How dare they laugh at your matesprit just because his blood color refuses to accept the hemospectrum. Howdare they beat him to the point where he refuses to tell you what happened, which makes you think it was pretty damn horrible. Who would want to harm anyone? They were probably highbloods. They always looked down on the lowbloods, especially mutants. But he wasn't going to be okay. You couldn't care for him, and the highbloods were probably telling a drone. They were going to come, pick him up, and fucking cull him. You couldn't take the thought of that, and what being without him would be like. You didn't want to know. You never wanted to know that feeling, but it was coming. Your arms were stained the candy red you've learned to love. You could feel his body heat slowly creep away. So very slowly. If anything, you wish he was already dead. You didn't want to see the love of your life slowly and painfully die. You never wanted to see that happen. Your fingertips dug into his back as you buried your face in his warm neck. If only you would've been there. Your grip on his clothing gets tighter, and tighter, but it doesn't help. Nothing helps. He's dying and you can't do shit about it, but sit there and watch him die. In that moment, you swore that if you found those assholes, you'd kill them on spot. In that moment, his last breath grazed his lips and he went limp in your embrace. In that moment, you lost everything you ever wanted because of some shitty spectrum that he was on the bottom of. You stand, stumble over your feet a bit, then carry his body back to your hive. You peck his forehead ever so gently, trying your best to make sure he wasn't in pain anymore. Your voice is slightly squeaky as you whisper his name. "Karkat?" But there was no response. No, not this time. You bit your lip, and then started to bury his body right next to your hive.