"I don't know why I even bother anymore," Karkat talked as he stood over the sink, washing dishes with an aggression not normally exhibited in day-to-day chores, "I mean, no one really listens to me, do they? They all just blow me off as that angry guy with the stupid ideas..."
The only way you could get Karkat to do chores is if you let him talk. It was late in the day, but the sun was still glowing golden-red over the city. I sat outside on the step, chewing on the crust of some toast, with Sollux and Eridan by my sides. It had become routine, you might say, for the four of us to eat together and enjoy the evenings. Aside from the fact that Sollux and Eridan hated each other with an almost romantic passion, and Karkat sort of hated everyone, we seemed to get along well enough. I hadn't been properly introduced to Sollux until a week or so ago, when Karkat and I noticed him wandering aimlessly around Main Street. He'd claimed he was busy, but he just seemed rather lonely and somewhat sad, so we encouraged him to come along with us. He didn't talk much, but was always scoffing or rolling his eyes at Karkat and Eridan, who weren't nearly as shy. He treated me with even less respect, barely daring to talk to me unless I spoke to him first, which I usually didn't. Karkat, however, talked enough for everyone.
"I'm not that bad, am I?" he shot an accusatory glance at Sollux, who raised his bony hands to his shoulders and shrugged in surrender. His rolled his eyes as Karkat huffed angrily in the direction of his dishtowel. Eridan nibbled inconspicuously on his toast.
"I just have a lot to talk about. There's a lot to think about. There's a lot to do," He lifted a pile of clean plates into the cupboard above his head, "And if I want something done right, I usually have to do it myself."
Sollux nodded, partially in agreement, partially to fulfill the obligatory response that came from being conversational partners with Karkat. He ruffled his own poorly cut blonde hair. His bangs hung so far in front of his face that they nearly interrupted his line of sight. His pale yellow jacket, apparently a beaten-down suede or low-quality leather, was unraveling at the wrists. He pushed the sleeves up to his elbows, and cleared his throat.
"Do you have anything else to eat around here, or what?" Sollux finally worked up the courage to mumble. I took another look. It was easy to ignore under the leathery folds of his jacket, but he was frightfully thin. His eyes were smoky and sunken beneath the lenses of his glasses, and his cheeks were flat and hollow.
Karkat looked over his shoulder, placing the last few clean dishes in their cupboards with a satisfying clink. Sollux looked regretfully at the floor, and whispered something to himself that might've been "Oh, nevermind…" Karkat cocked his head, mildly surprised.
"Of course," his voice softened a little, "Our house is your house, idiot. You take whatever you need."
Sollux nodded a little bit, his sharp shoulders collapsing even farther in on themselves. He didn't look anybody in the eye. Eridan placed a hand on his shoulder. Sollux shot a critical glance at him, but didn't object. I felt like I should be doing something. I rubbed my thumb against the crust of my toast. I held it out half-heartedly in front of Sollux, who glanced once at the bread, and then up at me somewhat pathetically. I smiled at him, and nodded my head encouragingly. Eridan's discrepant frown faded slightly as he handed the remainder of his own toast to Sollux as well. Sollux looked like he was about to cry. Karkat grinned at him, walking towards the door and sitting next to him on the steps. I had to scoot over a bit, but I didn't mind. Eridan growled annoyedly, but let Karkat squeeze in between him and Sollux. Karkat's thick, small hands were wet still, and soap bubbles gathered between his fingers. He rubbed them off on his shirt before forcefully and awkwardly taking hold of Sollux's free hand. Sollux made a small squeaking noise and blushed, biting his tongue. Karkat shifted his damp hand in Sollux's, coughing to himself and staring intensely at the ground. Eridan raised his eyebrows in surprise, and suppressed a giggle. Karkat's cheeks glowed bright red. I smiled.
