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John tapped his pencil on his notebook and felt the tip snap, leaving a spill of graphite dust, smudging the words and denting the page. He wiped it away with his fingers and the lead stuck under the nails, stubborn and impossible. It was an old school pencil, rather than the mechanicals he preferred; he was going to have to sharpen it manually— versus the convenience of a few click click click motions.
He sighed and stood, loping over to the wall sharpener and shoving it in, spinning the crank on autopilot. The teacher droned on about tangent lines, oblivious or well practiced at ignoring the ennui of his students, and John sat down with his newly sharpened pencil. Routine successfully mimicked.
The crumbled up ball of paper that collided with the side of his head was decidedly less so.
John scrunched his face in annoyance as he spread it out, and sighed once more in exasperation at the words messily scrawled there.
How much longer?
There was a crudely drawn caricature of the teacher underneath, with arrows pointing at various features that were apparently disagreeable. An attempt had been made to at least feign taking algebra notes in the corner, but they were abandoned in favor of some aggressive portraiture. John had to smother a snicker; the guy did have some really weird mutton chops.
“Passing notes in class?” Crap! John looked up sheepishly at the decidedly unamused face of the math teacher, hoping his winning smile might lighten the sentence. It did not.
“Lunch detention for Misters Egbert and Vantas,” and with that he went right back to the board, scratching lines with chalk as though there hadn’t been any interruption worthy of note.
John groaned and leaned his head back over his chair, looking upside down at the teenaged boy who just landed them both in gogdamned detention. His hair was as messy as ever, but the warmly tanned skin was new. Luckily his sleepily lidded eyes were consistent in every universe: dark and red, he was unmistakable.
Especially with the scowl twisting his freckled face into knots. Honestly, he was going to be stuck like that one day and John was going to laugh.
When the bell rang everyone started shoving their books in their backpacks without a care. John took his own blue backpack and did the same, crinkling loose leaves of paper and crushing beat up textbooks. It wasn’t heavy when he shouldered it, slinging it over one shoulder and standing without a care. Class was over, and he followed his instincts, heading for his locker.
Lunch was the next period, and thanks to a certain someone he’d be eating it in the detention room. He should probably have been more annoyed at Karkat over it, but for some reason he found it more endearing than anything else. It wasn’t like it was out of character for him.
The combination came to his fingers and he twisted the dial only once, that version of himself subscribing to the time saving measures of the One Turn Method, and lifted the latch to open it. He was faced with another pigsty of loose leaf paper and almost shredded textbooks, which he took in with a slow blink.
Sitting atop the magnificent mess was a large brown paper bag. His lunch apparently. As he reached for it though, a certain boy stomped up to him, grouchy and empty handed. John took him in with a raised eyebrow, the denim jacket covering a red flannel and white thermal…wait. Were those fingerless gloves? He rolled his lips between his teeth to hide his smile, the red bandana tied around Karkat’s ankle the ultimate blow to his composure.
“Where’s your lunch?” John asked, shutting his locker and reshouldering his backpack while stifling laughter between ill hidden coughs.
“I don’t have one. My shitty humanschool privacy chamber is empty, except for the guillotine. What in the gogdamn hell is this fucking horrible place?”
“School. Human school. C’mon Karkat, you can put two and two together! Especially since we just got out of math.” John grinned and walked through the hall, students parting for him without even making eye contact.
Someone knocked into Karkat hard, sending him sprawling, and he shouted a loud string of curse words to the student’s back. John’s ears burned as he helped him up— he wasn’t sure if half of the words were even English— but Karkat snarled and refused the hand. The new human yanked on his shirts in some attempt to put himself back into some semblance of order, but it was kind of futile. He was the perfect high school bad boy type of rugged, totally allergic to anything resembling orderly.
John, meanwhile, was wearing white sneakers and a blue tank top, blue jeans and a thin gold chain. It might’ve been an outfit he’d wear normally, but John had a hard time seeing Karkat changing his style up to the degree he had at the moment.
“You didn’t answer me before. How much longer?” Karkat growled at his side, eyeing the students around them with immense suspicion.
“I didn’t answer you because you got us in trouble! How was I supposed to relay that info, exactly? I’m talking to you now, jegus.” He pushed the door open and nodded at the gym teacher at the desk, settling down at one of the tables and pulling out his lunch.
“The dearth of your intelligence isn’t usually my problem, but unfortunately for the both of us, we are currently at the mercy of the concavity of your nugbone.” The scathing words didn’t have the intended effect, John giggling as he pulled out a family bag of potato chips, three sandwiches, donuts, a jug of milk, and a nice shiny red apple.
“What the fuck.” The tone was an almost awed sort of disgust. “Tell me humans don’t have a second acid tract I’m just now finding out about.”
“You made us, you would know.” John squinted at the uh— bounty, before him and then furrowed his brow at the empty space in front of Karkat’s folded arms.
“John, we need you up a weight class, you better eat all of that, or you’re running suicides ‘til your daddy picks you up.” The gruff voice of the gym teacher— and wrestling coach, apparently— made John deflate.
“You got it, coach.” He ripped the plastic wrap off of a sandwich and stuffed it in his mouth, taking a huge bite, and the older man nodded in approval.
Karkat huffed grouchily next to him and then let out a rattling cough, deep and wet. John blinked and patted his back, feeling the knobs of his spine through layers of fabric until the fit stopped. He was pretty small back when he was a teenager, and in a way it was nostalgic to see him like that again.
Only, it really wasn’t, because this time Karkat was a human.
There was a weird twisty feeling in his gut every time he noticed it. The smattering of freckles across his cheeks, both in a timeline where Karkat was a human, and in the same high school? Were they even friends? From the looks of things, probably not.
It made him frown as he knocked a sandwich onto his lap, then surreptitiously handed it to Karkat under the table. He took it, then shoved the whole damn thing in his mouth at once, mayonnaise smearing across his lips. John grimaced at the sight but Karkat just glared openly, his cheeks bulging as he chewed.
“You better savor that, we’re onto the next one in a few minutes.” He sighed into the turkey club, just like Dad used to make. “If you can even taste it, jeez.”
He made a big show of noisily chewing and swallowing, then opened his mouth and stuck out his pink tongue. John flushed at the sight, and slapped a hand over Karkat’s gaping maw. His face darkened into a deeper glare and he tried to smack John’s mouth back; John leaned back until he was out of reach of all of Karkat’s little slaps.
Coach barked at them to cut it out and John turned his attention to his lunch again like a model citizen, while Karkat fell into another fit of coughs.
“What’s up with that, dude?” John looked at him out of the corner of his eye, watching his tanned skin warm with a flush.
“S’just this sandwich was so fuckin’ dry,” Karkat sputtered, beating on his own chest in a fruitless attempt to stop the gogdamned coughing.
John wordlessly slid him a can of coke, and Karkat cracked it open and started chugging like he had been dying of thirst. The sandwiches had been wrapped in plastic since the morning, so they hadn’t had a chance to be dry.
Karkat didn’t stop coughing after he drank the entire can though, and his chest rattled with each attack like he was going to shake apart.
Earlier.
The sun was setting outside his lab, streaming orange light through the windows and casting deep shadows. The air was stale, dry from the aircon pumping through the vents, barely disturbing the dust that had settled on the filing cabinets. It was barely furnished, just a squishy and well loved couch backed against a wall. John could vouch for its comfort, he’d spent many a late night crashed out on it, his jacket his only blanket.
He was bent over his table, ignoring the heat at his back while going over his notes for the tenth time. It was quiet, with the occasional sound coming from the trollian tech Dave’s Bro had installed some years ago. John had gotten used to it; typing backwards made coding easier somehow, but it always paid to be sure before he made any jumps.
