Chapter 8: Death, Karkat

The next morning, Karkat got up to make breakfast as per usual. He wouldn't let recent happenings deter him from his duty as John's guardian, and looked at them as just another test. He woke John as breakfast was cooking, telling him to get ready for the day. "Just because you aren't a virgin any more doesn't make you a special butterfly," he said gruffly, rolling his eyes. He found himself strangely okay with everything now. It was John's choice, and it wasn't all that bad. At least he hadn't slept with a guy. Then Karkat might've been really offended.

John still seemed a bit hesitant to look Karkat in the eyes when he shuffled into the kitchen, clean and fully clothed, which only made Karkat scoff under his breath. "John, it was your choice, I'm over it. There was nothing for me to be mad for in the first place. Stop acting like I hit you or some shit." Let John do what he wanted. Sometimes, people only learned from experience, and Karkat himself knew that all too well.

Despite Karkat's forgiveness, the rest of breakfast was spent in silence. It was a day as usual, however, because life had to go on. Karkat dropped John off, then went to train with Meenah, who seemed to notice that he was more focused than usual but said nothing. Karkat was internally grateful for that, and showed it by working harder, especially in the review and sparring portions of their routine. Meenah gave a nod of approval when he managed to disarm her for the first time since they'd started their training, and some weight on Karkat's shoulders seemed to lift, no matter how small the amount. Maybe he was cut out to be an elite- though he hadn't consciously doubted it before, so he had no idea where that thought came from.

He got to leave early that day for his doubled efforts, and, sweaty, tired, and dirty, but feeling proud, he went to watch John finish up with his training for the day. They were doing aerial maneuvers, ones that Karkat could do with ease, and far outpaced the skill and finesse of the Gifteds. But they had probably just started learning it that day, he reasoned. He went to sit with the other guardians, and Nepeta and Gamzee both clamored for his attention as soon as he sat down, Kanaya looking on with amusement.

"You enjoy my pain, don't you?" Karkat asked sarcastically, once he's escaped from both cat and clown, sitting beside Kanaya as they watched the two of them bicker over something unintelligible. He had to admit, though, he was fond of all of them, even if he wouldn't ever say it out loud. They were his extended family, in a way. They'd been there for him since he was a kid.

Kanaya smiled, seeming to sense his feelings, like she always seemed to do. "Karkat, you know very well I am not inclined to receive my entertainment from the suffering of others. Do not think that I do not notice how you enjoy their attention. You take great pleasure in the fact that they choose to show their affection for you as a friend very openly."

Karkat's cheeks burned, but he nodded. "Whatever," he grumbled, shrugging indifferently, like he didn't care that she saw right through him. This only caused Kanaya to smile knowingly and pat his shoulder, unperturbed by his attitude. They sat in blissful silence, broken only by the occasional scuffle below, for the rest of the training period, until it was finally time to go back inside to eat and rest.

John still seemed a bit embarrassed, but otherwise, he was back to his normal, abnormally cheery self as he led Karkat to the dining hall with the others. The guardian didn't know why he was surprised when they entered a room with a long table, almost like the Council's own dining hall, but lacking the more sophisticated air of that meant for the leaders of their colony, not to mention that it was also missing a fireplace. Karkat trailed after John warily, settling down beside him, Nepeta seating herself across from him (beside Jade), and Gamzee sitting on his other side. The older Gifteds and their Guardians were already making merry at the other end of the table, rowdy and loud as they took their food, though not by any means being absurdly obnoxious. They were only being moderately unbearable, which Karkat supposed he could bear for just this little while.

The younger portion of the fairies were being fairly quiet and tame in comparison. They were still loud in their own right, of course. But while they were simply enjoying each others' company, they would plainly hear the war stories being related at the other end of the table, as well as the sharp interludes of bellowed ballads that made some of them cringe. Even with his own high volume, Karkat couldn't see how they could possibly make so much noise.