"A-ahh…" Sollux tried to say something, but it came out like more of a murmur than a sentence. He clung to his charity toast and Karkat's hand as if they were of roughly the same importance, but Karkat looked more as if we were saving a life. Eridan found them absolutely hilarious, and was forced to cover his mouth with his hands to avoid a fit of laughter. Karkat glared scornfully at him.
"Shut the fuck up." Eridan only laughed harder. Sollux still looked fairly confused. I rested my head in my hands. I had such strange friends.
My head snapped back up as the sound of a gunshot echoed through my ears.
All at once, our heads turned in the direction of the shot, which couldn't have been more than a block away. Not a second following, an agonizing shout rang out, and a woman's screams. I recognized that shout. I recognized those screams. And so did Karkat.
By the time I had scrambled to my feet, Karkat had torn his hand from Sollux's and taken off down the street as fast as I had ever seen him run. Sollux stumbled to his feet and ran as well, a glimmer of panic in his oddly colored eyes. Eridan ran after them at full tilt. Karkat, however, had rounded the street corner before I'd had a moment to process the situation. His instincts had kicked in immediately.
I rounded the corner, following my momentum, but skidded to a halt behind Karkat, who was standing firm and still over the body slumped over on the sidewalk. Julia, the apprentice seamstress, held her face in her hands, her eyes clouded with frantic tears. Kankri inhaled shakily from the ground, a dark red tear in his chest seeping blood onto the pavement and onto his hands as he clutched his heart. I could see, through my perepheral vision, an officer of the law escaping the scene of his violence, a shotgun still smoking ominously in his guilty hands. The officer shook his head angrily and ran. Julia stared after him, her fearful eyes growing larger as helpless sobs crowded her throat.
Kankri suppressed a painful moan, and Karkat dropped to his knees, leaning over his mortally wounded brother. Karkat clutched his brother's bloody hands, muttering pannicked reassurances. Julia was crying too hard to breathe. She tried to inhale, but looked as if she were drowing. Sollux ran to her side, attempting to hush her with a pat on the shoulder, of which her only response was to tear herself from his grasp and fall to her knees beside Kankri. His eyes were barely open, and his head hung almost lifelessly at his side. Karkat clung to his blood-stained hands, trying to keep him from slipping into unconciousness.
"Kankri," Karkat's voiced wavered with aggressive uncertaintly, "Kankri, don't fucking die on me, you useless son of a bitch..." Karkat pressed his hand against Kankri's cheek, leaving a smear of blood. "I need you!"
Sollux and Eridan took a couple steps back, transfixed by Karkat's sudden display of affection. Julia leaned over Kankri, a few of her silver tears falling to Kankri's chest. He winced, as if the pain of the bullet had overwhelmed him again. His face was as pale as a snowstorm, and his eyes were focused through the clouds, towards the heavens. His colorless lips moved in the subconcious rhythm of silent prayers. Thou father who art in heaven. Deliver me from my sins. Dear God, please. Deliver me.
Kankri eyes plummeted back to life. "Kar...Karkat," he muttered, grasping his brother's hand with returned firmness now.
"Yes? What is it, Kankri? You're going to be okay, you hear me?! You're going to live," tears were forming in Karkat's eyes as he clutched desperately to the hand of his brother, his guide, his lifeline. Karkat would not let go.
"I...I need you to..." Kankri struggled to get the words out, but Karkat nodded after everything he said, encouraging him to try a little bit harder. Julia rested her hands lightly on his chest, his blood dampening her skin. She gazed at him like a dying angel. Kankri's sightline drifted to Julia's face for a moment, and he made brief eye contact with her. He whispered to her, as she leaned closer over his face, "I... I need... you... please..."
"Please what-" She started to whisper back to him, but before the words had left her tongue, Kankri had locked their lips together in a gentle, tender embrace. She closed her eyes and let a few deathly silent tears roll off her cheeks as she pulled away. Kankri's eyes were nearly shut, his body had ceased movement, and the blood that had been seeping from his body was staining the sidewalk. "K-Kankri?" she whispered to his frozen face.