There was a knock at the door, which was…unexpected. John worked alone, and for good reason— less risks of harm when the only variable was John himself.
“Come in!” He called, tucking his pencil behind his ear after making a mark on the large sheet of paper.
Karkat opened the door and hovered at the threshold, which was another unexpected occurrence. John was so used to him barging into his house, unapologetically making a big mess for John to clean up, and storming off in a lather. He’d never come to the lab before. Frankly, no one did. John had done a decent job of impressing the riskiness of his work on everyone else; they’d all listened to his warnings.
Until now, apparently!
“John.” He said, uncharacteristically serious. Then, he squinted. “The fuck are you doing.”
“Research. You know that.”
“Yeah, that’s what you told everyone. Research.” His clawed fingers came up to make sarcastic airquotes. “Did you ever actually explain that shit? Or did you just decide to masquerade as a mysterious douchebag ripped right out of one of your unspeakably terrible human films? One with that foul Nicholas Cage in the leading role-”
“Oh man, if only!” His eyes went huge in wonder, imagining the coolest of cool men to ever live being in his shoes? Too cool for words, Dave would never understand. “No, though. I mean. It’s real stuff, I’m not roleplaying.”
“Right. And that ‘real stuff’ being?” Karkat sneered, folding his arms over his broad chest, still in the same grey sweater as always.
“My timeline powers. The Retcon Ability. Whatever you want to call it!” John answered, a little too candidly, already feeling the looming danger creep closer at the new element at play.
Karkat gave him a flatly unimpressed look, his mouth pulling into a frown, which was completely unfair. John mirrored the face the best he could, but knew he was failing. He lacked the sheer Eyebrow Power being deployed on Karkat’s face. Those things could communicate an entire Dostoevsky novel’s worth of irritation, it was something to behold.
“Isn’t that dangerous? Especially without a Mind player?”
John sighed and rubbed the back of his head, looking for something to say and failing. “Will you just fucking come in already? Last I checked you’re a troll not a vampire, you don’t have to linger in the doorway waiting for an invitation. The couch is comfortable…sit or something…”
He rolled his eyes, a motion that took his entire body to accomplish, right down to his feet tapping in annoyance. “Ah yes, your inferior human loungeplank. I’m sure to you it resembles something like comfort.”
“When are you going to stop the alien invader routine and just call them by their names? Puny Earthling scum, I spit upon your filthy living room sit units! Or whatever shit you say instead of chilling out for five seconds.”
“I can’t even be comfortable on your shit rock, human. Your sun is too gogdamned bright and it’s making my ganderbulbs tear!” Karkat grumbled as he slouched over to the couch, sitting with his arms still folded.
“Oh shit, here lemme…” He tapped a button and it activated the window’s dimmer function, bringing the room to a more comfortable warmth. John sighed; he was so dogshit at hosting, his Dad had always been the one to make sure guests felt welcome. As an adult he couldn’t help but feel lacking.
He sighed inwardly and went to the kitchenette, pulling out two cups from the cupboard. John chewed at his lip while searching for the tea kettle Rose had given him for a “Lab Warming” gift. It was still in the box. Awkward! He yanked it out of the styrofoam with a sharp squeak. Cursing to himself, he fumbled for some teabags and filled the kettle up with water from the sink.
“What in gog’s name are you even doing over there.” More flat words that weren’t even questions from the most sarcastic troll in paradox space.
“Making tea, being a good host, shit like that.” John said airily. The kettle came to a boil fast as hell. Good gift. Best gift. Thank you, Rose! Once done he poured the bubbling water into the two cups, letting them steep for a bit.
There was a heavy silence that permeated the lab, when-
“Right. I should go.” Karkat stood stiffly and turned away.
John stiffened and spun around, facing him as he turned to walk away. His hand felt… cramped, the bones creaking in a way that twinged the nerves. Something wasn’t right. The event taking place wasn’t supposed to happen the way it was playing out; a divergence was forming right in front of him. John knew the feeling well, as his hand split into a cold white void.
“Karkat, wait. Don’t go!” Something in John’s voice must’ve gotten through, because Karkat paused just long enough for him to grab him by the shoulder.
“John! What the fuck?!” Karkat whirled on him, his expression going slack with fear as his eyes darted to John’s twisted fingers, cracks of white streaming through the seams.
“Stay with me, just stay with me.” John tried to sound reassuring, but Karkat’s big red eyes were frantic and terrified. “Whatever happens, just stay with me-”
“John!”
They’d tumbled through the void together then, no longer living beings. Souls split into mere photons and electrons that disseminated through time and space, snap realigning in a new place, a new dimension, a new self.
It was disorienting at first, especially for Karkat, who had been so completely panicked he had terrified all the carapacians in their vicinity when they first landed. Calming him down had been no easy task, but John had to do it, and he had to explain the rules.
“You have to play your part.” They were sitting in a field, no one was around for miles, and John held Karkat upright with a firm hand. “Fate will feed you all the info you need, just go with it. Don’t try to go rogue, you could change things.”
“So fucking what?” Karkat panted, hoarse from screaming for the better part of an hour. “These are offshoots, right? Failed timelines? Who cares what happens to them.”
“We don’t know that.” John said firmly. “You have to give them their best shot at success, if we take it away, we’re dooming them without recourse. Have some compassion for your alternate self, Karkat.”
“Fuck that asshole.” He spat. “I hate my alternate self.”
“Well I don’t, so I’d appreciate it if you could follow my lead.” He stared right into Karkat’s red eyes, which had finally lost the panicked edge, and now looked back at him in open bafflement.
“You are so fucking weird, John.”
After that, they’d almost instantly broken into particles again, scattered into the blinding light of the void. It’d been almost a dozen times, and Karkat had started getting more used to the routine. John had felt his worries ease little by little; it was good he was starting to play his part!
There was just the one niggle, Karkat had begun coughing intensely when he’d landed in a new dimension.
It was hard to ignore, the dry rattling of his lungs was grating to the ears, but he had to. They had bigger things to worry about than a little cold. Karkat was strong, he’d deal.
When John finally realigned again he breathed deep and looked down. His hands were ashen grey on a black keyboard. It was familiar, in that it was unfamiliar; John had never been so glad he’d gotten used to the Trollian language. Even without Fate nudging him into the proper way of doing things, he could communicate just fine.
The monitor beheld a familiar sight, but…well. It was obvious one thing was pretty off. His mouth twitched and he set his fingers to the keys.
ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]
[EB]: uh karkat? are you there?
[CG]: HOLY SHIT.
[EB]: oh hey! there you are hehe.
[CG]: YES JOHN, UNFORTUNATELY I AM STILL HERE AND APPARENTLY COHERENT ENOUGH TO REALIZE THAT THIS SPECIFIC UNIVERSE IS FUCKED BEYOND ALL RECOGNITION.
[EB]: bluh, can we not have this conversation again?
[EB]: i told you multiple times already that isnt how it works!
[EB]: and here i thought we were doing so well…
[CG]: NO SHUT UP, SHUT YOUR FUCKING FACE HOLE FOR A SECOND SO I CAN EXPLAIN THE GRAVITY OF THE SITUATION JOHN.
[CG]: YOU'RE A TROLL RIGHT NOW RIGHT?
[EB]: i mean, yeah? so what?
The universes they fell into had been predominantly human or human adjacent, with one or the both of them retaining their species, but Karkat had joined the earthling side at least a half a dozen times by that point. John knew his retcon powers were at play there, he guessed there had to be a little variety when it came to jumps? Definitely something to put on the backburner for later.
[CG]: OKAY. HAVE YOU TAKEN A GOOD FUCKING LOOK ON WHERE EXACTLY YOU ARE? THE OTHER TROLLS SURROUNDING YOU?