Karkat gratefully partook in the meat and vegetables set before him, lined up along the center of the table so that the fairies could pick whatever they liked. He grabbed a portion of the sliced pigeon and some of the boiled potatoes, messily slathered in gravy, as well as a few biscuits. With added butter to the warm bread, it was like heaven, so light as he bit into it that he thought it melted in his mouth.

"Enjoying the bread, brother?" Gamzee's sharp elbow bit into his side lightly, and Karkat scowled as he looked over at him with narrowed eyes. "Hey, don't look so motherfucking hostile!" He gave Karkat a friendly grin, his arm moving to go around his shoulders in a half-hug, wearing his usual drugged-out expression.

Karkat rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Yeah, whatever. The bread is pretty good." He took a bite of his potatoes, trying to get Gamzee to realize that he would rather eat than talk, but as the clown-obsessed fairy kept looking at him, he could tell he didn't get the hint. The mutant sighed, sitting back a bit and looking at him. "The potatoes are good, too." He wasn't used to the rich gravy on his food, or any of the other lavish foods, but he thought that he could certainly do more in training to finish early more often if it meant eating this every day. "Did you guys get this extravagant shit while you were in training?"

"Oh, no, most certainly not," Kanaya interjected from across the table, smiling at her old friend. Karkat gave her a deadpan look, thinking that she, of all fae, would know that he wanted to be left alone right now to eat in peace. But at the knowing look in her eyes, he knew that she did realize it, and she wanted him to talk to someone else for once. He did usually only have contact with John and Meenah on a daily basis, after all, and with those two, he either hardly spoke to them or fought them for most of the day, respectively.

"Are we talking to Karkitty now?"

It was around the middle of the meal that disaster decided to pay its old friend a visit. Karkat didn't even notice the small, slender messenger enter the room until he was at his side, saying over the noise that he had an urgent notice for Karkat Vantas. Karkat was hit by a sudden sense of dread, only able to imagine the worst. "I'm right here, what is it?" He waved his hand, and the messenger turned to him, his face somber. He handed over the envelope he held, bowed, and then made his exit, a look of pity in his eyes as he glanced back at Karkat fleetingly.

The seal was gray. That was the first thing Karkat noticed. Then he realized that imprinted upon the gray wax was the sign of the colony's mortuary. The mortuary? Why would he have any reason to be contacted by them? A chill ran up his spine in a room full of hot-blooded warriors on a summer evening. He clumsily picked at the seal, all grace abandoned in his anxiety. He was eventually able to peel it open, lifting neatly off of the opposite side of the yellow paper of the envelope. It crinkled noisily in his hands, and he couldn't help but think that he was about to break down, because it seemed to drown out all other sound in his ears.

The writing was messy, a scrawling cursive with words written closely together in black ink that he could barely read. He really wished he couldn't read it at all as his eyes drew painstakingly down the lines, feeling a cold numbness settling into him. He stood abruptly would've sent his chair clattering back if John hadn't caught it, and walked right out of the room, blank-faced and ignoring the cries of the others behind him. He didn't know where he was going, really, if he was heading in the right direction to get back to the rooms or not, but he found that he really didn't care. He finally stopped as he turned down a third long, deserted hallway, and he sank down with his back to the wall, staring blankly at the one across from him.

Footsteps. He could hear quick, light footsteps coming down the hallway he'd just come from. Someone had come after him. He didn't care. He wondered when he had crumpled the paper in his hand. Someone was crouching beside him now, cradling his shoulders in a motherly way. Kanaya. Kanaya had come to comfort him. He found his shoulders shaking and his eyes swimming with tears as she pulled him in to her chest. He couldn't stop crying, why couldn't he stop crying? He never cried.

He distantly acknowledged that Kanaya was smoothing back his hair, asking in a gentle voice what was wrong. Karkat couldn't find his own to tell her. Instead, he held out his hand, the paper still crinkled inside of his fist, and with some difficulty, he opened it for her so she could lift the paper, smooth it out. He knew she was reading it, and he repeated it to himself inside of his head, the words seared in his mind.

