Wow, it's been a while. Hi, fanfic! Seeing as it has been a long while, and this is my first time writing something for Homestuck, just thought I'd leave a shout out. Also, please, this account is old, no one calls me Pie-san anymore. I go by HappiKatt, preferably just plain Katt. Since it is me writing this, and it's not a one-shot, it's pretty much guaranteed to involve MUCH torture for the main two characters. My last note is that I'm not used to dropping the F-bomb. Ever. So if the swearing seems light, that's why. And guys. I think I'm actually going to finish this one. How crazy is that.


God it's cold. No, no stop. Don't you think about that now, think about anything else. Think about anything, anything at all, just don't think about the cold, or how tired you are, or how easy it would be to just close your eyes and drift away...

Don't think about any of that. Think about something else, come on...The first thing that comes to mind...

Fuck it's cold no dammit not that.

You opt to compromise, since clearly your current situation is all you can think of. You struggle to remember how you wound up here, how you ended up this exhausted, frigid mess sitting here in the land of who-knows-where, trying desperately not to fall asleep.

You were safe, and warm. And angry. You fought with your roommate. (Why do people call two people sharing a house roommates, anyway? It makes sense in an apartment, but a whole fucking house? Where's the fucking sense in that? Fuck, it's cold...) For the life of you - well, what's left of the life in you anyhow - you just can't remember what you were fighting about. But whatever it was, he pissed you off and you walked out of that house, furious and maybe just a little bit hurt. You just started walking.

You suppose now, in retrospect, that maybe walking out in a blind fury, so close to sundown, in late December, dressed in nothing but a light (if oversized on your scrawny frame) hoodie and jeans was probably not your best fucking idea. In fact, in retrospect, you could probably fill a thousand-page book with ideas you've had that are better than this one.

But in any case, you were mad, and maybe what happened had hurt you just a little bit, but not a lot because you're not a baby, you're strong. And whatever happened couldn't have shaken you. (At least, that's what you tell yourself. It did hurt, really, but you're never going to admit that.) It did, however, distract you enough for you to not notice right away that it had started snowing.

And then, suddenly, the snow was everywhere.

Okay, you'll admit, whatever happened must have pushed you a little over the edge. Because you didn't take the fucking hint. You stubbornly refused to be the first to give in to whatever stupid fight you started and just kept walking. You tried to ignore the wind and the cold, even as the snow started soaking through your too-thin shoes and your too-thin socks, and just kept walking.

Maybe you actually forgot at around this point that you were supposed to be mad. For a moment, anyway. You forgot for just a moment what you were doing out here, other than freezing your ass off. And then your cell phone rang, and you looked at the name, and everything came back.

You should have answered him. You should have picked up the fucking phone.

You didn't, though. Your pride got the better of you, and you stubbornly shoved the phone back in your pocket.

Another really fucking stupid idea for that book.

It took a good fifteen minutes for you to come to the conclusion that, between the dark, and the snow, and the fact that you haven't been in this neighborhood very long, you had no fucking idea where you were.

You weren't lost, never. You just...weren't sure where you were. That's all.

And you didn't get scared, not for one instant.

You decide to stop lying to yourself. You were fucking terrified. And freezing. And suddenly, your pride didn't mean a damn thing, the fight didn't mean a damn thing, all you wanted was to be warm and safe and not probably going to die alone in the snow.

Your roommate kept calling you, more and more often, until your phone was almost constantly ringing. (In fact, it's still ringing, in your pocket. He's determined this time.) You tried to answer him this time, you really did, but it was too late - your hands were shaking uncontrollably and you almost dropped your phone trying to find the fucking button. You were so busy trying to cling to the damn thing, you didn't see the snow drift making itself at home on the fucking sidewalk until it tripped you, and you fell in.

Getting up out of the snow was hell. You were already tired from walking around so much, you were already freezing, and now on top of everything, you were soaked. The cold started creeping deeper, beyond skin and muscle, and your body started to ache. It took everything you had and then some, but you managed to drag yourself to a nearby bus stop. You knew, somewhere in the back of your mind, that there was too much snow, that the buses wouldn't be running this late even if there was no snow, but all you could bring yourself to care about was that it was a place to rest. The bus stop had a roof, three walls, and a bench, and that was enough for you.

It's where you are now, curled up, knees against your chest, hands tucked into your jacket pockets. You're so cold, it hurts to breathe, and you can't think straight anymore. Your bones feel like they've been replaced by solid ice, your blood feels like a cheap gas station slushie, and your hurt everywhere.

You're losing it. Everything's fading in and out, and you're starting to lose it. It's really fucking cold out.

Somehow one sane thought floats through your mind, and you just barely manage to cling on to it.

Don't fall asleep.

Don't fall asleep.

Don't fall asleep.

Don't fall asleep.

Don't fall asleep.

Don't fall...

Don't...

Just don't fall...


Perspectives will switch between Karkat and Gamzee, in that order. And I'll always update two chapters whenever I do. Because I decided that's how I'm doing this thing darnit and I am sticking to it.