So I wrote this after something I posted last night practically blew up Tumblr.

Go ahead and check it here: (literatetaurine[.]tumblr .com/post/19332035329/im-calling-it-now

Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie, as do all characters mentioned.

It had been half a sweep. A year, as Gamzee heard the humans call it, their muted conversations sometimes making it through the walls of his respiteblock. The room is dark, dimly illuminated by the husktop sitting in his lap.

Gamzee sits in a horn pile, where he's spent the past half a sweep. When he sleeps, he simply leans his head against the wall, or curls up in the pile around his husktop. He never sleeps for long, just in case.

He hasn't left his respite block, except for when he leaves to soak in an ablution trap. But he takes his husktop with him, careful not to get it wet. No one ever sees him anymore, he's pretty stealthy about his ablution trips.

He's never had to worry about food either, because a full nutrition platter and bottle of Faygo are placed in front of him every couple of days. He doesn't know who leaves them. He never notices. His eyes are glued to his husktop as he picks at the food. One application is open. Trollian. The list of names is still there. Seven of them have grey circles next to them. Five feature the blood colours of their respective trolls. It catches Gamzee's eyes a moment when one of the grey circles turn candy red, then ten minutes later, returns to the grey it used to be, a few shades lighter than the other six grey circles.

There's only one Gamzee's waiting for. One person to come online, one friend to find his respite block. But it's been half a sweep. And he hasn't.

Gamzee's grown used to the knocks on the door of his respite block. He's never answered them though. He hasn't spoken since that day. Whether or not someone comes in after those knocks is unknown to Gamzee. He has more important things to focus on. There's a voice. Spoken words. Whispers. "GAMZEE, COME ON. I'VE GOT THAT A BOTTLE OF THAT FUCKING DRINK YOU LIKE SO MUCH. JUST, COME OUT TODAY. KANAYA'S NOT GONNA KILL YOU. I PROMISE." That's all the voice says. There's a hand on Gamzee's shoulder, a face close to his to look at the husktop's screen. Then, there's nothing. Gamzee's visitor turning to leave.

"k-karbro?" One simple word, whispered and still hoarse from half a sweep of silence. It stops Karkat in his tracks. "YEAH GAMZEE?" Karkat returns go Gamzee's side, finding a place to sit on the horn pile like he used to, back when he first became a recluse in his respiteblock.

"HE'S NOT COMING BACK ONLINE, IS HE? he's been gone so long." Gamzee says, his voice still hoarse. He swallows thickly, and is vaguely aware of indigo tears once again streaking down his cheeks. Karkat doesn't answer right away. Instead, he wraps an arm around his moirail, and sits there in silence with him.

"I HAVE SOME FACEPAINT FOR YOU IF YOU STILL WANT IT. I JUST WANT YOU TO LEAVE YOUR RESPITEBLOCK FOR A LITTLE WHILE." Karkat eventually says. He hasn't answered Gamzee's question yet. He doesn't have the heart to.

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I WANT MOTHERFUCKER!" Gamzee yells suddenly, his eyes still never leaving the screen of his husktop. "i just want him to come back. I WANT HIM TO FUCKING LOG IN. i have shit i want to tell him." He's crying harder now, sobbing pitifully, as he turns toward Karkat and hides his face in his shoulder. "DID I DO SOMETHING WRONG KARBRO? is that why he isn't talking to me?"

Karkat holds Gamzee, letting him cry. Despite the reasons for Gamzee's tears, Karkat is glad that Gamzee has been able to cry, been able to speak at all. It's progress, and hopefully Karkat will be able to tell him why he's not online.

"YOU HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG. IT'S JUST REALLY COMPLICATED RIGHT NOW." Karkat assures his friend. He looks over Gamzee's shoulder as he cries, and takes one more look at the Trollian handle Gamzee has been so fixated on. Brown text next to a grey circle. Never to change again, never to troll another. Dead and gone like so many others, adiosToreador.