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[Connor hasn't seen Dave in several days, owing to the fact that sometimes ghosting is self care. Or at least Connor thinks it's self care. Actually, it's probably the opposite and he should stop doing it whenever he has anything resembling an emotion, even if that emotion is complicated trauma about family you thought you were over until your ugly plant baby nearly died.

Point is, Connor spends like thirty seconds staring down at his screen and debating pretending like he didn't see it. Unfortunately, he can hear tension in the music and he's never been good at ignoring the more direct attempts of the music trying to communicate with him. So he takes a flashpoint to where Dave is and... ah. He figured it would be some dumb shit he could fix with a few lines of song, maybe a desperate attempt at curing loneliness, but this is kind of beyond that which only leaves...

He really needs to stop making out with boys only when there's healing involved.]

I lied about mouth-to-mouth. Yes or no?

[Connor kneels, tucking his hair behind his ear and looking down at Dave.]

[What is probably an appropriately swift reaction time for Connor just seems like eons to Dave here with nothing to focus on except the pain he's feeling and the fear that whoever caused it isn't actually finished yet.

He's having some troubling thoughts about this being a terrible way to test if he'll die here and a feeling of dread starts to slowly creep over him.

As such, he is so relieved to see Ceej that he could cry (but he won't). Instead he just limply tilts his head to look up at him, it's at an angle where it's apparent his eyes are not just regular red but painful red as well.

He has some sort of smart ass come back for that but when he tries to say it he coughs, again like some sort of sad crippled boy from classic literature. He shrugs his shoulders, pressing his lips into a thin line in an effort to obscure the fact that he is in a lot of pain and feels extremely vulnerable about it.]

I don't think-- probably not just CPR training is gonna fix it.

I'm multifaceted and I can heal you but we need to sync to do it. Yes or no?

[The slight edge in his voice is back, probably familiar to Dave after nearly
a week spent basically living together. He'll do a lot of things without explicit consent, but this isn't one of them if Dave's coherent enough to make the decision. If he has to pull tricks to get that consent, then whatever. He will.]

[It is vaguely apparent to Dave that Connor is seeking permission. It gives him pause, if only because it's so much harder to say yes, please kiss me back to life than it is to just let it happen.]

Yeah- yep. Sure. Please. [He goes through several layers of wanting to be clear but not wanting to feel entitled to it.]

Didn't know you could.

[He explains, and it's such a waste of his breath to put that out there. He's quite visibly scared, even if he's trying to act nonchalant about the fact that he feels like he's on fire and nobody else can see it except him.]

Okay.

[Connor shifts and straddles Dave in one swift movement, his hands coming up to cradle Dave's face before he bends down and presses their mouths together. He kisses like the prospect of what comes next is utterly terrifying, the unknowable intimacy of the action too much for him and not enough in turn.

Chac'lan, grant me the power to heal this idiot.

It's been explained to him that he doesn't need to pray every time he uses his newfound powers, but he does it anyway. Power is something he channels, not something he inherently possesses, and he doesn't want to change that even if it's technically no longer true.]

[This is all a lot and it is happening very fast, but it's happening. Dave's internal monologue doesn't need to lie about the fact that he's had quick, guilty images of very similar occurrences flash through his head before.

He shifts meekly to accommodate Connor and the very real striking pain reminds him that this neither cute, fun nor fresh and he's not wholly convinced it will work. That would make his last sick trick on this mortal coil kind of an asshole move toward Karkat. Karkat who is home and hopefully safe but totally oblivious.

He tries to push both physical discomfort and guilt into a corner of his mind that he'll deal with later and softens himself against Connor. He winces despite himself, heel of his injured leg digging into the ground and relenting as he relaxes himself.

Synchrony is new to him but he knows it's a mutual thing, so he shifts his hand to rest reassuringly on Connor's wrist. It's a gesture that says: this is totally fine.]

