This was my first fic I wrote for Secret Santa Homestuck. It's a Johnkat fic for pocketsizedkarkat, and basically I wrote about how John and Karkat's first meeting might play out.
All of Karkat's life, he had been alone. Unable to fully reveal himself to anyone, always wary of the affect his blood color might have on them. He was low, unworthy, cursed. To become close to anyone was to draw them into this sorrow with him. It was better to walk alone, to stay hidden, to put on a brave face. After all, he still had his dreams. In a perfect world, he would find love, and his matesprit would not judge him for his blood color but would love him purely and totally. Then he would find a moirail and a kismesis. He wouldn't be killed by the drones, and he wouldn't be alone. Maybe he would even be able to become a threshecutioner, just like the Thresh Prince.
Those lonely and childish dreams seemed so far away now. It was a younger and more naive troll that thought them up, so long ago back on Alternia, before this stupid fucked-up game, before all this death. Sure, in a way Karkat had gotten what he wanted. He was a leader, and he was accepted regardless of the color of his blood. Somehow, though, it wasn't enough. Even on the meteor, surrounded by friends, dead and alive, he felt hollow and alone. Gamzee did his best to comfort him but was forced to keep to the shadows so as not to be seen by Kanaya. In this crowd of people, Karkat had no one. Kanaya had Rose, and Terezi... Terezi had Dave.
Wandering through dream bubbles, Karkat would occasionally run into Meenah, an alternate version of the empress he had longed to serve so many eons ago. She was fascinated with him, and yes, he could admit that she wasn't as bad as the other dancestors. Out of all of them, she was the only one who wasn't a complete ass. When she came to talk to him, however, he couldn't help thinking that she wasn't who he needed. She wasn't the person whose approval and attention he wanted most. It reminded him how lost he was, that he could only speak to this echo of a past wish instead of talking to the girl he missed most.
Dream and reality melded into one as Karkat walked. It seemed that he was becoming unreal and invisible, unable to yell out as he faded. Once he had fought so hard, once he had been a leader, and now he was forgotten, an unnecessary part of the team. He had given everything, sacrificed so much, seen so many friends die. To be alone after all that was nearly too much to bear.
Growing up, John's idol was his father. The prankster, the hero, the man who joked and laughed and taught John how to play the piano, the man who watched ridiculous films with him late into the night. Sburb changed John's entire life. It took so much from him. It took John's father from him, slaughtered him. John knew it was his fault. His father didn't choose to play the game, the stupid, damned game that caused that apocalypse and destroyed so much.
Playing the game was the worst decision John ever made, and he knew it, he knew it so much that it burned in his chest, and he felt like his brain was on fire. Sometimes he knelt down in his old room, breathless, shaking, nothing like the hero his father had been. He had failed. He couldn't save his father. He couldn't save anyone. He was the leader of a failed team, and as the fight with Jack grew closer and closer, John couldn't shake the feeling that it was doomed. They were all going to die, wither away in outerspace or god knows where, zap into some dream bubble to be murdered by Lord English. It was all hopeless, all worthless.
Not even Vriska could comfort him now, dead and in some twisted relationship with that dumbass troll Tavros. Some other version of him had screwed up a relationship with her. Some other John had gone on a date with her, embraced her, kissed her, lost her. Lost her to fucking Tavros.
On top of that, there was a great evil brewing, and John had been too stupid to see it. All this time, he had been naive enough to think that Jack was the worst thing the game could conjure up. He couldn't have been more wrong. An all-powerful demon who could kill people even after they were dead, permanently wiping them out of existence, was fighting against them. The game was impossible to win. All the odds were stacked against them, and John had no one to lean on. His only hope was dead. It felt like a cruel joke, the carpet pulled out from under his feet.
Only now did he realize that he wasn't prepared to be a hero. He wasn't ready to lose everything and die fighting. There was so much more he wanted, a world beyond this nightmare. There was no way to explain that to Jade. How could he put his feelings into words? How could she ever understand the depth of his pain? For so long, he had believed that things would turn out all right. He had tried so hard to be optimistic, to make jokes when he was down. After all this time, though, he was just fucking tired.
