I wrote this awhile and never posted it here for some reason.
Your cellphone rings and you grab for it without looking away from your movie. You glance at the caller ID and see that it's John. You turn down the volume on your movie before swapping the answer button.
"Hey Kitty." You frown slightly as John uses his new favorite endearment for you.
"John I hate that fucking pet name." You grumble and feel your face heat when he chuckles softly on the other end.
"You are so lying, I know for a fact that you love that particular pet name." His voice ends on a playful note and you notice the emphasize he puts on love.
Your face heats up when you remember the last time he used it. "Fuck, no John, you wait until you get home because I cannot handle you right now." He softly laughs and you roll your eyes.
"Just calling you out on your bullshit Karkat." You laugh loudly at that, to make sure he knows just how right he isn't, though he is right and you're pretty sure he knows it.
You finally get tired of fake laughing and you can almost see the knowing grin on your husband's face.
"So when are you leaving?"
"In about an hour, just sitting in the lobby waiting for the plane to board." He drones and you know how he hates these waits.
"Stop being such a wimp, you'll be on that plane in some shitty seat soon, probably next to a crying asshole and its asshole parent and before you know it you'll be here in my arms, and yes we're watching a romcom tomorrow and snuggling, and yeah I might cry like a bitch, and yes you better hold me." He laughs and you smile.
"Wow, sounds like an ideal welcome home plan, though I think we might need to add some tender loving care into that agenda." You slap your forehead with your free hand and almost choke on your spit when you laugh, God he can be such a dork.
"If the last time we talked didn't make it obvious what was going to happen when you got back, there is no help for you man."
"The last time we talked." He hums almost as if in thought, and you know he remembers. "That was fun, and I did make some promises that I really should keep."
John using his sexy voice is a thing that shouldn't be happening and you groan to make sure he knows just how much it shouldn't be happening. It's been a week and holy fuck if you can't wait until he finally gets back.
"Alright I got the message; I'll save all the fun ideas for later." You smile and sigh.
"So how long is the flight gonna be?"
"Little under twelve hours…"
"Damn that's a long ass plane ride." You hate it.
"Eh, it's gonna be night so I'll be sleeping through most of it."
"As long as you're not sitting next to an annoying little shit." You remind him and he snickers.
"Heaven forbid I have to sit near a horrid baby." If that ain't sarcasm at its finest.
"Yeah okay buddy, I know what I'm talking about, I've experienced it firsthand." You're oh so serious.
"Of course I'd never question you, my dear sweet lovely darling." You roll your eyes yet again; you're not even going to humor his smartass this time.
"Just…I really miss you" You know you're changing the subject completely, but you really do miss him and damn if you're not hating his job right now.
"I miss you too Karkat." You can hear it, the silent apology, the fact that his job always has him gone, that he wishes he was there with you.
"Fuck it, we're watching two romcoms when you get back, and I don't want to hear any shit from you about it." He laughs and you smile.
"I trust you'll choose wisely."
You fall into character easily. "Of course fair husband, as if you'd have any reason to doubt me."
"But of course."
"Indeed."
"Indubitable."
"Quite." You both break out in fits of giggles.
"I think I might be scaring some people." He finally says and you snort at that.
"I don't doubt that."
"What a lovely thing to say."
"You know it."
You hear a ding in the background and a voice notifying them that boarding has now started. "Well, looks like they're starting a little early."
"Alright text or call me on the plane whenever."
"I'll make sure to tell you who I'm sitting next to."
"Good." You say with a smirk.
"I love you Karkat and I can't wait to see you."
"I love you too." You hear a kiss and send a kiss back. You know there is probably someone there looking at him weirdly and you're glad he doesn't care.
"Alright I'll text you in a little while."
"Okay, love you, bye." He says a quick bye before hanging up and you feel that familiar sadness that you've grown familiar with over the years. You want to hold him, kiss him, and tell him you love him over and over. You remind yourself you only have to wait until tomorrow and you'll have him back.
"Fuck." You turn back to the television and don't really watch the movie. You know what happens already and it's pretty cheesy, but you cry every time. Now you can't stop thinking about John and how much you'd love to hug him right now.
You wish teleporting was a real thing, damn.
You shift on the couch and stretch out. It's a little pass your usually 6pm dinner, but you feel too comfortable to get up at the moment. You think about what you should cook, maybe some lasagna, or a pizza.
