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Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you have always, always hated the color red. It’s the color that marked you as the scum of your own society, the color that forced you to be secretive with your friends, it’s the color that made you fear for your life each day when the blazing Alternian sun rose, and each night when it fell.
Well-- maybe you hadn’t always hated it. You certainly didn’t have a problem with it when you were first directing the construction of your hive, the whole thing was covered with scarlet hangings and tapestries. You’re not exactly sure why you put them there, but damn if you didn’t regret it. They made your eyes want to bleed-- but of course, if they did, you’d just see more of the wretched hue.
You’re not even sure what possessed your lusus to choose you from the brooding caverns after you’d miraculously made it through your trials. Maybe he was a freak too, you don’t know. It was kind of hard to hold a conversation with him, considering he was an actual fucking crab monster. Maybe he saw value in the fact that you’d made it through your trials at all-- they should have weeded you out as one of the weak ones, you were better off dead from the start. How a creature as worthless as you evaded getting culled was an even bigger miracle than you being alive in the first place.
You always wore oversized turtlenecks and sweatpants to cover as much of your skin as you could without seeming suspicious. You barely ever left your hive in the boonies either. When you’d started talking to Sollux, it was fascinating to hear about life in the city-- or it would’ve been if he’d of ever gotten off his lazy ass and gone outside to experience it.
Speaking of Sollux-- yeah, you had friends. But they were all over the internet, no way anyone can find out your blood color if they can’t even see you. All they had to work with was your hemoanonymous, dark gray text. Because that wasn’t suspicious or anything. You’d somehow managed to make friends all across the hemospectrum, from a girl that was almost as low as you, to someone that was destined to succeed your current empress, and lots of interesting characters in between-- the aforementioned Sollux, another low blood that kicked your ass at coding. He was the biggest asshole you’d ever met, he could go from insufferable to pitiful in two seconds flat. ...You hated that you looked up to him so much. Nonetheless-- he was probably your best friend.
Another among the fruity rumpus asshole parade was a blind teal-blood whose thirst for justice was only rivaled by her love of eating chalk. She had an odd affinity for dragging her tongue across her screen-- and most other things. Taste and smell was primarily how she made her way around; it was a new sort of sight she’d learned from dreams she’d shared with her lusus. She was terrifyingly good at mind tricks and manipulation, and she had an absolutely vicious ‘guilty until proven innocent’ mindset. She would not hesitate to let her victims-- er-- suspects-- hang. In her case, every member of her ‘court block’ took the form of a colorful, ridiculous stuffed dragon, with an equally as colorful, ridiculous name. Childish antics aside, one day, she would make a formidable legislacerator. She infuriated you more than words could begin to describe-- and it thrilled you to talk to her.
You suppose the indigo blood is worth mentioning as well, since he seemed to be convinced that you’re ‘bEsT mOtHeRfUcKiN fRiEnDs’, which you most definitely were not. But-- you kinda felt bad for the guy. He always sounded so hopeful about his lusus coming home, but after the sweep you’ve known him-- you were pretty much convinced that he’d spend the rest of his life shoving sopor slime pie and high-fructose shit water down his protein chute, waiting on the beach for a certain sea-goat lusus that would never come home. Despite how spacy, strange, and what a bad influence he probably was; he was one of the only optimists you knew. Sometimes it was nice to take a break from Sollux bitching about how much he hates himself when you knew you hated yourself more, and just listen to the high troll ramble. You could literally say anything to the guy and he wouldn’t give two shits.
And of course, there was Kanaya, the jade-blooded lusus in a troll’s body. She was probably the friend you got along with the best, even now. She was always there to listen to you when you would bitch about how much you hated everyone and everything. Even though you’d probably never admit it, she always found a way to give you a new perspective on things. She just-- made you feel better. For a while, you may have said you were waxing pale for her, but she’s such a pale slut it’s not even funny. It’s in her nature as a jade-blooded troll to care for everyone-- but still.
There’s a lot of others, but you mostly talked to these people. There was the olive blood that had the most massive and obvious flush-crush on you’d ever witnessed. You tried to be gentle with her-- but let’s be honest, you had a hard time being tactful with any of your words, to anybody. You don’t even know why she liked you, you were such an asshole to her. She deserved better.
There was her spectrum-obsessed overprotective moirail; the pompous royal blooded douchebag seadweller; the slightly more tolerable, but equally as condescending fuchsia heiress; the bronze bull with a bad stutter, next to zero self-confidence, and an unhealthy obsession with fiduspawn; his terrifying bully who could probably dominate the whole goddamn planet if she put her mind to it; and finally, the rust-blood overly infatuated with bones.
...You think that’s about it.
But none of that shit matters, because more than half of those fuckers are dead.
And it’s all your fault.
Apparently assuming Gamzee’s strength based only upon his calm demeanor was the biggest mistake you’d ever made-- how were you supposed to know how capricious and violent he’d get if he ran out of slime?!
In the end… only you, Terezi, Kanaya, and Gamzee himself had survived. And, well, Sollux kind of? You guess he’s only half dead? What the fuck ever, you never understood that bifurcated asshole’s deal. And Aradia came back from the dead as a God Tier at some point you guess.
You hadn’t paid enough attention to Makara-- and that turned out to not only unfair to him, but others as well. Of course, he wasn’t the only psycho murderer that you turned out to be close to-- but the others met their demises shortly after their unspeakable deeds. Well, with the notable exception of Kanaya. But she had motives, and she was only protecting those who were still alive. She would do what she had to keep her friends safe. She was different.
Everything had gone so tediously while you were hiding in the veil, pestering these new kids-- one in particular irked you, the one who covered its face with dark shades and ran around the land with lava and ticking timepieces. Terezi had watched that one a lot. You guess his name was Dave, she was constantly babbling at Vriska about him. That alone made your blood boil-- what did this moronic alien have that you didn’t, how had he gotten her attention so quickly?! You watched him yourself from time to time, trying to figure it out-- soon though, you had to switch tactics. Watching him gave you no information, the asshole took all the input the game threw at him and produced a grand total of zero output, he was smooth, flawless in all his actions-- he had to be, unless he wanted to fuck his timeline up.You ground your teeth as you watched. You couldn’t keep watching this. You tried telling him to back the fuck off, and he didn’t listen, all he did was taunt you for your embarrassing black advances on the other male alien, John.
