Disclaimer: I do not own Homestuck.
Chapter one
There was a person at the Corner Café who always had time for you. He was a mousy little guy but fuck, he was the kindest person you ever did lay eyes on. He didn't give you that funny reaction like everyone else did. That weird thing where they would look at you and then look away as if you were a cop and they were criminals. This kid was no criminal. He seemed like the most innocent motherfucker on the planet. The world is motherfucking huge so that was saying something. Especially in a big city like this. There are a lot of shadows in a big place like this. Just enough darkness to swallow a body whole. But not him. He was some kind of motherfucking miracle.
When he spoke, you always looked to listen. You enjoyed hearing him speak unlike the ceaseless motherfucking gibberish that polluted the air of the streets.
"God, I am so late, boss is going to murder me!" The businesswoman with her coffee-to-go in hand exclaimed.
Not so far away, a man on his phone muttered, "Oh screw off, they had it coming."
You wonder why that out of all the street babble, you focus on words such as these.
These phrases always trigger unwelcome memories deep in your mind, through the haze of man-made happiness.
"YOU FUCKASS. YOU MOTHERFUCKING DICKHEAD! AFTER ALL THAT WE'VE BEEN THROUGH HOLDING THIS FUCKING THING TOGETHER YOU GO DO THIS? YOU KILL THEM? YOU FUCKING MURDERER!"
Your voice is so faint. "N-no. Kar, no I didn't- I didn't mean-" You stare at the blood on your hands. The liquid runs over your fingers and between them, darkening at the creases in your skin. Blood splattered the club hanging limply at your other hand. Your eyes fixate on the contrast of crimson against bright paint and the pattern it makes.
This doesn't make sense.
"I'M CALLING THE POLICE. YOU INSANE FUCK!" Your best bro had tears rolling down his cheeks. You ain't never seen him cry. Why was he crying? All you did was get a little angry. They were going to exile you from the band. This was your band. It brought in money. You lived off the band. They couldn't take that from you. You were defending yourself. You just wanted to knock some sense into them.
What does Karkat mean you killed them?
You begin whistling a tune, urging the memories back to the depths from which they came. The tune is lighthearted as you feel, strolling through the mass of people around you. You were distinguishing a little too much of their dialogue from the general prattle for your taste. Perhaps you would hit another joint later to ease your mind. Though it made you more uncomfortable feeling clarity solidify in your thoughts ever so slowly, you decide to tough it out. You couldn't leave a bro hanging. Besides, you wanted to all up and gaze upon that smile on a day like this when memories started to rustle.
His smile captivated the sun, you were sure of it. The sunshine must take affection to a pretty guy like that, having to look at a world filled with ugly people all the time. City life made people ugly, like yourself, but not him. You suspected he wasn't really a city boy. He couldn't be with that type of radiance.
There he was, sitting in his usual place as you slink through the door with that character roll in your step. You kept that nice shirt you bought a long time ago with your performance money just for these occasions. You wear it all the time now, in fact, it's probably beginning to become a bit worn. You wonder how long you have been coming here.
It had to be long enough for him to feel more comfortable around you. More so than the other people who were bustling about the little shop, anyway. He was the type of guy who got nervous around a lot of other people. You two were different in that way, you supposed. You liked having throngs of people around you, all happy and spirited. They made your bubble of existence a little brighter. You wished he could feel that too instead of being so antsy and uncomfortable. But then again, that's what you were for. You like to think that he enjoyed being around you just a little bit because you helped him get his calm on.
His head was dipping lower and lower into that book of his and his shoulders were beginning to stoop upwards. He got to looking kind of small when he was like that. He always tried to hide himself away when he was nervous, which was a damn shame. You always have to remind him how people like sunshine. He didn't ever seem to grasp what you were saying. That happened a lot, no matter whom you spoke to, so you never mind it.
