CHAPTER NINE:
A Regular Sherlock
Karkat shivered as he heard the body of their potential savior fall to the ground in a dead heap. He heard Meulin whimper (probably louder than she meant to), and felt Kankri's grip on his own shoulders tighten as he tensed up. He'd seen more than enough death that day. All of them had.
Except the mobsters, naturally.
"Tch. I knew it was him. The whoooooooole time~" Ms. Serket snickered deviously, then glanced sidelong at Mr. Ampora. "And you, Ampora dear, were the first to say 'Spin, you're out of your mind!'" The father of Eridan scoffed at this, and turned his head to the side. Once again, Karkat found their slight bickering a little amusing, and it reminded him of some kind of sitcom. This would have been a potentially hilarious situation, had he not been afraid for his life and lives of his loved ones.
Mr. Ampora then, regaining his dignity, turned back, and gestured to the five captives that sat huddled together on the basement floor."Okay, fine. You were right. Now, when, exactly, are we getting them out of here?" Karkat felt his blood begin to boil again. He'd temporarily forgotten about their plot to sell them. The last place he wanted to end up was in some foreign country being used for either manual labor or... the other kind of labor. Karkat suppressed a small shudder.
He tuned out the conversation of the outlaws as a blanket of dread began to fell over him. Their only way of escape was dead on the floor, and he was pretty sure that none of the other criminals were up for a little change of heart, unfortunately. How were they going to get out of this? Would they ever get out of this? All his life, from all those movies he'd watched, he had subconsciously assumed that, whenever anything bad happened, there was always a happy ending. But now... Now that he'd watched his brother get beaten over the head, his father shot to death before his very eyes, not to mention his father's killer killed as well, all at the hands of these horrible people, he was starting to rethink his previous theory. Shit happens, sometimes to good people. And sometimes, there was just nothing that could be done about it.
So he sat there in the not-so-comforting-at-that-moment embrace of his sole surviving relative as he realized this, and never before had he felt so hopeless. As though no matter what he did at the moment, nothing could stop him and his fellow captives from being killed or shipped off to some uncharted place and used as slaves for some clients of the ever-growing, all-powerful mafia.
Was this really going to be his fate?
Vriska's mother raked her eyes over the captives, and frowned in disdain. "I think I liked my first idea." She pointed a finger to Karkat, and his eyes involuntarily widened, hand curling into a tight fist and gripping Kankri's shirt like a vice. "That bitch from last week wanted a new plaything..." Her slender finger shifted to point directly at Kankri. "We can advertise this 'n for medium labor, I'd say, if we worked him out a bit..." Next was Ms. Leijon. "Whore." Then, Nepeta. "Whore Jr." Lastly, Meulin. Ms. Serket paused for a moment, pondering what she would say. "Hmmmmmmmm... We could sell her insides... Ooooooooor..." She turned casually to Mr. Ampora, furrowing her brow as if this weren't a decision about the fate of another's life, but rather something trivial. "Amporraaaaaaaa, be a dear and help me out here."
Karkat turned his head slightly, mind not yet fully registering his disgust and fear, to eye Eridan's father as he wrinkled his nose distastefully. "Last time I opened my mouth to say somethin', I regretted it. Use your own skull-"
The young Vantas boy let out a barely-muffled "Oof!" as he found himself pushed roughly to the ground when his older brother stood up with such a sudden, swift, fluid motion that all eyes were immediately drawn to the verbose high-schooler. Karkat barely had time to think God dammit Kankri! before his brothers arms were crossed and he was officially in "Fixing-to-Rant-With-Attitude" stance. And, given the situation... that certainly wasn't the best course of action. But, before Karkat could knock some sense into his brother, the red-sweater-clad teen was on a loquacious roll.
"I'll have you know, you wretched scum-of-the-earth," he began, face twisted into a half-characteristic frustrated snarl. "That this is a serious, I mean, beyond serious violation of human rights and social justice! I would just like to point out that these sorts of activities are just begging for divine judicial retribution. Not only that, but this extremely triggering experience you've put us through this evening will surely come back to haunt you or otherwise punish you all in the future. I mean, honestly! Think of your children! What would they say if they knew that their parents were nothing more than ruthless, murderous dissidents, who have nothing better to do than murder semi-innocent, semi-guilty people and sell their family members to various clients- also of the criminal nature, who enjoy the free labor of minors such as myself, my brother, and my classmates, not to mention the fact that prostitution- much less the sexual exploitation of minors is a severe crime, punishable by-"
A sudden shot rang out, passing so close to Karkat's ear that he flinched violently away from his brother. When he opened his eyes, he gaped in shock.
They'd shot Kankri.
Karkat exhaled heavily in relief when his brother raised his body slightly off the ground. He was in a kneeling position, pain etched deeply into his facial features. It had only been his knee that had been shot. Kankri was breathing heavily, obviously trying to stifle little whimpers of pain. Even he was trying to appear strong in this horrible situation.
