watch the troll on the phone do the same. You see your hands, they’re the exact same shade of pale pink as Dirk’s and the troll on the palmhusk’s.

You drop the palmhusk as if it shocked you. What the hell happened to your hands?

You look to Dirk for answers, but he’s returned to that unreadable expression.

“What’s going on?” The mutant on the palmhusk isn’t you, can’t be you, looks nothing like you. You pluck a strand of hair from your head, blonde, straight. Nothing like yours.

“I think you’re a bit confused,” Dirk states, echoing his words from earlier. “You weren’t kidnapped, you’re not in any danger, you’re in the body of my brother. I don’t know how you got here.”

Something nags at you that he’s lying, but you squash it. He’s been acting cordial so far, even if apparently he was originally under the impression you were his ‘brother’. Whatever that was.

“So you thought I was Dave,” you state, looking to him for his confirmation. At his nod, you fall down on the loungeplank and dig your palms into your ganderbulbs, “Fucking super! I’m in the body of some weird pale hornless mutant! No offense.”

You do mean offense, you very much mean all the offense. Aaaaaaaall of it. This whole situation is a complete and total trainwreck.

“I’d like to ask you about that. People around these parts don’t usually have those. Hell, I haven’t heard of anyone who does, outside of freak medical problems.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? No, seriously, are you fucking with me? You’ve never heard of anyone with horns? Where the fuck is this?”

“Earth. Third planet from the sun. And you know, it sounds to me like you aren’t from here. Or at least, you think you aren’t.” That makes you narrow your eyes. You sit up to glare at Dirk, filing away the information you’re on a completely different planet for later.

“What do you mean think,” you hiss out, literally, but find yourself unable to properly. Either another mutation, or you were in the body of an alien, which would track with all the other hoofbeastshit you just found out.

“My brother has some… mental health issues. He’s been struggling with dissociation, blackouts, memory issues. I’m no psychiatrist, but that, with this, adds up into a damn near textbook case of DID, or Dissociative Identity Disorder.”

“You,” you bark out a disturbed laugh, “you think I’m some kind of episode? A split personality? You think I’m some hallucination your brother’s brain cooked up?”

He hums, seemingly ignoring your outburst, “No, for all intents and purposes, alternate identities developed by those with DID are real, though with varying degrees of separation from each other. I’d like to apologize for dropping this on you, but it’s better to know now than to suddenly find out later.” You feel like screaming.

“What? What do you think is going on? What are you even doing? Why are you acting like, like you fucking always do?” you blurt out before you even register what you said, like he always does? You have no idea how he acts, don’t you? NO! You’re real you’re not fake! Then why can’t you remember anything?

Why can’t you remember your friends, why can’t you remember your lusus? Your wrigglerhood?  You begin to hyperventilate again, the edges of your vision seem to crumble away.

> Be Dave

No! No you’re real!

> Be Dave

Stop! Leave me alone!

> Be Dave

Please.

> Be Vriska ::::)

Your name is Vriska, no last name, other than Strider. You look out from under your fingers, Dirk looks concerned, he should! He made poor Karkat so sad that you had to come out and help him! Dissociative Identity Disorder huh? You mull over that, that would explain a few things.

You’ve done this before, you’ve played this game. You suppress a smirk.

“... Dirk?” you mutter, rubbing your eyes, “what the f- what are you doing in here?”

You look at your wet hands as if you just saw them for the first time, “Have I been crying?”

“Dave,” wrong! But that was the point after all, “you’re back.”

“Shit did I- did I black out? Did I hurt you?” You scoot close to him, making a show of inspecting his body. You remember everything of course, eeeeeeeeverything, Karkat didn’t do a thing.

“I’m fine, are you feeling alright?”

“I-” you feign thinking, “I’m feeling a little angry? And scared? But it’s, going away now…”

“Do you remember anything?” And does he ever stop asking questions he already knows the answer to? And he wonders why Dave is getting sick of him. You repress the urge to roll your eyes.

“No, you know I don’t remember blackouts.” You can’t resist throwing a little bite in there, he should know better anyway.

“Right, I’ll let you wind down a bit.” He’s not going to say anything? “But we’re going to talk at dinner, don’t worry, it’s pizza.”

Once he leaves and shuts the door you cackle silently, grin filling your face. He must have been really out of it himself, Karkat didn’t notice, but you aaaaaaaalways do. You make a mental note to keep tabs on the conversation, you’ll remember it anyway, but it’d be nice to actually be there instead of relying on someone else’s memories.

Anyways, DID, you had considered it yourself, but Dave didn’t know enough about it to make you look into it more. Besides, even if he didn’t remember you were there, he still remembered what you did in his body. If you had looked into it, he’d know, and you didn’t feel like revealing yourself just yet.

Though you suppose the cat’s out of the bag now, you sigh. Maybe you could make a game of it, see how long you can hide from Dave even after he knows he’s not alone?

> Be Dave

Time’s up, as it always is once the brain recognizes the ‘danger’ has passed. You get into a more Dave-like position in preparation for his arrival. Last time you didn’t, he noticed and got confused, though he never remembers the small stuff like that before he gets back.

> Be Dave

Your name is Dave Strider, and you blink to reorient yourself as you wonder just what Dirk could possibly want?

Chapter Text

> Be Dirk

The world is spinning around you, and you have to fight to keep your balance. You’re glad Dave came back when he did, both for his own sake and because if you had to see him acting like that any longer you wouldn’t have been able to stay calm. Or, in this case, pretend to be calm.