"Hey Tavbro, how's the old life treating you?" He raises his head immediately at your question, not looking startled but welcoming instead. From the look of his crumb-dotted plate, he had been waiting for you. Somehow, that seems to happen more than you would like. He waves away your apology with a warm smile.
It always manages to surprise you when he refuses to get angry with you. Your best bro of past used to be angry with you all the time. It had been motherfucking cute in its own way, so you rolled with it. He was just that type of person, you guess. Karkat had some fire ceaselessly raging within him for sure. There was always a difference between his cute anger and his real anger though. A certain shift in tune that had the little motherfucking hairs standing at attention on the back of your neck. You suppose you couldn't say that you knew his real anger before that incident, however.
You reach a blood stained hand towards Kar, your mouth falling open to ask him all these questions, but the words get stuck in your throat. They slide back down into silence like the blood on your arms. You can't say anything even though you are trying so hard. He looks so scared. Why is he so scared? You aren't going to hurt him. Bro's don't hurt each other.
You look at the two silhouettes at the far side of the room.
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME. GET BACK! "His voice cracks under the weight of his fury and fear. You wince at the sheer volume of his voice and the venom that churned in each word. It makes you want to cry. You have a feeling you are already doing that anyway.
You hear him run to the other room, slamming the door behind him, locking it and putting as much distance as he could between you and him. Everything was wrong. They were supposed to be chilling and watching one of his romcoms. You even brought the boos. You drank all of it though. It was an accident.
It was an accident.
You stare at the bodies more. This was wrong.
You were just so
Angry.
You can't hear Karbro's screaming any longer. Your heart is beating too loud and you are breathing too hard. In and out in and outinandoutinandout. Over and over and over. You can't distinguish your panting breath from your beating heart. Sweat is running down your back, but you aren't hot. You are freezing. Cold. Empty. Something is wrong. You can feel yourself shaking.
You can't keep it back. You try to force all the bad things away. All the anger, pain and betrayal. The images. The feelings. You are happy. You are a happy guy. You wouldn't do something like that.
Everyone gets a little violent sometimes. Bros have spats. Equius and Nep were your sibling and siblings have squabbles all the time. That's all this was. A drunken fight between siblings. They drank too didn't they? Everything just got a little out of hand and too hot to handle. Karbro just had to step in a little.
He yelled like usual and stopped the fight.
Your heart is in your head now and your breath is in your ears.
In and out in and out in and out.
"Um, I'm good, thank you very much! Would you like to take a seat?" Tavros' voice pulled you from the clutches of another memory. You wince as the old roots of guilt flared again like a festering wound. You focus on his mouth to distract you from the hurt. He must have some magic in his smile. The whole room just seemed to up and brighten the moment his lips turned upwards. On the other hand, maybe you felt instantly happier. It was hard to tell, but you liked it either way.
You sat yourself down in the worn, wooden chair. He liked to sit in the back corner near the largest painting and the window that always had its shades drawn. You suspect that the owners wanted to keep the back of their café brightly lit as the rest of the place. Tavros grinned across from you and flagged down the nearest waiter. The owners named it a café, but it had always been the restaurant at the corner, not too big and not too small. Like all restaurants, it had booths and tables and waiters and waitresses.
Tavros knew you would deny any money he may want to spend on you, so he never asked to buy you anything. He just smiled and bought your favorite meal anyway. A hamburger with everything on it, a side of home-style fries and key lime pie for dessert, but always served with the meal. Every Monday through Friday, you could count on one good meal to eat and that got you by just fine. Hunger hadn't reared its unwelcome face ever since Tavros had become your friend.
By now, you have realized that refusing these meals would only hurt Tavros' feelings. So instead, you dig heartily into every meal he offers and talk only when your mouth isn't full. Tavbro was keen on etiquette and you had no means to deny him that much.
"So, the story has been coming along fine. Maybe when it's all done, I could get someone to edit it and, um, then maybe I could get it published!" Tavbro says with hesitant pride. You wished he could just be proud of himself where his work so clearly deserved pride.