Karkat turned his wide eyes to the mobsters, who stood in their little formation. Ms. Serket was at the forefront, lowering the arm that had pointed the pistol and shot his brother. She was obviously quite displeased with Kankri's little gutsy speech. Her speech was broken, sputtered. "Why- you little... SHIT!" As she raised her arm and aimed at Kankri again, this time for his head, a hand was laid on her shoulder. Karkat turned his gaze to Feferi's mother.
"Dayum bitch. Calm yo titties," she said with a tone and accent that made a tiny voice in the back of Karkat's mind pipe up, Yeah, that's Meenah's mom.
But the larger voice in his head was just a jumbled mess; things were moving too fast for him to process. He wasn't even sure how to react anymore. Too much was happening all at once.
Why can't everything just SLOW DOWN?
Mr. Ampora growled in annoyance, gesturing emphatically to the wounded brother of Karkat. "Aw DAMMIT, Serket! Look at what you've done! How the HELL are we supposed to sell a laborer MINUS ONE OF HIS GODDAMN KNEECAPS?!"
Vriska's mother didn't seem the least bit deterred, once more taking aim at Kankri, who shrank back slightly. "Fine then! I'll just kill him now!"
This earned a rebuttal from Mr. Ampora, and the bickering continued until it was in full swing. Ms. Peixes stood by and watched, shaking her head, a look of stern disapproval evident upon her face, as did Mr. Makara-
If it were possible, Karkat's eyes grew exponentially wider.
Mr. Makara.
Gamzee's dad.
Karkat could not believe he'd forgotten all about him. As Ms. Leijon went to work on Kankri's knee, doing what she could do help stop the bleeding, Karkat gaped stupidly at the father of his best friend, whom he'd actually rarely ever seen.
He recalled one instance, a complete accident, really, when he'd slept over at Gamzee's once when he was quite a bit younger than he was at the moment (dear lord was that a pain to get his father to agree to- but he tried not to think about that) Awakened in the middle of the night by a fervent bladder urge, he attempted to find his way to the bathroom in the dark. Gamzee's house was like a goddam castle, too. Hard enough to navigate during the day. So, one can imagine the horrific fright that he experienced when he turned a corner and came face-to-face (or rather, face to lower torso; the man was a giant!) with a dark, looming, terrifying figure. Scared out of his wits, he high-tailed himself all the way back to Gamzee's room, where he stayed awake for the rest of the night. It was only the next morning that he found out that the terrifying creature he'd seen in the dead of night was actually Gamzee's father.
Karkat absentmindedly shook his head, bringing himself back to the present, in which the respective mother and father of Vriska and Eridan quarreled amongst themselves in a most unprofessional manner, Nepeta's mother had used her youngest daughter's coat to staunch the profuse bleeding of Kankri's wound, and they Leijon girls leaned over Karkat's older brother, fear and worry tainting their pretty faces. All the while, Karkat's attention remained solely on Mr. Makara.
How could he have forgotten that this man was here? How?
A plan started to formulate in his mind.
Maybe Gamzee's father was their ticket to freedom.
The bickering of the temperamental mobsters was interrupted by a crashing sound, and all eyes turned to regard the basement door that had been kicked clean off its hinges, landing crumpled in a corner. The kicker? Karkat's jaw dropped.
Equius. Fucking. Zahhak.
xxx
The younger (but STRONGER) of the two Zahhak brothers ran through the city streets in the dark of after-midnight. He knew exactly how to reach his destination. Several ways to, in fact, just in case he needed to make a detour at any point in his route. He sprinted along, nearly barreling into pedestrians that obstructed his path. That wasn't important, though. What was important was getting to where he needed to be.
He knew how long it would approximately take to reach Nepeta's house from his general location. As he rounded a corner, knocking over a fully grown man in the process, he calculated that he would arrive in about nine and a half minutes. Leaving the peeved shouts behind him, Equius raced on, muscular legs working like nonstop pistons, propelling him quickly towards his goal. But not quickly enough. Never quickly enough.
As he ran and ran, metal-laced shoes pounding hard on the pavement, the dense urban scene began to dwindle around him. It regressed until he noticed he had entered the quaint suburbs. Nepeta's home was nearby. Equius felt the forceful staccato pulse of his heart as he rounded another corner and laid eyes on his destination at last: the Lejon residence, in all its homely glory.
He wasted very little time in charging headfirst into the street to cross it. Just then, a car rounded the same corner and nearly collided with him. Instead, he was fast enough to dodge the majority of it; the front, however, barely scraped his shoe. Ignoring the blasting honk of irritation from the car as it sped away, he continued his dash across the street.
In no time, he'd cleared the street, the sidewalk, and the front lawn of the residence. Equius leaped the three steps in one go, and, without pausing, proceeded to kick down the door to Nepeta's house in the most dramatic and I-Mean-Business fashion he could muster. He didn't worry about the state of the door. It could be replaced later, after Nepeta's safety had been assured.
Equius strode with purpose into the house he knew well. It was welcoming to him, even in the dead of the night. Without pause, he marched up the stairs, passing by various school photos of Nepeta and Meulin, progressing with age the further up the stairs he went. He entered a hallway, scanning it briefly before laying his gaze upon the second door on the right- Nepeta's room.