[ at first when dirk comes by he doesn't pay much mind. people make out all over this damn city. but he sees a flash of blond, a glint of aviator, and he stops dead before turning right down the fucking way over. he's not sure what he's going to do at first when he's far enough away that he can't tell dave is injured.

it's probably his fault if dave is queer, now that he thinks about it. got his gay cooties on the one good thing in his life. what a fucking trip that would be. it makes him hate that part of himself even more.

but his thoughts screech to a halt when he sees what's actually happening. ]

Dave?

[ yeah he's there in an instant, kneeling next to him and looking concerned.

well, looking concerned if you're dave and can decipher that goddamn lack of expression. his brow is slightly knit and his mouth is turned down into a one-pixel frown, and he's reaching out almost like he's goddamn scared to touch him. ]

What happened?

[ it doesn't matter which of them replies. he just wants an answer. ]

[Once Dave shuts his mind up, it's easier to just lean into it. His heart is still beating frantically as his body gently reminds him that he's gradually approaching meltdown mode.

He lets his eyes fall shut but makes it a point not let himself get so relaxed he falls unconscious. It's still a lingering possibility, even though he's starting to feel less like he's burning and more like he's pleasantly warm.

He hears a familiar voice. He hears his name. He assumes he's about to pass out and he scrunches his face in an effort to fight off the feeling before he opens his eyes.

Oh God.

Dave looks blearily through his shades while still not fully pulling away from the kiss, then gently taps Connor's wrist quickly and repeatedly as if he's trying to morse code a warning to him.

Once their mouths are apart, Dave goes to clarify that everything is cool and fine. What comes out is not a response, it's a horrible coughing and spluttering noise. He's quick enough to cover his mouth with his hand and pulls it back to see more blood than you normally like to see after something like that. It takes a lot out of him and he winces, shutting his eyes as if he expects when he opens them Bro won't be there and slumping back against the wall.]

Edited 2021-05-22 01:25 (UTC)

[It takes a moment for Connor to pull away. Unfortunate sapphire side effect, maybe, but he does eventually look over at the source of the question and very quickly do some math. With both of them in front of him, he sees the similarities and while he was going to explain that this isn't his doing and he's trying to help what comes out instead is:]

Fuck, you're brothers. Uh, hi. Didn't expect to see you here, La Croixboy.

[Lup would be fucking dying if she could see him right now. Taako would probably have a thing or two to say about it too, and all he can think is "this is Daddy Issues Central." He notes the blood that Dave's coughing up and suddenly he doesn't care anymore.]

Hey. Hey, don't die on me, you stupid boy.

[Connor goes back to ignoring Dirk, music rising in the background as Connor touches his forehead to Dave's.]

When you wake up the world will come around, when you wake up the world will come around.

[The words are soft, almost mumbled, and with them comes a mild wash of relief for Dave. It's more like painkillers than healing.]

Don't call me that.

[ his voice is sharper than it's ever been, and it's probably good that dave is zoning out in his hellish health condition because that's The Voice. the voice he used when he did speak back then. clipped and all business.

still, he quiets after that to allow connor to work, just kind of... tensely waiting. when (if) dave opens his eyes again, dirk will still be right there. waiting.

his frown ticks a little bigger in the meanwhile. ]

[Dave makes a sound that to him sounds like it's saying kind of but man it is so much more complicated than that, it just sort of trails off into a gurgle that says nothing except ow.

Despite the fact that he is extremely aware of the fact that Bro is very close, he still melts back when Connor's forehead touches him. He's manna starved and tired and the gesture is so gentle it nearly makes him forget anything outside of what is happening directly in front of him.

The relief does wash over him, enough for him to gather his bearings enough to force his eyes open and stop himself from passing out. He casts a look to his side, noting Bro is still there and he's giving him a look that is identifiably concerned. He's not sure how that makes him feel, but it does feel weird.

