I was scrolling through the BroJohn tag and saw someone mentioning Bro as a monster under John's bed. I'm a sucker for things like this, so I decided to finally contribute something to the homestuck fandom and write this. I don't know how long it will be though. Also, I'm taking a few liberties and such with this. Sorrrrryyyyy.

Also, warnings for violence, possible sex, and bad words...

John didn't really remember when he had started checking under his bed for monsters, but he was sure that it had something to do with Rose. She was a girl, obviously, and not much older than him. They had gone to pre-school together and were rather close, though after she had moved away they began to grow apart.

Secretly, however, John was glad to be away from that creepy book of hers. Just looking at it had been enough to send shivers down his spine. And he wasn't even going to mention the countless nightmares he had that involved that book.

Regardless of the origin of this habit, he couldn't help but check every night and every morning for something hiding there. There never was anything more than a few lost dust bunnies and a stray toy, but he couldn't be certain. That uncertainty was probably what led to his obsession with the monster that may or may not be living under his bed.

"You know, I think it's time we talk," John huffed one day. He held his dear salamander, Casey, next to him. His deep azure eyes focused under the bed and he sat down. He was going to ask the monster down there to kindly find another bed to hide under. There had to be other places for it to live.

"I know you've probably lived under this bed just as long as I've slept on it," John started. "But I think it's time to move on. I'm growing up, and I bet you are too, right? Well, I'm just thinking maybe you should go find another bed for yourself. I hear Rose's is pretty comfortable!"

John rambled to the shadows beneath the bed, ranting and raving about how it was time for the creature to move on and find a new home. There was never any movement from the darkness. The shadows stayed in place. John took this as the monster's way of accepting his proposal. He stuck his hand under the bed to shake with the monster.

Something grabbed him.

John let out a pathetic squeak and yanked his hand away, his body shaking violent. Casey, who had been sitting in his lap, began to blow bubbles frantically. She squirmed away and back to her corner, watching from a safe distance.

"I'm sorry," John squeaked out. He opened his eyes and found that there was only a glove holding onto him. It looked a lot like the one he had misplaced last December during his annual sleepover party with Rose.

He gave a nervous chuckle and pushed his glasses up. He turned to face Casey and gave the salamander a thumbs up to show it was okay. She blew a few more odd bubbles at him and he shakily stood to his feet to put her back into her cage. His dad didn't like her loose. And the college kid that was staying with them didn't like her, period.

John shyly peaked outside his room after putting Casey back. As he thought, there was no one there, but the creepy bear rug (or at least John thought it was a bear. It did look very bearish) was staring at him with coal black eyes. He shivered at the intensely blank gaze and quickly slammed the door shut.

"I thought I told you to keep it down? I've got a paper to work on," shouted the college guest. John shook his head and squeaked a timid apology back at him, but he could already hear the heavy boots drawing closer. The knob to his door twisted to the left and it creaked open.

"S-sorry, Jake," he choked out. The college student gave him a dirty look and turned over to face Casey who was happily blowing bubbles in her cage. John nervously chuckled and scurried between the two, protecting his salamander baby before the man could do anything to her.

The college student, Jake, sighed and ran a tanned hand through his hair. His green eyes stared cooly down at John. He was still upset about having to stay with John and his father, even if it was free and there was always good food being served. He just couldn't get used to not being able to wrestle or shoot. The lack of action left him restless, which was probably why he was in such a sour mood.

"It's fine," he grunted. John wiggled in discomfort, and trotted back to his bed.

"I was trying to reason with the monster," he explained. "I thought he had grabbed my arm but it was only a glove."

JoHe giggled nervously and waved the glove as if to make a point. Jake eyed it curiously.

"A monster? Mind telling me more?" Jake asked, inching closer to John. His boots noisily thumped on the wooden floor. The bed creaked as he sat beside John. His eyes never left the boy.

"The one under the bed," John quickly answered. He wasn't used to hearing more than a word or two from Jake. The sudden attention was rather... Unnerving. John wasn't sure if Jake was still angry at him or not, and his father had warned him about their guest.

"Under this bed? Monsters are too big for that," Jake snorted. He reached into the pocket of his green jacket. John caught a flash of silver just as the feeling of cool metal pressed against his temple.

"Monsters don't fit under the bed, or in the closet," Jake said with a bitter smile. His finger was already twitching. His green eyes focused on John's face. He watched the boy's nostrils flare and his chest rapidly rise and fall. He licked his lips and leaned down, his hot breath brushing against John's ear.

"They fit right here," Jake whispered. The gun moved from John's temple to his heart. Jake's fingers twitched at the movement, almost pulling the trigger. The boy under him gasped at the pressure to his chest. His blue eyes filled with tears. Jake let his finger do what it was longing to.

A shot rang out in the otherwise quiet house.

That was how John had wound up here. The white room with tubes. He wasn't sure where this room was. There was no one to ask where it was. He was in the white room full of tubes. And it was only him.

The room was not a fun place to be, John soon found out. It was a very cold place, and the sheets that lay on top of him just barely provided protection from the frigid air. His skinny frame was doomed to shake and shiver, rattling the tubes and the stands, for eternity it seemed. It got worse, however. There was no doors nor windows to the room. There were no lights. John was amazed at how the white floors and walls just stayed... White.

He shut his eyes and rested his head on the pillow. That was about all the movement he could manage. His body refused to work properly for him, legs and arms moved of their own accord, his eyes would occasionally twitch, he would sputter out nonsense as though he were possessed.

Such was the life of John Egbert. The unfortunate comatose boy. The boy whose dad had wasted away as he waited for his son to wake up. The boy who Jake watched bleed out with a sick, satisfied smile, even as the police pulled him away. The boy now trapped inside a dream, with only the darkness underneath the bed still watching over him.