[EB]: geez i get it! uh, gimme a second.
[EB]: whoa, there are definitely some i dont recognize but i can see terezi and kanaya!
[EB]: also i think were in the meteor but…wait. is this the meteor you guys were in while i was in the prospit ship?
[EB]: uh…
[CG]: HAVE THE LAST TWO NEURONS RATTLING IN THAT NUG BONE OF YOURS FINALLY DECIDED TO RUB AGAINST EACH OTHER AND FORM A COHERENT THOUGHT? DID YOU FINALLY FIGURE OUT JUST WHY EXACTLY THIS IS FUCKED IN THE FIRST PLACE?
[EB]: yes karkat, but i dont see the problem with this? we swapped places right?
[EB]: we just have to follow the rules remember? weve gone through this process multiple times now, it should be easy at this point!
[CG]: YOU FUCKING IMBECILE. THERE IS A FINE LINE BETWEEN FOLLOWING THE RULES AND THEN KNOWING IN YOUR BLOOD PUSHER THAT THIS IS ONE OF THE DOOMED TIMELINES THAT DID NOT SEE THE GAME TO ITS FRUITION.
[CG]: THE CHANCE OF SUCCESS FOR THESE CLUSTERFUCKS TO EVEN GET TO THE DOOR AT THE END IS NULL BECAUSE OUR SESSION IS THE ONE TO SUCCEED. JOHN, YOU ARE THE ONE THAT HAS TO KEEP THE STABILITY OF THIS SESSION ON YOUR END WITH THE TROLLS WHILE I MANAGE THE REST OF YOUR GRUB INFESTED FLOCK UNTIL WE HOP ONTO THE NEXT UNIVERSE.
[CG]: AND TO BE COMPLETELY FUCKING HONEST I DON'T THINK YOU CAN HANDLE THE SHIT WE WENT THROUGH DURING THE TIME BEFORE OUR GROUPS MET.
John couldn’t help but roll his eyes, claws tapping at the keys as he felt his brows furrow. It was an adjustment, his own blunt fingernails were frequently bitten down to the nub, but now he couldn’t feel the tips of fingers. He typed and backspaced frequently to fix the typos it caused, getting more and more frustrated each time.
[EB]: you make it sound like ill fuck it up more than it already is! have a little faith in me, i can totally keep us in track before we leave.
[CG]: I BARELY MANAGED TO DO IT AND HALF OUR GROUP DIED!
[CG]: IT'S FUCKING OBVIOUS BY NOW THAT YOU TOOK MY PLACE, AND I TOOK YOURS. I'M PRETTY SURE I CAN MANAGE JUST FINE ON THIS SIDE OF THE SHALLOW BODY OF WATER.
[EB]: oh my gog just say pond!
[CG]: FUCK YOU.
[CG]: DID YOU EVER WONDER WHAT EVEN HAPPENED DURING THAT TIME IN THE METEOR? BEFORE OUR GROUPS MERGED?
[CG]: JOHN IT WAS
[CG]: WE WERE ORDERED TO STAY AWAKE BECAUSE OUR MOONS WERE DESTROYED. I'M SURE YOU AT LEAST REMEMBER THAT, BUT THE REPERCUSSIONS OF WHAT HAPPENED AFFECTED US GREATLY DURING THAT TIME. WE WERE ALREADY SUFFERING THROUGH THE FACT THAT WE HAD NO WAY OF SLEEPING WITHOUT NIGHT TERRORS PLAGUING OUR MINDS.
[CG]: IT DIDN'T STOP AND SOME OF US TO BROKE UNDER THE STRESS. I MEAN SHIT I STILL BLAME MYSELF FOR THE DEATHS THAT ENDED UP HAPPENING. NEPETA, EQUIUS, FEFERI…NONE OF THEM DESERVED TO DIE.
[CG]: AND NOW YOU'RE GOING TO BE THE ONE TO GO THROUGH THE BREAKING POINT AND THE AFTERMATH. TO MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES I MADE.
[CG]: IF THAT IS HOW FATE HAS RULED IT BY WHATEVER ENDS UP BLASTING IN OUR THINK PANS.
[EB]:
[EB]: oh.
[CG]: YES JOHN. FUCKING OH.
[CG]: LUCKILY FOR YOU I AM HERE TO AT LEAST MAKE THE TRANSITION AS PAINLESS AS POSSIBLE.
[EB]: that should be reassuring but for some reason i am lowkey freaking out!
[CG]: YOU BETTER FUCKING NOT JOHN. YOU BETTER STAY COOL AS A FUCKING OBLONG TRELLIS CREEPER OR I SWEAR TO GOG AND ALL THAT IS UNHOLY I WILL TRACK YOU DOWN AND EVICERATE YOU WITH WILD ABANDON IF THE OTHERS CATCH ON THAT THERE'S SOMETHING GOING ON WITH THEIR BELOVED LEADER.
[EB]: you know, i really doubt they thought of you as beloved.
[EB]: or any form of endearing term.
[EB]: but thanks karkat, that actually helped!
[CG]: DON'T FUCKING MENTION IT. EVER AGAIN.
[CG]: AND ANOTHER THING.
[EB]: hm?
[CG]: CAN YOU SEE NOW WHY I FUCKING HATED YOU THE MOMENT I LAID MY GANDERBULBS ON YOU?
John simply stared at Karkat in the viewfinder, squinting as he adjusted his glasses.
[EB]: not really? always thought it was weird how quickly you did.
[CG]: LOOK AGAIN DUMBASS.
Again, he looked. He saw Karkat, but now the other was motioning and pulling at the familiar godtier outfit that John knew so well. It being, well, his own Heir of Breath getup. The face Karkat made was funny enough that John stifled a laugh with a cough, the sudden annoyance and "You see this here?" motion before flipping him off just added to the overall ridiculousness of what Karkat was implying.
[EB]: okay so
[EB]: youre telling me that the reason you hated me from the get go
[EB]: is because of my godtier?
[CG]: DO YOU SEE HOW FUCKING RIDICULOUS THIS THING IS? HOW DO YOU EVEN MOVE AROUND, I FEEL LIKE WHENEVER I TURN MY HEAD THE TAIL END WANTS TO FLAP THE OTHER DIRECTION AND SMACK ME SILLY.
[EB]: oh my gog karkat youre being a goofball.
[CG]: YOU MADE IT LOOK SO EASY BUT HOW IN THE FUCK DOES THIS WORK?
[EB]: …how do you do the windy thing?
[CG]: …YES JOHN. HOW IN THE FUCK DO YOU DO, AND I QUOTE, THE WINDY THING.
[EB]: uh, i kinda just did it? there was no instruction manual for this it just kinda clicked in my head! just listen to Fate, it’ll work out!
[CG]:
[CG]: YOU ARE SO LUCKY THAT YOU'RE OVER THERE AND I'M OVER HERE AND I CAN'T GET MY FRONDS AROUND YOUR CHITINOUS WINDHOLE.
Okay, John couldn’t help it that time, he was officially in Giggle City, population: Egbert. There was a growl that laced through the chittering laughter as his shoulders shook. It only stopped when the others started staring with wide yellow eyes; John stretched and yawned, jerking back to face the computer as he regained his composure. Another thing sobered him up instantly though— Karkat was hunched down over himself.
John's unease started to manifest once more.
[EB]: whoa hey, are you okay?
It took a moment for Karkat to answer, still hunched over, but his bout of coughing ended quickly. John watched him gather himself for a moment before throwing a thumbs up over his shoulder, a grimace clear on his features, bright blue a merry contrast against his flushed cheeks.