"Good for you Tavbro! This story of yours will be an instant hit in all the stores, man, I can feel it!" You say jubilantly. Sometimes, when you were lucky, you could build up his confidence enough and he would read aloud some of his story to you. It was a wonderful story. It was your favorite out of every motherfucking one of the great stories he has read to you. That was what he did while you ate dessert. He would pull open that old, worn out, thick green book as he was doing now, and flip to the next fairytale they were on.
This had been going on ever since Tavbro saved your life.
Not all people liked your personality, but he said he enjoyed it. You didn't really understand what was so different about you from all the other happy people coming in and out of the shop, but you rolled with it.
You don't even like yourself, so it was a motherfucking miracle that someone else could.
You don't think you will ever come to like yourself.
You are one disgusting son of a bitch.
Tavros moves his lips and you know he is speaking coherent words, but everything has gone quiet. You feel panic in you as other sounds begin to trickle into your conscience. Life is beginning to seep into old memories like color bleeding into black and white photographs. Your mind has trapped you now. Your heart beats faster as Tavros begins to blur until he disappears from your vision completely.
Thump-thu-thump-thu-thu-thump-thu-thump-thump-thump-thump
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
Throbbing.
Your head is throbbing. Gingerly, you press your fingertips to the back of your head. New warmth sticks to your fingers. Blood is mixing. Your head is bleeding. Karbro was pretty vicious, man. He hits pretty fucking hard. Hit you right on the head. Bashed you a few times with one of your clubs until he hit the light right from your motherfucking eyes. It went dark for a minute there. You woke up to a familiar sight though. Karkat yelling at you, but for some reason it was weird. He was terrified.
He was terrified of you of course.
Because he said you killed them.
The bodies in the room. They weren't moving because you beat them. You remember now.
You killed them.
Your eyes grow wide and your breath catches in your throat. You look around the room, you look at the door Karkat is behind and you look at the bodies on the floor. You don't see any of it. All you see is the drunken haze from which you took their lives. That voice in your head is growing too loud to ignore. You can't ignore it anymore because it consumes you.
What have you done?
Oh god
OH GOD.
You FuCkIng KILLED THEM.
YoU MURDERED tHem.
Nepeda-
All the times her giggles mingled with your deep chuckles flashes in your mind and you can almost hear her voice- chipper and forgiving, until you look at her.
Dead.
No longer would she jump on your back or fall asleep with you on the couch. No longer-
Your body jerks and you're moving.
You cross the floor littered with broken glass from the vase Nepeda tried to throw at you earlier, to stop you from killing Equius. You hit him over and over and over, even after you heard the crack of his jaw. You only hit him harder.
Standing over them, you know that you should be crying. You don't even recognize Equius' face anymore. It's deformed and gruesome. You want to look away and you want to cry. You can do neither. An agony builds within you, begging for release through tears, but you could not give yourself that satisfaction.
No amount of tears could cleanse you now.
Your mind is breaking.
You feel the shards shatter apart and clash together, ringing in the air.
A part of you recognizes that the ringing you hear is sirens in the distance. You don't distinguish the thought at all. Their faces are all you see. Ghastly, disgusting, and alien. It is branding your mind in place of the memories you once knew of them.
The sirens are drawing closer and Karkat throws open the door. You hear it slam harshly against the wall. His voice rips your focus from their distorted features. "I CANT BELIEVE I AM FUCKING DOING THIS. YOU ARE ONE SICK MOTHERFUCKER TO DO THIS TO ME YOU TWISTED SON OF A BITCH!" He has a gun in hand now, and keeps it pointed at you in warning. Karkat moves to the front door, eyes on you all the while. He stands at the closed door without moving, in indecision, and you can't tell whether he is going to shoot you or open the door for the police.
You deserve both.
With a cry of anger and anguish, he flings open the door, his face contorted in conflict. Moonlight catches against his tearstained cheekbones. The sirens are fully audible now. You can only stare at him. Nothing is computing. You don't understand. He isn't shooting you.