He fidgets under Connor, renewed energy suddenly remind him that things are probably not cool just because he's been found by these guys. It means he can be found by other people who just carry gas grenades around and throw them for fun and the thought makes him scrabble his hands at the ground to try and force himself up.]

We gotta go.

[Absently, Connor places a hand on Dave's chest, trying to keep him still. The music fades out and Connor glances over at Dirk.]

So, your place or mine? To heal your dumbass brother, of course.

[This is a bad day. He's having a bad time right now, and both of these brothers are just going to have to deal with his need to run his mouth when he's nervous. Yes, he kissed your younger brother. Yes, he's gonna hit on your older brother while you can still hear. Let him have this, okay? Connor shifts off of Dave, but doesn't move his hand from his chest.]

Can you stand? Be honest, idiot.

Mine.

[ he shifts though, crouching a little more, and shakes his head. ]

He's not walking anywhere. I've got him.

[ he makes a gesture that says 'i'm going to pick him up now' which he can't quite do with connor's hand on dave's chest. but maybe that's helping him stay alive. damn it.

he just starts to lift dave up as-is, then. it's easy. ]

Probably- [Dave says, and isn't definitively probably yes or probably no because suddenly he's being picked up by Bro and he's a toddler again. He doesn't have to make it seem like he hasn't gotten any bigger since the last time he picked him up. Asshole.

Conveniently, he punctuates the lift with a squeak that he muffles under a grunt. It is not a pained noise because actually he's kind of vibing right now, but he does look deeply uncomfortable with this set up and he's looking anywhere but at Bro in this moment.

At least he isn't writhing around, mostly because he feels kind of like a deadweight and his limbs are just kind of limply hanging out like he's not super interested in clinging onto Bro like a baby koala.]

Edited 2021-05-22 05:13 (UTC)

[Connor lets go of Dave for just long enough that Dirk can pick him up, and then grabs Dave's hand. This would be way faster and easier if he had actually been able to make out with Dave, probably, but whatever. They can do this the slow, platonic way. That's probably the least awkward option here, since he's the only one with the ability to heal. Or at least if Dave's hot older brother can heal, he's not helping any which seems to lead to the conclusion that this is, in fact, riding on Connor.

At least this time he doesn't have to stitch anything up. He feels bad about the blood on the sidewalk but also eh. It's probably not the most concerning thing that's been out there recently.]

Stay conscious, stupid boy. I'm like 95% sure you have to be conscious for this to work.

[It involves synchrony and he's pretty sure that you can only sync with someone while awake. Either way, he doesn't want to test that.]

Also you should tell me your name, La Croixboy.

[ the whole situation is making dirk's nerves sing and not in a good way. there's no clawing fingers in his brain anymore, sure, but just the sight of dave injured has sent him into a sense of turmoil--he remembers flashes of different wounds, of dave in bandages, and not remembering how he got them.

it's so easy to carry dave, it's like he weighs nothing still. he may as well still be as small as a toddler. dirk remembers when the time came that he set dave down and never picked him up again was, because that's supposed to be some kind of depressing milestone, but he can't remember that either.

connor talking to dave is a drone in the back of his mind and the only thing keeping him grounded as he walks to the building he and dave live in. it's not far, at least, and it'll only take a couple of minutes to get there.

at this point a normal father would take his son to the hospital, but the fact remains that dirk hasn't trusted them since before dave showed up and he hasn't ever been to one since he was a kid, so it just doesn't occur to him. instead, some guy they both know is fine healing dave up? sure, it may as well happen.

when connor is talking to him, his head turns minutely toward him. ]

Dirk.

[ he can't make people not dave call him bro, that's just weird. ]

Why're you calling me stupid like I fell assbackward into this?

[Because he didn't tell anyone otherwise, probably.

Despite the mild irritation in his voice, he allows Connor to take his hand and lets himself briefly enjoy it until he remembers he's also being carried around like a sack of potatoes. Not even a sack of potatoes. A sack of feathers.

