Since I have failed to mention this in any earlier chapters, I DO NOT OWN HOMESTUCK OR ANY HOMESTUCK-RELATED CHARACTERS. I am solely in charge of the plot and non-Homestuck characters. Anything more than that belongs to someone else. This is the only time I will write this, as it is a waste of space and time to repeat it on every chapter.
"And you're absolutely sure that you saw it?" Nancey asked, leaning across the table to stare at Mrs. Cross. "Oh, one-hundred and ten percent! They held hands! You should have seen the look the one with glasses gave the short one!" she huffed, brushing the whisps of grey-blonde hair out of her face. "We're just lucky no children were around to see them!" Nancey exclaimed, pressing her hand into her husband's. He grunted quietly with concurrance.
"My goodness, if we don't warn the rest of our neighbors, who knows what might happen!" Mrs. Cross said, waving her hands in the air for emphasis. "Oh, I know! I hear terrible rumors about people like them! I wouldn't wish that upon any of my neighbors." Nancey said, tapping her husband's shoulder roughly. "Oh, honey! You have to tell the boys down at the country club! What if one of them were to be victimized by those... those gays!" Nancey shrieked, brown eyes wide. "You're right. We have to do something about this before someone gets hurt." he replied, scowling into his cup of coffee.
"Milk, eggs, butter, crisps, and yogert. Milk, eggs, butter, crisps, and yogert." Karkat repeated quietly to himself. He walked down the isle of the little grocery store in search of the items on the list, the metal shopping cart handle cold in his hands. He collected the items as quickly as he could, the weird stares he kept getting from the other shoppers putting him on edge. There was something wrong with it, something bitter and malicious underneath their tense smiles that didn't reach their eyes. He knew they were all fakers, but what they were hiding was something he couldn't figure out.
"Hey. Karkat, right?" said a man as he walked up behind Karkat, picking up an apple from the fruit bin. "Yeah. What's it to you?" Karkat grumbled, arching an eyebrow and trying (And actually failing) to give the man a small smile.
"I just thought I might have something you'd like to see." the man replied. "And what brought you to the conclusion that I actually want to see?" Karkat asked, setting the last of his items into the basket. "I dunno." the clerk said dumbly, shrugging and tossing the apple back into the bin. "Why don't you just give it a chance?" he prompted, giving Karkat a heavy stare.
Karkat sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine, but make it quick. I'm expected home soon." he caved, setting his groceries in the trunk of the car on his way out the door. The clerk smiled, leading Karkat to the corner of the store, pointing into the darker alleyway. "It's just right back here." he said, guiding Karkat back to the very back corner.
"Good job, Josh." said a deep, heavy voice. "Who's there?" Karkat shouted, slowly backing towards the wall. "Hello, Karkat. I'm afraid me and my boys never really got a good chance to meet you." the mystery mad said, the clerk walking out of the alley when he was pushed out of the way.
"My name's Jefferson Mcfarley. My friends call me Jeff." The man said, reaching into his jacket for a cigarrette, lighting it as he spoke.
"My wife's Allison Mcfarley, the president of our neighborhood Community Club."
He reached into his jacket again. The firt few droplets of rain begin to fall.
"We hear some pretty interesting things in the club meetings."
A few more men appeared from the shadows. Four, maybe five? The rain's pretty heavy by now.
"Some things are not so good. And we'd like to know if the things we've heard about you are true."
He pulls out a knife. You can barely see in the dim light.
"Wait! What's going on here?" Karkat questioned, his heart pounding in his ears. "Oh, we're just gonna have a litle fun is all."
His stomach churned with worry and his mind raced with thoughts. What were they going to do to him? Were they going to kill him? What about John? Was John okay?
"Yoo-hoo, princess. Eyes on me." Jefferson growled, dragging the blunt edge of the knife against Karkat's chin. Karkat swallowed the lump in his throat, taking a deep breath to still his heart. "Well, Karkat... what we wanna know is," Jefferson turned the knife and pressed the tip into Karkat's cheek, a droplet of crimpson blood beading up.
"Are you really a fag?"
Jefferson grinned wickedly, pulling the knife away from Karkat's cheek. "W-...what?" Karkat stammered, pressing his body against the wall as hard as he could. He wished he could just melt into the wall, fall all the way through it and to the other side, where he could run away.
"I said," Jefferson backed away slightly, letting his friends step up to surround Karkat.
"Are. You. A. Fag?" He punctuated every word, serrated and dripping like poison from his mouth. He stared at Karkat, his eyes full of such hatred and malice. Karkat knew he would not walk away from this unscathed. He might not even walk away.
"Answer me!" Jefferson screamed, punching Karkat as hard as he could, fist digging into his gut. Karkat coughed and sputtered, choking on the very air he needed to breathe. "N-no" he managed to stammer after a monent, straightening back up against the wall.
"That's funny. Because my wife and all her litle lady friends say otherwise." Jefferson murmured. "Are you calling my wife a liar?" His voice grew louder again, more steel to the words he said. Karkat didn't answer, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath, waiting the next hit. "Go ahead." He growled, backing away. His friends stepped foreward in his place.
The first hit was a hard one, connecting with Karkat's jaw and snapping his face to the side roughly. The second was another punch to the gut, only inches from where Jefferson's had hit. Karkat groaned, tasting blood in his mouth. He'd bitten into his lip pretty badly, enough to let blood run down his chin and get washed away by the rain.
Karkat stopped counting hits after the third, falling to the ground where he was kicked in the back, the stomach, the head. But the hits didn't stop until Jefferson shouted out "Enough!"
"I hope you have enough sense to get the fuck out of here, faggot."
They left Karkat laying in a puddle in the alleyway, only enough strength left in him to spit out the blood that had collected in his mouth. His nose and lip were bleeding, mixing with the rainwater on the asphault below.
Karkat sobbed, tears streaming down his face. His body shook, his clothes soaked and the the air cold. "John..." he sobbed, checking for his phone with shaking hands. He dialed his boyfriend's number, dragging himself into a sitting position against the same wall he had been trapped against.
"John... p-please... can you come get me?" he cried as he heard the pick-up click. "Karkat? Kartkat what's wrong?" John asked, hearing the pain in his boyfriend's voice. "C-... come get me... please. I'm in the alleyway by the store." he continued, ignoring John's question.
"Okay, baby, I'm getting in the car right now. The store's right down the road. I'll be right there, okay?" John comforted. "Please s-stay on the phone... need to hear your voice." Karkat whispered, his mind on the fringe of conciousness. "Okay, I'm pulling into the lot right now. You're in the allwayway?" John asked, glancing around worriedly. "uh-huh."
John hung up the phone when he spotted Karkat. His body lay crumpled against the wall, slumped in on itself. He was absolutely soaked by the rain and... blood?
"Shh-shh-shh, I'm here, baby. I'm here." John hummed comfortingly, cradling Karkat's body in his arms. Karkat nestled his head into the crook of John's neck as he was lifted from the ground and carried to the car.
"I love you, John." Karkat mumbled with a sniffle as John got into the driver's seat.
"I love you too, Karkat. Always and forever."