You consider your options as the time ticks away and the movie comes to an end. You finally get up, yawning as you make your way to the kitchen. You turn the oven on and decide on lasagna, you know John loves it, and leftovers are the best, especially reheated and topped with extra cheese.
You gather all the ingredients and place them on the counter. Your phone chirps and you look at the text.
ha no babies around me.
YOU JUST GOT LUCKY.
every single time, i think you just have shitty luck with plane seating.
YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT, CAN'T BELIEVE WE SOLVED THE FUCKING MYSTERY THAT FAST, SOMEONE GET THIS MAN AN AWARD.
ouch that hurts.
IT WAS MEANT TO HURT.
ANYWAYS I'M COOKING SPINACH LASAGNA FOR LUNCH AND DINNER TOMMOROW.
planning ahead i see, good idea.
SHUT IT.
hehe okay, i'll text you later.
ALRIGHT. 3
3
You smile and drop your phone back in your pocket. You turn on some music and start preparing the food. It doesn't take long until you have the lasagna ready for the oven and you pop it in. You set the timer and clean up the mess.
You decide you have enough time for a shower and go to your room. You pull off your cloths, placing your phone on the bed and walk to your bathroom. The Mirror greets you with reality and you look yourself over. You'll never understand what John saw in you, but you know that without him you'd be the self-hating fuck that he'd met years ago.
You still annoy yourself daily, but it's normal and you've come to appreciate yourself. Whenever you do happen to get down John always reassures you that you're perfect. You turn away from the mirror and get in the shower. Standing aside as the water heats up, you relax as you slowly walk under the stream and hum in content. You grab the soap and start washing yourself off.
You play the conversation over in your mind and laugh. God he is so silly sometimes, but you just love it. Because he is more than just silly, he's sweet, gentle, an asshole, and he knows just what to say and where to touch to make you feel special.
Your mind drifts to the other conversation you two had. Those things he said, and just his voice when he's horny. You never thought phone sex could work, but John had a way with words that just rubbed you in all the right ways. You were moaning like a slut for him and he loved every second of it. Fuck. Fuck. You know you need to stop thinking along those lines.
With a fair amount of willpower you calm yourself down and finish cleaning yourself. You turn the water off and waste no time drying yourself off. You pull on some boxers and a comfortable shirt that's way too big for you. You toss your clothes in the full hamper and know you should have washed them days ago. But you've been busy with work and other shit that is obviously more important than reaching the washer.
You grab your phone and the bell on the stove goes off, perfect timing.
You look and John's sent you a few silly messages about clouds and that he can hear a kid crying towards the back of the plane. You send back a quick, you got lucky before reaching the oven. With an oven mitted covered hand you place the lasagna on the stove; it almost looks like something from a cooking show. You take a picture and send it to John, he quickly replies with a yum and save some for me.
You quickly reply with a smart ass comment, he replies with a picture of his middle finger and a grin that you can't deny is sexy.
So of course you send a picture with you sticking your tongue out and making an awful face. In which he replies with far too many rows of the letters h and a and it litters your screen. You swear the two of you are still in grade school at times.
ok i'm gonna go to sleep now.
OKAY GOODNIGHT.
night. 3
3
You know he's fucked up his sleeping for you, it's almost 8pm for you and 5am for him, and he's woken up in the middle of the morning just to call you every day. But now he's on his way and you just have to wait.
You walk to the living room and there is another movie playing. You can tell from the bloody guy on the screen that it's not something you want to watch as you change it. You turn to a romance that is already half done, you've watched it before and you think it was adorable. You set your phone on the coffee table and go back to the kitchen.
You place a good portion of cheesy goodness on your plate and toss the salad from last night on the plate and leave the rest to cool on the stove. With a cup of water and plate of food you head into the living room and make yourself comfortable. It's always too quite when he's not around and you turn the television a little higher.
The food is good and the movie finishes on a sappy note. When he's with you John usually groans like he's dying at movies like this and you laugh, because every time he does you yell at him for being an insensitive asshole. It usually ends with you incoherent as he apologizes with a kiss that you swear is the best each time.
You don't think you'll ever get pass those butterflies you feel every time you see him. After dating for three years John proposed to you and you've since been married to him for five years and all the time you've been with him has been the happiest years of your life. These sappy movies always make you appreciate John that much more, because you know most relationships aren't anything like these romances you love.
