Hey, so this is extremely short. Like, I'm pretty sure it's the shortest thing I've written. Finally got caught up with Homestuck after forever. So I came up with this real quick. Maybe seven minutes? I don't know. Not important.
Homestuck belongs to Hussie.
Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you're sorry.
You're sorry, you mumble through clenched teeth. Sorry that your alt-timeline self wasn't there for her like she needed. Sorry that there was a surplus of alcohol available for her to drink at an age younger than you had started trying to create your own soporific beverages. Sorry that she didn't have anyone there to take care of her.
You, Rose Lalonde, can never make up for the wrongs that you did to her. Even if it wasn't you that was in her life. It was still a version of your life. It was something that was still a part of you, whether you knew it or not. In her life, you had died—twice. Just as she had in yours.
You wonder how she managed to live alone for fifteen years. You always had your mother (who was technically her) to provide you with a home and food. Though you never admitted that she did anything for you other than compete in passive-aggressive shenanigans that honestly probably weren't even that passive-aggressive in her eyes. Roxy didn't seem to have that problem.
She took one look at you and hugged you so gladly. Was it wonderful to have a version of your mother back? Yes indeed. Roxy looked like your mother, just younger. She already seemed to have an extensive amount of knowledge in the field of science, similar to your mother. And she already admitted to liking wizards. Perhaps your mother actually liked wizards then.
Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you didn't even say that you were sorry to her, despite that being what you felt when your eyes fell upon her. Because you realize, with a heavy heart that it's too late.
You missed your chance to apologize.