No, diplomacy wouldn’t work with him. Instead, you began trolling the female you knew he was flushed for, oh yes, sweet, sweet vengeance-- though, it sorta backfired since Jade didn’t seem to like you all that much.
...Okay. So, maybe she hated you. No biggie. You think you’d earned her friendship by the end, at the very least. And by then, you were less concerned with romantic tension and much, much more concerned with keeping everyone alive.
Everything had been going just fine--well. Kind of, nobody seemed to take your leadership very seriously… and if you’re being honest with yourself the ‘no sleeping’ rule had kind of backfired. But, besides those things, everything had been fine... then shit went down. Gamzee went missing, Eridan snapped, blinded Sollux, killed his ex moirail and flush crush, and your best friend…
Gamzee started talking crazy when he finally messaged back…
You were so shellshocked you barely cared that the new kids would be arriving soon.
Their plan hadn’t quite gone as intended-- but you guess it worked out anyway? Whatthefuckever, you don’t even care about this goddamn game anymore. You just want it to be over.
You thought that only John had reached God Tier, but as the newcomers approach, you see the unmistakable vomit-inducing brightness of flouncy, flashy God Tier pajamas.
You immediately recognize Dave by his giant dark lenses and the pale tuft of hair sticking out of the front of his fucking hilariously tight hood. He’s dressed from head to foot in--
In.
Bright.
Fucking.
Red.
Great, just what you fucking needed, another goddamn reason to hate that fucking color! Growing up in a slum to avoid being killed simply for what color your blood was was bad enough. Having it be Terezi’s favorite was just sad, considering how badly you’d screwed up with her… and now this fucker has the audacity to show up in pure crimson asshole PJs. You want to punch him directly in his stupid face, but you knew this fucking freak had red blood too. You don’t need to see any more of that fucking hideous color-- and you think seeing any more blood would make you throw up. No more needed to be spilled today. Or ever again, you think.
Despite your reluctance to actually harm him-- you hate him. You hate him with every ounce of your being.
The first few weeks on the meteor are quiet. Quiet for everyone, as they get used to their new surroundings. Everyone pairs off and stays in separate corners of the meteor, you with Gamzee, and the others with their respective matesprits. You haven’t seen Terezi, Kanaya, Rose, or--
Hhh.
Dave--
--at all, since you had all settled in. You suppose people will open up more once they get over the shock of what just happened.
~~~
Another few weeks later, and everyone has sort’ve gotten acquainted, you got used to coming out of hiding long enough to have a meal together from time to time. You mostly try to stick by Kanaya and Terezi-- but both of them are preoccupied with their human matesprits. You know it was nothing against you, but… Gamzee could be a bit much to handle sometimes. Sure, you’re moirails, but he did kil-- he…
He’s done bad things.
Kanaya insists on eating breakfast all together in the mornings, to encourage union and minimize loneliness or depression. You can’t convince Gamzee to eat with everyone, and maybe that’s for the best. Kanaya is sort of out for his blood…
Eating breakfast together was a nice thought, but you always dread it… every fucking morning, you witness Terezi sitting in Dave lap and feeding him bites of cereal, licking his stupid, pale-as-fuck, freckled face. Of course she loves him, he’s dressed head to toe in that godawful color they seem to share a disgusting, overkill affinity for. Ugh, just seeing them standing near each other is enough to make you almost nauseous with rage. Even worse-- Dave seems to think there is nothing funnier in the universe than you expressing your opinions. You just don’t understand-- he’s such a fucking douche, he thinks he’s better than everyone else, you could fucking see it in those subtle, tiny grins he chances from time to time. You could give her so, so much better, you are completely sure of it!! What does she see in him?? You’ve known her for sweeps, did you seriously fuck up so badly with her that she’d rather take a matesprit of a revolting, alien species, who all share the same freakish blood color, and don’t even have horns? They have these completely unnerving eyes too… white, with a circle of a bright color around a beady, black pupil. Rose’s are a sort of… purple color? She told you they were light brown, but you swear otherwise. You have no idea what color Dave’s are, he never takes off those goddamn shades. Sometimes when you get lost in thought, your mind wanders over the possibilities of what color they could be. Try as you might to somehow telepathically receive the answer from the horrorterrors of the furthest ring, you still have no idea. How could you? What lays behind those infuriating dark lenses is just as unknown as Dave himself.
And boy, is Dave unknown. He’s such a wildcard, an x with no equation. His face is blank all the time. It’s almost as if he’s wearing a mask everywhere he goes… but it’s impossible to tell. You want to say that he has his shields up, that he’s guarded, but it seems so.. Effortless for him. It’s almost like he was a machine… cold, emotionless. He certainly doesn’t act like he has emotions. It was impressive… honestly you envied him for it, as embarrassing as it is to admit. For the life of you, you cannot guess what is going on in that pale-haired excuse for an organism’s head.
~~~
After suffering through a couple weeks of Terezi and dickbag getting closer and closer, you finally decide to try and talk to Gamzee about your woes. Surely your he would have some grade A advice, considering how he’d gone about kissing his flush crush for the first time.
...yeah, maybe he wasn’t exactly the romantic or sensitive type. But he is your moirail, and he will at the very least hear what you had to say.
You explain your predicament while he holds you, ranting about how much you’ve done for Terezi’s sake, how you’ve done everything you could for her, how you would do anything for her… you tell him stories of how you’d once sent her flowers and a jar of her favorite grub sauce in the mail, and reminisce about the play arguments you had. How some of them had escalated, and how infuriating and enthralling it had been, dance through memories of staying up all night just talking to her on video chat, being open and honest about your feelings, how it made you warm and fuzzy inside. How you felt this fire in your chest when she’s mentioned, how you really feel a connection, like a little red string is connecting your pinkie with her’s. You feel a variety of stirrings in your heart as you talk… and you realize as you went on that… yeah, you really had fucked up with her, hadn’t you? You’ve sent her a plethora of mixed signals. Red, black, red, black, pale, black, red, ashen, pale, red-- the fuck did you want from her?? You don’t even know, now that you’re thinking about it…
There’s no stopping the tears when they come to your eyes. What the fuck? You’re so confused and hurt and you don’t know what to think of any of it… all you know is you really, really hate that crimson-clad alien who had the gall to seal your fate. You bet Terezi hates you now.