[CG]: NEVER BEEN BETTER. JUST THIS FUCKING COUGH I CAN'T GET RID OF FOR SOME REASON? IT'S PISSING ME OFF AT THIS POINT.
[EB]: it has been pretty insistent! we can look at it after if you want?
[CG]: IT'S FINE, JUST ANNOYING. WE GOT BIGGER THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT.
[EB]: fine mr krabs.
[EB]: wait, when did you get ketchup on my pants? :/
[CG]:
[CG]: YES JOHN. AT SOME POINT BETWEEN ME GETTING SHIT READY FOR THE SCRATCH AND AVOIDING GETTING KILLED BY THE ENTITIES WITHIN THE MEDIUM, I GOT KETCHUP ON YOUR SHITTY GODTIER PANTS.
[EB]: i mean, when you put it that way…
[CG]: EXACTLY. NOW SHUT UP AND LET ME FOCUS.
The pumping of the bass was the first thing he noticed when he came into awareness; the hairs on the back of his neck raised as the midtones surged through his body. John’s eyes fluttered open, rainbow lights casting all around the room, filled wall to wall with girls. He grinned as he realized where he was— a party, and, judging by the Greek letters: a sorority party! When he was a kid, he watched Animal House with his dad, and always looked forward to his college experience.
Sburb ensured that was never to be, but he’d made his peace with it.
It seemed Fate had decided to let him see what he had missed up close. Club music from the early 2000’s blasting from every speaker, pretty girls jumping to the beat as far as the eye could see. He took a sip from his red solo cup (classic) and bobbed along with the dulcet tones of Usher, ad libs from the legendary Lil Jon himself making the song soar ever higher.
Eventually he remembered he was supposed to be looking for Karkat, and he startled so badly he spilled his drink, which was fine… no one noticed. Everyone was having so much fun they didn’t have a spare eye for John, and wasn’t that just so college? He shook his head with a chagrined smile as he headed for the kitchen, keeping his eyes peeled for messy hair and ruby red eyes.
Karkat found him first, shoving him hard until they both went outside to the balcony. He didn’t even have a chance to talk before the once again human Karkat started ranting, although there was something distinctly off about his voice.
“Can’t even believe humans call that incessant screeching music, at a volume that almost definitely ruptured my gogdamned auricular sponge clots–”
“Karkat!” John wheezed. “You’re a girl!”
Slowly, the eerily feminine edged face of Karkat turned to face him, her expression at once disbelieving and unendingly hateful. Her eyes were wide and still red, but her left was twitching as her mouth pulled into a snarl.
Before Karkat could give him another tongue lashing, John stilled as he noticed something distinctly different from himself. “Is that my voice?” It was higher and softer than he was used to, discordant and weird. He banged a fist on his chest, and felt—
“I have boobs?!” John shrieked, looking down and seeing that yes, he did indeed have boobs. Big ones too, which— holy shit. “Karkat we’re both girls!”
“I know, John!” He yelled, both hands coming up to his head. He tugged on his densely curled hair as though he wanted to rip it out. “Where the fuck even are we?!”
It then occurred to John that he probably shouldn’t encourage Karkat into freaking out, and his own shock at his new… body, likely wasn’t helping matters. He took a deep breath and tried to settle down. Looking around, he noticed it was a nice night, the stars were out and the moon was gleaming brightly. Partiers were out on the lawn too, balloons and streamers all over the place with rainbow lights, little bright spots in the dark.
The night air was warm; it must’ve been spring, or even at the start of the year. Some party to kick things off or celebrate being close to the end? Maybe this version of John…actually. What was her name? He hoped it was cute, not something lame like Eunice or something. The thought made him snicker as he turned to look back at Karkat, who was still staring at him in barely contained antagonism.
He made a cute girl…but…
John’s smile slipped a little as he realized he actually… didn’t really think that. There was something odd about the roundness to Karkat’s cheeks— which John just realized had glitter stuck to them— the soft slimness of his body made it all so uncanny. Unnerving, really. The freckles that had been so cute on his human boy face just looked like cartoon spots. Drawn on, like he was wearing a crappy costume and not really his true self.
Right when he was going to open his mouth and figure out something reassuring to say, Karkat started coughing again. He doubled over, a hand coming up to shakily grasp at his throat, and John swore as he rubbed Karkat’s back. It spoke to how awful he must’ve felt that he didn’t even try to shake John off. If anything he leaned into the touch. John wanted to wring his hands and back off; he had no idea how to help sick people. Childishly, he wished his Nanna was there.
“Karkat…” John whispered, crouching down to help his friend. “Let’s go sit down, c’mon…”
He only groaned in response, then spat something on the ground. John’s eyes darted to it, and almost recoiled at the blood. He looked closer when he noticed something suspended in the fluid. He grimaced at what he saw, then looked back at Karkat, almost collapsed on the sparkly balcony floor. Petals…?
“This fucking sucks.” Karkat moaned, drawing out the syllables and mashing his hands onto his face. “Why is it getting worse with every jump?”
“I-I don’t know. Are those…I mean-” and John swallowed, not knowing how to continue for a moment. “It’s blood, Karkat.”
“Yes. It’s blood. I hope the color doesn’t offend you.” He drawled, which was so incredibly jarring and uncanny it made John shiver. It was Karkat’s words, his tone, but not his voice. That wasn’t Karkat, it was so wrong.
Why did it bother him so much? John liked girls. He liked girls a lot! Sure, he’d accepted he liked boys too, but he’d never felt so uncomfortable being around someone just existing before.
Karkat had shifted shapes dozens of times; he’d been human, troll, even cherub and carapacian, but it was only now that John found him distinctly uncomfortable to look at. He was just a girl, a human girl, but…
John couldn’t even look at him. The red eyes that had kept him grounded weren’t enough anymore, now framed with eyelashes that were so different from Karkat’s own, dense and spiderlike, almost definitely false.
He slid his hand from Karkat’s back to his shoulder and held him as he shook, his entire body rattling from every hacking cough.
The motion of the ship bobbing in the waves had John blinking, the side to side sway making his stomach churn, but only for a moment, his current form righting itself and settling into an experienced routine. He’d been on ships his entire life, seasickness had been well past conditioned out, and he served under…
His focus suddenly snapped to the cerulean blood in front of him, she was talking animatedly with a feral grin. He reminded himself that it was Vriska…no. Not Vriska. Marquis Spinerette Mindfang. She was chatting with him about the prisoner they captured during one of the many raids beyond the Alternian Sea. The name was elusive for a time, but John suddenly felt the memories snap into place in his head. Words stumbled, thankfully coherent as his captain paused mid sentence to listen.
"Sorry. The Signless?"
Her lips twisted into a sharp grin, something malicious and triumphant that had his heart flutter. John needed a moment to process his own reaction, the feelings foreign and clearly planted.
"Never thought we'd see the day, eh? Finally some good news, this trip was a total bust," she gloated, hand stretching out in offer. He didn’t hesitate in taking it, suddenly being pulled into her arms as she dipped him.
"And to think we found him in such conditions! Good thing I ordered the crew to take him to the brig," she added with a sigh, then pulled John up before walking away in a confident strut.
"He won't last like this, but what can we do? Honestly it would be a mercy if he died on the way, considering the other options," The apathy from Mindfang had John bite back something that he might not be able to take back later, she was seriously testing his resolve to protect the timelines.
Instead he made sure his curiosity was at the forefront, adjusting his collar while following the woman along the main deck. She didn’t pause to let him catch up, throwing her head back to cackle up at the rising sun.
"Well, is it contagious? You know, what he has?" John cringed, taken aback by Mindfang’s sharp laughter, it was almost sadistic.
"No no, nothing serious like that. We'll be fine!" she loftily reassured, leaning against the side of the ship, looking out to the distant horizon. "The only one suffering here is, well, The Sufferer himself! Oh, he makes for such pitiful bait, don't you think?"
