A quick story I had to whip up for English. This isn't my first Homestuck fic, just the first one I've posted :P Personally, I wanted to do more with this, but I didn't want my teacher to flip out over how long it was gonna turn out to be. Might elaborate on it more later though.

AU, Humanstuck, Gamzee & Tavros are about 25-ish and have a son (adopted); Gamzee's father is supposedto be portrayed as The Grand Highblood, the CEO portrayed as The Condesce/The Imperial Condesce/etc. etc. (as you might have guessed.)

Growing up, I hated my father. Sure he was on the highest rung he could be at, being the CEO's right hand man of a big corporate company, but he had failed as a father. He laughed at me when I started wearing clown make-up to hide the ugly scars from my first – and worst – bar fight, spittle flying onto my face as he did so. I was such a screw-up in his eyes. He even made fun of me when I told him I actually wanted to go to school and do something with myself.

"What would anyone want with a two-bit clown freak like you?" he constantly screamed at me, laughing all the while like it was the most hilarious thing in the world. Yet he would still wonder why I kept myself locked away, music blaring to drown out the hideous laughter. Drugs helped... So I thought. They kept me away from reality long enough to crawl into bed at night and let sleep take care of the rest. They were expensive though. At first I thought my dad wouldn't notice, but in time he did. After that, I was on my own.

The day I finally snapped was when he actually hit me. Not a slap across the face, but a real punch straight to the gut. He was so sick of me being worthless, sick of seeing my face. That night I packed my duffel bag and headed out, thinking all the while that I was as sick of him as he was of me. Fair enough.

"You don't really care about me," I whispered to the night as I ran away, eager to get as far away from that place as I possibly could. Whether it was from me turning 18 soon after or because my dad never really cared, I was tremendously overjoyed; the cops never came looking for me.

.

.

I stand here now, six years later, in front of the door of my house. The one where I'm the father, where I have as much of a family as I need, and where I'm happy. I opened the door, a lazy smile on my painted face. Tavros looked at me from the couch and greeted me with a wide smile. From the kitchen came our son, Mica. Like I said, I had as much of a family as I needed and I didn't need anyone preaching to me that I was sinning for having a male fiancee and adopting a son. I was happy as could be.

"Did you do your homework?" I asked Mica, hugging him.

"Yes dad," he replied, sighing. I looked at him with a questioning look. Mica rolled his eyes and muttered 'Never mind,' under his breath as he walked to his room. I frowned, but walked to the kitchen where Tav had moved to fix dinner; it was his turn tonight.

"Everything okay, Gamzee?" Tavros asked me, a concerned look on his face. I smiled.

"Everything's fine." I reply.

"Mica's report card came today. Now before you, uh, say anything, I think it's still okay that he-"

"A B and two C's?" I asked aloud.

"Gets those grades... Gamzee, do you even know how hard he's been working? Those AP classes are far from easy, you know." Tavros retorted defensively, and I could tell it was becoming a touchy territory.

"But if he wants to go to college, then he needs to bring these up."

"Who says I even want to go to college?" Mica shouted suddenly from the kitchen doorway. He had an angered look on his face.

"Look, Mica," I started, but was cut off.

"No, dad. Do you even know how long it's been since I've actually been out? My girlfriend is about ready to break up with me because I haven't be able to hang out with her! All I've been doing is working my tail off to try and please you!" he yelled.

"Mica, we've been through this before."

"Yeah, third time this week, 15Th time this month... whatever." Mica huffed in frustration and stomped back to his room. Before I could follow him, Tavros grabbed a hold of my arm.

"Let him go. You should really, uh, let it go too."

"Tavbro, I can't. I'm just trying-"

"I know," Tavros said. "Trying to be a good father. I know what happened with your father, remember? But you have to, uh, loosen up a little."

I looked at him. "Okay... Okay. I just want him to do good." I said, hugging him.

"Me too. Me too." Tavros replied, hugging me back.

.

.

I knocked softly on Mica's door later that night, wanting to apologize.

"Mica? Mica, open the door please. I'm... sorry. I'm sorry for earlier." I said through the door. There wasn't a reply.

"Mica. Open then door." I called, reaching for the doorknob. I was surprised to find it locked. Sighing, I went into the kitchen and fished a key from the back of a drawer.

"Hey, Mica, come on. You can't stay mad at me forever..." I whispered, unlocking his door and letting it swing open. The air in his room was unusually cold and the lights were off. As silently as I could, I made my way over to his bed in the dark. Clicking on the light next to his bed, I felt my stomach churn harshly. Next thing I knew, I was back in my room and panting. Tavros was sitting bolt upright and looking worried.

"Gamzee! What's wrong?" he called, getting out of bed.

"Mica... he's … Gone..." I choked out, collapsing onto the floor. I couldn't hear anything besides my own sobs and I hardly registered the fact that Tavros had wrapped his arms around me. All I could think of was 'It's my fault'. I pushed him too hard and he had run away, just like I did. My vision was severely blurred and I could feel make-up run down my face. When I felt like I had calmed down enough, I got up and went back to Mica's room, Tavros trailing me the whole way with a phone in his hands. I dimly thought of the police as I walked into Mica's room. I carefully looked around for anything that might let me know where he had went.

"Gamzee..." Tavros gasped from behind me. I spun around and went over to Mica's desk, where Tavros was standing with a hand to his mouth. Tears rolled down his cheeks. I looked down and saw a single note tapped to the desktop; 'You don't really care about me.'

"Why?" I asked the space around me, feeling my tears start again. The cold wind that I now knew came from the open window blew harshly against my side, telling me that I already knew the answer.