Gamzee rocks you back and forth slowly, shooshing you and papping your head and your face. It doesn’t do shit to calm you down. Well sure, your breathing slows and your heart rate comes back down, but your head is still spinning with all these feelings mixing and mingling, card suits flying every which way until the colors mixed together and became a dull, murky mahogany shade in an unrecognizable shape.
He holds you until you fall asleep.
~~~
You don’t go to breakfast the next morning. You don’t care what Kanaya has to say about it, you aren’t going to put yourself through seeing them after the emotional breakdown you’d had last night. You sleep on and off for most of the day, snuggling with Gamzee. Occasionally you start crying purely just from remaining emotions. He shooshes you, asks you if you’re sure you don’t want to go out for food or water. He apologizes for being unable to cater for you, and offers you some ‘wicked elixir’. You tell him no matter how upset you are, you’d never resort to that fizzy shit water. You are unbearably thirsty and your head is pounding in rhythm with your heart, ticking by the seconds. They aren’t going by fast enough.
When your voice sounds dry and cracked with every sentence, Gamzee shoves a bottle of faygo into your hand, which you set aside. You tell him you’ll just go back to your room, and that you need some time to think about some things. He asks you if you’re sure. You assure him you are quite sure, before you crawl back through the vents, ending up in a hallway that happened to be close to the room you’d claimed as your own a while ago.
You punch the code into your key lock and push the button, and your door opens with a small whoosh. It’s completely silent, aside from the sound of the ventilation humming throughout the meteor, keeping it temperate. You are so sick of living here. You’ve been here for so long already, and now you are going to be here for what… another three human years? You went stir crazy after about a week last time.
You wonder if you’ll make it out alive and with your wits.
~~~
Your name is Dave Strider, and you just woke up in a cold sweat for the third time this week.
You sit up with a sigh and try to calm your pounding heart; guess these nightmares aren’t going away anytime soon then. That’s fine. Just another morsel to add to your already heaping plate of bullshit-- probably shouldn’t have filled up on bread before this meal, because you have 3 more courses and this is just the appetizer.
Unpleasant memories of watching your friends make timeline altering mistakes, often resulting in their deaths, are still clouding your brain. You run your hands through your hair-- you could use a shower. Yeah, yeah a shower sounded good.
You roll out of bed and navigate your hell hole of a room-- which you’ve made look as much like your old room as possible. Same card suit bedsheets, same desk propped up on cinder blocks, same old turntables and mixing equipment, wires coiling and hissing like snakes under your desk. Rose told you that shit was a fire hazard, but you’d had the same set up for almost 13 years, and you’ve never had a fire.
You pull off your god tier and throw it on the floor of the bathroom, starting the water in your tiny shower. You’re too impatient to wait for it to heat up and step in right away, letting the brisk water wash over your back. It’s not cold enough to make you recoil-- just enough to wake you up from your stupor. You just stand there and think a while-- you catch yourself talking to yourself once or twice too. Shit-- better not let that become a habit.
You step out after a bit and towel off, pulling your cozy crimson PJs back on to warm up.
Red has always been your favorite color, since you were a little kid. You guess it started with a fascination with fire trucks-- what little boy didn’t love fire trucks. Your love of the hue grew over the years as you accumulated fond memories of it, without you even noticing. The fiery Houston skyline as the sun set over the jungle of skyscrapers-- you could see a lot of the city from the roof of your apartment, which was only one staircase away. Your eyes were that color too-- strikingly scarlet against the snowy backdrop of your skin. You’d always worn eye protection, not at first to hide them from people, but because they were so sensitive to light that you’d go temporarily blind if you looked at an LED light bulb too long. Of course, just wearing shades inside at school got people talking-- rumors and oddball theories as to why you wore them. Eventually they slipped off during recess and when one kid saw what lay beneath, you earned nicknames like ‘demon’ and ‘satan’ for a while. You’d never been a social butterfly growing up-- and that certainly didn’t help you make any friends.
That’s all besides the point though-- you’d chosen the color for your text when you’d gotten yourself a pesterchum-- and your first and only friends. Late night chats with John, Jade, and Rose were a welcome respite from the tortuously long hours at school. It kinda became your thing, people associate you with that color. Dave Strider=Red. It became a fact of life to you-- you never even thought about it beyond knowing it was your favorite.
Terezi really seems to appreciate it too-- she often says things like she ‘can’t wait to taste your cherry red’-- which sounds really fucking dirty to you, but you can’t figure out if it is or not. You have no idea what trolls have in their pants-- you’re not exactly sure you want to find out. Just yet anyway-- fuck man, you’re 14, you’re not especially worried about losing your virginity at the moment. You push the thought away for now-- but then memories of your nightmare eagerly rush forth to replace it.
You take a deep breath and go to flop down on your bed and turn on the light-- maybe it’s childish to fear the dark, but then again, maybe it isn’t. Sure it’s often kids that are afraid of the dark, their overactive imaginations creating monsters under their beds and skeletons in their closets-- but you don’t need your imagination to create horrific imagery to paint the blackness, you’ve seen it yourself before. While you are almost certain the shambling, bleeding corpse of John isn’t gonna show up on the floor, you’d prefer not to give your brain the opportunity to fill in the blank.
You lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to get back to sleep.
No luck. Of course not.
The shitty little alarm clock you alchemized (and never listen to) displays 3:04 AM. You kinda wish you had some company-- that might mean admitting to the nightmare though-- nah, fuck that. You’ll just take a walk.
You slip on some black slippers (everybody shut the fuck up, slippers are goddamn comfy), and head out into the hallway. Shit, the hallway is kinda spooky at night. Or, what you assume to be night anyway, it’s hard to tell when there’s no celestial bodies to clear up the confusion-- so you just go by the clocks Rose and Kanaya set, and by when they turn the lights off.