There was something that John didn’t get at first, information pouring into his brain as she waited for an answer— some malicious quip at The Signless’ heretical status, probably.
It took the words Matesprit and flushed to appear in his mind for it to finally click. John wondered at the implications for just a moment— how in the hell did this shit happen? To him?— before answering her question. "I guess? Haven't really considered that since, you know, I'm very happy with my current partner!" There, nailed it.
Mindfang stayed silent for a moment, which in turn had John shifting in place and offering one of his usual grins. He tensed inwardly, fuck, was he not in character enough? It was only when she let out a little chuckle that he let himself relax, but when the cerulean suddenly grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him close, there was a sudden flash of warning in his mind before her lips were on his.
The kiss was biting, unapologetic and overall demanding; he had to work hard to smother his instant reaction, shivers of disgust and a hasty shove to separate them. It lasted for only a moment, a distinctly horrible one, and John was left panting as he felt his cheeks flush and Mindfang grin, her teeth scraping against his swollen bottom lip.
"Cute. Too cute. I could just eat you up and gnaw on your bones for how cute you are," she crooned, her hand grabbing at his face and squeezing before letting go.
"I'm not worried about that, oh no. I know that our pity runs deeper than the oceans we travel in," and yet there was a but in there somewhere that she didn’t voice. John didn’t know if he wanted to prod at that either, his alternate self was almost definitely better off cutting her loose.
Instead, he pressed on with his original question. "Okay, but if it isn't contagious, then why is he being isolated? Not just imprisoned?"
Mindfang, in all her magnanimous glory, rolled her eyes so far up they almost fell out of her head. It would serve her right, John thought angrily as she sighed and pulled away from the bannister.
"Well, if you must know dear, who am I to deny you such a request?" She made a motion for John to follow, and he gladly fell into step with her.
"I'm not surprised that you're unfamiliar with the sickness he has, seeing as it's been something found more common in Eastern Alternia," she started, her voice more subdued when passing by the other crew members. "I witnessed it before you even joined us, and it wasn't pretty. It never is! Honestly being so pathetic as to contract such a pitiful disease?" Her one visible eye rolled dramatically. "To never have your feelings reciprocated is never pleasant, but to die from it? Shame on them at that point."
John made a face. "How does someone even die from emotions?"
"Exactly! I was asking myself the same thing as I traveled through the Eastern seas, but apparently it's a thing," she sighed in exasperation. "The term for it is Hanahaki, and the symptoms are so pathetic I could cry! Like, you see it manifest as a cough right? You noticed how it rattles the poor little mutant’s body whenever he gets them?"
There was a moment where John didn’t answer, remembering the way Karkat's cough never lessened throughout their travels. How the attacks actually got worse every time they hopped from universe to universe.
Something cold settled in the pit of his stomach. "Is that the only symptom?" he dared to ask, needing to know more. Hoping that Mindfang would leave it at that.
"Oh no no, far from it actually!" Mindfang became more vocal as they moved away from the rest of the crew. "It starts as a simple coughing fit right? Silly little thing that can be overlooked…up until it stays consistent." Her eyes narrowed. "It never leaves. It turns wet and sticky with the blood of the diseased. Pretty disgusting really, especially when the thorns and petals start mixing with it."
She started to go below deck, and John continued to follow with a frown.
"Wait, petals-"
"Ah ah ah, I'm not done," she said condescendingly, wiggling a finger to shut him up. "It doesn't stop with just measly petals, blood and thorns. No no, once they start spitting out full blooms is when the real danger sets in. That's when they know their time is almost up."
Mindfang stopped in her tracks, then pointed at a bucket just outside of the cell where they were keeping Karkat.
"See?"
John did see, and for once he had nothing to say. Nothing to ask. The sight of the pail on the floorboards gave him an instant revulsion, the depravity of it made his troll self want to look away, but he couldn’t, he had to look closer, had to see.
Bloodied flowers stuck in the bottom of the wooden bucket had his disgust transform into full blown nausea, dread curling around his stomach as he noticed the White Lilies tainted with crimson stains. The other flowers, Lily in shape, were a distinct bronze color with bright orange stripes.
Seeing the horrified confusion on his face, Mindfang let out a breathy laugh.
"I did say it was quite a pathetic sight. I will admit, I've never seen the white ones, but those right there? Those are Alternian Bronze Lilies. Lillum Pyropus." She let out a huff before looking back at John.
"Do you at least know about its meaning?"
The blank look he gave her was answer enough, and she reached up to pat his cheek. "Don't worry my love, not everyone is as knowledgeable as myself-"
"Oh you're so full of shit."
The sudden third voice startled John from his thoughts and had his cerulean partner letting out a lethal chuckle as she looked over to the cell. There, in all his heretical glory, was The Signless— now Karkat— laying back against the ship’s hull, his arms chained above him.
"Am I now? Tell me, who is it again that got caught?" she reminded him, kicking the bars to let them rattle in warning. "Who is just the perfect, pathetic little vermin that is dying right now over feelings that will never be reciprocated?" Her grin was sharp and shark-like. "Why speak up now, when all you've done is stay silent?"
John couldn’t help but steal a glance at the mutant, swallowing at the sight. Karkat presented in such a vulnerable state, his cloak spread apart to reveal his body, lean muscles contained by tight leggings. Any other time John would've teased and poked fun at him, but for some reason it…didn't look bad?
The black fabric clung to him, long legs and a firm chest, red stripes running down his torso until they stopped at his belt. It all accentuated his body, and, instead of making him look silly, he looked— well. He was actually pulling it off. Karkat looked like a notorious rebel with a cause, not the soft yet prickly kitty cat in a cable knit sweater John knew.
He looked really good, and why did John suddenly feel his cheeks flare at the thought—
"Oh please, save me from your inane insults. If these are the last words I'll be hearing then you may as well finish the job now, save myself the misery of hearing your incessant rambling."
"Yeah? Well maybe I want you to suffer just that much longer! Give you a taste of your own medicine when it comes to annoying sermons—"
Yeah no, John was not having it.
"Okay guys, time out!" He raised his voice, catching the attention of the bickering trolls before sighing, running a hand through his hair. "Just…tell me please? As much as I love your fire Fangs, ignore the prisoner and finish your thought," he offered, ignoring the narrowed eyes Karkat was throwing at him while his matesprit's brightened up at her nickname and smiled.
"Wellllllll, if you insist dear," she purred, now turning her back to Karkat, facing him once more. "As I was saying before getting rudely interrupted—"
"Fuck you."
"Flowers have meanings beyond what simpletons might know. A secret language you see?" She bent, picking up one of the bloody lilies with two of her fingers and sighed in false sympathy. "This one? Our prisoner has unrequited pitch feelings, someone he hates more than anything and anyone in the world. Someone that doesn't feel the same, and yet he feels strongly for."
Mindfang was quick to drop the flower back into the bucket, flicking candy red blood off her pristine fingers. At the same time, John felt something finally click.
There was only so much he understood about the quadrants, especially with how it was presented back when he was a kid. He didn't think much of it, there was too much going on in the game, and it didn’t occur to him to pursue his feelings for anyone. Even as their lives played out on Earth C, he never felt that draw, that desire to pursue anything romantic with anyone, quadrant or no.
Then Karkat happened. The sudden visit, the wrongness of the phrase that set off his retcon powers. Throughout the multitude of universes, it made him realize just how much he cared about the troll.
No, not just care. John, for all intents and purposes, didn’t see Karkat as just a friend anymore. If anything his feelings ran much deeper than that.