You wonder if you acted right, and you try to review internally what you said, but it’s all a blur of panic panic panic and my baby brother is hurt.

That’s always happened for you, you shutting down the second he’s in trouble, you’ve never let the mask slip in front of him. You don’t want to let him down, to ever let him think his protector is so so very fragile. It’s a bit manipulative, but he’s everything you’ve got, sometimes you have to pretend a little just to keep someone safe.

And for fucks sake, Karkat Vantas? What? You don’t believe for a second that was really an alien, especially after Dave came back. But, you could have sworn even if alternate personalities thought they were someone else they at least knew who the real one was. You genuinely had no clue what to do, and you can only hope you were respectful enough.

Your breathing evens out, and you’re able to stand normally now. You head downstairs to get some water, god knows you need it, especially with the headache threatening to fuck with you.

You pull out your phone as the glass fills up, with a few quick taps you order a large pizza, half meatlovers half cheese with sardines, yours and Dave’s personal favourites. Once thats done you flop into the nearest chair and run a hand through your hair.

How did it come to this. You were worried about this, but you had hoped Dave would come out unscathed, aside from the given PTSD and trauma. You debate texting Mildred about the whole event, but ultimately decide that’s something for Dave to tell her, even if you do have her number.

Instead, you take the opportunity to text another one of your friends, one who might know a little more about the situation than you. You just hope she’ll keep her lips sealed.

TG: dirkytyyy
TT: Roxy, I could use some advice.
TG: omg, the amazin dirk strider asking me 4 advice?
TG: lay it on me distri, wats ur problem
TG: *pats the spot next to me all friuendly and inviting*
TG: friendly*
TT: *Sits down*
TT: I need you to keep this a secret, it’s about Dave.
TT: Please keep the fact I told you this a secret from him as well.
TG: w8 rlly? wooowww were doing gossip now, very rude distri shame on u
TG: okay oaky zippered lisps
TT: Your friend, Calliope; she has DID, correct?
TG: ur circling aroundt he point dirk uve gotta get 2 it
TG: and yea shes a system
TT: I heard a loud thudding sound from Dave’s room, and when I checked on him he was on the floor.
TT: He didn’t recognize me and he was calling himself Karkat, he thought he was an alien.
TT: Dave returned to normal shortly after, but he doesn’t know, I’m going to tell him about it over pizza.
TG: holy shit distri why didnt you tell him soonre
TG: sooner*
TT: Look, I wasn’t thinking clearly, would you have if you saw Rose in that position?
TG: idk mayeb! its a lot less freaky when you already know somewun with it
TG: but yeah sorry that does sound freaky :(
TT: Freaky doesn’t even begin to describe it, Roxy what do I do?
TG: mmmmm tell u what
TG: ill ask callie if i can give u her chumhandle
TG: but im not rlly an expert just bcuz i know her
TT: That will do, thank you.
TG: uhhhh actualy i do have smthn
TG: dont sya that karkat is the same as davey, theyre diferent, i dont talk to callie like shes cali yknow?
TG: and its not going back 2 normal if its going back to dave
TG: thats kdinda rude
TT: I’ll try to be better, but you have to understand how this feels to me.
TG: ik

You place your phone back in your pocket, hopefully you’ll be able to talk to Calliope sooner rather than later. The fact you even need to at all sends shivers down your spine. Will Dave, or his alternate personalities - you correct yourself - even care about you? Karkat clearly didn’t see you as his brother. Fuck what if you lose him, what if he loses himself?

Dave comes downstairs stretching and yawning, his shades back on. You had noticed they had fallen on the floor earlier, and are grateful they weren’t damaged.

“Yo, you said Pizza for dinner, right?” Dave asks, stretching out on the couch as he switches on the TV. He looks surprisingly calm, you imagine if he knew what had just transpired he wouldn’t be nearly as relaxed.

“I did, it’s already on its way.” Dave nods coolly, just as Bro had taught you both. You don’t like seeing his behaviors on him, and Dave feels the same for you. But it’s nothing either of you can help, not when he was your sole guardian growing up. Your own therapist has told you to frame it as Dave’s behaviors, rather than Bro’s, but you have a hard time recontextualizing it.

Karkat also had some of Bro’s mannerisms, far less obvious on him than Dave, but it stands out in your mind. You paid a lot of attention to how he acted, as out of it as you were, instinctually perhaps.

“So, mind giving me a sneak peek of what I’m going to have to deal with by dinner? I don’t feel like repeating the whole school thing for the tenth time.”

“The blackout.” You state simply, unwilling to give any more information. It’s a bit cruel of you, but you really don’t feel like tackling it right now. Besides, you’d rather the both of you have full stomachs for it.

“Cool, cool, gotta love the two word response, really giving me a lot to work with.” Dave bites back, fiddling with the remote.

“It’s not going to be a happy conversation, for either of us.” You elaborate, Dave looks at you, and nods after you meet his eyes. As if he could see exactly just how hesitant you were. A moment of mutual understanding that you found yourself missing more and more these days.

The pair of you sit in silence after that, with you scrolling through social media and him watching some random comedy movie. You keep glancing at the clock on your phone, you can’t tell if you want the pizza to come sooner or later. The anticipation is killing you, and you just want to get it over with.

The doorbell rings, and you suppress a flinch.