Dear Mister Karkat Vantas,

We are dreadfully sorry to inform you that your father has passed away. He was on a hunting trip when he was caught by a stray sprite and was killed upon contact, later to be found by a gatherer. We heartily apologize, and offer our sincerest regrets unto you. If possible, your correspondence for approval of his send-off plans (seen below) should be immediate. We look forward to seeing you at his service, young Mister Vantas, and again express our deepest condolences.

Sincerest regards,

Spero Colony Mortuary

And below that was a bunch of bullshit that he didn't bother reading. He would write the approval letter later, knowing he'd probably still be in this zombie-like state, unable to really think or feel anything but the coldness spreading through him, touching upon every vein and organ, clutching him and eating him up, greedy, insatiable. It seeped into the very marrow of his bones; he could feel it acutely, since it was the only thing he could really feel.

Fairies took grief very harshly. Karkat knew he was no exception to this rule.

"Oh, Karkat." Kanaya pressed a kiss into his hair, still so motherly and gentle, even in her sad sigh. "We have to take your mind off of this... You know what grief does to fairies if they dwell upon it for too long, Karkat..." He dimly acknowledged that now, several more people were coming down the hall, and by their inability to keep themselves quiet, he determined it was the rest of their group of Gifteds and guardians. All of them? Really? He didn't need this shit while he was crying. He didn't want any more fairies than had to to see him like this, weak and collapsing in on himself.

Suddenly, he didn't mind as much, as the others were upon him- and no one laughed. They... they were hugging him? Huddling around him? Someone was wiping at his tears, and he turned his head to see Jade thumbing them away with a sympathetic smile. Even Strider was on his knees, one of the fairies nearest to Karkat, as he hugged him awkwardly. Then he noticed that John wasn't around, wasn't part of the group that had come to see him, and he looked around, then inquired to his whereabouts with a little hiccup. Nepeta and Jade exchanged a glance, and Gamzee gave him a smile that was almost wary. "He went back to your room," Rose finally said, nodding sympathetically, and a surge of anger suddenly bubbled up in him. Sympathy? For him, just because John wasn't there?

He started to stand after a few more minutes, shaking the others off with a growl of, "I want to sleep."

"Karkat," Kanaya began uncertainly, glancing around a bit, as if searching for approval among the others, "are you sure that you should sleep now? Your grief is still fresh, and if you sleep now..." She trailed off, but everyone else nodded agreement. They all knew what could happen to a fairy raw with grief when they slept.

Karkat scowled at the idea, starting to get up. Everyone else moved out of his way so nobody would trip over anybody else or land in some kind of awkward situation. there wasn't any way his grief would overtake him like that- not that strongly. He mumbled a thanks for their caring as he stumbled away, trying not to feel numb, trying to break through that. He had people who cared, even if none of them were the person he found he wanted to care the most, since he had to live with him for as long as they both lived.

When he reached the apartment, it was strangely silent, but there were lights on to chase the darkness away. Karkat found some small comfort in that, though he was still cold with grief as he stumbled into the room. He didn't hear John anywhere in the apartment, and he tried to summon panic, but he couldn't even manage that. He was a terrible guardian. Then the bathroom door opened, and Karkat blinked at the form that emerged, hardly even relieved when he saw John was okay.

John, however, froze when he saw Karkat, in the middle of drying his hair off with the towel in his hands. He looked distinctly guilty, but there wasn't even enough anger in him to be mad at John. "You're okay." His voice was even flatter than Dave's usual tone, or at least how he usually tried to make it sound.

The guardian was suddenly locked in a tight embrace.

John was warm. Karkat felt the warmth seem into him and wash away the cold numbness, and he started to cry again. He didn't even understand himself, blabbering away unintelligibly. He was pretty certain he was telling John about the entire story of his childhood, and how much he'd loved his dad, but he wasn't one hundred percent sure.

Even though John probably had no idea what he was saying, he was nodding sympathetically, murmuring words of comfort as his hand ran through Karkat's hair. Just like that, he found that he loved John yet still, and for this new love that would remain unrequited he cried harder still, now just choking, wordless sobs. He clutched at John as though he were his lifeline- which, in a way, he was now. Karkat felt no other reason to continue living at that point than to protect John, his charge, his Gifted, his love. He wouldn't tell him this time, he swore that to himself, unless he was sure he was on his deathbed or in the unlikely case that John confessed to loving him first.