Finding out that Karkat was actively dying because of his own feelings made him desperate, but apparently he hadn’t hidden it well. Mindfang was quick to make a noise of sudden understanding, and something cold slithered down his spine as her single eye widened.
"I don't know about the white ones, seeing as they're a species I've never seen before, but usually white is for purity. Pure intentions, perhaps romantic emotions in this case?" Her tone was curious, like a scientist cataloging a foreign specimen. "A hate that transcends the quadrants…Oh, you poor fool,"
She turned to Karkat once more, who was doing his best to stare her down in righteous fury, his fists balled up and rattling his chains.
"You have fallen serendipitously for this mysterious fellow," and her words were fact, without room for argument. Karkat continued to glare hatefully, refusing to refute her assessment. The look she gave John was full of triumph.
"A tragedy written in the stars."
Mindfang did a sarcastic little swoon, putting the back of one of her hands to her forehead as she leaned back with a coquettish sigh. No one laughed, but she giggled to herself regardless, as though she made some great joke. She stood up straight again and looked at John with sadistic glee, like a cat about to pounce on a bird with a broken wing. Closing the distance, Mindfang leaned in to press her lips against John's cheek.
"Keep an eye on him, would you my love? I have a new entry in my logbook to write. Lillum Larua. Apt name for the other flower, hm?" She patted his face, over where she kissed him, smearing the sticky residue her mouth left behind. John noticed the look of satisfaction on her face before she turned to leave, only giving Karkat his full attention after Mindfang had climbed the steps out of the brig.
A charged silence settled between them, and John didn’t even know where to begin. His words stuck in his throat, a million thoughts fighting each other to the forefront. Karkat wasn’t looking at him, turning his head into the hood of his cloak, shading the rest of his face.
Eventually, one question broke through.
"Why?"
Karkat had the audacity to look confused and John was not having it.
"No, don't. Don't you even dare! Why didn't you tell me that this was happening?!" His voice cracked with emotion as it grew louder. Knowing that the waves of the ocean would help hide his volume, he didn’t lower his tone.
When he didn’t get an answer, John walked up to the cell and reached out to grip the bars tightly. "Why didn't you tell me that you were this sick? That you were dying?!"
His shoulders shook, shaking his head as if the motions would make any of it better, hating how helpless he felt, how angry he was that this was how he found out. From Marquis Spinerette Mindfang.
"John—"
"No. Shut up," he was quick to silence Karkat as he felt his teeth grind together, fury surging in John’s veins in the face of his excuses. "Is…is that why you went to visit me? Were you going to tell me, what? That you were leaving?"
The truth of Karkat's visit resonated through John as he forced back sudden tears. A sudden goodbye that felt wrong enough where his retcon powers activated. There was so much he needed to know, so much he needed from Karkat, and the fact that he was still quiet had John reaching out through the bars and towards him.
"Karkat, please!" John pleaded, desperate to have Karkat face whatever the hell was going on to cause the disease, Hanahaki. “Every single jump had you coughing and it got worse. The way you brushed it off, the sudden collapse during the sorority party?! Karkat I need to know just…why? Why are you being so dismissive about a fucking illness that is actively killing you!”
More silence, and John felt his frustration mount ever higher, ready to snap more at his friend before noticing the troll finally opened his mouth to respond.
Then, the sudden pull at his being silenced him, and whatever Karkat was going to say never came out. John’s eyes widened, and Karkat jerked his face to him, looking up to share the same expression.
Concrete dust exploded in the air, smoke belching out of buildings as they collapsed. Loud screams of steel girders as they bent and broke echoed out for miles, glass shattering and raining down from on high. John gulped down air as he ran, weaving through boulders of smashed concrete and overturned cars, gasoline stinging his nose as it leaked onto the street and burned.
His heart thudded in his chest a mile a minute. His aspect was out of his reach, but he didn’t let himself hesitate as he ran like the wind.
The city was unfamiliar, and with adrenaline pumping through his veins John could barely parse what Fate was telling him. Seattle; he’d never even been to Seattle on his Earth, and all the destruction? The planet was being invaded, and three guesses who was behind that little endeavor.
John took a running leap over a yawning chasm cutting through the road and tumbled, rolling over his shoulder and standing up on shaky legs— definitely sprinting faster than he ever dared dream possible without The Windy Thing.
He took a hard left down an alley, the harsh light from the sun casting it into bleak shadows, and practically fell against a dumpster. He wheezed, his lungs burning like fucking fire, and hacked out a cough that felt like being goddamn stabbed. He squeezed his eyes shut as he spat out pure concrete dust—
Karkat…
If the pain John felt at that moment was anywhere near what he had been hiding? He could barely let himself even think about it. His heart twisted harshly in his ribs, anguish and horror sapping his strength, making him want to fall to his knees.
It was devastating despair that swallowed him whole, his entire being like sludge as the thoughts swirled in his mind. How could he hide this from me? John grit his teeth and banged a fist against the metal shell of the dumpster, the only thing keeping him upright. The clang of beaten metal echoed out, but the sound blended into the din of destruction, no way anyone would notice it. He couldn’t bet on that, though.
Staying put wasn’t an option, he had to keep moving. If he was found before he was supposed to be, the timeline was doomed. There was a defector among the ranks, and John had a feeling he knew who— as it would be anyone else. If John was too hard for him to find, there would be bad shit coming their way.
He couldn’t really gather his resolve, but John was a champion at burying everything for something bigger than himself. This was no exception, just another game he had to win…there were no other options.
As he turned to exit the alley though, his blood ran cold. A large silhouette blocked the way out, filling up the already dark space with inky blackness. Two horns were atop its head, and John took an involuntary step back. He had to escape. His mind focused on the only goal he could, ice in his veins as he stood and stared. Waited for an opening.
It was only when the massive shape moved forward that the light shifted, and John crumbled, his voice hoarse with grief as he croaked.
“Karkat!”
He was huge. It was impossible to describe him in any other way. Karkat had always been comfortably short; John was long since used to looking down, seeing big red peepers glaring up at him and grinning cheekily back. The massive troll was almost taller than him now, a single scarlet eye shining through the dark, cutting right through him. His grey skin was heavily scarred, a severe cut twisting through his jawline and white fanged teeth bared in a fierce snarl.
As he approached his black cloak snapped in the wind, the fabric covered in the same dust that John had just hacked up. The wreckage of the city coated them both, streaks of white smearing across Karkat’s muscular chest. There was no sign of sickness now; The Signless’ frailty was missing from Karkat’s current form, but John felt no comfort.
Through every universe, Karkat’s condition had worsened, because of his unrequited emotions. He was dying from them. Tears sprang to John’s eyes as Karkat approached, his stride confident and predatory.
With no hesitation, he couldn’t help the words that tumbled from his mouth.
“You are such a dumb motherfucker!”
The words seemed to shock Karkat, halting him midstep, expression openly surprised. His one eye was wide and blinking, mouth agape.
John wasn’t done.
“Fuck you!” He spat, despair twisting into anger, so severe he couldn’t suppress his body’s shaking as he yelled. “You were just gonna leave me? Say bye, and then…what? Die somewhere?! And I’d never even know what happened to you? How you felt?!”
Karkat grimaced like John slapped him, looking away and gritting his teeth. He opened his mouth, but John didn’t give him a chance to respond.
“You trying to do that shit split the timeline, Karkat! We can’t– I can’t– do this without you, don’t you fucking know that?” His hands balled into fists. His entire body felt like a live wire, fury vibrating through every atom.
It took a moment before the troll finally spoke.
“Do what without me, John?” Karkat said lowly, barely audible over the chaos of destruction around them. “Live a happy life? I’m doomed no matter what. I’m not a god like you, my death is an inevitability. It’s either now or someday, and I get to fucking choose so–”
“So no! You don’t get to decide how I feel!” John screamed, anguish rattling through his bruised lungs.
