Work Text:
Gamzee stared at the pile for a moment. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone. Between the bubbles and the planets and never being all that good with time to begin with, measuring that kind of stuff had become weird. He blinked, how old was he? No chance a full sweep had passed, Karkat would have lost a bakery’s worth of pans if he’d missed his own wriggling day. Half might’ve though 6.5. It felt right so it was probably true.
He wondered what he’d be doing if none of this shit went down. Probably rusting out his pan still; probably nothing really worth a damn. A nobody who’d never be awake enough to see things... Motherfucker might’ve been a bit happier than he was. Never would’ve truly known the cost of bringing about the Dark Carnival. Never would’ve felt blood on his face or heard the crack of a juggling club against a skull. Didn’t matter though, cause that guy wasn’t him.
He picked up a horn and pressed down on it making it honk. He snorted, alright yeah, it was still hilarious. He honked back at it. He pressed it again twice and laughed as he honk-honked back at it. He laid against the pile and continued. He could do this for hours really.
Right on cue, Karkat burst into the room like a hurricane, “Gamzee. I need to know what the fuck is going on with you.”
He put the horn down, “Come on Best Friend,” he cocked his head playfully, “that’s not what’s actually got you throwing a fit.” He pat the pile of horns like a chair waiting, “cuddle?”
Karkat bristled, “we’re not doing this- I can’t… I CAN’T do this.”
Gamzee’s face shifted, his calm blank stare gaining a hint of… Something at Karkat’s pain.
“It’s the same thing every time. I ask what you’re doing, you drag me into the piles and suddenly I’ve switched to talking about Dave being a nookweed or the fucking memos or whatever other bits of feeling have been wriggling in my pan for the last few months!” Karkat starts to pace, “And than you’re like, “honk! Guess I’ve done my job as a Moirial, see you whenever, and goddamn it Gamzee!”
Karkat took a horn out of the pile and threw it at the wall. Gamzee stood up and moved foreward, his hand in hesitant position- and Karkat pushed it away.
“Don’t shoosh pap me- that’s literally,” he pulled at his hair.
Gamzee stepped back, “Sorry, just thought, you know with the motherfucking horn throwing.” He shrugged, “Could make a guy think you were going to do something or something.”
“YOU- FUCKING-“ Karkat slapped his forehead than took a deep breath, another. And another. He slowly rose his head and for a moment just stared at Gamzee. For a second there was silence as Karkat watched him; Gamzee’s eyes shifted this way and that, refusing to meet him.
“HONK.” He broke the silence with a noise of pure habit and a lighthearted smile. You’d think he didn’t understand what was going on.
Karkat put a hand on his cheek, “I’m your Moirial. That means it’s my job to make sure you don’t get so emotionally fucked up that it becomes a problem for everyone else.” He gave a single pat alertness, a physical presence when a Troll’s brain is too loud. “I can’t do that if you don’t talk to me.” He gave a small shoosh, and it served the typical purpose, it told Gamzee that he was safe here. But more than that this time, it was a plea. To allow him into his thoughts, his life. To allow him to be his moirail again. “Please.”
There’s a timeline somewhere where this worked. Where Karkat’s black eyes burrowed into Gamzee’s soul until he began talking about paradox’s and prophecies and how things must be until his face turned purple. Maybe Karkat would even believe him.
But that timeline is doomed, his voice would ring through this world as a vast death sentence. At best they’d be trapped in a Bubble until the Alpha timeline corrected the crime of their existence outside of the natural order. No. That wasn’t how this story goes.
Gamzee took Karkat’s hand and faked a pratfall, slipping on nothing and dragging them into the pile sending the horns flying this way and that.
“GAMZEE?! You unabolitioned-nook-eating tool- How did you manage- we were standing still! Are you seriously so pan rotted that you can’t even-“ Karkat stopped talking. His eyes narrowed, “that wasn’t an accident was it?”
Gamzee shrugged, but his tongue out cheeky grin revealed the truth.
Karkat scrambled to his feet, “I wanted to have an actual conversation with you but fuck it I guess! Fuck whatever we were supposed to have, fuck whatever I may have wanted or felt. Who cares! This whole thing was a farce from day one. Just go back to your plans and your vent and the things you actually care about. I’m done with this.”
And just like that, he stormed his way out of Gamzee’s life. He stared at the door for a while, a familiar feeling ached in his bones. They were a wonderful moment while they lasted. A short, bright, miracle of a thing. It was never supposed to last though. Probably wasn’t supposed to happen at all.
As he walked up to the wall to crawl into the vent, he accidentally stepped on one of the horns. The surprise loud honk made his body flail and he fell over. He rubbed his head, it smarted a bit. Didn’t make the noise any less funny though. So no hard feelings really, he honked back at it to prove he was fine to the horn, Pat it gently and began his climb. No time for all this. He had work to do