It’s pretty dark, but there’s enough light to see by. You walk down the hallway, past Karkat’s room. You pause by the door-- he hadn’t showed up to breakfast, or, at all, yesterday. Sure, the guy’s obnoxious, and you’re not particularly fond of him-- but you can’t help but wonder if he’d eaten at all, and where he’d been. You assume with his juggalo pseudo-boyfriend. He’s probably fine… but if he doesn’t show up to breakfast tomorrow, you think maybe you should ask Kanaya to check on him if she doesn’t think to on her own.
Anyway.
You keep walking down the hallway, which went on much longer than you’d first thought. Your footsteps bounce and rebound eerily off the walls, making it sound like you aren’t alone. You even look over your shoulder a few times to make sure nobody was there… somehow it made you more paranoid to see you aren’t being followed. Shit, that’s creepy. Your brain helpfully reminds you of Earth’s lovely selection of horror movies-- nopenopenope, goddammit, time to head back.
You turn to leave when you hear a noise that makes you jump out of your skin-- a girly scream. Well, was it a scream? No, it was more like a….
..a moan.
Oh, ew, Rose and Kanaya are probably having sloppy makeouts in some forgotten corner. Even more nope, better start hauling ass--
But that’s when you hear another moan that makes your skin crawl and ice climb through your veins--
...a guy’s moan.
Oh fuck no, Rose and Kanaya are super gay, and super devoted… you listen for a moment.
...that was Terezi’s voice…
...she was…
...cheating on you..?
You start shaking-- the chill you’d caught when you first heard the noise turns to a molten rage, slugging dangerously hot through your stomach. You take a breath and your exhale feels like fire, like your lungs are filled with noxious gas. Sure you haven’t been together more than a few weeks-- but, you’d talked about this, you’d asked her if she still had feelings left for Vantas, and she’d told you no.
She… lied to you.
...and you’d kind of thought Karkat was above this kinda behaviour…
...you guess you were wrong.
On the outside you probably looked completely collected, despite the raw contempt gnawing at your skin-- aside from your slightly flushed cheeks and your balled fists.
You follow the godawful noises that echo through the hall to a large, mostly empty room… you see two figures kissing passionately, growling a little, in the ridiculous pile of oversized juggalo horns that you typically tried to avoid-- what is it with trolls and piles of garbage?
You lift your shades so you can actually see enough to confirm your suspicions; Terezi was cheating on you with Kar--
With Gamzee.
….what the fuck.
You’re so shocked you don’t know what to do-- all feelings of anger leave to be replaced with utter confusion. ...why? She’s choosing him of all people..? The clown murderer..?? If you hadn’t been substantial or she’d felt like something wasn’t working out, she could have just told you… she didn’t have to go making out with a serial killer. Oh god, your girlfriend chose a serial killer over you… are you really that bad at kissing?
You leave before the writhing couple can see you, silently slinking back into the shadows.
Your brain is too busy chewing on these developments to bring up ‘The Conjuring’ or ‘Annabelle’ again.
When you get to your room, you type in your password and hit the button so hard you’re surprised you don’t break it.
You threw yourself down in bed and covered your head with your blanket.
...this has to be the worst night you’d had so far.
~~~
Gamzee talks you into going to breakfast this morning-- you protest of course, that you didn’t want to see Dave and Terezi sucking face at the table like they always did. He insists you at least go and get some food to bring back to your room, and let people know you aren’t sick. You begrudgingly admit that he has a point-- and you’re kind of starving, as evidenced by the way your stomach howls when you think of Kanaya’s cooking.
As you brush your teeth, you try not to think about them. Terezi will be sitting in his lap like always. He’ll have his hands on her waist under the table… you growl and push the thought away-- it was too repulsive for you to handle.
You force yourself to walk out to the common area, eyes scathingly raking over the occupants.
...no familiar red pajamas…
Dave hadn’t come.
You shrug it off and chalk it up to him oversleeping, which he sometimes did. Terezi was talking to a giggling Rose, who seemed much more relaxed than usual. Without him here, you figure you might as well stay and chat-- after all, you’ve only really had a real conversation with Gamzee, and sometimes Kanaya, this whole time. Mostly you just yell at people-- nothing seems to get through to them if you don’t.
Kanaya put a plate of hot food in front of you, running a hand over your shoulder. She asks “How are you feeling?” You grumble “Fine,” like a pathetic, overdramatic wriggler and dig in.
You manage to hold a conversation with Kanaya for a bit, dodging her questions of whether or not you’d eaten yesterday and if you’d spoken to Gamzee about what was bothering you. You insist that nothing is bothering you and that she needed to shut her protein shoot before you stuff it full of that weird human tube meat Rose has barely touched, which just made her shake her head and drop the conversation completely. Way to go, she was just trying to help, asshole.
Dave still hasn’t shown up. Terezi starts to ask about him, which makes the back of your neck prickle with annoyance. His mention was making it hard to forget that he existed. You tell her he’s probably getting himself off in his room like the lonely fuckwitt he is before you can stop yourself. She growled and exclaimed loudly that you’d been acting awful to both her and Dave since the start of the trip, and that she’d been trying to be mature about it. She accuses you of sanctioning yourself off with your moirail like a wriggler, and tells you that maybe, just maybe, Gamzee didn’t feel like putting up with your bullshit all the time. You raise your voice in defense. Kanaya, of course, tries to mediate, but you stomp off in a rage before she can force you to try and talk things out.
Dave pokes his head out into the hallway to see what the commotion was about.
“Hey, did I miss one of your meteor-famous shitfits?” You give him the dirtiest look you can muster and snarl at him.
“Y'know, this is all your fucking fault.”
“Oh? Enlighten me.” Dave says with a smug grin. Hot rage bubbles up inside you.
“Where do I even begin?!” You explode. “You’re a complete eccentric asshole, who finds it humorous to provoke others like some kind of human catalyst in a revolting biochemical response to your horrific speech. You’re so excruciatingly obnoxious that I would rather jump off of the edge of the meteor than stand any closer to you than I am right now, and fly off into space while playing an atrociously loud pair of crash symbols just to make sure I drown out the never ending flow of vile word-diarrhea that you insist projectile vomiting all over everyone’s shoes. Nobody wants to hear that senseless bullshit you arrogant, repugnant dunderfuck! Why won’t you take a hint?!”