You find yourself at the door, before you even consciously recognize you moved. You promptly open it to see the tired delivery driver at your doorstep.

You find kinship in his exhausted, barely holding on expression. You make contact and nod in solidarity, as you silently exchange payment for pizza. He blinks slowly, wishing you luck in your quest, you do the same. In a moment of sheer spontaneity, you gave him a $100 tip, and close the door before you can watch his reaction when he notices.

“Pizza’s here, you get to pick, table or couch.” You call out, and Dave remains seated. Couch it was then. You grab some paper plates from the kitchen and bring them over, a pair of slices on each plate. You reach for the remote and turn off the television.

“I’m sorry,” you start, and Dave just looks at you, lost.

“What’s the deal with the apology? You haven’t even said anything.” Dave asks, holding his plate but not touching the pizza.

“I’m sorry we’re having this conversation at all. If I’m being honest, and I am, I really don’t want to be having it. But it’s something you have to know.”

Dave nods slowly, but his expression doesn’t change. He takes a bite of pizza.

“When you blacked out, you didn’t attack me,” you take a breath and watch Dave chew, “you- you thought you were someone else. You called yourself Karkat.”

“Uh, seriously? You're saying I had some kind of psychotic break?”

“Not psychotic, you remember Roxy’s friend Calliope?”

“The chick with two personalities? Yeah, yeah I do. Are you trying to say I’m like that?” Dave’s head is lowered, like he’s gauging for your reaction. It feels predatory, it feels like he’s analyzing you for weaknesses. It feels like depending on what you say next he’ll break.

You’re overthinking, “I believe so, your symptoms align for a dissociative disorder. I’m not a psychologist, but it all lines up.”

Dave doesn’t say anything after that, just takes another bite of his pizza. You’re glad he still has an appetite, you know you don’t.

“That sounds like a load of bullshit to me. It was just one time, that doesn’t mean anything. I just… lost it. That’s all. I’m not…” he pauses to gesture to himself, something meaningless and entirely emotional in nature “crazy. I’m not crazy.”

“I’m not saying you are Dave.” You calmly articulate, trying to hide the building storm inside.

“You’re saying I have a disorder, that’s exactly what you’re saying.” Dave snaps back.

“You already have PTSD.”

“And that’s all I have!” Dave raises his voice, his hands are balled into fists. His teeth are grit and he’s dripping red with sweat. He looks terrified, he looks like Karkat.

You pull out your phone, and text him The List.

His own phone chimes and he looks at it in confusion, “What is this?”

“It’s a list of every symptom of DID that’s currently understood. With asterisks next to the symptoms you have told me about or I have seen you experience.”

“Are you- are you fucking kidding me!” he stands up, paper plate forgotten as the pizza falls on the floor. His Strider genes shine through as he looms in front of you, taking up most of your vision. His hands are spread out in disbelief.

“I’m not crazy Dirk! I’m not crazy! I’m fucked up, sure, but I’m not crazy! I blacked out once, once and that’s all it takes for you to think I’m a fucking nutcase? Seriously? And for once in your life can you stop looking like that!” He yells, and the dam breaks, tears begin to stream down his face under his shades.

He pushes them up to rub at his eyes, “Stop fucking, looking at me like that. Like you don’t care, like we’re just talking about the weather. Like you’re not trying to convince me I’m insane.”

You flinch. Oh. You didn’t mean to hurt him.

“I’m. I’m sorry Dave I didn’t-”

“Are you,” his voice is flat, “if you’re so sorry why are you telling me at all.”

“You were going to find out anyway, I just didn’t want it to be worse.”

He takes a deep breath, slowly trying to calm himself. He looks at the plate on the floor.

“I’ll take a look at the list, but I’m heading to my room.” You nod as he pushes his shades back down and heads to the kitchen. With a new plate of pizza he returns upstairs. Alone again, you flop down on the couch.

At least he took it into consideration. It could have been worse, it could have been a lot worse. You rub at the scar on your neck.

You turn the TV back on, putting it on Adult Swim. Only a few more hours before Toonami, and you can relax with anime. Hopefully by then your appetite will come back. Though you’re not holding your breath.

Chapter Text

> Be Dave

It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean anything at all, Dirk was just confused. It didn’t mean anything. Is what you’re telling yourself as you look through the list. It’s not a long one, but it takes you a few tries to comprehend each line. Only a few symptoms are missing an asterisk, and those are just things you haven’t told Dirk about.

You open your browser to google disorders similar to DID, which is what the list Dirk sent you was titled as. You find OSDD, but those are apparently just DID minus a few symptoms, that’s not helpful.

Could you really have DID? The written accounts you’re looking at line up with your experiences eerily well. But you’d know if you were hearing any voices, or if you changed personalities, memory loss be damned.

You have been losing interest in your interests, and you’ve been growing distant from your friends. But that doesn’t mean you’re turning into someone else, it’s just stupid paranoia.

Speaking of paranoia, you’re terrified you’ll hear someone else other than you in your head right now. You want to be alone. You don't want anyone else with you. You’re you, no one else.

Karkat Vantas, why did that name sound familiar?

It hits you, and you open up your SBAHJ planning document on your computer. You’re the only one who knows about it, and it’s kind of embarrassing how long it is. You had fleshed out almost 100 pages of shitty joke lore, ironically of course. You find it under Trolls, the alien species you made up for SBAHJ. The joke was that they all had six letters in their first and last name, and you had made a few example names. Karkat Trysoq and Greego Vantas were two of them.

