Trigger warning for homophobia coming from parental figures.
Thank you to all who answered last chapters question. I got a lot of well thought out answers from quite a few folks! You all had excellent answers and questions of your own. Thank you so much for responding! Now I have another question - pertaining to Gamzee.
Question:
We know Gamzee is a drug addict, addicted to a drug that nearly killed him and has killed other users. After suffering through the agonizing testing trials of the counter drug, going through rehab and serving his sentence, do you think he will have the strength in himself to be a better person? Do you think Karkat would forgive him? How do you see Gamzee as a person? Do take pity on him? Do you loathe him? Is he redeemable? What do you think?
Other news:
On my authors blog (disorganizedpatriot on tumblr) I made a list of head canons for the main characters of this fic:
( /post/102481101197/headcanons )
It contains their ethnic/racial background, favorite foods, stupid things like how easily they burn in the sun, etc. (because Im a giant nerd.)
SO, as always, I am ever so thankful for your attention and affection. I cherish each of your comments and reviews like the petals on a particularly beautiful rose. Thank you so much. Feel free to ponder on my question and tell me your answer in a review or tumblr ask!
ALSO, I FORGOT TO MENTION IN LAST CHAPTER, A FELLOW WRITER BASED A FIC OFF OF MY FIC AND IT'S BEAUTIFUL, PLEASE GO READ IT AND TELL HOW GREAT THEY ARE. IT'S BY Dirkjake_lover15! (AO3)
"So tell us… what do you remember?"
Gamzee sat before the council. He was still in a hospital gown, tubes and needles buried in his flesh. The whites of his eyes were red and his usually brown eyes seemed nearly black. He was dazed but no longer confused. He rubbed his burning eyes and sighed. "My dealer was taken into custody… I was having withdrawn a-and…" He softly wept; tears didn't come from his eyes but he did weep. He just had no tears left to cry, be it because he was dehydrated and his eyes were dry or because he had already cried all that he could. He gasped for air.
"Take your time, son." Said a councilman.
"I was destroying the room. I had torn apart furniture, broken the window, I was throwing things out the broken window. Karkat tried to calm me down and I… I started beating him. I… I felt his nose crunch under my fist but I kept on hitting him. I don't know why. I just couldn't stop. I was so, so angry with him, at my dealer…I took it out on Kat…" He froze. He began to think about Karkat again. Was he okay?
"And you feel remorse for what you've done, James?"
"Yes! Of course, I do… I think about it all the time. I wonder how I could have never forgotten…"
"That isn't your fault entirely."
There was an intermission of about three hours while they reconsidered their consequences. Gamzee was put in a temp cell and monitored closely while he waited and waited and waited out those long three hours. The council argued and discussed amongst themselves and then finally called him back.
"Due to the circumstances we have reconsidered your sentence. We could have never predicted the drugs effect on your judgment and personality. You are no stranger to us. We know of your history and struggle with drugs – your motivations and reason. Therefore, we are sentencing you to fifteen months in a detention and rehabilitation center. We've arranged a number of-"
Gamzee furrowed his brow. Detention center? "N-No…"
"Pardon?"
"No." He spoke more clearly. "You sawwhat I did to him. I deserve prison. I-"
"James…" spoke one of the council members. "You have what it takes to recover. Frankly, I don't know what has gotten you this far, but I'm going to say it's the will of some god. You'll thank us for our mercy later. "
Gamzee accepted his new sentence silently. He wondered if Karkat would forgive him if he got on track. Hell, even if he did recover from the drugs, he'd still be a hood rat… No… he wouldn't be. He'd get a job. He'd go to school, get a degree and man up. It was about time he took a stand for himself… and for the people around him. Had to stand up to the only monster that had ever been hiding in his room at night, in dark corners, under the bed or in the closet – himself.
~ o0o ~
John made himself coffee and poured maple syrup over his waffles. They were his, no one else's, he wasn't going to share – especially with Jake English (because what a jerk).Jake came down, rather surprised to find John sitting at the island having breakfast by himself and reading gossip on his network feed. He teasingly went to grab one of his waffles and got a fork to the hand.
"OW! John, what the heck?" He laughed it off. John ignored him and Jake knew that something was very wrong. He grabbed a box of juice and sat beside him. "So, uh… any news on the convention schedule."
"You're going too, so you would know too." John replied coldly.
Jake sighed. "What's the matter?"
"I could tell Dave the whole truth, you know. It'd fucking crush him." Jake didn't need any context. He wasn't completely stupid.