Karkat snarled at John and yelled right back. “You don’t! You don’t feel!” He raised a gauntlet-clad hand to slash across the air in front of him, as though cutting through John’s words. “I’m sick with how you don’t fucking feel!”
“How the hell would you know?! You didn’t tell me, you were going to run away!”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Karkat roared, banging on his armored chest with both fists. “You can’t possibly comprehend the depths of this shit!”
John wasn’t sure what he was going to say next, but whatever he had on the tip of his tongue stayed trapped behind his teeth. Karkat collapsed into hideous gasping retches. They weren’t even coughs anymore; it was like whatever poison that had infected his lungs was tearing its way out.
He spat bright, scarlet blood onto his shaking hands, and John finally sank to his knees at the sight of the stained blooms. Huge and perfect flowers, bright orange and white. So many, too many to count, falling from Karkat’s hands and onto the asphalt below.
White Lillies, for purity, and Alternian Bronze Lillies, for deep hatred.
His lips trembled when it finally stopped, blood oozing from them and dripping down his jawline. Karkat’s bright eye glimmered in pure loathing as he stared into John’s own vibrant blue, and he raised his shaking hands. Presenting the physical manifestation of his true feelings as if in offering.
“This is it. Every single fucked up feeling I have for you. And it’s killing me.” The syllables stumbled out, cracked and raspy like they were cutting him open. “I hate you so fucking much I can’t even hate you anymore.”
For a moment, the world stopped, and it was just the two of them in the darkened alleyway. The silence was suffocating. John couldn’t take it, the confession had him stumbling over his own words.
“You love me.”
Karkat bowed his head and fell apart, dropping his cursed bouquet in a pool of blood he spilled just from loving John. It tore him up so much his body couldn’t take it. The intensity so severe it had to manifest as something physical, realer than real, and impossible to ignore.
John could puke from the intensity of it all. He reached out and touched him, fingers barely daring to reach Karkat’s skin, scarred and ashen from war.
“I–”
“Don’t” Karkat growled, the rumble deep in his chest. “Don’t tell me you feel shit you don’t, because you can’t.”
“I can.” He dug his hands into the black fabric of Karkat’s shirt, wanting to shake him, needing him to listen. “I do.”
A simple shake of his head, and he looked back up, a devastating smile curling bloody lips. Karkat was so fucking impossible, he was infuriating and smart and ridiculous, John couldn’t stand him. He couldn’t live without him, he couldn’t bear the thought of a world without Karkat in it.
He thought John couldn’t feel the same? “You are the stupidest asshole I have ever met.”
John yanked at Karkat’s chest until their mouths crashed together, tasting the copper of his blood in his mouth, creasing his brow in determination. It was foul, but the press of their lips was more right than anything he’d ever done. He couldn’t imagine pulling away, and Karkat gave just as good as he got. Clawing at John’s waist until his shirt shredded, the sound of fabric tearing loud in his ears. Bombs exploded in the distance, the shockwaves rattling through them both, but it didn’t register as John kissed Karkat deeper and deeper.
He was jolting under John’s hands, like each lick into Karkat’s mouth sent volts of electricity through his body. Hot hands gripped John’s skin, claws rending him and cutting him open, and John hissed with the pain. Pulling away was out of the question— he wasn’t leaving Karkat for even a second. Karkat was coming alive under him, breathing heavier and clearer, pushing closer until they were completely plastered together.
His eyes were shut, uncaring to the world around them both. Fuck them, John thought as he nipped Karkat’s bloody lips, Who cares what happens to this doomed timeline. Every single universe could crash around their ears, nothing was separating him from Karkat again.
He would find him every time. Find a way to save him.
The bright white light of the void cracked through them both, splitting their atoms into base particles, but John and Karkat did not pull away.
Dust didn’t even have time to settle, soft orange lamplight illuminating the space they’d left with their shadows still on the walls. Steaming mugs were still left on the countertop, the warm scent of tea filling the air. It was like they never left. John’s hand was still on Karkat’s shoulder, the soft wool of his sweater warm under his fingers, stopping him from leaving.
The look in his eyes, big and red, and for a moment John wondered if it happened at all.
Silence stretched, the echoes of crumbling buildings still ringing in his ears, but John didn’t have the nerve to break it.
Everything was laid out between them. They’d righted the wrong in the timeline and returned to the original like nothing had happened. Except no, because everything had happened.
John could still taste Karkat’s blood on his tongue, the kiss they shared in the alley replaying in his mind on repeat. He felt like he was still there; the anguish of his heart beating hard against his ribs, the strength in Karkat’s arms, the heat of their bodies as the world fell apart around them. It had been real, every single moment of it, even as they stood in their original, normal, Earth once more.
Something in him couldn’t help but doubt, though. Did Karkat remember, or were his retcon powers what let him maintain himself as things changed? Would Karkat just think nothing happened, that microsecond they lived a hundred lifetimes passing him by like a leaf on the wind?
He knew his uncertainty was obvious in his face, and he searched Karkat’s own for some sign of recognition, clarity, something. That Karkat really had been there with him, every single step of the way.
“And I thought I was the dramatic asshole who reads too many romance novels.” Karkat said dryly. “A bloody kiss in a warzone, John? Really?”
“You were dying!” John couldn’t believe this! “There was a lot going on! And you kissed back, as I recall, you didn’t exactly object!”
A sputtering laugh erupted from Karkat’s lips, and John had to be a sucker because it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Mirth made his eyes sparkle, his sharp teeth shining bright in a wide smile as he laughed deep in his chest. It was a good sound, and John wasn’t biased at all when he inwardly marked it as the best laugh he’d ever heard. He could spend his whole life trying to repeat the conditions, try to find exactly what would draw that sound out, and never ever get tired of it.
It was only when pale pink tears sprang to Karkat’s eyes that John got worried, lifting his other hand to Karkat’s elbow and drawing him in closer. Concern clear in his expression, John wretched as Karkat went from chuckles to little sobs, and Karkat didn’t push him away.
“Thought I was done for— I made my peace with it, was all ready to go but.” His voice was hoarse, filled to the brim with emotion, but he didn’t dare to look away from John. “I couldn’t just leave without seeing you one more time. Had to torture myself with it, maybe. I dunno.” Karkat’s mouth twisted into a self deprecating smile. “And then-”
“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt sooner?” John asked, as gentle as he could.
He huffed and rolled his eyes. “I didn’t exactly have high hopes you were even capable of returning my infatuation, Mister I-Am-Not-A-Homosexual.”
John couldn’t help his exasperation. “I was thirteen! Are you ever going to let that go?!”
“Excuse you! I was confessing something to an alien, and you threw it in my face!” The words were emphasized by Karkat poking John’s bellybutton. “You get to live with the consequences forever, motherfucker.”
“Fine.” John said, heedless. “Then promise me. Promise me you’ll always be here, never letting me forget about all the stupid shit I say.”
Karkat just shook his head, something like hope filling his expression. “Fine. With the amount of trash you eject from your bellowsacs, it’d be a full time job. I’ll stay with you. That cool?”
“It’s perfect.” John grinned, and pulled Karkat flush to his body, hugging him tight. “It’s just right.”
"Honestly Karkat, if this was what would come from you withholding information I would've…"
Karkat had long since stopped bracing himself for the lectures, her grumbling never stopped, barely disguised malcontent as she clicked through his chart for the fifty third time. Karkat felt the full weight of Jane's stare over her glasses, even as he looked away and bit back his own retorts. He knew not to argue, her whole thing came from healing others. Life players could be scary as fuck, especially when their patients didn't heed their warnings.