This is, probably, the gayest he's ever looked.

The connection between himself and Connor does feel good and he feels it move through him from his palm and his fingertips. The little ruby on his cheekbone flickers and his body sends some pangs to remind him that he's manna starved and not safe yet. It stops him from ignoring what Connor literally just told him.

He's a little uncomfortable with the positioning between himself and he shifts, unconsciously seeking out what's more likely to generate manna. It's totally not because he just wants a hug deep down in his soul and now he might die so he might as well. He slips his free arm over Bro's shoulder, letting his arm dangle behind him. His legs also hook lightly around him but only because they're both tall and he'd rather not drag his feet on the ground.

Now that he's settled, it's more comfortable but that's a danger in itself. He rests his head on the crook of his shoulder facing away from them, monitoring their surroundings as they pass just to make sure he isn't leading them into a trap. He's idly listening to the conversation but if he's hoping it will engage him enough to stay awake. No such luck.

He amuses himself with the fact that he looks like he's reverse Yoda-ing Bro, which is great because he also feels like a useless puppet right now. He chuckles lowly to himself, laughing at something nobody else is privy to. He speaks under his breath in what he thinks is a voice so quiet it is inaudible. It's definitely audible.]

Yesss. Run. Yesss a jedi's strength flows from the force. Consume you it will. Nothing more will I teach you today.

[That is absolutely the worst Yoda impression anyone has ever head.]

Yeah, 'cause you're the dumbass padawan. I have the high ground, Dave.

[For the record Connor is, at six feet flat, the shortest person involved here. This probably explains a lot about why, in the future, he's just gonna keep hitting on Dirk. He simply doesn't spend a lot of his time feeling short, especially not when all his friends back home are like 5'4" and he towers over them.]

What'd you even do to get yourself messed up like this, huh?

[Dirk's also here. Connor is simply ignoring that because he can only juggle so many things at once and his concern for Dave is taking up all his spoons. That and he's afraid if he focuses too much on anything else, he'll mess up the synchrony they've got going on.

The sapphire in his ear glitters and he fights down the urge to fix it the easiest way he can think of. It's fine. He can do this by holding Dave's hand, by channeling the flow of manna between them to the areas that need it most. Just like regular first aid, really. Nothing weird about it.]

[ one of the greatest pulls of dirk strider is his unreasonable height, it's true. that's his appeal in a nutshell. muscles and height, since he has nothing else going for him. stupid hat. stupid shades. stupid popped collar. stupid puppets. god why does anyone think he's hot. are they blinded by the twunk status? they must be. sean cody my ass.

anyway that's all my thoughts and not dirk's, because he's too busy hoisting dave up against him and holding him up. both of his arms are around him, holding him against his chest, and it's too much like a hug to call it anything else. maybe dave DID die and this is brother issues heaven. ]

That's what I'd like to know, along with who did it.

[ his voice is normally pretty flat, but that statement is just like ice water over the head. this man fully intends to kill whoever did this to dave, even if he has to hunt them down himself.

it's probably pretty jarring, actually.

then dave has to speak and dirk actually lets out a low... it's a huff of air, but dave, if he's cognizant enough, will be able to recognize it as dirk being genuinely amused about something, which happened so rarely back home. in the good moments.

he sighs afterward. ]

Don't give up your day job, kid. That impression isn't taking you anywhere.

[ it's not long before they reach the building and dirk nods toward connor, who is the only one of them with a free arm, to open the door into the interior where they can get to the hallway where he can lead them to his door. ]

Get that for me.

[It is ridiculous of anyone to expect a straight answer out of him on a normal day. Now? The chances are even slimmer. Dave visibly stalls when Bro's arms move around him.

Maybe their chests are close enough for Bro to feel Dave just fucking flatline for a second there. His hand clenches tightly around Connor's for a brief moment before his grip slacks and he lets himself just be in this and not in his head. It's a good thing he's turned away because he needs to suck his bottom lip hard to stop himself from either crying like a gay moron or vomiting profusely.