"How much do you know?" He asked after a long minute of silence.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" John hissed. "I find out that you're cheating on me and you're only concerned about how much I know?"
Jake shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that!"
"Um, yeah. You did." John growled, looking him straight in the eyes.
"John, look…"
John got up and placed his plate in the sink before leaning his back against the counter to hear Jake's excuses. "All you had to do was tell me. We could have worked something out."
"I… yeah, I guess…"
"You guess? Take a better fucking guess." John punched him in the ribs. It hurt, but Jake didn't complain knowing he deserved it.
"John, please, can we talk about this?" Jake nearly pleaded.
"Can we? Are you sure you don't want to go talk to Dirk?"
Jake grabbed his arm and pulled him close. "Yeah! I am sure." His grip was firm and his tone was severe. It took John by surprise. John yanked himself away from him. "I made a mistake, alright?" Jake continued.
A tear rolled from the corner of John's eye. Jake saw it glisten and watched it roll down his cheek. He reached out to catch it, to swipe it away but his hand was slapped off course. "Plural."
"What?"
"You made mistakes – more than one. You don't fool me, Jake."
Jake kept his mouth shut because he knew he couldn't argue with that. John shook his head in disbelief. "You know, my parents don't talk to me." John whispered. "When I turned eighteen I came out to my parents. I thought it was my first step into manhood – taking a leap of faith. I thought that it would be okay! I mean, you're parents are alwaysthere for you. No matter what." He scoffed. "I told my mom that I wanted to stay home that night and that I would cook dinner as thanks for all the years they took care of me. I set the table, I got out family recipes, I even dressed nicely and at the end of the meal I said, "im dongseongae – I'm gay"." Jake stayed quiet and listened. John continued. "They didn't react. They finished in silence. We went about our lives. Weeks later they suggested that I move out. They said it would be good more me to transition from home to living on my own. They helped me hunt for apartments until they found a nice place with decent rent on the edge of Korea-Town. They helped me move all of my things. I was speaking to my mother about the excitement of moving out, of being a man but she was quiet. She was never quiet - always nagging about something… I turned around and my father said to me, "dangsin-eun salam-i anida – you are not a man." He looked me right in the eyes with no remorse. I tried to laugh it off but they just… stood there. I thought my mom of all people would back me up but…" John wiped his tears and held back a sob. "She told me, jib-e oji ma – don't come home." Then they left."
Jake's voice cracked when he spoke. "J-John…"
"Even in a fairly priced apartment, rent was hard to pay. I didn't made a lot of money slicing fish in the market and delivering mail. I tried other jobs but… I wasn't happy. I was living on nothing but instant noodles and soured milk. I couldn't go home and I had no one to call for help. So I turned to sex. Why not? It felt good. It was the only think that felt good. Why not do it for money?"
Jake furrowed his brows. Why was he tell him this - why now? "That's… when you got into porn?"
John smiled and laughed lightly. "No. This is before that." He took a deep breath. "I had standards – politicians, business men… People who would pay big money for just a few hours with someone warm and soft. Some paid me to travel with them. Before I knew it, I was drowning in cash. I put it away, let it accumulate, and got myself out."
"Fuck, man..." Jake whispered absent minded.
"It made things easy for a while… but money doesn't last forever. I made a few careless investments, got cocky. It wasn't as bad as before. An old client's friend approached me, said he had a business and wanted me aboard. He told me I'd never have to do anything I didn't want to do, that I'd be free to leave when I chose…that I'd be safe. It was an offer I'd be an idiot to refuse. That'swhen I got into porn. That's when I met you." John smiled warmly at the memory. "You were perfect. When you smiled you would glow and warm up the room. I was convinced that the sun shined out your ass." He laughed at his own remark. "I built my world around you because you filled up the emptiness inside my chest. You made me feel at home when I wasn't allowed to go home. So don't act like I'm in the wrong for being hurt.Don't act like I'm in the wrong for scolding you.I trusted you…"
"I didn't know any of that…" Jake whispered.
"Knowing wouldn't have changed what you've done."
Jake hung his head low, staring at the ground. "I love you…" "I guess your love wasn't enough… neither was mine." John walked upstairs, hiding away in his room. Jake was left to sit alone and ponder, sulking in regret. He threw his phone into the wall with anger pulsing through him. "God-fucking-dammit. God dammit!" He growled to himself. A voice from within himself began to mock him. "Poor Jacob… can't beat your own game?"