-5/13/12-
- Prologue-
There was the car again.
Greasy fingers digging hungrily into his bag of chips, he continued to noisily munch on the fried spuds, talking with his mouth full. "Nic Cage is the master film writer, all in all." The boy beside him- Just old enough to operate a car, laughed, nodding his head in agreement.
Crunching on more chips noisily, a song squeaked over the radio. Karkat's fingers twitched, and he found his gaze sliding over to John. His passive blue eyes seemed to glow in the crisp afternoon sun, and Karkat's chewing came to a halt. Digging around in his teeth with his nail, the ragged surface catching the sharp piece of chip that invaded his gum, he flicked it onto the floor. He couldn't dare let a grin escape his lips as he noticed John's own dorky grin.
The light ahead was green.
The crosswalk sign had stopped flashing.
John gazed ahead, and watched the light. A slight look of panic crossed his face, as the car continued to roll through the intersection, even as the light turned red.
Crying.
Fighting his damp clothing, Karkat struggled to sit up in bed. His eyes wild with fear, tears streamed down his face.
Just like every night.
The house seemed oddly quiet when Dirk finally eased himself from bed, and managed to stumble out of his bedroom. The smell of petrichor permeated the air, as he found himself in the so dubbed 'living room', and his eyes snapped open, before slowly easing back. He had simply left the window open. A new breeze gusted through the open window, pushing the blinds away. Blades chattering, the blinds fell back against the wooden frame of the window, dead and silent.
Anxiety squeezed his vital organs, and he bit back a groan of protest. He always got nervous when he was around. Jake peered up at him, and with a haphazard smile, kicked his boots up on the coffee table, and reclined further into the couch. Nights alone with Jake were preferred to anything else. Dirk's apartment was small and dingy, but it had been a place of sanctuary for quite some time. Dirk surveyed the living room- the disaster that it was, and tugged at his boxers unceremoniously, before straying backwards to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he re-appeared, looking somewhat fit to start the mid-afternoon, albeit still in his pajamas. Jake never seemed to mind- In fact, he thought it radiated manliness, and some other jargon that was particular to him.
He plopped himself onto the couch, arms crossed lazily over his chest. A slight squeak issued from beneath him. Digging around in the couch cushions revealed an unfinished smuppet. Wordlessly, he picked up a stray needle from the coffee table, and started to fish around in the couch again. Reaching deep between them, he found a stray spool of thread, after pulling out a Game Bro magazine, a scalemate, and another smuppet. Terezi must have left it behind after her last visit. A few trolls visited on the off occasion- Terezi, Meenah, even Karkat sometimes. Karkat…
Karkat was never the same after John died last winter.
From what Karkat, albeit grudgingly mentioned, he and John were gearing up to see the new Nicholas Cage movie, and an outrageously irate Vriska stopped them. Colorfully swearing (he had made it a point to express that), he exited the vehicle. After heated words with Serket, John mentioned that they had already missed the flick. After taking a breather for more colorful swearing, he continued on. "We planned for the next day, and over night, it rained. The rain froze that morning, and turned to ice, and John drove them to the movies."
What happened next, Karkat refused to mention, even in his weakened emotional state, but no one had to know from his word to know what happened. That's what they got for living in such a small community. Normally an accident like that would leave the scope of the news, but instead, it was plastered on the front page. The clipping that Jake presented to him mentioned that the break line had been cracked; Karkat walked away with minor injuries, while John had died on impact.
Karkat managed to escape the questioning and prodding of the media by absconding to his home. Not even Gamzee or Terezi knew where he lived, and so he went undisturbed. Only recently did he make an appearance to the world of the living. He spent his time silently, usually wallowing in his own self pity- As much as he tried to hide it, everyone knew and understood that he was a broken man.
A finger prodded at his side. "Dear chap, are you having one of those day fantasies again?"
Those wondrously big emerald eyes peered up at him, and a smile pulled at his lips. A faint nod shook his head, and Jake settled back into his seat, question sated for now. Jake's eyes whipped back to the screen, and he continued watching SBAHJ the movie. Dirk, however, couldn't be bothered to watch. He had seen the movie more than once, but Jake was glued to the screen. So much so, that he couldn't be bothered to hear someone knocking on the door.
Moving to stand from the shitty couch, a smuppet tumbling from between the cushions as he moved, Dirk paused, and looked over to Jake once more. His hand hesitantly rose from his lap, and shook ever so slightly, eventually moving to hover over Jake's head, fingers just barely touching a fly-away of Jake's hair… Do it… Do it now. Pet the boy. His hand slowly shrank away and placed itself up on the couch. Using it as leverage, he raised himself up (another smuppet tumbling from between the cushion and couch), and pushed away, standing. Jake arched a brow, eyes still glued to the screen. Dirk stood listlessly for a second, watching the movie reflected in Jake's glasses. Another impatient knock issued from the door.
Striding away from the couch with a bit of that Strider swagger, Dirk rounded the obstacle and made his way through the cramped living room, approaching the hall. The window situated at the top of the door was pitch black, and his eyebrows perked in feigned surprise. It was probably Karkat. Jake might have invited him over to watch a romcom later. Not that he minded Karkat being over, but this late at night… Dirk shook his head, hand snapped the lock on the door back. Pulling it open, he peered around the door.
The last thoughts he had were of hot blood and cold cement.