Your head hurts. You feel a pressure invading your mind.

Was that Karkat?

You ignore the tiny voice, which is thankfully still just your own.

You close the document, hoping it would go away, and miraculously, it does. You don’t like the implications of that one bit.

You try to think back to any times you might have been taken over by someone else. The blackouts were the first thing to come to mind, but strangely enough some other more innocuous moments catch your eye. The way Akwete’s cat-pun infested prose came so easily, sometimes even when you weren’t roleplaying, how easily you were able to banter with Rose when you were pretending to be a catty noblewoman, how when you were reading books about fossils and mysterious animal specimens it felt like you weren’t alone.

One moment stands out to you. A time a while ago, before you had left Bro.

Dirk was sick, he couldn’t keep you safe, you were terrified.

Someone told you it was all going to be okay, that he’d be safe, that you were brave.

You were too young to understand what it meant. What it could mean for you.

You find yourself struggling to keep your expression from shifting. You remember your breathing.

You can’t ignore this, can you? You can’t hope it goes away.

You sit down on your bed, and take deep breaths to calm yourself. You feel like you’re crazy, but you already are. It was probably a bad idea, but you can’t stay unsure like this.

You think to yourself, strongly, ‘Karkat?’

The pressure returns.

‘Hey uh, you there?’

It grows stronger, your head hurts again.

‘It’s Dave, you know, the guy whose body you took?’

Your face twitches, but only once.

‘Can you do something if you’re there? Say something.’

Loosely, and not by your command, your mouth moves, just barely.

“Something,” he whispers.

You try to open your mouth to reply, but you can’t move. Sensation is dull, but you can still think.

‘Uh, you kinda took my body, can I have it back?’

He shakes your head wildly, and sensation returns to you. Including pain in your neck, ow, you pat your hair down to something resembling its usual look.

‘Hey next time be a little easier on the neck. You can’t do the think-talking thing, can you?’

You hear a muffled voice, like someone from the next room over trying to talk to you.

‘Huh?’

‘I said smartass, I fucking tried that already! Do you think I want to take over your gross alien body?’ Huh, not the voice you expected. He sounded like the epitome of an angry teenager, with a high pitched rough, but still boyish voice. Didn’t you hear that voice on a show once?

‘Well I’ve got good news for you then, I can hear you now.’ The whole situation is kind of lost on you, you feel like you should be a lot more appalled that you were able to get a response. Instead you feel a sort of cool detachment, like an observer of your own life. Classic disassociation, you give a silent little thank you to your brain because honestly this is one situation you don’t want to have a clear head for.

‘Well lucky you! I don’t give a rat’s ass, I just want out of here! Your “brother” is crazy, he thinks I’m some stupid hallucination your weird alien thinkpan thought up!’ You internally chuckle at the word thinkpan, one of the stupid terms you had come up with for the trolls. Though, the gravity of it starts to set in, he doesn’t realize he’s not real.

‘So uh, were you able to see any of what just happened?’ You decide to ease him into it, fuck knows you wish Dirk did that a little more for you.

‘No. Last thing I can remember is passing out and then you talking to me.’ Huh, so he didn’t remember looking at the SBAHJ document? Weird, you know you felt him then.

‘Yeah so, I kiiinda think he was right,’ you feel a sense of shock and confusion which isn’t yours and sends you reeling, yeah, sure, that can happen, ‘Turns out everything lines up and-’

Before you can finish, you’re pulled out of your body, this time much more forcefully. You can still see and hear but everything else is completely gone.

“Hoof-beast-shit, I’m real! I don’t care if I can’t remember shit, that’s just because I’m stuck in your dumb human brain that’s all!” He shouts, breathing heavily. You notice the use of the word brain this time, he slipped up.

‘Calm down,’ your voice is muffled, a lot like his was, though still understandable, ‘I’m trying to help.’

“No, you’re trying to trick me into thinking I’m just you!” You can’t feel it but you can see your hands moving just out of your vision, though Karkat’s anger is blurring your eyes.

‘Want proof?’

‘What?’ His voice asks weakly, and you’re back in your body.

“I can show you,” you say out loud this time, with how loud he was shouting you don’t really feel the need to hide it anymore.

Hesitance, ‘Fine, show me your so-called proof’

You sit back at your desk, and reopen the document. There’s a bit of confusion as you scroll, until you reach the pages on trolls.

You read it to yourself, but your internal voice takes on Karkat’s characteristics. It’s not like before where you were losing sensation, this time it’s like you’re sharing your body. This time you can feel his shuddery breaths.

“You… You’re lying, you just took this from my memories somehow.” Karkat whispers.

“It says last edited yesterday, I couldn’t lie about this if I wanted to.” You state, recognizing the irony in this entire situation. You’re exactly where Dirk was a moment ago.

“Fuck… fuck…” This time it’s Karkat who’s crying, you can’t say you’re surprised. You’re both in the exact same boat, both your lives completely changed forever. Or, you suppose, your shared life.

Karkat leaves you alone in your body, and you clean off his tears. You realize just how dry your throat is, and sigh. You really don’t feel like going back downstairs.

Instead you eat your pizza, which fortunately is greasy enough to go down just fine by itself. Karkat doesn’t say anything, and after reaching out to nothing but radio silence you get the feeling he’s not going to for a bit. Honestly, you don’t feel like talking to him either.

