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“Okay, try again.” He could feel the headache forming in his think pan, spreading out and up his horns and all the way down to his lobe stem in a dull pulse. They were sitting in the main block of his hive, with him sitting on the rectangular seating plane in the center, and Kankri and Porrim on either side of him, facing each other over a table and each settled into small piles. No one looked happy to be there.
“Karkat, I feel that having to listen to her dress me down one more time will seriously trigger me,” Kankri nearly growled. It was still weird to see the tiny preacher get so worked up, but Porrim really looked no better. If Karkat wasn't there, he was sure they would be either tearing each other to pieces or having furious sex. Or both. Karkat didn't want to have to scrub blood or slurry from his furred floor coverings for the next week.
“Look, if you'd let her finish the first time, you wouldn't have to get things shoved down your hear canals four times,” Karkat told his dancestor. “You both know the rules. You interrupt, and I have you start again. Porrim. Go. You have one minute.”
“Thank you, Karkat,” Porrim nearly purred, before her voice hardened. “Kankri.” She didn't use his nickname anymore. Not since she had flipped black and he had risen to the challenge. “Your insistence on spurning me, even now, is very hurtful. I've known you since you we were wigglers. Do you think I offer my quadrants to just anyone? I've always been taking care of you, and the moment I ask you to return the favor, you act like I'm asking you to eat your lusus.”
“Time.” Karkat's voice cut through what was probably going to be quite a tirade. Porrim almost seethed, but she calmed herself some, respecting what her middle leaf told her. Kankri was no better. Even though he had been the one to approach Karkat, asking for help before he and Porrim made a mistake they couldn't come back from, he clearly smarted from the rules. But Karkat had been firm with both of them, and they had thanked him like his leaves were supposed to, although it was taking a bit more effort for it to be sincere thanks.
“Kankri, go. Remember you can't start with 'you.'” Karkat's eyes were sharp when he said it, preventing that fight from starting again. “One minute.”
Despite their falling out, and whatever this complicated thing was between them, Kankri still wore the sweater. Karkat knew, from his position outside of the black tangle, that his dancestor would have to give that up at some point. It would sting, but it was the deepest, festering wound on this fucking relationship.
“Porrim, you.” And Kankri stopped, biting his lips. “Excuse me, Karkat, Porrim. I seemed to have slipped up. My apologies if that has triggered you.” The politeness was like a knife, but Karkat let it slide for now. While insincere, it was progress. “Let me start again?” Karkat nodded. “Porrim, I am not a wiggler anymore. I don't need to be taken care of. I don't need to have romance in my life, especially not pale romance, to be happy with myself. My vow, despite what many people seem to think, is not from some immature and frankly ineffectual rebellion against a problematic system of oppression.”
“Time.” Karkat desperately wished that he could trade places with Kanaya. The rainbowdrinker was far, far better at remaining impartial, and she was a born meddler. She would eat this tension up and feel good about the way the fire between them seemed to be getting a bit more manageable. Karkat managed by threatening them both routinely, and forcing them to sit through his version of the Vantas lecture, where he had to schoolfeed them on how their relationship was not healthy and they asked him to be their auspistice, did they damage their think pans somewhere along the way? He was doing this for them both and for the pity of Troll Jegus, they had better appreciate him.
“May I speak a further point?” Kankri questioned, his voice hesitant. This interruption, despite his penchant for whining, was one with a point. Karkat had quickly learned to recognize those from the other ones where Kankri just wanted to make noise.
“Fine.” His whole head was hurting from the tension in the room. He could only imagine the pan-ache from all that grinding of fangs.
“Do you really think I owe you a quadrant because you were nice to me?” The question wasn't hostile, for a change. In fact, it actually sounded vulnerable. The air in the block changed, and Karkat readied his papping hand. But Porrim stiffened and then went slack, like all the air had gone out of her thorax.
“No, Kanny.” Her voice was almost a sigh. “That… wasn't fair of me. I'm sorry.”
“I'm sorry if I led you on, Porrim.” It seemed like it was apology for apology, then, and the two stared at each other for a while, both vulnerable.
Karkat's pan had had enough of dealing with emotions, and he stood, startling the both of them after a moment. “I am getting boiled leaf water from the nutritionblock,” he announced. “I have an assignment for you both while I'm gone.”
When the two dancestors looked up at him, Karkat gave them a toothy look, pointing to his stack of movies. “Pick something to watch. And if you decide to spill fucking fluids on my table, I will shoosh-pap you both so hard you nookmunches will be hosting a feelings jam about how good I am for you. I am not afraid of this fucker going pale anytime soon.”
Karkat headed into the block without another word. Over the perigee or so that he had been dealing with these two, he had managed to get to a point where they could be alone. Together. And as he moved to boil water, he swore he could hear soft speaking. He put one clawed hand to the side of his head to hear a little better, but didn't try very hard.
“Can't return your feelings like that,” Kankri was saying, sounding almost desperate. Was he really going to walk back in on them pailing?
