A/N: This is my first attempt at a Homestuck fic.
I've pretty recently gotten into it and Jegus... This is some heavy shit.
Anyway, I just noticed it's 6/12 and I figured now was as good a time as any to crank out a fic. I've been skirting around it for a while 'cause I'm pretty nervous. That being said, I'd prefer if you were nice as this is my first try.
Cliffhanger was intentional. I was thinking of writing a few scenarios as new chapters but I ran out of time. Once again, I'm uploading this at the last possible second.
Anyway, Homestuck belongs to the God known as Andrew Hussie, not me. Enjoy now~
You are now Future Karkat.
Somehow, you're back in time. Before Gamzee… does what he did. You can't even seem to think of it. Everyone is alive. Even Aradia's robot hasn't blown up yet. Nepeta is curled up like a fucking kitten on Equius' lap. He was petting her hair as she fell asleep, before he too drifted off. Not everyone is in the room, of course. The ones that are are asleep. Terezi, curled up with her Scalemates; Nepeta and Equius, as previously mentioned; Kanaya in a computer chair; and Gamzee, laying on his horn pile.
Gamzee Makara.
The name itself fills you with an odd mix of hate, fear, and pity. (Oh no, not pity. You can't actually pity the monster who—) But seeing his face, serene and asleep and almost adorable… maybe that's what scares you more than anything. That this adorable fucking clown will turn into a Goddamn sociopath and…
But this is the past. You could probably avoid the destruction of your entire race if you just killed Eridan and Gamzee as they slept. It would be a pity to leave Vriska to kill Tavros, but if you changed things then surely she wouldn't. Besides, Gamzee was the most insane and Eridan destroyed the Matriorb, as well as killing—God fucking dammit, all these thoughts are making your think pan spin and hurt and you just need to THINK.
Breathe.
Okay.
You look at the sleeping figure of the demented highblood clown again. He looks so peaceful. However, he kicks lightly in his sleep and you hear a faint 'honk' ringing out from the pile. It terrifies you now. You can't help but associate that sound with death. Not wanting to wake up the murderer-to-be, you bite your lip, not caring anymore about the colour of your blood. The hemospectrum just doesn't seem to matter once you've seen all your friends meticulously slaughtered.
Which brings you back to your previous thoughts.
Gamzee. Eridan. Kill them. You know that's what you should do. It would save so many lives. But then, wouldn't you be just as bad as them? No. You don't want to do this. You don't want to join Jack and rat out the trolls. You don't want to exterminate all the "peasants". Again you bite your lip. Is this even a good idea?
But if you aren't supposed to do this, why are you here? There must be some sort of reason for you to have travelled back in time. Time isn't even your thing; you're the Knight of Blood.
Maybe that's why you're here.
You need to spill their blood. You need to save everyone. Shakily, you take out your sickle. This is the hardest thing you've ever had to do, but you have to. You just fucking have to.
A creak sounds behind you. You turn, brandishing your sickle, but only see Aradiabot. Nonetheless, the past (Jegus, how long has it even been? You know it hasn't been long, but it feels like eternity) time you spent playing this damn Sgrub game has made you paranoid as fuck, and you only hold your sickle up higher, knowing that you wouldn't stand a chance if she was actually inclined to fight you.
"Are you going to do it?" she asks you. Her voice is infuriatingly calm.
You almost yell, as is customary with you, but find yourself able to keep your voice down. "Shouldn't you know?" you grouse. "You know fucking everything."
"Not this," she answers. It doesn't seem to perturb her, but at the same time nothing perturbs this dead robot you call friend.
"What do you mean?"
She stares at you for a second or two, as if she's searching for the right words, then answers, "I wasn't meant to know. I know what you're thinking of doing, and why, and the outcomes of both scenarios, but what you're actually going to do is completely blank. That's just how it should be."
You look at her, then look to the sleeping trolls, and then back to her. "Can you tell me the outcomes, then?" You know the answer before she even shakes her head. With a small sigh, you look at the 'friends', everyone looking like a corpse to you.
They're all your friends. At the same time, these aren't your friends. You know that this won't influence your timeline. You're probably a doomed paradox whatever. But your job is to influence this timeline. You don't treat it as this, though. You don't treat it like you have all the paradoxes in the world, even though you probably do. Space isn't your thing either.
You look at Gamzee again and lift your sickle. If you're going to do this, you're going to do it now. Words run through your head as you hold the weapon above your head shakily.
Motherfucker
Murder
Best friend
Brother
Clown
Asshole
Fuckass
So many words that you've thought and said and heard and… Fuck your think pan is spinning again. You register the flutter of eyelids. Gamzee's woken up. Or waking.
If you're going to do this, you have to do it now.