“I feel like it’s probably just you who has such a problem with me talking.” He said in an infuriatingly even voice. “I think that people do have a problem with you throwing bitchfits every goddamn minute, though, as hilarious and entertaining as they are. I don’t think any pair of crash symbols in paradox space could possibly dream of drowning out something as catastrophically emphatic as you.”
“I only throw bitchfits because you instigate them, you loathsome shitstain! In fact I have it on good authority that you do it on purpose! You literally just fucking admitted to finding it funny, GOD, YOU’RE UNBELIEVABLE!!!” You reach a new decibel of volume. “And at least when I throw my ‘bitchfits’, I actually say something with fucking substance!”
“Sounds like hot air to me--” Dave was about to counter, but ohhhh no, you aren’t nearly finished filleting his sorry ass.
“OH WHAT I’M SAYING SOUNDS LIKE HOT AIR??!!” You spit, tone venomous. “WHAT ABOUT YOU. YOU NEVER SAY ANYTHING WORTHWHILE!! LITERALLY EVERYTHING YOU SAY IS GRADE A BULLSHIT THAT MAKES ABOUT AS MUCH SENSE AS A WRIGGLER’S INANE NEWHATCHED BABBLES! God, you’re not impressing anyone with those jokes or lengthy metaphors, everyone knows you’re an ingenuine son of a bitch who’s too insecure to actually just express himself like a normal person! At least I’m fucking honest!”
Dave, miraculously, went quiet for a moment. You smirk; you had cracked his composure, finally, opened a tiny fissure in his facade. It was hard to tell through those pursed lips and that neutral expression, but his silence speaks a thousand words.
“You’re so jealous.” He says. You decide to ignore the comment about jealousy altogether and instead focus on the nerve you’d struck, opening your fiery maw to retaliate.
“Too cool to show them, huh? Too cool for your feelings?” You spit, feeling your confidence rise. You’re getting to him. Dave remains quiet, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. You grow impatient-- where is his reaction? God, you want to see him crumble. “I bet you don’t even have real feelings, do you, ‘cool kid’?” Your voice grows louder, harsher. Still nothing. You almost hysterically grope around in your extensive vocabulary for something to say to get something out of him, feeling heat rise in your body. “I bet you just have it so easy! It’s so EASY to be a moronic toolbag and faine confidence, when you’ve had such a cushy existence on a planet that doesn’t want you dead!! Every fucking day Strider, I had to struggle to feed myself, and to avoid getting fucking killed!! Did you ever have to do that?! SOME OF THE REST OF US ACTUALLY HAVE EMOTIONS AND PROBLEMS TO DEAL WITH!! HAHA, IMAGINE THAT, A WORLD THAT DOESN’T REVOLVE AROUND DAVE STRIDER!! IF YOU’RE SO COOL AND FINE ALL THE TIME, WHY DON'T YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP, STOP TAKING UP ALL THE AIRWAVES WITH YOUR BULLSHIT, AND LET THE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY HAVE IMPORTANT SHIT TO SAY TALK!!!” Silence follows, you’re panting a little, trembling with adrenaline. You feel a surge of pride, triumphant when Strider says nothing back. That victorious feeling only lasts but a few fleeting seconds, before Dave retreats back into room and shuts his door.
“Dave--” your stomach drops and your blood feels like it’s frozen.
...you hear the door lock. Shit.
“Dave!!” You pound on the door. No answer.
...Fucking fuck.
First you yelled at Kanaya for just making sure you were okay. Then you yelled at Terezi because she rightfully called you out for being an asshole. And now you’re yelling at Dave, what-- because he’s a private guy? Because he’s right, and you’re jealous? Jealous of his ability to keep his composure, jealous because he has what you don’t; a relationship with Terezi? Because you’re being completely immature?
No wonder everyone hates you.
You don’t tell Gamzee about what happened, just to prove Terezi wrong about the whole codependence thing. You can handle this yourself.
...you also don’t tell him, because as much as you hate to admit it… you’re afraid she might be right about him not necessarily wanting to coddle you every time something in your pathetic little life doesn’t go your way.
~~~
Fuck him-- just because you don’t tell everyone ‘hey, I’m struggling, help me!’ like he does doesn’t mean you don’t have problems too. The guy’s just jealous, and he’s letting it turn him into a bitter douchebag.
You have problems. You do. But you’re strong. You’re strong because you don’t tell anyone. You’re strong because you don’t need help. Not from anyone. Especially not from Terezi.
Who you need to be having a conversation with, right about now. With a grunt, you get up, you tell yourself your emotions definitely aren’t raw, that Karkat was just being an asshole, that it didn’t get to you at all-- and you leave your room once you’re sure Karkat had thundered all the way to his.
“Terezi.” You poke your head out into the common area, where she, Rose and Kanaya were sitting, still a bit shocked from witnessing your argument with Karkat.
“Dave..” She said. “I didn’t know he’d--”
“It’s fine. I don’t care about that, he yells at me all the time. That’s not what I want to talk to you about.” She looks a bit confused. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about. You sigh quietly through your nose… you detect no flicker of fear, no guilt-- only confusion. She really doesn’t care about you at all, does she? “Come on.” You say evenly, turning and walking down the hallway, confident she’d follow. You shove your hands into your pockets, even though you know she can’t see the way you’d balled up your fists anyway.
“Are you mad?” She asks quietly. You don’t answer. You don’t want to have this conversation in the hallway like the one you’d just had with Mr. Shouty. “...Is this because of Karkat?” You don’t answer. “Did I do something?”
“Hold on a second, Terezi.” You say quietly. You sound more serious than you’ve heard yourself in a while. She goes quiet, and you leave her questions to spin around her mind. Some part of you wants to give her a small taste of how you’d felt last night, when you found them kissing, shrouded in darkness and surrounded by ridiculous clown horns.
Soon enough you open your door and walk inside, trusting she’d follow you. She did, and she closes the door behind her.
“Dave, what is going on?” She asks. The confusion and fear in her voice doesn’t phase you, not with the contempt clogging your senses.