“Hate you so much,” Porrim replied. “Pity you even more.” Her voice was a bit louder, sadder, but Karkat stayed out of this part. His job was to make sure they didn't destroy each other with pitch feelings. If they flipped red, he was free, at least until they flipped again.
The water was beginning to boil. Karkat moved to make the leaf water. And when he moved to balance the three cups, walking back to the table, he saw that his leaves were close together, debating in a friendly way over Doctorturer Dolittle versus Coming to Alternia.
“Eddiee Murphy is clearly displaying his talents more effectively in Coming to Alternia,” Kankri informed the world. Kankri set the cups down, but said nothing, so the two ignored him, trusting him to interfere if necessary and not to interfere when he wasn't.
“But Kankri, the little beasts in Doctorturer Dolittle are so adorable,” Porrim replied. “Especially the little barkbeast. It is the cutest thing.”
“One slightly less aware than myself might call your affections toward cute things playing into a stereotype.”
“Come on, Kanny. We can watch Coming to Alternia next time.” She glanced at Karkat for a moment, but the smaller mutant had no intention of speaking. He just took his place behind them, relaxing with his cup of boiled leaf water. And this was healthy debate for a change. As the resident Shouty McNubs, he could tell the difference pretty well.
Kankri seemed to want to argue, but he bit his lips together with his fangs. Then, he slumped a bit, conceding defeat graciously. “Next time,” he repeated. “You've made a promise, Porrim.”
“Yes I have.”
It took a little maneuvering for Porrim to put on the winning movie. Kankri retrieved a warmth plane, and they both snuggled up to Karkat with the plane wrapped around their fronds. Karkat insisted this was how they end their sessions. Moirails had a nice shoosh-pap after a feelings jam. Karkat had a movie with his left and right leaf just barely touching claws over his stomach. Maybe it was true—he was a little pale for everyone. But these fragile, plain moments helped them see each other without being blinded by hate.
About halfway through the movie, Kankri set their cups down and snuggled more firmly into Karkat's chest. Porrim moved to let the redbloods have the warmth plane and settled her head into Karkat's lap, careful not to pierce him. And careful not to pierce Kankri.
When the movie was nothing more than the long black wind of credits, Karkat shifted. He was feeling over-warm and a little sleepy, and when he saw that Kankri was dozing on his shoulder, he sighed.
“He always does it,” Porrim offered, from her place on his lap. She didn't look at him, but her voice sounded a little sad.
“Yeah.”
“All I ever wanted to do was make him trust me. Make him pity me, too, a little. But he's always been so stubborn, Karkat.” Porrim was sniffling on his lap. He offered no comfort. That wasn't the auspistice's job. His job was to listen and be their impartial judge.
“I don't know what to do with myself around him,” she almost whispered. This time, Karkat did act, taking her arm and maneuvering it until he reached her hand. Without waking Kankri, he leaned forward and kissed the base of her palm, where it joined her wrist. The balled up rock that was her fist unclenched. Peace, the gesture commanded, and peace it got.
“That's what I'm for,” Karkat replied. “If you want to talk? I'll fucking listen. I'm not going to let either of you wreck yourselves.” There was no pale in that voice. Just a reminder that it was his job. Times like this, she didn't need any more quadrant blurring.
“Thank you, sweetie. But I think It's a bit too early for an ashen feelings jam tonight. Can you wake Kankri while I shut off the movie?”
If the rainbowdrinker took an extra second to wipe her eyes, Karkat didn't remark on it. Instead, he patted Kankri's cheek a few times, just until the preacher startled awake.
“Oh, my apologies,” Kankri murmured, rubbing his eyes. “Is the movie over?”
“Yes. You managed to sleep through basically all of it.”
“I apologize. Are we leaving now?”
Karkat sighed and ruffled the hair of his dancestor, ignoring the indignant squeak. “Get out of my hive.”
It was easier now, with the feelings cooling down from flames to embers. Eventually, they would be ash, like the quadrant intended. But for now, while Porrim and Kankri gave each other indignant looks, Karkat took both of their hands at the doorway to the hive. Porrim was the first to go, as usual, and she didn't look back.
“Thank you for this again, Karkat,” Kankri murmured before going. “I don't want to hate her.” After their sessions, he was usually short-winded. Just a shadow in his efforts to dampen his own feelings, and those of Porrim. If it pained him, he was as stoic as Karkat about it.
“That's what I'm here for,” Karkat replied, again, taking his natural pale out of his voice. Disdain colored his tone instead. He wasn't supposed to pity either one of them, even if Kankri reached for his hand and held it.
Eventually, Kankri left as well, his little form even smaller under the weight of a middle leaf. Karkat returned, cleaned up the cups, and headed to the coon. This would happen every few days, when Porrim and Kankri found each other a little too hateful. These last few times, they realized it themselves, so at least that was something.
Nobody would get destroyed. That was the promise, right? Karkat laughed to himself. Kanaya was probably smarter than he was for turning down the offer.