A/N: I apologize for this in advanced. I hadn't planned for my first fanfiction to be sadstuck. Really. It's just...well...listening to Last Resort by Papa Roach and other depressing or loud songs on loop for a while with a blank notebook and a pen in front of you...something dark is bound to be the result.

Anyway, (not)fun fact: I cried while writing this.

There will be five chapters to this story; each one focusing on one of the Five Stages of Grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Where'd I get the idea for this story? Me and one of my greatest friends in the whole world were talking about sad things that could happen in Homestuck at the end. He suggested, "Oh, what if John dies? Like, for good?"

I said, "NO! DON'T SAY THAT!"

To which he replied with, "Hey, don't you ship John and Dave? How would Dave take the news? That'd be interesting to see, since he doesn't normally show much emotion."

So yeah. This is a prologue. It will all make sense soon enough. Enjoy I guess. No Sburb AU. Sorry for OOCness, but emotions can really mess a person up. Pepsicola, or it would be, at least.

John,

I just...I wish you were still here. I miss you. Well, we all do. But I think besides Jade, I do the most. I read the note you left me. Even though you already know...I feel like I should say it myself.

...I never got the chance to tell you how perfect you are. Your messy black hair that you could never tame, those bright blue eyes that were always happy, the way that you loved playing pranks on everyone. It was always so hard to bring you down. I loved that about you.

I'd get so mad when you'd point out some flaw you thought you had, like your overbite or how you were always a little shorter than me. I never told you this, but I love every single thing about you.

I love you. I always did. Even back when we first met. How enthusiastic you were about everything and how happy you would be for even the slightest thing.

I was always such an emotionless prick, but I felt like I was myself around you. I hid behind these walls I made, and I was so clueless. I should have just TOLD YOU. I had to be such a pussy. I know there's no way I can tell you in person now. But I feel like I need some type of closure. Hence the point of this letter.

I miss you so much. I know you're happy, wherever you might be right now. I wish there was a way you could read this...

I promise I'll never forget you. I don't care what happens. Aside from the fact that I was in love with you, you were always my best friend. I couldn't forget you even if I wanted to.

You told me to move on, and if that's what you really want, then I will. But you'll always be there; in my heart, my mind, and my very soul.

(I know that was cliche as fuck, but I don't care anymore. You would've liked it.)

I love you so fucking much. I love you. I love you.

"I love you." The words escaped from Dave's lips as he fell to his knees. Those three words that meant everything to him. Those three words he had been holding back for years. Those three words that had been haunting him for the past few weeks. Those three words that, if said, could have changed everything. Or at least, something.

If only he would have just said it. Told the whole world that he loved John. If Dave knew this was what was going to happen, he really would have.

"Fuck, I'm so stupid." He buried his face in his hands, finally letting the emotions just take over. He was shaking with sobs, not caring about being cool anymore. Not caring about being ironic. Or emotionless. All of those old cares were gone. Along with John.

The tears were running freely. It felt good to let all the pent up emotions out after so long. The realization kept hitting him like a ton of bricks. John is gone. He's never coming back. John's dead.

Dave sniffled and wiped his eyes, which did not have anything covering them for once. After a few seconds of silence, he took his shades out of his pocket and gently placed them on the grave, along with a bouquet of blue and neon green roses. It had been really hard to find those specific colors, but it was worth it. They were John's favorite.

"Happy birthday, John." Dave muttered before turning and walking away with a heavy heart.

'Tears shed for another person are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign of a pure heart.'