“How long has it been.” you ask quietly, still facing the back of your room.
“What..?”
“I said, how long has it been.” You turn around to face her, voice still even. You search her face for guilt, for regret, for a look of apology. You find nothing. You pretend you don’t feel the way your heart squeezes, the way your stomach seems to shrink.
“I… I’m sorry.”
“You don’t know what you’re sorry for.” You sigh, sitting on the edge of your bed. You resist the urge to hide your face in your hands. You thought she’d cared about you. You thought you had connected with her, and that she’d connected with you. You thought that maybe, for once, you had someone you might be able to talk to one day. You thought you were enough for her. You thought she liked you back.
Your chest hurts.
There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence.
“I guess I don’t..” she said, coming to sit next to you. She tried to smooth her hand over your chest, and you pushed her away. “Dave--” she said. “What did I do.” She sounded like she genuinely wanted to know. You couldn’t resist the moment.
You tell her everything you saw. You tell her that you heard them, having their affair in the darkness.
To your horror, she looked even more confused. At least, now, there was some guilt there too.
You are given a lengthy ‘introduction to quadrants 101’. The key thing that you hadn’t know before was that trolls were okay with having more than one partner at once, just in different quadrants. You really wish someone would have told you sooner-- because that wasn’t something you were okay with. Like, trolls can do whatever the fuck they want-- Terezi can do whatever makes her happy-- but you don’t think you can deal with knowing you aren’t the only one Terezi is kissing-- especially when the other guy is a psycho murder clown, who you’re pretty sure hates you. Gamzee aside… knowing she had someone else, despite knowing it’s not out of malice or because she doesn’t like you-- it just makes you feel like you aren’t good enough.
You explain this to her, though focus mainly on the objective portions; you were never one much for talking about your feelings.
She desperately tries to explain that you’ve been amazing to her, that of course you were enough--
You give her the human explanation of romance, explain that in general, humans have just one partner and that it is considered uncool to have another without telling them. You explain that’s why you were upset… and that if she continues to hate-date Gamzee, you don’t think things with her will work out.
She bites her lip and nods.
There’s another instance of uncomfortable silence.
You explain that it’s okay if she wants to keep Gamzee and not him, and that she should do what makes her happy.
After some discussion, you decide to make the decision easier for her, and tell her that you don’t want to date anymore. You’d feel horrible restricting her from other relationships in other quadrants, now, and in the future. If quadrants and multiple partners are what is going to make her happy-- then so be it. You’re a human, she’s a troll; you suppose you have different needs, different ideals, different cultures and expectations. You just don’t foresee things working out long-term.
She agreed when you told her.
You ask why she hadn’t told you about Gamzee sooner. Ask why she kept it a secret when she could have just explained quadrants when Gamzee became her kismesis.
She bites her lip guiltily-- and to your surprise, she says it’s because of Karkat.
Gamzee and Karkat are moirails. You knew that. Gamzee and Terezi are kismesis. You know that now.
What you failed to consider was the serrated, angry jealousy that Karkat held at your throat like a dagger for having a relationship with her. And now that she’s explaining it… it became obvious why she’d kept it a secret.
Karkat’s best friend is lying to him, and has a relationship with the troll he’s flushed for behind his back. You might be new to quadrants… but you knew enough to know that this whole situation is messy and complicated and there’s a lot of risk for hurt feelings. You’re tempted to tell Karkat what’s going on… but then Terezi begs you not to.
Karkat hates you anyway-- he wouldn’t take it well from you. You decide to distance yourself from this mess as much as you can.
~~~
You stay in your room for the next few days. You don’t feel like facing everyone at breakfast, you instead opt to use the foodstore you had in your cloest so you don’t have to see anyone for a while. You don’t want to see the smug look on Karkat’s face, you don’t want to hear him taunting you with ‘oh, so you do feel things! Not so cool now, huh?’. You’re sure that’s what he would say to you.
You don’t want to see Terezi right now, for obvious reasons. You don’t want Kanaya to dote on you and make you feel like a child. You don’t want Rose to ask if you need to talk. It’s not like you can be honest with any of them now anyway, with Terezi and Gamzee’s relationship a secret.
You just want to be alone, and let yourself feel these things without worrying what other people will say or think.
The next few weeks drag on longer than the Texan summer droughts. You write some raps. You get into writing poetry that you vow you will never show anyone. You list words that rhyme until you feel brain dead and you’ve nearly filled a 70 page notebook. You half-heartedly mix with your old sound equipment.
In the end you always just put on your old Beatles record and lay in bed. You slowly begin to realize that… without Terezi, you don’t really have any other friends. Well-- of course Rose is your friend, she always has been. But she’s been preoccupied with Kanaya ever since the start of the trip-- she didn’t have the time to talk to you. Kanaya was nice enough-- but it was the same deal. You didn’t feel like talking to Terezi, and even so you’d soon enough find that after the break up, she spends more and more time stealing away in the vents.
And Karkat hates you. So that’s that.
You write. A lot. You update your comic despite your entire audience being dead. You make music-- some of it shitty, some of it serious. While you enjoy it, you find it makes you lonely when you can’t make someone listen to it. You find your old camera in your sylladex and take some pictures, and hang them from your ceiling to make it feel more like home.
You use chalk the mayor lent you to draw a window on your concrete wall, do your best to remember what Houston looked like outside the glass, color the sky in red and orange. You aren’t the best artist, but you like it. It makes it sorta feel like you’re just sitting in your room. Like you can close your eyes and pretend you can hear the traffic outside.
After only a couple days, you start to feel tension in your chest, you jump at normal sounds the meteor made, stray beeps and randomly expanding metal from the ventilation system.
You stare at the wall and pretend you’re looking out the window. You decide it’s pathetic to hold onto the past like this, and put a poster over your drawing. You decide to just try to forget about Houston; you didn’t really feel any less lonely there than you do here.
