This idea for a fanfic has been in my head for a while, and with the hiatus now going on I couldn't resist writing it. Please forgive any OOCness in the fanfic, it is the first one that I write for Homestuck. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own Homestuck or any of its characters.

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Ever since you had been able to count you had been confused by the numbers, or rather the clock, on your wrist. It was continuously counting down, second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day… It was always changing, always counting down and the blue tattoo-like digits changing. Counting down for something, but you had no idea of what it showed. Of what its purpose was. Of what it meant. You knew that everyone had one; you had seen the ones that the other kids in your school had after all, even though it was something really private. However, you were certain that none of them knew what it meant. You sigh, stroking the count with your thumb, imagining what it could possibly show. Perhaps it counted the amount of time until you go on a wonderful adventure? You shook your head, suddenly remembering that you weren't at your room. You quickly grab the piece of cloth that matched the colour of the numbers on your wrist and wrapped it around them. You knew at least that it wasn't something that should be displayed in public.

It didn't take long for you after that to work up the courage to ask your dad about what the numbers meant. He just looks at you with a smile on his face.

"One day" He started saying, "when the numbers reach zero, you are going to meet someone, John. The most important person you've ever met".

"It just shows when I will meet a person?" you ask, surprised. Not being able to imagine understand why something like that could be so important. Aren't your Dad and Nanna the most important people in your life?

You voice this too and he just smiles and ruffles your hair. "You will understand when you're older", he just says.

You shake your head and say that you already know the most important people in your life. He laughs and repeats that you'll understand when it happens.

You start hearing more about it after your start school. The excited whispers of girls, who show each other their wrists as they squeal are hard to ignore after all. You can't help but to pay more attention than what you're willing to admit to these increasingly common occurrences, as you struggle through school and hours of boredom and bullies. As you grow older you slowly start losing your friends as you are increasingly pushed away by those who used to be your friends.

You slowly start relying on the thought that you have a soul mate more and more, the thought that there is someone who will love you and be with you no matter what. This thought always makes you smile, even when the other boys and girls mock you. They insult who and how you are, tell you that your soul mate will never be able to stand you and that he or she will hate you. Sometimes they tell you that your soul mate doesn't exist, that they are already dead, that the mark in your wrist is just a mistake and that you are just a freak of nature. At times you believe them and break down crying right there, after all how could there be such a thing as a soul mate for someone like you? Others you reassure yourself that they are wrong, that they are jealous because their marks show at least a decade more than what yours shows. You tell yourself that they are just jealous that your mark shows a closer date. Happy thoughts, however, doesn't stop them from beating you.

Crying yourself to sleep becomes a more frequent occurrence, but the blue mark, even though it shows a time twenty years away reassures you. You will someday meet your soul mate, and you can't wait until that moment comes.

The first time your mark on your wrist changes is when you move to another town, due to the bullying you're subjected to on a daily basis. You tell your dad that everything was fine, that you could cope with it. He insists again and again that you deserve better than the treatment and bruises that you receive, that you can't live or grow up surrounded by hate. To your delight once you move the numbers start changing rapidly, increasing painfully high and delightfully low. It ends up settling to sometime five years away. You tell your dad, who congratulates you. You grin and stroke the numbers again and watching them count down, wondering how your soul mate will be. What they will look like, what their hobbies will be, if they will like you. You just grin and allow yourself to imagine how everything will be like.

As the time slowly comes closer and closer you become increasingly excited. It seems like it is an eternity away, but suddenly you realise that your wrist only shows days now rather than years. As days pass these start decreasing, first from 365 to 300, from 300 to 200, from 200 to 100… The day is nearer and nearer, and you want to meet the other person already.

You become nervous when your dad tells you about his plans to travel to a big and touristic city. You voice your worries that in this way you will not be able to meet your soul mate, after all the date is only a week away. He tells you to calm down, and that everything will be alright, that you will meet your soul mate. You smile at this and force yourself to not lose hope. You will meet them. To your delight the numbers don't change upon arriving to the city.

The day the numbers show just hours you find yourself pacing uncomfortably around. You take long walks outside, telling your dad that it is important for you to make sure that you will meet your soul mate. You do this all day, until all the hours have passed and it is only minutes.

"Just five minutes, just five minutes…" You tell yourself over and over again as you walk through the crowded streets, failing to pay any attention to your surroundings. You only have eyes for the blue numbers ticking down on your wrist, second by second.

"One minute, just one minute now" You say aloud, now looking around and realising that the street is far too crowded for you to be able to tell anything apart. You close your eyes as you are invaded by sadness. It won't go wrong! It can't!

You end up walking again as you watch closely the numbers.

40, 39, 38…

You smile and keep looking at them as if the world depended on it. It keeps ticking down, and you are unable to break eyesight with it.

20, 19, 18, 17, 15…

Your smile turns into a grin and you keep walking on, counting the numbers as they go down.

7, 6, 5…

It is right then when you crash against someone, causing you to fall onto the concrete floor. You close your eyes, and when you reopen them you see the last number on your wrist turn from one to zero and change into a grey colour. Your eyes widen. The count has ended. You should have met your soul mate by now. You get up abruptly and look around, trying to see if you would recognise someone or feel something, but you don't, and instead you are left with a heavy sense of disappointment.

"Hey, are you alright?" You hear someone ask.

You look down, and it is just then when you realise that you had hit someone while you were walking. He is currently picking up something that looked like records from the floor that he must have been carrying before. He has blond hair and black shades that cover his eyes, making you unable to read his poker face.

"I am thank you. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention while walking because I…" You start saying, trying to explain yourself as you still try to locate your soul mate around you. Suddenly you realise what could have just happened. It is only a possibility, but…

"Excuse me, if it isn't much of a bother asking… did your numbers just turn into zero?" You asked.

He looks towards you with surprise in his face, even though you can't see his eyes.

"How did you know?" He asks, his poker face broken for a moment.

You smile. Perhaps, just perhaps, you are right. "Mine just turned to zero, so I was wondering if this could possibly be…" You say, as you start fumbling with your words. You take a deep breath and decide to be direct instead. "Are you my soul mate?" You ask.

The unknown person smiles lightly at this, looks at his now grey mark. He then gets up and takes steps towards you to get a better look at your mark. He then smiles.

"Dave Strider" he says, offering you his hand.

You grin, feeling his deep voice stir something inside you that you had never felt before. "John Egbert" You say as you take his hand and shake it. You suddenly have a feeling that this is going to be a very good day.