Healing Cartilage (A Davekat Fanfiction)

Sometimes Before It Gets Better - Prologue

The door splintered into fragments with an excruciating crash. Their hearts twisted, crunching. The stuffy, summer air around them was hot, humid. It wasn't the reason it was hard to breathe.

A toweringly tall yet recognizable man showed in an artificially lit hallway with his wild hair untamed and a confused look on his face. The orange lighting shaded his face in strange places. It made it near difficult to tell who he was. It wasn't the reason it was hard to look at him, but they didn't have time to deal with him.

A name was shouted once again besides the fact that the recognizable stranger attempted to object. He was struck back with force into the wall while the other continued into the depths of a small, shadowed apartment.

"TEREZI." The name echoed throughout the tight rooms with peeling graffiti replacing all paint on the walls."TEREZI."

It was repeated again.

And again.

And again.

Except, gradually more drastic.

The sounds of pounding music engulfed all oxygen. The beat shaking the very foundation of under our protagonist's feet. Sounds of protest coming from the stranger left behind in the hallway while another held him back were barely even heard. The music itself was barely heard by the desperately searching protagonist. The pounding of his heart in his head was enough of a beat as he threw himself forward into the last room. The last room she could possibly be in.

And surely.

She was.

A much smaller girl was lying on a crumbling carpeted floor, against shutter closeted doors; on top of loose plastic bags and paraphernalia; alongside a couple of needles and an empty water bottle.Her hair covered her eyes and much of the floor, but they were closed. Her skin could only be remembered as glowing in his memory, but now was covered in sweat. Only panic had stirred his actions but now sadness seeped under his skin.

No.

Karkat rushed forward. His clumsy fingers brushed back strands of her hair from her eyes and onto her forehead where they stuck there. No response. No breathing - potentially. Not waiting, he wrapped her arm about his neck, securing it with one hand. His other hand carried her at the waist. If he was stronger he would carry her in his arms – away from the trashy apartment and away from the recognizable stranger. If you were stronger, he told himself, you wouldn't be in this position.

Self loathing now accompanied the sadness. Rushing, struggling to carry her body, he eventually reached where the recognizable stranger was being barred off from reaching the girl by yet another protagonist of this story.

"DAVE." Karkat exclaimed, and the other protagonist swung around with eyes looking constantly more as though he had decided to take the wrong turn into a dark alleyway. He stared at the girl whom they knew – limp and dark in the lighting that reflected off of beads of sweat on her skin – except only for a moment before he swung around and struck the stranger's face. Gamzee fell back.

Dave went forward, taking Terezi in his arms – he was longer, leaner, and stronger than our other main character – before the pair hurriedly left the dump, attempting to make it down a series of stairs and reach a car waiting for them outside. Karkat's mouth was already relaying the story to emergency services.

Yet pounding sound still felt as though it overtook oxygen. The beat of a song still playing in the distance still shook the very foundation of the building. The floor beneath them still seemed to be crumbling. The walls were still peeling.

Terezi still wasn't moving.

She awoke in a small, white-walled room on a clean cotton bed, against tough paper-covered pillows; nothing but a mattress beneath her; alongside a small machine with colorful lines representing her being alive.

Both of her friends were there.

Both of them looked as though they had had little sleep.

The one closest to her – the one with messy dark hair and tanned skin – spoke first. "Consider this an intervention."