You finish up your dinner and you're satisfied, maybe a little over stuffed. You turn the television off and head back to the kitchen. You grab some containers and store the leftovers away in sections for tomorrow and wash the dishes, drying and putting them up. It doesn't take long and it's about 9 when you're finished with everything.
It's early and you're not that tired, you don't feel like watching another movie though. You still have that book you wanted to finish, you could play some video games, Sollux is usually on. A few other options drift through your mind and you finally decide just to finish that damn book.
It's not particularly good, but fuck if you can't not finish a book once you've invested so much time reading it. You grab your phone from the coffee table and turn off the hall way light as you head to your room. You turn the light down a bit and pick the book off your shelf. You crawl under your covers and turn to the last page you were on.
You throw yourself into the book and turns out it's actually pretty good. After three hours you finally find yourself on the last paragraph and you are tired now. You hadn't planned on staying up this late, but you think it was worth it. You yawn loudly and stretch getting up to place the book back in its spot. You go and use the washroom before heading to bed. You turn off the light and flop into bed tugging the covers over you.
You grab John's pillow and hug it adjusting until the covers are cocooned around you. It still smells a little like him and you know it's because you hadn't bothered to wash the clothes, but that will have to wait tomorrow…or the day after tomorrow. Yeah that sounds about right.
You mentally laugh at your mind and fall asleep.
You wake up to the sound of your phone, it's not your alarm and it's not John's ringtone. You sit up and it's 5 in the fucking morning and you're too tired for anyone's shit right now. The ringing stops and you hope the asshole gets it, before you can even get comfortable it starts up again and you grab your phone angrily.
You see your asshole of a best friend smug face on the screen and groan. You know he stays up late as hell, but he knows you have to pick up John. You swap the deny answer and text a WTF SLEEPING! to him before slamming your phone on the bed.
Then you hear knocking at your door and you're not sure what to think. But you know it's probably Dave and you don't have any fucking clue why he's at your house. You toss the cover off and get up; you pull on some shorts and make your way to the door.
"What in all hell's has possessed you to come to my house this fucking early in the morning!" You have the door open and Dave's standing there with his phone in his hand. Silence is what you get. "Well?!"
Suddenly you realize just how odd this is. Dave talks a lot, you've known him for years, he's acting strange and something is off. The final clutches of sleep finally drifts away and you're fully aware of Dave. He's standing weird, his mouth is turned down, and his hand is around his phone in a death grip.
"Karkat I…" His voice is cracking and this isn't Dave at all.
This isn't right.
This isn't right.
You suddenly turn and run to the living room. Your hands are trembling as you turn on the TV and flick to the news.
It's there in big bold letters.
This isn't right.
You hear the door closing and nothing is right.
The words are there and you can read them, but it doesn't make sense. Shit like this can't happen, not in this day and age, not now. The woman's talking; she says it's tragic, a rare accident, it's being investigating and it all doesn't make sense.
Nothing makes sense.
Before you know it your entire body collapses and you're on the floor. You're trembling and you can't feel a thing, this has to be a dream, you don't know who you are.
It's a dream.
But it's not and a noise resembling a dying animal comes from you, you know this is real. Dave is standing next to you and he's saying things, you don't understand. You don't hear him, you can't accept this, but it's there in big bold letters, it happened and you're lost.
There are tears everywhere and you're violently shaking and you grab onto Dave's shirt and you cry. You shout, you scream, you completely lose yourself and he's holding you. But this isn't right and all you know is that you can't live, not without him.
You feel as if someone has literally stabbed you and the pain in your chest is unbearable. You keep chanting no over and over and over, in hopes that maybe you'll deny it until it becomes a lie, this is some cruel joke, a horrible nightmare, something not real and you'll see him in a few short hours.
But this is real and you'll never see him again.
You cry until your eyes are red and swollen, until you're too weak to hold yourself up. Your throat burns and your voice only a whisper and you're still trying to deny it.
You can't deny it.
You don't know how long it takes until you can understand him. Until you've run out of tears, out of energy and everything. He pulls you up and you sit on the couch with him, completely drained and lost. Your lip trembles as you finally say it in your mind.
John is dead.
He's dead.
He's gone.