It’s surreal, talking to someone who isn’t you in your own brain. He feels like and not like you at the same time, like you’re just playing a character. But the emotions, the fear, the pain, they were too real to be fake. No matter how much you wish they were.

It sucks. You don’t want to deal with this from now on.

You want to just ignore it, maybe it’ll go away. Maybe you’ll even forget it. God knows its stressful enough for you to.

But for now, you’re exhausted. You can barely even muster up the energy to finish eating. It takes effort to get up from your bed and toss the plate in the trash can.

All of this can be a problem for tomorrow Dave, you decide, and turn out the lights. Normally you prefer to stay up later, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.

Burying yourself under the large comforter you find your mind drifting into making plans for the future, what to do, how this could change things.

Then it turns into how you can write this into SBAHJ, then it turns to Karkat showing up in SBAHJ and before you know it, you’re only dreaming.

> Dave: Rest

By the time you awaken you’re feeling a lot better mentally. Granted, you still absolutely loathe the idea you’re some kind of lunatic, but better than before. Though, honestly, talking to your weird brain alien ended up making it seem a lot more normal. That was probably the crazy talking though.

You’re not feeling very hungry, but Dirk will get upset if you don’t eat, so might as well bite the bullet. After changing to your day clothes you make your trek to the kitchen, where Dirk is cooking breakfast. Hashbrowns and bacon, delicious, but way too heavy for how small your appetite is.

You give him a cool nod, and hope he doesn’t talk as you pick up a small plate and put on not even a serving. Honestly even the small amount you did put on is making your stomach churn, but it’s better than the alternative.

Returning upstairs you just sit at your desk, you’re risking getting your setup covered in food, but you’re in the mood for a conversation with anyone but Dirk and Karkat.

Would you look at that, Roxy is pestering you.

TG*: heyyy daveyyyyyy :0
TG: sup rox
TG*: sup with you? lol
TG*: i heaaaard from the grapefine u were having a rough day… so i thouhgt id ask hwo ur doing
TG*: so that sup WAS genuine ;P
TG*: grapevine*
TG: what did dirk tell you? he better not have spilt our strider secrets
TG*: no ckrets! just saying hes worried about u… said his poor little babby bro was really going through ti
TG: im fine, just had a bad night
TG*: you kno its bad when ur not cracking jokes :(
TG*: tell youw hat ive got smthn for u
TG*: BAM!
– tipsyGnostalgic [TG*] sent turntechGodhead [TG] the file “sbahjfanart31.jpg” –
TG: damn, what corner of the internet did you dredge this up this from?
TG*: i miiighta brought it up 2 callie

Calliope, the mention is already enough to sour your mood. Though, the image is different from how you heard her works described, not that you’ve seen any. Either she knew the perfect level of shittiness or-

TG*: shes not the 1 who drew it tho that was her brother
TG*: parerently he rlly likes it

Brother, what your told Calliope likes to call her split personality, though you never caught the name yourself. You find it a bit weird, but you guess you understand, rolls off the tongue a lot easier than the alternative.

TG: damn, tell him hes a real artisan then
TG: this is some high quality garbage
TG: wait hold on is this genuine
TG: roxy youve gotta tell me if he seriously draws like this
TG*: yeppppp callie sent me afew of what he calls his “masterpiescs”
TG: holy shit
TG: thats incredible
TG: youve gotta get me calliopes handle
TG: i need to see more of this shit

The perfect excuse, you can get into contact with someone else going through this. You silently congratulate yourself for the maneuver.

You’re welcome! ::::)

What were you just thinking? Oh yeah, Roxy.

TG*: ill c what i can do
TG*: i can ask her about it
TG: sweet
TG: uh and thanks for caring
TG: dont really say this but its uh
TG: never mind
TG*: dw i can read through all ur strider stoicism
TG*: message received lil cuz
TG: sweet

Feeling awkward after that, you just opt to close the chat window and lean back in your chair. You’re not sure if you even want to talk to Calliope about all of this, you don’t even know her. You met her once, but you didn’t really talk.

Then again who else do you have to talk to? Dirk is… Dirk, and you can’t exactly talk to the voices in your head about this, you doubt they know any more than you.

You’re still thinking when Pesterchum dings, Jade’s pestering you.

GG: hey dave!
TG: yo harley
GG: wanna roleplay? :)

You know what, oddly enough, you actually do.

TG: sounds good :3

> Be Akwete Purrmusk

Chapter Text

> Be Akwete Purrmusk

Be Akwete? Silly, you’re still Dave, you’re just rolepurrlaying, roleplaying. Yes sometimes your pretending leaks into your brain a little bit, but it’s still purrtending! Doesn’t everyone go through that? Actually…

TG: hey jade? *saunters up next to you all cutely*
TG: do you efur feel like mewre character even when youre not writing them?
GG: nope! also kind of silly to ask when youre doing your akwete voice

Huh, so that’s that then, you’re not Dave. Feels kind of nice to say actually. Not Dave, nooot Dave. You don’t know how you feel about being Akwete, but it’s better than nothing.

‘Well shit.’

Yeah, that was kind of sudden, huh? You’re not complaining though, it’s better than you still thinking you were Dave for even longer.

‘Yeah hold on a second, can you let me back in?’

Wait, Dave can read your thoughts? Weird, he couldn’t read Karkat’s.

‘Probably because we thought we were the same person, but seriously, my body?’ Oh right, whoops.

> Be Dave

There you go, you should probably actually respond to Jade again…

TG: yeah sorry something just came up
TG: dont actually know if we can roleplay
GG: oh
GG: thats okay!
TG: sorry jade
GG: nooooo dont be sorry its okay!

You feel a bit bad for it, especially when ‘The Reason’ is just you not wanting someone else in control, but you’re not ready yet. You think she’d understand.

‘She would!’ Damn, the hearing each other’s thoughts thing was mutual apparently, that’s gonna get annoying quick.

‘Oh, uh, I can try shutting them meowt? Sorry Dave, I’m kinda mew to all this too.’ You get the distinct image of a sad cartoon cat, huh, neat.

‘Yeah, go ahead and do that.’ Something shifts and you feel like you can breathe a little easier, did it work? At the lack of reply, you assume it did.

‘So uh, you’re just… Here now?’

‘I was before but yeah! I think so!’

‘Am I going to have to let you roleplay with Jade more or something?’ Will he get bored if you don’t? Is he even around when you’re not thinking about him? Karkat wasn’t, but then again he didn’t think he was you.

‘Uhh… I don’t really know,’ once again you get the feeling he’s frowning, ‘I think I want to come meowt more? But I dunno, it’s weird thinking of us as diffurent people…’

You can understand that, you feel the exact same way. That only makes sense, outside of the internal voice you’d need to be pretty similar to not notice any differences between you. Though, if you act so similar, why the hell are you different people? You don’t understand any of this, least of all the logic behind the choices in people.

Hold that thought, you’re getting a message, you’re popular this morning. It’s from a handle you don’t recognize, undyingUmbrage [uu], you didn’t even know chumhandles could have lowercase letters.

– undyingUmbrage [uu] sent turntechGodhead [TG] the file "Chumsplitter.exe” –
TG: dude
TG: i dunno how easy a mark you think i am
TG: but im not just going to download something from some random handle i dont know
TG: try a little harder next time you hack someone
uu: DAVE.

Oh shit, wait was this Calliope? You consider reopening your chat with Roxy, but she’s already gone offline.

uu: I KNOW WHO YOU ARE. DAVE STRIDER. I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE
uu: YOU THINK I AM A HACKER? A TROLL? YOU DO NOT EVEN KNOW THE BEGINNING OF IT. IF YOU SAW THE THINGS I’VE DONE YOUR TINY INSIGNIFICANT HUMAN BRAIN WOULD IMPLODE.
uu: BUT I MEAN NO HOSTILITY. DAVE. NO… TONIGHT I AM ONLY ONE THING. YOUR HELPER. YOUR MENTOR.
uu: I KNOW WHY YOU ASKED ROXY FOR OUR HANDLES. YOU NEED MY HELP. BUT THERE MUST BE A PRICE.
TG: what the fuck
TG: holy shit are you for real? this isnt a prank right
TG: your caliborn?

Your grin is both baffled and amazed, you had heard stories of the man, but witnessing him yourself was something incredible. He’s either the world’s most dedicated troll or the world’s most hilarious man.

‘I don’t like him.’ Your loss, Akwete.

uu: DID YOU THINK I WAS MY USELESS BITCH OF A SISTER
uu: WRONG. WRONG ON ALL ACCOUNTS.
uu: THIS IS WHY YOU NEED MY TUTELAGE. YOU NEED MY GUIDANCE TO NOT BE SO TERRIBLY WRONG AND STUPID.
uu: DOWNLOAD THE FILE DAVE.
TG: hey slow down man i cant keep up will all your capslock
TG: also maybe i will if you tell me what the file is
TG: but probably not
uu: I DO NOT USE “CAPSLOCK”.
uu: THAT IS A TOOL ONLY WEAKLINGS USE.
TG: jegus christ
TG: are you supposed to be the evil one or something
uu: YES. FINALLY YOU GET SOMETHING RIGHT.

uu: CONGRATULATIONS DAVE STRIDER. MY TEACHINGS ARE ALREADY TAKING HOLD.
uu: BUT. YOU WONDER. WHAT EXACTLY AM I SUPPOSED TO BE TEACHING YOU?
uu: I KNOW THE TRUTH DAVE STRIDER. THE TRUE REASON YOU REACHED OUT TO ME.
uu: YES. MY MASTERPIECES ARE A WONDER TO BEHOLD. BUT IT WAS ONLY AN EXCUSE. WASN’T IT?
uu: NO. THE TRUE REASON YOU REACHED OUT WAS BECAUSE YOU DISCOVERED SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF. SOMETHING ONLY I COULD HELP YOU WITH.
uu: YOU ARE NOT ALONE IN YOUR BRAIN. ARE YOU?

How does he know that? Did Dirk seriously spill the beans without telling you? Damn it Dirk, you don’t even know if you have DID, you’re not ready to let anyone know you have it. You would have told Calliope, but talking to Caliborn is making your initial plan of getting help from her considerably less appealing. He’s funny, but not someone you want help from.

‘Maybe he’s just assumewing?’ Akwete chimes in, which is something you’ll be dealing with from now on you guess.

TG: okay so i dont know where your getting that idea
TG: but yeah i am, i think your projecting dude
TG: still havent answered what the file is
uu: I’M GETTING TO THAT. PATIENCE DAVE.
uu: AND NO. I AM NOT “PROJECTING”. I KNOW YOU’RE TALKING TO ONE OF YOUR HEADMATES AS WE SPEAK.

