Time Burns, Not Melts (Dave x Reader Sadstuck)

Coughing and eyes watering, Dave furiously glances around, trying to find his love. She's in here somewhere. This can't be the alpha timeline, which means that he's going to die soon. She's already dead.

He's the Knight of Time. He swore never to use his powers again. But he doesn't have a choice.

Let's take this back about five hours. Dave Strider, your wonderful boyfriend, has invited you over to his house for dinner. And yeah, because you know you're going to end up the one cooking, you know it'll be good. (Despite his insistence, he's only a decent cook; the best description his food is capable of is not poisoning you, unless it's something like an egg or a grilled cheese.) You've got a job at a local restaurant waiting tables, so basically, food is your deal.

And yes, the dinner is delicious. Dave is a bit reluctant to let you take charge, but once he sees what you're making, he's more than happy to take a backseat and help. Chicken Parmesan, with a nice spaghetti underneath.

After dinner, though, he insists that he make dessert. It's a caramel that'll be drizzled over some brownies you helped him make yesterday, which is simple enough that pretty much the only way he could mess it up is by letting it burn. Which is basically the reason you stay in the kitchen, to tell him when enough is enough. He gets it right without you needing to yell at him, though, which just makes you smile a whole lot.

Then comes the romantic snuggle-up-on-the-couch-for-a-scary-movie bit, you managing to knock some things over after the first five seconds of the film. Scary stuff does that to you, makes you nice and jumpy, but you watch it because Dave enjoys it, and because you both enjoy the way you hug him close.

Unfortunately, you're really tired from having stayed up until four this morning; Dave doesn't know you've fallen asleep, and so excuses himself to go outside and argue with John on the phone for a little bit. And then Karkat too, calling right after John hangs up. You, meanwhile, wake up just enough to crawl up to Dave's bedroom, where a much comfier place to sleep awaits you. Because, of course, a tired mind does not want to go look for her boyfriend.

Dave peeks in to see the couch empty; he knows where you've gone, but no way is he going to come near you while he's this pissed. He would probably wake you, plus the entire neighborhood, up. So he heads out for a walk around a couple of blocks.

When he comes back, his house is on fire.

Eyes widening and darting towards the door, Dave yanks it open, not caring that the hot metal burns his hand. Fire is swirling around the living room, up the stairs, to his bedroom. Flames lick at the bottom of his jeans as he rushes in, eyes tearing up behind his shades. The door slams shut in the background; he begins to cough as smoke fills his lungs, and in an instant, makes a choice.

Grabbing his spare turntables off the table, he flicks them around, sending him back in time to earlier that night. The red-eyed boy hasn't used these in so long, his aim is a little off, putting him further back than he wanted. So he has to flick forward again, but he knows he's too far, the fire is already started down in the living room, off a candle that (f/n) must have knocked over at the beginning of the movie. How did it go unnoticed?

But Dave still has time to save you. Racing up the stairs and scooping you up, he carries you carefully down the steps, kicking the door open so that he can set you outside on the cool summer grass. You're awake, staring at Dave as he makes his way back to the house; you want to shout his name, want to scream, but you're coughing and coughing and your head is spinning from all the smoke.

Just before he shuts the door, he turns back to look at you, the faintest smile on his face. And the tears that are falling are being eaten up by the heat of the fire, as though they had never existed in the first place. He's never been one to let you see him cry.

When the blond returns home from his walk, he sees you shivering outside as his house goes up in flames, the firefighters just beginning to arrive. Immediately, his calm pace turns into a full-out sprint, and he hugs you and pulls you away, asking if you're okay, what the hell happened, please tell him you're okay.

"I'm fine," you whisper, tears streaking clean lines on your soot-smeared face as you stare at the house, then back at Dave. "But y-you walked back into the house..."

Clearly concerned, Dave asks you for the story, and you explain it as best you can while firefighters wrap a blanket or two around you. He seems to understand, validating your theory that it was probably a doomed-timeline Dave who saved you.

And all the while, you can't stop crying. You can't shake the feeling that even though it wasn't your Dave who sacrificed himself to keep you safe, it should have been you who died in there.

***

Dave looks around, trying to find where you could possibly be. Don't tell him he went back in time for this, no, no, this can't be. It can't be that you die, that can't have been the alpha timeline, it's not possible! You're too important to die!

He falls to his knees, on the ground trying to avoid the smoke. Orange-yellow coats his clothing and he can't find it in him to care, the heat frying all thoughts and pain washing over every inch of him. Dave's eyes slip shut under his sunglasses and he mutters your name as a chant, the one thing to keep him sane before he dies.

But you're dead too.

The real Dave returns from his walk to firefighters putting his house out, the last flames in the bedrooms being smothered by the high-pressure water. He looks inquisitively at them, asking, "Where's my girlfriend?" The thought hasn't even crossed his mind that you might be dead.

One of them leads him to a body with a blanket overtop; the firefighter peels back the cloth to reveal a once-beautiful, now burnt and disfigured face. "Is this her? She's the only person we found in there."

"Yeah, that's her," Dave answers softly, seeing now that you're dead. After a moment of processing this, he grabs the firefighter's shoulder. "Why the fuck didn't you save her?"

"Sir, please let go," he says calmly, though he's a bit unnerved. "I'm very sorry you lost her, but I have a job to do."

"This is my house, and that's my girlfriend," Dave snarls. "Why didn't you save her, dammit?" He's severely tempted to punch the guy, but knows the helmet would get in the way.

The firefighter takes a deep breath, knowing what to do in these situations. He leads Dave over to the paramedic, who gives him a blanket and tells him to stay calm. The blond grabs his phone out of his pocket, bringing up Pesterchum, and texts his three friends all the same thing: