A few days passed, Karkat becoming more comfortable in Dad's presence. He had started helping more and more in the kitchen and around the house. It was pleasant to have a sort of family.

"Now boys, I have to go to a party tonight. I trust you both to behave." Dad Egbert sat with his newspaper folded neatly, Karkat frying bacon and flipping pancakes on the stove. John was still half asleep, hair even messier than usual. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses, and watched as Karkat served up heaping plates of sweet breakfast foods.

"Wow, Karkat! You sure know your way around the stove!" Dad chirped cheerfully. "Baking was always more my forte!" Karkat quirked an eyebrow and switched off the stove.

"I like baking," he mumbled, removing his apron and washing his hands before settling down at the table. Dad set down his knife and fork, smiling brighter than before.

"Then maybe you'd like to help me later? I always make cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning, and I'd love an extra hand." Karkat mulled it over, corners of his mouth switching up.

"I'd like that, Mr. Egbert." He nodded happily. The older man was doing nothing to make him feel unwelcome. In fact, it was practically like he was welcoming Karkat into the family.

"I'd prefer you call me dad, if you feel comfortable with it. You're part of our family now!" The older man smiled and Karkat nodded. Of course, it would take some getting used to.

He had slept well, snuggled up to John in the giant bed they shared. Dad saw no reason why the two couldn't share a room, and just asked the two not stay up to late.

"What do you wanna do today, Karkat?" John asked between heaping mouthfuls of food.

"I-uh actually was going to ask if we could walk around your property. I mean, you have all this... Well THIS and is love to see it up close," Karkat stuttered, a little shocked at the sudden question from the sleepy Egbert.

The few inches of snow on the ground crunched under their boots as Karkat and John took an early morning walk. They wore the matching mittens Rose had knitted, Karkat's scarf wrapped around his pale face and neck snugly. They breathed in the cold air, not saying much at all, instead listening to the birds twittering, and headed toward the wood that had zigzagging paths through it.

The temperature was a few degrees warmer in the canopy of trees, and Karkat was instantly swept into a classical winter wonderland. Evergreens perfumed the air with cool freshness, and the brown, red, and blue birds that darted to and fro, tweeting at the two boys.

They walked with little talk, Karkat's eyes wide with wonder. Breaking into a clearing that bordered the half-frozen lake, a stone bench sat stoically, alone under a covering of a tall evergreen.

"It's like a fairy tale..." Karkat whispered, dusting the snow off of the bench and gazing over the shimmery lake. His head turned to John suddenly.

"Hey, Egbert, come here," he beckoned, John coming closer. Karkat took his hands, and placed them accordingly on his shoulder and in his other hand.

"Karkat?" John asked a big confused. Karkat just smirked a bit and shook his head, placing his own hands.

"Shut up and follow my lead." With a small pressure to John's palms, Karkat lead him backwards. Their footsteps here slow, Karkat's confident, John's more unsure.

"One, two, three," Karkat chimed off, leading John in a slow waltz. Gradually John became more confident in Karkat's lead, and they sped up the tempo a bit.

In a few minutes Karkat was twirling around with John, spinning and dipping him. John didn't have the stamina of Karkat, though, and had to stop him, winded. Jet streamed clouds of white puffed from their mouths. Karkat took John's chin and brought him into a soft kiss.

They sat on the bench, hands clasping each other in mittens. They talked about nothing in particular, just random things that came to mind. Karkat made a contented purr in the back of his throat, and this was the first in a long time he felt any sort of resemblance of normal.

After about an hour of lounging in the cold by the lake, John lead Karkat back into the house, where Karkat finally noticed the giant Christmas tree in the living room. A polished grand piano stood like a silent, sentient being near the evergreen's fragrant needles.

"Oh, welcome back, boys! How was your walk?" Dad asked as he appeared from the kitchen, the two teens shrugging off coats and mittens, but still standing extremely close.

"It went great, dad. The lake patio is really pretty right now," John explained while Karkat stood quietly beside him. John had noticed something about his boyfriend.

Karkat no longer was loud and quick to shout, he'd become more reserved than ever. John finally understood what Karkat meant when they had spoken on the swings, about becoming distant. It wasn't an extreme emotional distance, but a change in behavior. Karkat was tired eyed, and less than talkative. He was broken. And it broke John to see him like that.