Maybe it was okay that the fight with Jack was doomed. Maybe it would be okay if they lost. Oblivion would at least be more peaceful than this. If he was dead, maybe the constant guilt would go away.
Today was the day. After three years, the remaining players would finally be reunited. They had changed, more than they thought they would. Everyone was nervous, each for their own reasons.
Karkat imagined seeing John and Jade for the first time, the two kids who he had gotten to know the most. The last time he talked directly to John was when Gamzee was first sober. The last time John had said something to Karkat, the message had been delivered in a bucket, thrown right at Karkat's face. What would John think of him now? Karkat worried that John would see him for the pathetic troll he was, short even after puberty, more soft-spoken than he came off through pesterchum. On top of that, surely John remembered Karkat's flirtations with him, how Karkat had practically begged John to be his kismesis. Those feelings were mostly gone now, and they had never been reciprocated. It was ridiculous, another one of Karkat's fuck-ups from his past, another person he had pushed away and freaked out. John probably wouldn't want anything to do with him.
It was silly to even be happy.
It was stupid how much Karkat had been waiting for this day.
When John, Jade, and Davesprite first appeared in the distance, it surprised John how tired they looked. Jade was less affected, but John had dark circles under his eyes and a slump in his walk. His usual smirk had turned into a grimace, and his sloppy hair no longer looked carefree, instead standing out like a mark of his surrender. He looked broken.
For the first time, Karkat realized that he wasn't the only washed-up leader in this game. He wasn't the only one with blood on his hands.
John smiled weakly as he stood in front of them, and Rose pulled him into an embrace, laughing. Vaguely, Karkat wondered if she was drunk. Jade practically jumped onto Dave, and Dave's cool surface cracked a little, letting out a small smile.
Karkat hung back, unsure of what to say.
Jade ran up to him next, hugging him and teasing him about the gigantic sweater he was wearing. Over Jade's shoulder and through the bush of her hair, Karkat could see John. After a moment, John caught his gaze.
In that glance, there was something so familiar. There was something in John's eyes that Karkat was sure he'd seen before. Quickly he realized: it was the glimmer he saw in his own eyes every morning, a steely resolution, a desire to keep on fighting no matter how much it hurt.
Once Karkat was able to get away from Jade, he stepped over towards John.
John was tall and narrow, with a sharp angle in his jaw and long fingers. He shifted from side-to-side or fiddled with his hands, keeping a constant flow of movement. There was no way that John could be nervous. He always seemed so confident and sure of himself. It was one of the reasons that Karkat originally hated him so much. He was a born leader, optimistic and self-assure, or so Karkat had thought.
"John," Karkat said, the word coming out of his mouth drily like a cough. "You look like a fucking disaster."
"Sorry," John answered back, "it's kind of hard to hear you from all the way up here. Now I realize why you had to type in all caps."
"God damn it, Egbert, you're as fucking snarky as ever. I thought I said I wasn't interested in you as a kismesis anymore."
"Not more of this troll romance bullshit. I didn't wait three years to have a repeat of that conversation."
Silence fell as neither knew what to say. They looked at the ground, unable to make direct eye contact.
"I fucking missed you, you horrible bulgelicker," Karkat confessed finally, the words coming out of his mouth too quickly like an avalanche. This isn't what he meant to say. This isn't how he wanted things to go.
Tentatively, John leaned down to wrap his arms around Karkat. He didn't say anything, just held him. In his arms, Karkat felt solid, more solid than anything had since his father's death.
Finally, John found the words inside his throat. "I missed you too," he said.
Karkat blushed, unused to the feel of John's warm arms around him like a blanket. Karkat awkwardly hugged him back, saying, "There's no need to turn this into the reunion scene at the end of that shitty earth movie."
"It's a fucking shitty movie," John said, pulling Karkat a little tighter.
John's chest moved up and down rapidly, and Karkat could hear his breathing become more shallow.
"John," Karkat sighed, "don't worry. Everything is going to be all right."