The gun shakes violently in his hand.
You look from it to him in the pause that follows his outburst.
He realizes your confusion. "DON'T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND? LEAVE! Jesus Christ," he sobs and at any other time, you would have gone to him and comforted him. Your feet are rooted to the spot. In desperation, he thrusts his arm through the open door in a wild gesture. "LEAVE!" he screamed.
Comprehension hits you and you feel the bitter burn of bile raise in the back of your throat.
He is letting you go.
Numbly you stumble towards the door and as you pass Karkat, you look him in the eye and open your mouth to say something- anything. To plead that he understand. To fruitlessly apologize over and over for something that will never be forgiven. As you look at his face, no sound escapes your lips. Your silence is the only answer he will accept and you know it.
You do not say goodbye as you leave him forever.
You stagger through the doorframe of the music studio and your band's hideout of six years. Your legs take you where you cannot see. Everything is blurred and noises slur and overlap until the world becomes a mass of damp color, neon lights and sluggish movement. Bright light envelops you and the smell of burning tires assaults your nostrils. Honking envelops your eardrums.
"Honk." You giggle.
"Excuse me?" Tavros asked, furrowing his brow. You tune back into reality, breathing a sigh of relief as your past releases you. You blink rapidly, willing the tears from your eyes. An assuring, downy smile lies lazily across your lips. You mentally kick yourself for being such a rude motherfucker. You all up and ignored everything Tavros said in the last couple of minutes. Usually when that happened, Tavbro was kind enough to give you a little re-cap, but you felt too embarrassed to raise the issue.
Motherfuck, you need a hit if you have sense enough to feel embarrassed.
"Sorry, Tav, I didn't mean to all up and interrupt your jam. Go on! You don't have to stop." You wave for Tavros to continue, looking expectantly at him. Damn, you wish your mind had picked a more convenient time to have a temporary relapse. You really wanted to hear this story, as you wanted to hear every story Tavros offered to read to you. There was some treasure about those stories. Some real bit of magic hid in those words and you felt blessed for every one of them that graced your ears. You sure loved the Grim Fairytales a whole lot.
Tavros grinned softly, "Don't worry, I, uh, know you kind of lost focus there. It's okay, Gamzee, we will try reading this story next time. Actually, I, uh- kinda wanted to ask you something kind of off topic from our usual conversations. Um, would that be okay?"
This piqued your curiosity a whole lot. Usually Tavros never felt comfortable enough to talk about himself. He usually stuck with discussing his day or the fairytales. You never wanted to pry, so you never asked about topics deeper than that. You felt a little happy that he was willing to try something new. He was getting all kinds of adventurous here!
"Sure thing, buddy, my ears are all kinds of open. What do you have to say, Tavbro?"
Tavros set down his book carefully and gazed forlornly at his lap. You watch as he distractedly folds the napkin in his lap and unfolds it, smoothing out the creases. It was a nervous habit of his. You wait patiently for him to talk, careful to think little of anything so as not to get distracted.
A few moments pass until Tavros stalls in his lip chewing. "Well, It's about Vriska."
You nod, urging him to continue. Vriska is Tavros' fiancée. She was his fiancée of three years. In your opinion, she a spindly spider bitch. Even a dumb person such as you can see that she has spun her web of lies and deceit throughout Tavros' life. You hate that bitch.
"Well, my book published-"
"Well, look at that, good for you Tav! See I knew you could do it! This was that other book, right? Not the motherfucking awesome fairytale one, but the one you were all up and working for five years? Its finally motherfucking published! Man, Tavbro am I so hap-"
"…Her name is on it."
A/N: Thank you very much for reading my story so far and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter as much as I had fun writing it! I will have the second chapter up in a few days. You having taken the time to read my story will always be my greatest incentive, but reviews are always welcome and very much appreciated.