You'll never get to hold him again.
He'd dead and you were asleep.
He's dead and you're alive and he's dead.
John isn't ever going to kiss you, he's never going to hold you, you'll never hear him say another word and he's dead.
You swallow and your breathing is erratic and you know that it's real. You're awake, and Dave's here and John's not.
You close your eyes and rest your body against the couch. Dave holds your hand and you continue crying softly.
"Want a glass of water?" He asks in a hushed tone and you nod weakly. He gets up and heads to the kitchen.
You pull your legs to your chest and fold your arms over your head and you're crying hard again. You hear him set the glass down next to you and he places his hand on your back. You know he's trying, you know he's torn up over John's death, you know this is real.
You hear a knock at your door and Dave goes to answer it. It's not the police, it's Jade and she's crying and she's there next to you hugging you and you fall into her arms.
Time becomes something you're not aware of and the sun is up and suddenly the cops are there. Delivering the news, telling you what you already know, confirming the already harsh reality that this is real and he's gone.
You don't say much and they leave after they give their formal apologies and well wishes. You know there were hundreds on that plane, and you're not the only one broken right now. You wonder if they're all feeling this same agonizing pain too.
Throughout the day you get calls and visits from your friends. They're all sorry, shocked, sad, and are there for you. You leave your house and stay with Jade for a few days, and everything is numb. You barely say a word and it's impossible to eat. You still hope that maybe you'll wake up, but it never happens.
It's nearly a week later and you're staring at the ceiling. They've all been here for you, every one of them and you know you're lucky to have such loving friends. Jade helps you set up the funeral and holds you whenever you break down, which is frequent. Every time you think about him you can't hold it and you know it's time to go to the funeral.
Everything is dreamlike and you still feel like you just heard the news.
They found his body, they found a lot of bodies and a lot of them were still missing and would probably never be found. It was unrecognizable they said, but dental records, and you couldn't listen to anymore. You'd thrown up the little water you'd had in you and broke down.
He wanted to be cremated, you know because he told you. He'd joked about getting some pranks in the service and maybe some music to lighten the mood. Pass out some hot sauce laced cheese crackers to the unsuspecting guest. You'd laughed and called him an idiot and said it was serious.
This was it.
You were at his service and your friends are saying so many wonderful things about John. Your husband was gone and now this was really it. Sollux finishes his story about how John was an awesome gamer and friend and you know you have to say something.
You stand up and straighten your back as you walk to the podium. You clear you throat and look out at all the familiar faces, some are from his work, from the neighborhood, from his childhood.
"John was an asshole when he wanted to be…but he was the sweetest man…" You feel your throat tighten and push through it. "I don't know why he talked to me in highschool, why he stayed my friend, why he dated and married me. But I was the luckiest person in the world to have him. He helped me so much and was always there when I needed... He was always thinking about others, except when he was trying to pull some shitty prank and most of them were horrible…but he was always aiming for a good laugh which…which he usually got." Your tears are relentless. "I loved my husband with all my heart and cherish all the time I had with him, thank you all for supporting me through this." You finish off your speech and walk back to your seat.
Jade says it was beautiful you smile at her and break down again.
Condolences are given and you appreciate them all, the service ends and they take John back to be cremated. You wait with Dave, Rose and Jade for his ashes. It takes almost three hours until they finally bring out the urn. It's him, your John, in a tiny marble urn and you hold him.
You hold him and remember all the times you laughed, joked, and forced him to watch shitty romcoms. Every kiss he ever gave you, the way he smiled, when he proposed. The wedding, the vows, and when he'd said I love you for the first time, the last time.
They drive you to your house and when you enter it's surreal. Exactly like it was before he died, before your whole world had fallen apart.
You hold the urn in your hand and slowly walk towards your room.
The bed is unmade and the dirty clothes are still in the hamper.
You set the urn down on the nightstand and sit on your bed.
You can hear someone washing dishes and you know that the lasagna went bad.
You lie down and pull the cover over your shoulder; you stare at the urn, the name of your husband engraved across the front. You know this is real.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath.
You relax and let your mind go.
You think back to the last things you said to him.
The last heart he sent.
The last time you felt happy.
And still hope deep down that this is a nightmare.
If this made you cry I have succeeded, I wrote this in order to hopefully get back to writing again. Thank you for reading.