"Forgive him..." Kankri's lips closed around his final sentence. His eyes slid slowly into the realm of the lifeless, his eyelids like partially closed curtains on a brutal tragedy. Karkat still clung to his dead hand, a dumbfounded disbelief falling over his face. Julia whispered to herself, rising slowly to her feet. Forgive him. Forgive him.
Julia took Karkat's hand and helped him to his feet. Karkat was shaking with emotion. His face was cold and distant. "I'm going to kill him," Karkat muttered to himself, or perhaps to Julia, "I'm going to kill that bastard who murdered my brother." Julia just put her arms around him, her own shame and sadness keeping her from a response. Karkat looked at the blood on his hands. And where was I? I had not moved an inch. I had stood, but only five feet away, from a dying friend. I had been standing, observing, no will to help and no strength to mourn. I, as always, had done nothing.
"No," Eridan said, tugging me out of my own thoughts and back to the great and terrible truth. "No, you can't kill him."
Karkat growled in despairing anger, looking off into the maze of streets in which the killer had escaped. In which he had allowed the killer to escape, pinning the blame on him. "I can find him. I can make him pay for what he did."
Eridan shook his head. He hadn't spoken a word, shed a tear or moved a muscle. His voice maintained it's solid tone, although Karkat's voice cracked and wavered with emotion. His sincerity anchored me to reality. Karkat could hear the hesitation in his own voice, and turned to Eridan for an explination, for help, for something.
"Forgive him," Eridan recited Kankri's dying wish, "He was talking about the officer. He wants you to forgive the officer that shot him."
Karkat stood, confused for a moment. Revenge or forgiveness. What would Kankri have wanted? The answer couldn't have been more obvious.
Karkat's eyes stung with salty tears. Julia had drifted to Sollux's side, and was clinging to the sleeve of jacket like a life raft. I shoved my hands in my pockets, staring at Kankri's bloody, lifeless body slumped over on the street. I had always made the assumption that the face of death was a peaceful one. But Kankri didn't look peaceful at all. He just looked... dead.
Eridan rolled the kinks out of his shoulders and bent down next to Kankri, taking the body into his arms. The tallest and strongest, it was his obligation to carry the body to a final resting place. With an exhausted grunt, Eridan rose to his feet, Kankri's body hanging wearily in his arms, blood rubbing off onto his skin.
"Let's get out of here," he reccommended.
Karkat nodded in silent approval, taking care to walk several paces in front of everyone else. Julia was, undoubtedly, unable to return to her previous engagement, and was clearly unable to detach herself from Sollux's arm. She glanced back at the bloodstains on the sidewalk with pain in her eyes.
Karkat diverted from the path home, and walked, instead, out to the fields. The fields were not useful for agriculture; the soil was too cold and soft. A ring of forest also border the fields, blocking most sunlight from the land. The fields could serve as a burial site for the dully departed.
I found myself strangely void of feeling on our silent procession. I had seen a man die. Not only seen, mind you, but I had consciously stood by and let it happen. Karkat and Julia mourned in the moment. I guiltily caught myself wondering if I would miss him at all.
If Karkat had been the one to die, no doubt I would have kissed him on his deathbed. No doubt I would have cried over his lifeless carcass and smeared myself with his blood. No doubt I would have been holding my breath on his every sentence. No doubt I would have cried over him. If Eridan had been the one to die, no doubt I would have been paralyzed. No doubt I would have to be dragged away from his body, kicking and screaming, in plain and simple denial. No doubt I wouldn't have lasted through a night without him. No doubt I would have taken a cold, rusty blade to my own wrists to follow him into the afterlife. Without a second thought.
I thought through these scenarios, my eyes glued to Kankri's dead body, his neck bent back at a terrifyingly lifeless angle and his hair sticky with his own blood. I did not cry for him. I could only look at him with a kind of blank terror and a kind of morbid curiosity. I had never really known him at all, had I? His life was a book I had never read, a story I had never been told.
Or maybe I had been told; I had only failed to listen.