The door gave way easily beneath his iron-laced shoe. Yet another thing that could be replaced. His friend could not be. Quickly, his gaze swept the room, and he felt his blood run cold when he saw no sign of Nepeta, sleeping or otherwise. Equius inspected the room further. Her bed was immaculate; kitten-covered comforter neat and almost beckoning. He turned his head to look at the computer on the desk. He drew closer, and inspected the screen. It was still on, the only light he'd seen in the house so far.
On the screen was a Trollian chat box. Equius's eyes narrowed behind his cracked sunglasses, and he gritted his teeth in annoyance. She had been talking to him again.
arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]
AC: :33 *ac pouncegr33ts her brother-to-be with furrocious gl33 and nuzzles his sl33k fur whilst purring giddily*
AC: :33 *ac purrs good morning karkitty!*
AC: :33 did you sl33p well?
AC: :33 i mean
AC: :33 *ac paws at karkitty and meows chippurrly did you sl33p well?*
He checked the timestamp. The messages had been sent earlier in the morning. The muscular teenager deduced that she'd left her computer on by accident that morning and had never returned home to turn it off.
Never returned home...
Red flags went off everywhere in Equius's mind. He had been right this whole time. Something had happened to Nepeta.
Just as he turned and exited the room, hell bent on finding out what had happened to his friend, his phone vibrated in his pocket, and his ringtone blared. Equius jumped in surprise, quickly regained his cool, and fished out his phone. The caller was Horuss. No sooner had he accepted the call than his older brother's voice was pouring from the device.
"Equius! Where are you right now? I've just discovered something! Something that might help us properly locate Father!"
"Hush," he commanded curtly. His brother's semi-raspy voice was at a most unpleasantly loud volume. "Right now, I am in Nepeta's household. She is not here. Nor the other Leijons, it seems. Most suspicious..."
"Ahem. Yes, quite suspicious."
There was a pause before Equius beckoned his brother to continue with what he was saying before. "Yes... What exactly did you discover?"
"Hm? Oh! Yes! I- er, well..."
Equius sighed, beginning to lose what little patience he possessed. "Go o-"
"Well, I believe that it was definitely required, given the circumstances, ahem, but I, during my investigation, happened to venture into Father's room- for evidence, see- and I stumbled upon a small note, hidden in a very clever spot."
Equius was immediately intrigued. "What did the note say?"
"Erm, well, it had an address on it..."
"What is the address?"
"Oh yes, sorry. One moment, let me fetch the note..."
About a minute later, Horuss relayed to him the address that had been inscribed on the note. Equius furrowed his brows as his brother went on and on about something or other. He thought the address over. If memory served, that particular location was situated in a rather (relatively) sparsely populated section of the urban area. What did that mean...? Was his father alright? Was Nepeta alright?
He caught the last of Horuss's sentences. "So, I will meet you there as soon as I can, okay? Excellent. See you soon!" There was a click as his older brother hung up the phone, and Equius did the same a moment later.
A new destination. Things were getting more and more complicated
xxx
When Equius rounded the final corner and saw his brother's abominably-colored Mustang parked in a most conspicuous manner at a particular spot on the side of the road, he knew he was in the right place. He jogged up to the car, coming to a halt as Horuss stepped outside of the vehicle. The older came to stand beside the younger, and both looked up at their destination: A long-abandoned warehouse.
Equius scoffed. The place didn't even look like it should still have been standing. Hell, he bet that if he did so much as opened the door, the place would fall apart at the seams. That probably wasn't too far from the truth. Bearing that in mind, he gestured towards the old wooden door and looked at his older brother. "You go first," he insisted, and his older brother readily obliged.
Equius cautiously trailed after Horuss as they entered. Once inside, he took a long, sweeping look upwards. There was a case of rickety spiral steps that wound up the building, and he could see straight up to the high, high ceiling. The place was dark, really dark. Even if he took off his sunglasses, Equius knew that his vision wouldn't have been much better.
He turned his attention to his brother, who had ventured further in. Red flags. So many of them. He reached out to stop Horuss. "Horuss, wai-"
The Zahhak boy was cut off by a piercing, ringing gunshot, followed by some slightly-muted cries of surprise (or pain). Equius's head snapped in the direction the sound had come from, and began to stride swiftly in that direction immediately. Something deep inside of him told him that Nepeta (and maybe his father, too) was nearby, and he would be damned if he'd let something happen to her (or them, depending).
He came to a door. A heavy, steel door. One that would obviously be no match for his STRENGTH. He would prove himself right, he decided. "Horuss," he called to his brother. "Over here!" And with that, he kicked that damn door right off of its hinges. Without paying much attention to where it landed, he surveyed the scene as his brother came up behind him.
Nepeta.
Her family, too.
And... those Vantas rats. The younger was still displaying the injuries from that afternoon. But those weren't the only people in the room.
Ms. Serket snickered lightly as she turned to face the two Zahhak children. "Good evening, boys." Her snickering evolved into delighted cackling. "Are you looking for your daddy?"
xxx
Happy Homestuck Day, my Lovelies!
Thank you for reading this fic thus far! Please do tell me what you think, and be sure to have an absolutely wonderful 4/13!