~~~
Dave and Terezi both stopped showing up to breakfast all together after that day. You completely blame yourself. God, you shouldn’t have been such an asshole to them… Dave in particular. He hadn’t done anything really wrong… you just let your jealousy get in the way, blind you with anger. The longer you let the injustice of your actions sit in your stomach, the sicker you feel, the more disappointed in yourself you are. Not only that… Dave is what makes Terezi happy, not you. And that sucks and it feels like a knife in your heart, but if it’s what makes her happy, then you decide that you should at least respect that.
You decide on your own that you probably owe them both an apology-- it’s going to be really hard to swallow your pride and do it, but you knew what you did was really shitty. And, without breakfast with everyone, you’ve been pretty lonely. Maybe making amends with a couple people would help you get out of your slump, or at the very least put your conscious at ease.
You want to ask Gamzee for advice about it… but lately he’s been increasingly absent. He wasn’t there when you wriggled through the vents to see him the past two times. His sightings are becoming sporadic.
You found yourself going crazy without the company of your moirail. You suppose Terezi was right; he probably was sick of you. Days stretched out and blurred together wordlessly, silently. You read the same books, over and over, search for new ones stashed away in back hallways. You go on walks. You find Nepeta’s old shipping wall. You heart feels like it’s filled with shrapnel when you find the drawing of you and her.
The loneliness was driving you out of your pan; it was time to try to reach out, even if it meant damaging your pride. Enough procrastinating; you couldn’t handle another day of forlorn walks and regrets that sat in your chest like stones.
You decide to start with Terezi-- you thought she would at least hold a civil conversation with you.
You pace outside her door for a while, taking deep breaths, collecting yourself, repeating what you planned to say to her over and over in your head;
‘I’m sorry.’ That’s a good start…
You finally work up the nerve to knock on her door. Knock knock knock.
...no answer. You try again. Again, no answer.
“Terezi, I’m sorry,” You say from outside the door. “Please open the door…” Still, no answer. Either she’s ignoring you, or she’s not there. Oh God, she might be with Dave. You sigh. You were an asshole to them both 24/7; your retribution has come. You decide bringing a peace offering might help things, and go to the common area to get some plates of hot food, just in case they hadn’t gotten a good meal since they stopped coming out to the common area.
You check cantown with no luck; you guess they have to be in Dave’s room.
Soon, you’re outside Dave’s door; your stomach squeezes unpleasantly, you consider leaving. After some debating, you realize that you have nothing else to do, and if you leave, you’ll just go back and repeat the same cycle of loneliness, guilt, and need for resolution. Ultimately, you know you’d wind up here again. Armed with that knowledge, you knock on the door.
No answer. “Dave? Terezi? Are you guys in there?” No answer still. You feel your heart sink. They could be somewhere else… but you had a bad feeling that they were just ignoring you. “Hello?” You try. “Look, I’m not here to be an asshole. I’m here to apologize. I was really awful to you both. I shouldn’t have been so immature about everything. I just wanna talk things out. I know that you both are probably thinking ‘hah, that asshole missed his chance’.” You feel your throat get tight and your eyes sting. No, don’t cry, especially not in front of Dave-- but the thought of them genuinely ignoring you, of having to saunter off back to your room with your two plates of leftover grubloaf from last night’s dinner to eat by yourself-- of continuing to search for Gamzee when you had a feeling he wouldn’t come back for a long time, if at all-- of being all by yourself, with no one… your mistakes on repeat eternally in your head until the three years were up… you couldn’t stand it. “W-well, you’re right. I did miss my chance. I missed a lot of chances. I-- I know I had a lot of chances. I know. I was just being a dense, bitter dunderfuck who’s head was too full of fucking sand to notice that me being a little bitch about everything wasn’t helping anything at all. All it did was make me, and you guys, feel shitty.” Your voice cracked, and you took a deep breath. Your knees were shaking. “I just want to say I’m sorry. I brought you guys lunch.” You offer weakly.
No answer.
Tears start pouring down your face. You set the plates down on the floor and wipe your cheeks on your sleeve.
“I-- I understand, I really do. I know, I was a fucking asshole.” You feel a sob escape your throat. Shit. You wait a second, sitting down on the floor, trying to stop crying.
You decide after about ten minutes that it’s time to go.
“Well… I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I-I’ll leave the food here. If you wanna talk, y-you both know where to find me, s-so…” you sniffle and wipe your face. “I guess I’ll leave you alone now. I’m sorry.”
This is your penance. You think. You deserve to be ignored.
That’s when the door whooshed open, before you even had time to get up.
~~~
Holy shit, how long has he been sitting on the floor like that, you think to yourself. Holy shit, how long has he been crying??
“Uh… dude.” You start awkwardly. You were never very good at this stuff; you aren’t sure what to do. The small troll stands up and puffs out his chest, looking angry through the sheen of tears on his round cheeks. You knew a tirade was coming.
“So you just left me out in the hallway to scream my soap opera to your closed door and decided not to let me in til the very last second?!” He yells-- but this was a different kind of yell than you were used to. There’s no malice in his voice; there is only hurt. Real, raw feelings. You are taken aback.
“I--” you say, confused. Shit, you had your noise cancelling headphones on-- you hadn’t heard a word of whatever ‘soap opera’ he’s on about. You suddenly feel suffocated, queasy, and claustrophobic like your limbs are being tugged at by puppet strings. “I’m sorry.” You manage thickly, throat sticky with guilt.
“...that’s it?!” he snarls. “God, I came with an olive branch and you threw it into a goddamn wood chipper, and added insult to injury by driving the splinters into my fucking ocular globes-- And I thought I was an asshole! Apparently you’re just as bad, if not worse. At least I apologize properly when I know I’ve done something shitty!”
“I’m sorry, okay!?” You snip, some inflection coloring your voice as regret rises in your chest and makes you defensive. Karkat looks shocked; you suppose you’ve never sounded like that around him. He just stares at you, intrigued. He’s short, slightly pudgy under his thick turtleneck sweater. He has round cheeks that are still glistening with pink tears, dark hair that sticks out in every direction, and a heavy brow that always makes him look like he’s irritated, or at least, concentrated. His intense, searching gaze was now on you, for the first time seeming to attempt to look past the top layers of yourself you present. It feels like an x-ray, almost invasive.
It makes you uncomfortable.