‘Shit, he’s good.’ you and Akwete say in unison, which is a totally new and strange feeling to have.

TG: fine, the jig is up
TG: yes officer caliborn i have split personalities
TG: i plead guilty
uu: DO NOT COMPARE ME TO THOSE PIGS. I AM FAR MORE COMPETENT AND POWERFUL THAN AN OFFICER OF THE LAW COULD EVER BE.
uu: BUT GOOD. NOW WE CAN BEGIN.
uu: THE FILE I SENT YOU IS A MODIFICATION TO YOUR PESTERCHUM PROGRAM.
uu: IT ALLOWS YOU TO ACCESS MULTIPLE ACCOUNTS AT THE SAME TIME.
uu: IT COMES IN HANDY FOR PEOPLE LIKE US.
TG: okay why would i even need something like that
TG: i dont need an account for every personality what’s even the point
uu: DISTINCTION. NOT EVERY HEADMATE WILL BE AS DISTINCT AS MY SISTER AND I.
uu: IT ALSO AUTOMATICALLY MAKES GROUP CHATS. SO IF YOU SWITCH MID CONVERSATION YOU DO NOT HAVE TO START A NEW ONE.
TG: yeah sounds handy but no thanks
TG: i dont exactly trust someone who talks like a serial killer with random .exe files
uu: FINE. AS AN EXTENSION OF GOOD WILL. I WILL INFORM YOU IT CAN ALSO BE FOUND ON “GOOGLE”.
uu: NOW I AM FAR MORE TRUSTWORTHY THAN A RANDOM WEBSITE. BUT I AM AWARE I CAN BE “OFFPUTTING”. THIS IS ON PURPOSE. TO DRIVE AWAY THOSE UNWORTHY OF MY PRESENCE.

Understatement of the century, but searching the name Chumsplitter does reveal a website, several reddit threads complimenting the user-friendly nature of the plug-in, and a few obvious fake links. For something you’ve never heard of before, it seems pretty popular.

Clicking on the website, after making sure it’s the right one, reveals exactly what Caliborn described. In fact, quite a few portions of his description were quoted directly from the page. You’re not surprised, but what is surprising is the fact it was actually made for people with DID, or as it calls them, systems and other plural people.

You don’t recognize those terms, but looking them up reveals some other common terminology. Switching personalities is called switching, different personalities are called headmates or alters, and system is the term for the whole group of alters. And being in front, is when an alter is in control of the body. The website treats each headmate as a separate person from each other, which you don’t quite get, shouldn’t you be doing the opposite?

Another term you find is something that gives you pause. Host, the headmate who is in front the most. The description emphasizes that the host isn’t necessarily the original owner of the body, and that the host can change multiple times throughout a person’s life, sometimes without noticing. The idea that you might not be the only Dave is… unsettling, and you hope silently to yourself that you always have been, and always will be, the host.

You contemplate downloading it, but end up just bookmarking the tab. You don’t quite get the point of it yourself, but considering how widely used it is, it might be useful in the future.

While you were busy looking that up, it looks like Caliborn continued talking.

uu: AND AS MY MENTEE I EXPECT ONLY THE BEST FROM YOU.
uu: INCLUDING NOT COMPLETELY IGNORING YOUR BENEFACTOR.
TG: chill
TG: i was only gone for what
TG: a minute?
TG: give a guy a second to breathe
uu: I KNOW IT DOES NOT TAKE HUMANS A MINUTE TO BREATHE. YOU ARE LYING DAVE. ATTEMPTING TO DECEIVE ME. IS THAT ANY WAY TO TREAT SOMEONE GIVING YOU A GIFT?
TG: yeah i dont feel like trying to reason with whatever that just was
TG: also why do you keep saying humans, your human dude
uu: NO. I AM NOT. I AM AN ALIEN WHO GOT TRAPPED IN THIS FEEBLE HUMAN BODY.
TG: hold on didnt you just say you were also ‘plural’ or whatever?
uu: I SAID I KNEW WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO HAVE SOMEONE ELSE IN YOUR BRAIN. BUT. THAT DOES NOT MEAN I CANNOT HELP YOU. I HAVE BEEN SENT TO MANY DIFFERENT PSYCHOLOGISTS WHO TAUGHT ME THE “INS AND OUTS” OF SHARING A BODY. I AM AN EXPERT EVEN.

Yeah, you’re blocking this guy, he’s funny but fucking crazy. Maybe his sister is more sane, but you’re not going to be accepting help from someone who thinks he’s a fucking alien.

‘What about Karkitty?’ Hm, yeah that was a bit hypocritical. Hopefully at least your brain alien can get the memo he’s not real. Speaking of…

‘You there Karkat?’ A headache, but no response, still not feeling chatty then. Disappointing, but not surprising.

You sigh, not sure what to do now. You could message someone else, but talking to Caliborn used up most of your social energy. You already finished your breakfast, so that’s out.

You glance at the tabs, all opened to various websites about systems. Maybe you could do a bit more research? This plurality thing is honestly overwhelming for you though, even if you are only half processing it. So, instead, you boot up your fancy new drawing tablet.

What better way to vent out your feelings through your art?

> Dave: Work on your masterpiece

‘Hmmm, maybe mew could add some hearts?’ Akwete suggests, as you’re working on a new page. You’re halfway through your third drawing, feeling more motivated than you’ve been in some time.

