A/N: Happy birthday to the evil child who reminds me to update this thing. This one's for you, kid.
Karkat locked his phone before shoving it into the worn pocket of his jeans. Just as he was about to take a bite of the syrup-sodden waffles, an unwelcome sound interrupted his breakfast with its poorly-chosen lyrical content.
If there's a prize for rotten judgement
I guess I've already wo-
Karkat unlocked the phone, before the old song got irreversibly aggravating. Stupid old Disney earworm song. Checking caller ID, he frowned slightly. She wanted another favor, didn't she?
Pressing the talk button, he brought the phone to his ear. "Hello self-proclaimed savior of all the innocent and prosecutor of the unjust. Or whatever you call yourself these days."
"Hello unhappy and dramatic friend of mine!" A voice replied. "I appreciate the new nickname."
"Calling for help on the case again?" Karkat speared a syrup-saturated waffle with his fork, tearing off a piece to stuff in his mouth.
"Do you know how dull it is to listen to the same word processor voice read? I have hard copies of files too. Research is such a bore. It's like they enjoy stacking things up against me. And "Justice is blind"," she laughed again, the unsettling witch-like cackle the same as ever, "they amuse me."
"So you're basically going to pay me twenty bucks to get my ass over there and read you something about another guy who is actually the filthiest man alive and this is the dirt which you shall present to anyone who has ear within a mile radius of a courtroom."
"Stop by at 5, Karkat?"
"No."
"Come on! Fuddy duddy."
"No. I'm tired. Save your antics for the next unlucky intern in the department." He was fighting a losing battle and he knew it.
She sighed. "You're making a blind girl beg. Chivalry is dead."
"Don't pull that card on me."
"Karkles."
"No, stop."
"I'll tell Kanaya about the time you-"
"Terezi-"
"Kaaaarkles!"
"…I'll be over at 3:30."
"Good! See you then," she cackled again, "Karkles."
The phone call ended. Grumpily, he stuffed another bite of breakfast into his mouth. He might as well go for a jog after this, by the looks of the kitchen window it was sunny and slightly breezy. Scribbling a quick note, in case he was gone when Nep got home, he finished the breakfast and dumped the plates in the sink.
Grabbing his trusty black hoodie and a pair of running shoes, he set off for the park.
Jogging always helped him clear his mind. Even though running past most of the streets brought back some unpleasant memories, it was like replaying a slide show by holding down the right arrow key, spinning through without paying much attention. The park was the best place for a morning run, since some big corporation had dropped a wad of cash onto "development of communities".
He passed the sign that declared the patch of green space as one "Main Street Park". Rapidly choosing one of his favorite trails, he picked up the pace.
Staying in motion seemed to help.
The small forest surrounding a series of duck ponds and fishing lakes made up most of the park. A small clearing sat uphill of the water, and in it there was a small stage used for community shows and the like. The early morning light dusted the tops of the old trees and a scattered group of children tramped through the playground, imagining games of make-believe.
They all flashed by as Karkat sped past, keeping his breathing steady against the reliable tread of his footsteps. He was running away from some of the darker thoughts of desperate times. Pity that he was running away from the good memories as well.
Nothing seemed interesting anymore. It was the same routine, week after week. But no one would call his day-to-day routine unpleasant or substandard. It was the thoughts, relentlessly swirling inside his mind, hammering in what-ifs and if-onlys. He'd never stopped wondering, even though it was years later. There are some things you never entirely-
"Karkat! Hey!" A familiar blue hoodie bordered Karkat's peripheral vision. Oh, great. "Morning."
"Morning yourself. Wait 'til I stop to chat." Talking would only starve his muscles of the oxygen they needed to go faster. A malicious thought half-formed in his mind and he acted on it. He can't annoy me if he can't catch me.
Instead of taking his regular, easy-going path around the lake, he quickly selected a rugged dirt path through the forest. Outpacing the scraggly bespectacled kid easily, he slipped onto the winding unpaved path.
Early light brushed the woods with an artistic palette. His shadow wove through the thin shade cast by trees. Crisp autumn leaves created a cacophony of snapping twigs and crunches. He jumped over the trickle of a small creek, following the trail uphill. After what felt like a condensed marathon, Karkat plopped down at his favorite place in the park.
It'd been there since forever. A little pond with a willow tree by the banks, seated on the edge of a picturesque meadow, overgrown with wildflowers in the summer, but filled with the long golden grasses of fall. The sky was a gradient pink and blue, highlighting the soft puffs of some low layered clouds. Karkat propped his feet up on a rock near the banks, relieving some of the lactic acid burn while listening to the bird song.
What he did not expect to hear, however, was the sound of sneakered shoes crunching the leaves on the path.
"Hey, can't a guy say hello?" An irritatingly familiar voice greeted him cheerfully, slightly out of breath but jogging at a good pace.
No. This just wasn't fair. Okay, usually life was unfair, but couldn't it be unfair in his favor a couple of times? Karkat sat in a stony silence, not gratifying the lively idiot with a response. Fucking pain in the ass morning people. Who gave them the right to be so cheery and peppy and energetic and rude.