“I had my headphones on, dumbfuck, I couldn’t hear you.” You finally say, just to break the silence. Karkat’s face morphs into surprise, his cheeks going red.
“God, I’m such a--” he goes off on some rant about how horrible he is, but you’re hardly listening. This is a different side of him, one you haven’t seen before. The way he stopped, the way he listened to you when you let some frustration slip through the cracks-- the way he stopped, and looked at you, not like an enemy, but like you were a person, with feelings, despite what he said to you before. You didn’t see an ounce of judgement on his face; only intrigue-- dare you say, he looked like he gave a damn that you sounded that way.
Nobody had ever looked at you that way.
You aren’t sure how to feel about it.
“Dude, how about instead of wasting your breath on self depreciative bullshit, you just come inside and tell me what you came here to say.”
~~~
It’s awkward. You feel awkward.
It had been a while since you had company-- you hadn’t really been planning on talking to anyone at all, despite your loneliness. You had just been looking for some solitude to sort shit out in your head-- sure, what Karkat had said to you hurt, but you didn’t really want or expect an apology. Especially not an in person apology like this.
You sort’ve wonder why he even bothered to come see you, you didn’t really peg him as the type to feel a lot of regret after an argument like that. After all, he had won, what was there to feel bad about? You figure it’s been weighing on his conscious, what other reason would he step forward like this. You don’t really think it has to do with the fact that he hurt your feelings, honestly. He had no idea how cutting the words really were-- all that stuff about being insecure behind a blatant wall of false confidence. He’d made you question how good you really were at keeping your composure-- was it that obvious to everyone, that you had a lot of insecurity just beneath the surface? Or was he just that emotionally intuitive? He doesn’t seem all that fluent in the realm of feelings on the surface, considering how abrasive he is overall. You aren’t sure, you don’t know him well enough. Honestly, you don’t really care to get to know him though--
Oh shit you haven’t been listening.
“...so yeah I think I got a little carried away because of that jealousy and how I was projecting my feelings onto you, and I really am sorry for that. It was unfair of me to say, and-- I just want to say that if you’re making Terezi happy, and she’s making you happy, that--” he pauses, takes a deep breath. You see his eyes sparkle again and oh god please no don’t cry again, you have no idea how to deal with that shit. “That… that’s what I want. I want what’s best for her, even if it’s not what makes me the happiest. Please take good care of her. She’s an amazing troll and she deserves the best… and while I don’t understand exactly what she sees in you-- please give her the best you have to offer.” Tears slip down his cheeks. It feels like a fist pulls your heart down into your stomach, straining your veins and making your stomach lurch with each beat. You awkwardly pat his back. Oh, shit. He thinks you’re still dating her. You’re actually impressed with the level of maturity he’s achieved-- mad props to him, he genuinely respects and cares for her. Too bad this approval didn’t come sooner.
“Yeah uh... “ you say. “I really appreciate that, and I’m sure she would too, but--” you pause. He’s staring at you, the beginnings of a glare forming. “We’re not a thing anymore.”
He stares at you in disbelief. You can’t really read his expression beyond that. “What?!”
“Yeah we were sorta talking about her and G--” You stop yourself and recover quickly. “--getting into other quadrants, how I’d feel about that. I dunno, we were seeing some cultural differences that didn’t quite mesh and-- eh, I don’t wanna talk about the intimate details of my breakup with you. Suffice it to say, we decided it wasn’t gonna work.”
He narrowed his eyes at you-- they were alarmingly catlike, able to shrink into slits. “Well…” he sighed. “I guess I can see where culture shock would pry apart an interspecies relationship, especially regarding the popular idea of monogamy among you humans clashing so much with the widely accepted polygamous tendencies of trolls. I guess that seems like the right decision… is she okay?”
“As far as I know. I haven’t talked to her.” You say. This is sorta weird… Karkat wasn’t yelling or angry for once. Just… talking to you. This, as far as you could remember, had… never happened.
Silence stretches out uncomfortably between the two of you. Karkat’s sorta staring at you, which… is hella creepy. “Do you think maybe you could, like… stop. I’m not a baby, and I’m at least mostly sure you’re not a dingo.”
“...that sounds like a slur.” He mumbled, not bothering to ask, but he did seem to get the gist that you didn’t want him putting his peepers all over you. You let out an awkward laugh and say nothing. Well now the quietness is even more uncomfortable. Shit.
“Well.” He finally says. “Good talk.” Much to your relief, he got up, and headed for the door.
“Karkat?” You say before he can leave. He stops and looks back for a moment. “Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
He nods, then leaves, without another word.
~~~
You don’t talk to him, and he doesn’t talk to you. Same as before. Though… now the rift between you two had something in it. You weren’t sure what to call this something, but it was there, and… somehow it soaked up some of that distance, and made you and Karkat seem almost connected through his apology. You feel as if you have an inkling of a bridge beginning there, like you now have a pathway out of seclusion, if you choose to take it. Somehow, you feel like Karkat feels similarly, though the two of you never talk. Sometimes you log into pesterchum and look at his handle, consider starting a conversation. At just the click of a button, you could cease your existence as a hermit, and seek out interaction with another lifeform. And, if your hypothesis was correct, they’d reciprocate in an at least semi-friendly manner. It’s just a matter of figuring out why that felt wrong.
You don’t know why Karkat makes you feel so uncomfortable. Your first instinct is to chalk it up to his loud, rude manner of speaking. But if you were more honest with yourself, you’d say it was the way his vehement eyes seemed to be able to peel back layers of skin, bone, thought, and memory to look into your core. It felt like he could see right through you, as easily as if you were made of glass. You don’t know why the thought scared you so much; just thinking about it was enough to make your chest tighten.
You opt to instead head out of your room and visit Can Town, like you used to do with Terezi. You sigh; she was cool. It was really too bad that it wouldn’t work out. Hanging out around here and seeing all her blind scribbles made you nostalgic for a time when you weren’t so lonely. You allow yourself a small chuckle when you see the work she’d been doing on the town gardens; the strawberry patch (which was just red chicken scratch) became a blueberry patch about halfway through being planted, due to lack of materials. That particular gardener had quite a taste for strawberry chalk, it seemed.
God, you miss her.