‘What’s with you and romance?’ Akwete has made a few suggestions like that while you’ve been drawing. He has a similar interest in art as you, which makes sense, while you were playing the role of Akwete you did draw quite a bit. Though his tastes seem to be a bit more sincere.

‘I dunno! I just think it’d be cute. Oh! Maybe a Meowentines Day special!’ You like that idea actually, though you don’t think you’d have thought of it yourself. Honestly, you kind of like having Akwete around, having someone over your shoulder other than Dirk is more useful than you expected.

You wonder why Akwete is so much more active than Karkat, maybe it’s because he’s been around longer? You don’t think you’re complaining though, Akwete’s sincerity is honestly refreshing. You have no idea how your irony-poisoned brain managed to come up with someone so genuine, especially given Akwete’s origins.

‘Hey. Um…’ Akwete starts hesitantly, ‘I know mew said mew didn’t want someone else in control but… Can I draw?’ You pause midstroke, creating an ugly line through the canvas. You don’t delete it, it works.

You give it a bit of thought. Having someone else front talking was something you weren’t ready for, but maybe doing it in private would be different? The idea feels wrong but… At the same time, you do feel bad for not letting Akwete talk, and you can always switch back, right?

You’re going to sooner or later, so why not sooner? Besiiiiiiiides, what’s the harm in it? It’s not like Akwete wants to do anything you wouldn’t do. Guilt isn’t really the best reason, but it’s better than waiting around and never letting anyone else out. If you can’t trust yourself, who else can you trust?

Your vision is a bit blurry, and you blink to fix it. Yeah, might as well, worst case scenario he ends up talking to someone else, right?

‘Yeah dude, go for it. Just let me back in when someone tries talking to me, cool?’ You get the feeling Akwete nods, and sensation begins to fade away.

> Be Akwete

You’re back! You flex your hands a bit, doing some stretches to soothe your muscle pains. Honestly, Dave needed to be nicer to his hands, he knows stretches are important! You make your hands into a claw shape, the most impurrtant stretch of all.

You save the current work in progress and start a new one. It’s a bit self indulgent, inspired by your earlier suggestions. But Sweet Bro and Hell Jeff just have the purrfect chemistry! You don’t get why Dave doesn’t see it, especially with how he already leans into the homoeroticism of two unrelated dudes living together.

You grin to yourself, bearing imaginary fangs. Yes, very self indulgent. You expect a response from Dave, but after relinquishing control to you he seems to have vanished!

‘Dave?’ You ask, a bit concerned.

‘Here.’ You’re puzzled by the short response, but anything’s better than nothing.

Wow, you’re having more fun with this than you expected. Who knew Akwete Purrmusk was a complete and total fujoshi? Wait, you half remember a conversation Dave had with Dirk, weren’t fujoshi’s just girls? That doesn’t make the title less appealing, but you still drop it anyway. Akwete isn’t a girl, so you aren’t either.

You’re having so much fun, that you barely notice Dirk knocking on the door. That’s a lie, your instincts are as sharp as Dave’s ever were, but it does take you a split second longer than it should have.

‘Dave, Dirk’s knocking!’ You try giving Dave back the reigns, but every time you think it worked, you’re proven wrong by being able to move.

Tiredly, and distantly, ‘It’s fine, he knows.’

‘Uhhhh come in!’ you say, and immediately face palm, so much for avoiding conversation!

When the door opens, you push your chair away from the computer and face Dirk. You force your face into a wide grin, before immediately remembering Dave doesn’t really do that. That’s apparently not enough to make you drop it though.

Dirk looks at you, then at the computer behind you, which is completely visible to him. He points at your work of pure, beautifully portrayed, and also horrendously scandalous yaoi.

“Nice.” Yeah, that’s kind of what you expected.

“Dirk! Hey uhh. Dave’s…” You look behind you, for some reason, as if Dave wasn’t just inside your brain, “Busy. He’s busy. Hi.”

“I can tell.” He deadpans.

“Sorry, I’m trying to bring him back but I think he fell asleep? I don’t know I only just found out I’m not him.” You scratch the back of your head nervously.

“You thought you were him?” Dirk asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah! I mean, I thought I was just a character he rolepurrlayed as sometimes… But then I realized that rolepurrlaying isnt really suppawsed to change the way mew think, or feel…” You press your index fingers together, head lowered as you look up at him.

“Cat puns? You’re… Akwete?” It takes him a second to remember the name, which makes sense, Dave didn’t really talk about you that much to Dirk. Honestly, you weren’t sure if he knew about you at all.

You nod, “Yep! I just asked to draw fur a bit, but when I tried to get him back he sounded really tired. Sorry, I’m trying to get him back, purromise- promise.”

He looks uncomfortable, which you can’t blame him for, “If you’re trying that’s fine, I was going to talk to him about something important though.”

“Maybe mew could talk to me about it? And I can pass on the message?” You offer, feeling a bit guilty about accidentally shutting Dave out of front.

“No.” He rejects immediately, causing your ears to lower? But Dave doesn’t have cat ears? Then he sighs, “Look, just tell him when he gets back to come see me, alright?

You nod, disappointed, but not surprised. You understand why he’d feel uncomfortable talking to someone in the body of his brother, even if it does sting.

He leaves the room, leaving you alone. You just stare at Dave’s hands, how are you getting out of this one?