Okay guys this is my favourite song and well JohnDaving it. More inspiration=Another songfic. Based on this video: watch?v=rac_Bt6sElk

Song is Maybe Two Or Twenty by Joel Faviere, Joel is an inspiration and I just love him so much!

-Pk


Be the broken hearted.

Sometimes, I kiss my scars. Its over with. Is this it?

You fucked up. Fucked up is an understatement. You royally fucked up. He paid the price, he paid the price for you. Of all fucking people. Why was he such a fucking dick? Always having to be the goddamn hero. Did you just call John a dick? Oh fuck no. He's the sweetest person on the face of the planet. *Was, he was the sweetest person on the face of the planet, you correct yourself. "Fuck!" You scream out as if in pain. You were in pain. And the cuts didn't make it better. You thought they would help you deal, physical over emotional. But you were hurting to bad for that. It didn't help at all. And if John saw the scars he'd flip shit. John can't see them now, you remind yourself. He never will see them. Ever.

Sometimes I breathe in deep. Lungs close up, I wish you married me.

You took a deep breath trying to calm down, you've been like this since it happened. A wreck. Lalonde, Harley, and Vantas were all worried about you. They didn't know, sure they lost Egbert too but they didn't love him-no scratch that they did love him but they weren't in love with him. Not like you were. You guys were gonna get married, grow old together. It amazes you how quickly that shit was thrown out the window.

Sometimes I break down. Give up everything. But then I think about you, You're so strong. You were so strong.

You sigh and roll up your sleeves, tracing the scars. You moan let out a quiet, strangled cry. He's gone, he's gone and it's all your fault. You loved him. You love him. John was always such a nice person. He chose everyone above him and that's why the dumbfuck- hero was six feet under in a box. He wouldn't have died if you showed up sooner, acted quicker.

Its been 2 years since we even talked, but I still call hoping you'll pick up.

John died awhile ago, two years to this day. This damned day. April 13th, the poor fuckers birthday, you were now lighting a candle on top of a shitty cupcake. John hated all baked goods. You gave a weak chuckle at this. You always teased him about being the only person on the planet that hated sweets. Your smile soon faded as you pressed the call button.

Drift away, I could lie and try to say that I'm the same. Don't watch me cry over your grave. I'll take a drink, maybe two, or twenty.

You sat there, looking over his headstone as you blew out the candle. Tears streaming down your face as you cried silently. You picked up the whiskey bottle towards your left and took a swing. Your throat burning afterwards. You let out a noise similar to a wounded animal as the blue weeds you picked appeared to be wilting already. They weren't but you felt as though they were. You picked them out because they were blue and reminded you of your John.

You're watching me kiss another on the face I feel guilty. Though you aren't here, I don't dare to erase. I still pay for your phone so I can hear you speak.

The phone finally went to the voice messaging system. "Hey this is John Egbert." You shuddered at his voice.

"Hurry up Egderp!" You heard your own voice in the background, you sounded so happy there. So different.

"Shut up Dave!" He said quietly. "Anyway I'm sorry I can't pick up the phone right now but I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"

"You're the one who wanted to watch Con Air for the fiftieth fucking time this week." You said teasingly.

"Ehehehehe!" Towards the end you started to tickle him. John gave one of his amazing laughs, snorting a bit. There was a beep and you were momentarily startled.

"Hey John, happy birthday. I love you bro." You said softly. Your voice breaking again as you hung up. Foot steps could be heard running to you but you paid them no mind.

"Dave Jesus fuck!" You didn't bother looking up at Karkat. He knelt in front of you. "Dave...are you okay?" He asked you softly. This surprised you. Normally he would've said "It's been two years get thye fuck over it" but not this time. Why you did not know. He grabbed your wrist gingerly. "Dave, can we please go?" He asked, pleading. You shook your head looking at the headstone, avoiding Karkat's gaze as it fell to your scarred wrist. "I could've helped you with this." He murmured kissing Dave's scars. Karkat himself had so many battle scars. Battle scars all over him. His sides, his chest, his thighs, wrist and up, near his back, even on his fucking neck and ankles. He cut where ever he could. Anywhere if it made him feel less shitty. Anywhere that made him feel less fat, less ugly, less useless. If it prevented him from ending it all he'd do it. Even just temporarily. Dave couldn't lose him, not now anyway. Karkat had to be the strong one, for both of them. "Dave, you can't stay here all night." He muttered, kissing Dave's cheek causing the blonde to flinch.

"Karkat no." He said softly. Dave felt guilty for being with Karkat. He loved Karkat but he also still loved John. Moving on was practically impossible and even after a year Karkat and Dave did nothing more then hug, hold hands, and kiss. Both had scars they wanted to keep hidden from the other and they were both mutually okay with this. "I can't just leave him. How do you guys expect me to move on?" He asked, his voice raspy and rough from sobbing.

"Dave we all lost Jo-" He began but was cut off by Dave.

"You guys lost him, you guys missed him but at lest you're still in one fuckin' piece. I can't do this anymore Karkat!" He practically shouted. "Don't make me do this anymore. It's hell. I'm in fucking hell. I want nothing more then it to stop. The tormenting, the wind saying my name for Christ sakes. I want the torture to end! Make it. Please. For me!" Dave begged the cancer.

Karkat just shook his hand and stroked Dave's hair trying to calm him. "It'll be okay Dave. I wont leave you. And I wont let you leave me. You hear me? I couldn't live without you and without John so don't you think for a single fucking minute that taking your life would fix this. Because like hell it will. You understand me?" He asked Dave, sounding kinda harsh.

"Yeah...I gottcha. I'm...hey Karkat I'm sorry." Dave said, startled when Karkat hugged him but allowed it nonetheless. He even hugged him back loosely after a while. "I guess I've been a little blind lately." He whispered into the trolls ear. Karkat nodded softly.

Drift away, I could lie and try to say that I'm the same. Don't watch me cry over your grave. I'll take a drink. Maybe two, or twenty.

"Happy birthday, John." Karkat said softly. Dave however picked up his whiskey bottle.

"Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear John, happy birthday to you." Dave sang rather eerily. His voice carried away by the wind a bit. This caused him to shudder, drinking more.


Did I sadstuck well? Review maybe?