Dad seemed to notice the tension Karkat held, and spoke up. "Karkat, how would you like to help me in the kitchen? I'm making the dough for cinnamon rolls, and I'd love an extra hand." Karkat blinked a few times, and nodded shortly.

"Egbert," Karkat started, and both raven haired males looked at him, "John," he corrected, "Will you check on Kida and make sure she had water? She drinks a lot, and I know you're going to go play with Casey." Karkat smiled faintly, and John returned the grin.

"Of course I will, Karkat. I can't cook at all, so I'll leave that to you and dad!" The younger Egbert scampered off toward the stairs. Karkat turned to Dad, following him into the kitchen.

"You know, I never thought my son would end up with another boy," Dad started as they kneaded the thick dough. "He never expressed interest in anything, really. He was a fanatic about movies, or magic, or his little Casey. Maybe it's because he didn't have a mother, and I never gave him any sort of talk. I just tried to be supportive."

"Mr. Eg- I mean- D-Dad, see, that's the best thing you could have done. My.. My dad didn't really ever stick around, or... He... He was a bad man - is a bad man, I mean," Karkat said pausing his floured hands.

"If you support your child in what he does, he won't turn out like me. He'll turn out like John, and that's good."

"Karkat? What do you mean?" Dad pulled away from the dough and made Karkat face him.

"I'm not a good kid. I get in fights, I cuss, I get bad grades and I'm a pathetic excuse for a friend and a boyfriend. I can't even be close to John without being scared I'll end up breaking his heart."

"Karkat Vantas." Dad's tone was stern, and orange eyes found compassionate blue ones.

"Grades, or language, or who you love doesn't make up who you are. You're a lot more than that. You're your favorite books, your hobbies, the way you express your emotions. You're not a grade, or a bruise, or any sort of misfit, because you're human. Karkat Vantas you're a great person, a great boyfriend, and I can think of no one I'd rather my son have brought home, regardless of gender or past. You're made up of what you believe in, and nothing physical can change who you are. You are a good person, and you deserve to be happy."

Karkat trembled a bit under the hand on his shoulder, gulping at the thick knot in his throat. Dad pulled him in a tight hug; this was more than he'd expected from the cinnamon roll session, but he was still happy he could reach out and communicate with the distant, ghostly person John loved so dearly.

After a few short minutes they were already covering dough in plastic wrap and shoving it the double doored refrigerator. John came bumbling down the stairs the second Karkat finished brewing a pot of coffee.

Dad took his black with one sugar, John took his black with 8 sugars, while Karkat blended cream and sugar into his. They sipped in near silence, idle conversation in the air. Karkat was busy examining the small wall behind the kitchen table. Prizes from contests of piano and vocals lined the wall, all addressed to John, or two names he could only presume were his mom and dad.

John helped mix the cinnamon sugar in preparation for baking the next morning, and Karkat worked the dough for second rising. Dad hung back and watched the two work in a silent communication. An unseen link ran between them, and their small hums synchronized into a different melody.

Dad saw a spark that he hadn't seen in his life since John was a toddler. He was massive potential, and he knew that they didn't realize it.

"Karkat will you play violin for us when you're done?" Dad asked, the humming broke as did their sync.

"I'd be happy to, Dad." Karkat smiled, and they went back to work.

A while later Karkat stood by John at the piano, violin in the crook of his neck. Dad sat on the sofa, pipe protruding from his mouth. Karkat nodded at John and they began. Karkat pulled the bow across the strings in a sweeping motion, something different from what they'd always played toned out.

Dad's mouth fell open at them, pipe falling into his lap. This was something he'd never expected from his son. And before he knew it they were done.

"And we can sing it too." Karkat shrugged.

"I-I have to get ready for the party." Dad stuttered, awestruck as he went into his room to get ready for the Party at the Lalonde's.

His mind was still in the two when he started his car and drove off.

BR/N: Party at the Lalonde's is the name of the party. I have decided this just now.

A/N: I agree with this above statement. Also, Chapter 30 should hopefully be out by spring break! Shutocon in Lansing is coming up soon, and I'll be there with a bunch of friends! Please come up and find me, I'll be pretty recognizable as Fem!Equius, and Karkat!

Love, Katy.