His eyes do prickle like he's risking at least one of those options so he squeezes them shut, hissing softly like he's still in pain and not because he's trying to stumble blindly through this bizarre, long-standing fantasy come to life.

The fresh douse of ice from that voice is enough of a shock to the system to get him to stop assholing around with his feelings and think about the matter at hand.]

What? Oh. [He wasn't really listening.]

I dunno. He found me on the roof like he knew I'd be there and he called me an imbecile so he's obviously familiar with me. [Ha ha. His voice catches in his throat, which doesn't hurt as much but it does feel raw.]

It was like a grenade or some shit that he threw at me, so I jumped off the roof.

[Like any normal person would.]

Edited (couldn't let that typo slip) 2021-05-23 00:16 (UTC)

[That's a lot to unpack, so Connor's just gonna. Throw away the suitcase and buy new clothes. Dirk can have the anger, the fury over this. Connor will take the concern. It's better for him. Healthier. Damn, Muffet would be proud of him.

Right. Just open the door.

It takes an amount of maneuvering to open the door and hold it open while simultaneously not letting go of Dave's hand but anything's possible with enough determination and flexibility.]

Like I said: stupid boy.

[Connor is technically almost two years younger than Dave going by chronological time but here he's sixth months older and he's just gonna keep saying "boy" until Dave's coherent enough to make him stop.]

[ dirk is good at the anger. at the violence. it's about all he's good at other than being a sex toy weirdo, so that's kind of his entire wheelhouse out in the open. ]

Did they know you from the network? Could you place them from conversations you've had recently?

[ he knows how much time dave spends online.

with the door open he carries dave inside, modulating his pace to let connor keep holding onto dave's hand. when they get to his door he gently props dave's back against the door and digs for his keys in his pocket, unlocking the door and nudging it open so he can get them inside. he kicks the door shut when they're all in, just a straight up donkey kick back into the door. it probably leaves a mark.

he only lets dave down when they reach the couch, settling him on the cushions. ]

[Dave has begrudgingly accepted his role in life as a big, mildly inconvenient bag of groceries and he allows himself to be shifted around.

He grunts when he's set down, partly relieved to be somewhere soft and comfortable and partly a little disappointed to be put down at all.

Dave languishes back and shuts his eyes for a second. Partly because he's exhausted and partly because he doesn't want to have this conversation now or ever.]

Basically, what I know about him from the literal 2 intimate seconds we spent together is that he's big, he likes gas and he talks like a cheesy supervil- Ah, shit.

[He does not elaborate, he just starts up a coughing fit as the realisation hits.]

Fucking science guy.

[Weakly, with a hand over his mouth.]

[Connor settles on the couch next to Dave, already pulling out his phone to do some... gentle... stalking. He's from 2015, it's socially acceptable to stalk people over social media. Everything's public! He knows how to search, okay? If he can find it without much trouble, it's fair game.]

... So Mikhail Caustic?

[Who the fuck uses their actual, real name? On the network? Stranger danger???? Jesus H Christ, he should really offer digital security lessons for the unfortunate. Actually more importantly:]

Did you—you did this shit under your regular-ass username? There's an anonymous function, dipshit.

[ dirk is crouched by the couch when dave starts coughing and he briefly reaches out like he's going to touch him, pauses, and aborts midway.

it's a strange moment since he's been manhandling dave this entire time. ]

Do you need a fucking net nanny? At least troll people anonymously so this shit doesn't happen.

[ he sounds more frustrated than angry, like he's put off by the situation as a whole and not just dave. then he turns his head toward connor slightly, looking at him through the corners of his eyes instead of through the shades. ]

Send me his information. Not right this second, but once we get this sorted out.

[ what could he POSSIBLY want to do with that information. ]

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cw for some internalized homophobia lol

Cw for blood coughing

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