Hellion Rebellion

Your name is John Egbert.

You like magic, and tricking people, and really awesome movies, even though everyone says they're dumb.

Your best friends are Dave Strider, Rose Lalonde, Jade Harley, and Karkat Vantas.

You're twenty-one years old.

When you were thirteen, you played a really awesome video game that ended up giving you powers and everything, but through a series of some pretty sweet fights and awesomeness you guys all got out and reconstructed Earth and the universe. Let's not get into that right now.

You're in love with your best friend, Dave Strider.

You also made a lot of really bad choices in your later life, and your therapist – who's actually just Rose – says it's because the game scarred you.

Which is the beginning of a huge mess that you're now lodged in the middle of.

Currently, you're hanging out of the passenger window of an ice cream truck, holding a shitty gun and pointing it at a black car chasing you while Dave is holding you by your pants to make sure you stay in the car and shouting directions on how to shoot a gun at you, Rose is typing madly in her computer and trying to make sense of everything, and Jade is passed out in the back of the truck.

You honestly have no idea how the fuck you got here.

So while you're fumbling with the cockpit or whatever the fuck it's called, you try to remember how you got in this situation.

You guess it started last week, when Dave approached you in the first place.
It wasn't a good day. You actually got fired from your job for having too many calls from friends during the day. Also while you were texting one of your better friends, Vriska, she asked you out.

You have never had, do not, and never will have an interest in women.

You let her down politely, but she then admitted that she only wanted to get in your pants, and thus she would drop you as a friend. And here you thought you actually had friends. But no, the universe was just taking everything away from you.

You got into your apartment around three in the afternoon, and you flopped down onto your couch in exhaustion. But then, as you took a look around your small apartment, you noticed Dave leaning against the wall next to a window.

"Fuck!" You yelped, jumping slightly. "What are you doing here?"

He smirked. "You know. Just hangin'."

You sighed. "Okay then. It's… Been a few weeks, man."

Wrong. The last time you had talked to Dave had been two months, three weeks, and six days prior. Not that you had been counting or anything.

You glanced over him. He seemed a bit different. Still smooth as butter – that was a trait about him that would never change – but he was definitely… ruffled. His hair was longer, even though he liked to keep it at the same length – a small bit of OCD on his part – and it wasn't styled as much as it used to be. It flopped over his eye, and he had to brush it away every now and then. He was also a bit sunburned. The poor guy never could tan. It was either ghostly white or lobster red. That's why he didn't like being out in the sun – so how could he have gotten sunburned? (That's probably just you being over-analytical about him and what he's been doing lately.) He still had the same aura of complete and utter swag, and a coolness hung around him that was almost palpable.

And you were just. You. Dorky old you. John Egbert, who majored in biology and was always the science geek. You, who only had four friends to talk to until you were thirteen – and even then they were still long distance. During the game you maintained your geekiness until the end, and you kept it throughout high school and college. You still wore the same glasses, and had the same huge buck teeth. The seemed to only get bigger as you grew older.

He nodded. "Guess it has."

"What've you been up to?" You asked, standing up. You fixed your hair, hoping it looks somewhat nonchalant.

He shrugged. "Stuff," he replies, looking around. "You haven't changed. Not that I wanted you to. You're my best bro for a reason."

You couldn't help but be really flattered at that. C'mon, he was the coolest guy ever and he just called you his best bro. That's a good feeling.

"Uh. So why are you back? N-not that I'm complaining or anything! It's just… Been kinda long since I last saw you."

He looked at you. And his shades slid down his nose, revealing his ruby red, beautiful eyes. (He had always hated his eyes, which you never understood. They really were pretty.) His eyes were telling you something, and since you had always had a unique ability to read any emotion on his face despite his poker face, you could tell that he wanted something.

You felt a small pang in your heart that he only wanted to talk to you again because he was going to drain your resources again.

He did this from time to time. He'd drop in suddenly, grab some important thing from you and disappear again. He never told you why he wanted it, or what he did with it. But you always gave it to him, because he was your favorite person.

Rose sometimes told you to stop allowing him to step all over you, and that he was being an asshole. But you always shook your head and replied, "He's my best bro."

"What do you want this time? A car? Some money? I don't have much, Dave. I just got fired," you told him with a sigh. You were happy to help but he didn't have the best timing.

"I know."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean, you know?"

He smirked, and walked up to you. "I know you were fired. Tough break, bro. But hey, jobs don't last forever."

You gulped a bit as he looms over you. There had always been a rather noticeable height difference between the two of you, and sometimes he accidentally used it against you for intimidation purposes.

"Uh. So what are you here for?"

He pushed his shades up to conceal his eyes again. But the way the light was hitting his shades made them nearly transparent, and there was an odd look in Dave's eyes.

"Just needed my good bro. That such a crime?"

You nearly fainted.

He actually wanted to be with you. Just you. He didn't want anything material from you.
You blushed and nodded, grinning. "Of course! Stay as long as you want!"

If you had known what that meant, you're not sure you still would have said that.

---

That night, you woke up around two in the morning because of a nightmare. You sighed, knowing that you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, and got up. You were still in your pajamas – one of Dave's shirts you stole a long time ago and it was still big on you, and some shorts – which you deemed okay until the morning, grabbed your glasses and walked out to the living room.

There, Dave was on the couch, his computer on the coffee table. His shades were off, on the table between the laptop and a half-empty bottle of beer. His hands were moving fast, typing something intensely.

You stood there in the doorway, watching him for a few minutes. You were pretty sure you loved him. He had always been there for you, at every corner and every problem. He could read you like a book, and you him. He had helped you come out of the closet, and helped you cope through your first break up – you and Karkat were still good friends – and helped you study throughout college and a billion other things. He became your favorite person. And that friendly, platonic, easy love slowly evolved into real life, crying-over-him, heart-wrenching, deep love.

You found yourself grinning at the thought of him.

You wiped the look off your face and walked into the living room. "Morning," you croaked, your lips chapped and your throat dry.

He looked up at you, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his bright red eyes.

"You're up early."

"So are you."

"Don't be stupid, Egbert. You know I haven't even gone to bed yet."

You knew that. You could see it in his bloodshot eyes.

"S-sorry."

He shrugged it off, and you went into the adjoined kitchen to make some coffee. Suddenly there's a thud noise, and the snap of a laptop being forced shut. You rushed back in, eyes wide.

"What was that?" you cried.

He glances at you, and stands up, putting his shades on.

"We gotta get out of here."