"Well, I'll hold up my end of the bargain. Hello, good morning, you're welcome." John plopped down on the ground next to an unsociable acquaintance, wheezing slightly. "Wow, I'm out of shape."
"What the hell do you want?"
John blinked, taken aback by the tart reply. "I wanted to say hey, you're the guy I saw Con Air with. And look, we jog at the same park. And maybe I would have said that you're actually kind of cool, and I was going to get a coffee later, but I don't know the town well enough and I need to have a place recommended to me."
Karkat felt his annoyance grow with each word, and he regarded himself as a man of tolerance. Well, maybe his fuse was a bit short recently. And maybe stupid friendly trusting people held a hypothetical flamethrower to that fuse. And maybe that fuse led to a couple dozen bricks of C-4. Metaphorical C-4 that represented his combustible anger. Fuck everyone, Karkat Vantas, king of metaphors, coming through.
"There's a Starbucks in the strip mall, a path there from the park, and a raging shit-fuck-all lack of reason why you're still here. Jesus fucking Christ, can't a guy be left alone?" Unconsciously, Karkat had been retreating into a tight ball of antisocial wordplay throughout the dialogue.
After an awkward silence, John stood up, brushing a motley combination of dirt and crispy leaves off of his backside. "Sorry, bro. Please don't explode if I ask you for some help getting there?"
"No promises."
"Could you help me back anyway? I think I'm lost."
Karkat sighed, getting to his feet. "Aren't we all."
"That was pretty deep for a guy who still looks half asleep."
"Yeah, well at least I don't look like a beaver. That's something I've got going for me."
John rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, real original, I haven't heard that one before. Ooh, there goes all my self-esteem. Thanks Karkat, you killed my emotional health."
"Glad to hear it. There's a shortcut back to the main path if you're up to it, numbskull." He pointed in the general direction of a break in the trees.
John grinned. "Lead the way."
He was learning to hate that grin.
They'd made decent progress down the well-traveled main path, since dodging trees and roots was no longer a problem. There was a clearing up ahead which made up the main body of the park, containing a little raise platform for the community events that necessitated it.
"Uh, so, you know the park pretty well?" John said, trying to start up a conversation as he tried to keep up with Karkat.
"I grew up here. I know it like the back of my hand. When did you move here?" Karkat was still slightly annoyed with him, but it was better than jogging in silence.
"Just last year. My dad's working a job at a warehouse near here, and I'm staying here while taking some online courses for college. I mean, I had a job back in Washington, I'm not a complete leech, and there are some more colleges on the East Coast that we were looking into…" John babbled on about his educational experiences and he was so distracted that he nearly bumped into Karkat when the latter froze in his tracks.
"Oh, shit, sorry, I almost hit you, did you step in something?" John walked around to the side of the unmoving jogger, following his line of sight to see a bright red banner, with the iconic symbol of wrists bound in handcuffs.
"Cool, it's some sort of demonstration, wanna go check it out?" He was not given a response. It seemed like time had stopped for Karkat Vantas, his breath was stolen away, his heart skipped a beat, his mind froze, his blood boiled, a light had blinded him, the void had swallowed him up whole, he'd been waiting for this all his life yet all hope was lost and his doom was fast approaching….
"Earth to Karkat, come in Karkat, do you read me?" John was waving his hand in front of Karkat's eyes, which barely mattered because Karkat was still deciding which reaction was the most appropriate. Shock? Anger? Fake gratitude? Praise?
Because right before his eyes was a situation he had avoided for the past three years, a person he had avoided almost as cautiously, and a circumstance that brought back harmful memories.
Standing up at the podium was Kankri Vantas, resplendent in his red sweater to fight back the chill, current spokesperson for the Overthrow movement, reciting a memorized speech that Karkat wanted to slap out of him.
"Karkat, you okay, buddy…?"
He was standing up on that platform like he was the goddamn savior of the peasants sent to preach meaningless bullshit at everyone who could hear him, and all the while citing their Glorious Founder who worked so hard, only to have his life Tragically Cut Short. The Sufferer for a great cause, that man, fighting for equality and awareness, and other things Karkat could no longer hear without grimacing.
It's hard, being the son of a martyr. It's hard and nobody understands.
A/N: Late updates, I'm sorry guys. I checked my inbox and whoa hold your horses there were so many new people! For those interested, the 413th word was "pronunciation". Figures.
To musicalBlink, I return your high-five and hug, and we'll have a s'mores and cookies party with everyone else who wants to join. Thank you for the praise!
TheGilbird, I counted all the a's in your yay. Thank you for putting eight there, and the incredibly time-consuming Gamzee quirk. (I use a Google Chrome extension for it. Such a life-saver for pesterlogs. It's called Troll Me.)
fallenshadow962, bring the cookies and bonfire with marshmallows to the party! Thank you for the compliment ^_^ I like to pretend my writing is that good sometimes.
Magzy, thanks for the constant reviews! I can be a black hole for attention sometimes and you're not helping, but that's the best ^_^
Read and review, express your anger at me, help fix my mistakes, hugs welcomed, and a good day to you all. Good night, readers, good night.