"Do you want me to make you hot chocolate?" John finally asked him worriedly after a while, when Karkat seemed to be winding down. "I know it always helps me when I'm upset. Or is there something else that you would rather me do for you, since, you know, you're a different person from me and all." He pulled away and gave karkat a weak smile, but it was enough for the guardian, who gave him his own little grin in return.

John patted his shoulder at that, giving him another tight hug before taking his hand and leading him into the kitchen. Seeing John so caring took all of the strength Karkat had and some he didn't at that moment to resist, wanting to press him against the counter and plant sweet, gentle kisses everywhere he could reach. He wanted to take of the forbidden fruit that was John, though of course he would not, not without the permission that John would never give. Instead he tamped down the urge, sitting at the chair John pulled out for him and mumbling his thanks.

He tried not to notice how beautiful John was as he went to make the hot chocolate. How his brow creased as he paid attention to every little detail of what he was doing, concentrating to proportion the ingredients perfectly. How much he'd rather have John concentrate on him like that, place his dark, slightly-parted lips over Karkat's own, and create paths over Karkat's body that no one had cared enough to forge before. He didn't talk as he worked, but hummed an off-key tune, stirring the contents of the pot on the stove, and Karkat made a silent note that John seemed a bit tone-deaf. The guardian forced himself to snap out of it as John finished, pouring out the pot into two mugs. He passed one to Karkat as he sat beside him. "Tell me if it's okay? I haven't made it in a while."

Karkat gave him another smile as he took a sip, nodding slowly. "Okay, you put the cocoa on a little thick. It's just a little bitter, and holy shit is that whiskey. John, what the fuck!" He gave him a half-startled, half-disgruntled look. "Hot chocolate and whiskey? When and where did you get fucking whiskey?"

"I take a little bit from the dining hall sometimes," John admitted, smiling sheepishly. "If my canteen for the day is already empty, or almost there. You don't have to tell me it's a weird mix. I know. I just though it would get us both to relax a little bit. It's been a long day." He lifted his mug to his lips and took a long swig of the frothy drink. For a few partially-awkward seconds, the only sound was John's drinking, then he set the brew down again. "What happened, anyway? What was in that letter? I mean, if you don't mind me asking and all."

There was another silence, this one more tense than the last. Then Karkat gave a laborious sigh, shaking his head. "It's alright. The letter was about my dad. He's, uh... There was an accident. He's... no longer with us." Karkat glanced away to try to keep John from seeing how upset he was, not wanting to endure further grief and cold and tears and comfort that would only serve to make Karkat feel like he was trapped all over again. He was John's friend now, even if neither of them said it. It was good enough for him.

He suddenly felt lips brush his ear, and he stiffened as John's arms wrapped around his waist. He could feel hot breath on the shell of his ear, and his face grew warm quickly. But before John spoke, his jaws snapped shut again, and he leaned his head on his shoulder. "Karkat... I... really want you to be happy. I want to be able to help you get through that grief. I know what it's like to lose someone... Or maybe I don't, since my mom was never really there, but I know that when I found out what happened to her, I was a mess for a few days. I... fuck, I'm probably messing this up. I'm not asking just because I want to get in your pants, okay, but because we're supposed to be life partners, and I want to make this work, somehow, and maybe I might be a little curious, but, shit, Karkat. Will you take me to bed tonight?"

This had to be some kind of dream, Karkat knew it did. He bit his lip and leaned into John's touch, turning to look at him for a minute before nodding slowly. "I will. I will, John. I promise you won't regret it. I'll make sure you're not hurt."

The younger fairy gave him a sincere smile, pressing his cheek to Karkat's shoulder. "Thank you, Karkat. Thank you."

They sat there for a while longer, sipping on John's bitter-burning mixture and killing time.

Well this chapter went well.

I hope you all think it was worth the wait.

- Silver