"It's fine! I mean, it's going to be fine right?"
John standing up for him, to his own ancestor no less, shouldn't make him feel as relieved as it did, nor the way he snuck his hand into Karkat's own and squeezed it in reassurance.
The Lifebound player simply sighed, reaching up to massage two fingers against her temple before carefully choosing her words. "Yes, John. Fortunately enough he will be fine, but be that as it may, it could've gone worse. A lot worse,"
Jane didn’t blink as she gave them both a severe look, and the magnitude of what she said wasn’t lost on Karkat. John though, he just held his nanna’s stare, unintimidated.
Karkat had to fight down a smile, it would definitely kick up another tirade, and he wanted to leave already.
After a beat John simply turned to Karkat and yeah, okay, he could see how his plan of simply fucking off to die somewhere alone and miserable wasn't the best idea he’d ever had. Blue eyes practically sparkled as they looked down at him, like a fucking begging barkbeast, and Karkat’s insides fluttered. He hated how much he didn’t hate that face.
"Yeah well I already admitted to being a fucking shit for brains, or however your human saying goes," he relented without his usual heat.
"Your words, not mine," Jane said airily, and oh Karkat bristled at that little crack. Did he lash out like usual, though? Fuck no! After all the work John went through to actually save his useless ass? If anything the dweeb would find a way to bring him back, just to personally put Karkat in the ground.
Instead, he just looked at the packet that Jane had presented him. As he flipped through it, she explained exactly what she wanted him to do now that he was scheduled to be released from the medical facility. A proper schedule that included various physical therapy techniques for his bellowsacs: breathing retraining, respiratory muscle training, and so much more that was neatly recorded and set for him to follow daily. Jegus.
Honestly he was impressed with how much Jane knew about trollian anatomy, enough to be able to tailor a concise and structured recovery timeline for him. While Hanahaki wasn’t widely known, especially among humans, Jane hadn’t wasted time in putting together a proper rehabilitative plan…if he survived.
Really, it all banked on whether or not Karkat lived. He felt like the luckiest motherfucker in paradox space for being one of the few to do so.
"Are you sure this will help him?" John's voice was suddenly right next to Karkat's ear, and he almost flinched at how close he was. Karkat could see his brows furrow as he read through the treatment plan over his shoulder.
The look Jane gave her grandson was dangerous, and he could feel John tense beside him. "John, I know you're just looking out for Karkat. Goodness knows that you haven't left his side since we started his therapy here!"
At that John had the decency to look away with color in his cheeks. Karkat tried to ignore it, but the light pink flush warmed his skin in a way that was honestly captivating. He furtively stared for a long second, but Jane focused her attention back on him and he tensed.
"Don't skip anything in there. I mean it! Any lapse in the therapy and you will be setting yourself back on everything we have done so far. Are we clear?"
Karkat looked up at her, then at John, then back at the packet before his claws gripped just a bit too tight and he sighed. "Yes."
"Good. I will leave you to it then," and without any further threats, Jane gave them both a sweet smile as she made her way out of the room. It was only after the door shut behind her that John finally let out a relieved sigh, and Karkat ran a hand over his face as a groan settled in his chest.
"She can be…scary." Karkat could hear the way John was trying to shake it off more than reassure the troll, which just earned him an eyeroll and a nudge of an elbow into his side.
"Yeah well, I've seen scarier. Come on, let's get out of here before I start losing my metaphorical shit.” Karkat hopped off the exam table and cracked his neck. “Hate this place," he grumbled and pulled John along with his free hand, following the same path as Jane to leave the room.
When John didn’t budge after being tugged along, Karkat had to hold himself back from an outburst, turning to him and raising a brow.
"Why the fuck did you stop?"
He watched his…fuck, they were still figuring out what they were to each other— boyfriend? Not simply a kismesis or a matesprit, something in between, something greater and deeper than the sum of their parts. It was like smoke, every time he tried to get his hands around what they were, it shifted and flowed right out of his grasp again.
He really couldn’t believe his feelings were returned, reciprocated, it still seemed so unreal, impossible, but there they were, in a medical facility to treat Karkat’s lingering symptoms. The flowers were gone, John’s kiss had made them vanish, the only sign they were ever there in first place was in the x-rays Jane had taken. He was going to be fine, all thanks to John.
The man in question blinked, and then looked back where their hands were still interlocked. Karkat watched as a grin started to fucking bloom along the other's face and instantly regretted every decision ever.
"Sorry! Sorry I just…can you really blame me? Feeling happy about everything?" Karkat felt his own think pan boot up for a moment as John's expression sobered. "After everything we went through, and the fact that we pulled through…Karkat. Realizing that my feelings for you were deeper than I thought, and it helped save your life?"
By the time John finished Karkat could feel the emotion bleeding out of his words, blue eyes reflecting unshed tears. His usual scathing remarks left him as John brought his hand up and placed a chaste kiss against rough knuckles.
"Knowing that our love transcends even your own quadrants is like, the best thing that's ever happened to me."
That line snapped Karkat out of whatever state of mind he was in, all so he could punch John on his arm with a snarl. "Don’t be disgusting, the fuck is the matter with you?!"
The growl that left him drowned out John's hiss as he grabbed his arm; Karkat made a face and shoved the treatment plan in his face, and it crinkled with the force of his shove.
"I still don't see what the big deal is. You humans are so fucking melodramatic over shit like feelings and confessions-"
"You almost died?!"
"I'm still here aren't I?! The point is, John, that none of it matters now."
John looked like he wanted to protest, already opening his mouth to do so, but Karkat just reached up and covered his mouth with his hand.
"No, shut up and let me explain. Are you ready to fucking listen?" When John nodded with a raised eyebrow, the troll sighed and slowly pulled his hand away before taking a step back.
"The reason I am letting you know that this doesn't matter anymore, is because we went through all that shit in the first place, and now we're here. Together. Going through THERAPY of all things so I don't relapse—"
"Karkat, I wouldn't let you-"
"I KNOW! I know…" He should have known better than to shout. There was a lingering cough after the sudden outburst, but all he could do was ride it out and shake his head at himself. Karkat let John fret and make worrying noises in the back of his throat for a bit, then pushed him away again. When he spoke again, his voice was scratchy and hoarse. "I get it now, and you're so fucking annoying about it that sometimes, I want to pull my hair with how clingy you are…"
His words trailed off as he looked away, but still felt John’s eyes on him. "Understand that this? Someone actually reciprocating these unnatural feelings? I'm not used to this John! I'm not used to people actually staying."
The admission weighed heavily on Karkat’s heart, and he couldn’t look back, letting his claws dig into his palms. There was a moment where he worried that he'd said too much, opened up a wound that might never close completely, all of his past failures washing over him yet again. It was only when he felt John's hand press against his cheek that he dared to chance a look and watch as the other simply smiled fondly in response. If Karkat were any other troll he would've felt nauseated at the sight.
"Karkat, I promise you that this isn't a fleeting moment. If I have to tell you that I'm never leaving you, that you can't get rid of me, and remind you time and time again–-"
"Eugh, please don't."
"The point is! I'm not going anywhere!" and all of a sudden the troll was being pulled into John's arms, being hugged like their lives depended on it— hell, it actually might. "I love you Karkat, and now you have to deal with that forever."
The way John said the words had him burying his face into his chest, muffling a scream that was building up in his thoracic cavity. John’s laughter did nothing to ease his anger, but the way he was being held helped calm him down enough to lean into the embrace without much of a fight.
Words were muffled in John's shirt, a silent confession that he wasn’t ready to admit to. Something like contentment rolled through him though, he didn’t need to be heard, John had him now. In his arms, in his blood pusher, in his life. They would work up to every word. They had all the time in the world.