HSO 2012 - Karkat♦Sollux

It’s like a constant throbbing pulse all through you, somehow sharper than the one on your stupid planet or from your bloodpusher sending disgusting red sludge through your veins, like it’s made of acid or something.  This pulse is not made of hemoglobin but rather of words, two (how bizarrely appropriate) specifically: fuck no fuck no fuck no

After all, no one ever said you weren’t predictable. It’s one of your many flaws (that you don’t have time to spend cataloguing right now because he’s coming he’s coming right now do you hear him)

You have to run. You have to find your way through this horrific dystopian maze of dull metal walls and depressingly bright graffiti, and you have to do it out of sight of the insane clown who along with his posse of gruesome corpses is certainly here, lurking somewhere around a corner in the dark, waiting for you. You don’t have time to think.

You certainly don’t have time to lean against a wall and hyperventilate and stare breathlessly into space (space space oh Kanaya you would know what to do right now, please tell me please help me). You could at least be monitoring Trollian, trying to leader it up with the pitiful tattered remnants of your friends, but unfortunately your hands are occupied. One is a fist pressed to the bonegrid in front of your airsponges, because if you don’t at least make a good faith attempt to control your breathing at some point you’ll pass out right here and die a slightly more pathetic death than otherwise. Your other hand is tangled in your companion’s T-shirt. You’ve been dragging him with you (probably to certain death) by his collar for what seems like forever, and no way will you be letting go any time in the next billion sweeps, if by some (don’t say miracle don’t say miracle) you live that long.

You are doing your best not to look at him because every time you catch sight of the mustardy splatters everywhere your paralysis and bone-deep terror get a little bit worse. You figure taking your eyes off Sollux for a few (precious, every second you wait he gets a little bit closer and soon he will find you) moments and regaining the ability to move is more valuable in the long run, you think, than staring at his bloodstains and replaying the moment in your head

(Kanaya, darling Kanaya, warm smile so rare that when you see it you know the universe is giving you a gift) (and Feferi, Feferi who wouldn’t hurt a buzz insect, who maybe even wouldn’t hurt you, even if she knew your secret, you’re pretty sure) (Sollux flying across the room, lifeless, and the fear, the uncertainty, almost worse than friends turned obviously and immediately into corpses) (and then he was gone, and then Eridan was gone, and where is he now, where could he be)

because you have other things to worry about right now, worse things, but fuck if that doesn’t feel a little bit like a betrayal.

Lots of things feel like betrayal right now.

HONK

honk

honk

^honk

HONK

honk

he

he’s here

that’s him he’s moving around

moving around in this hellish lab

this hellish lab he knows so much better than you he knows you he knows where you are

he’s coming

from where?

Your path splits. There are three different hallways leading away from where you are right now, each entrance betraying nothing of what haunts the brushed steel interior beyond. You hysterically recall a game show that for some reason you used to watch all the time when you were three and a half. Behind two doors are shrill barn beasts and behind one a shiny new psychopathic honking asshole murderclown.

Sollux had some kind of math program that cracked the show wide open. The enormous tool. Look at him all sprawled down there possibly choking on his own blood. Whose fist is that clenched around the collar of his T-shirt so hard that the nails are drawing horrific disgusting sludge blood even through the fabric? Not yours, to be sure.

Why can’t he be conscious right now, putting his numerous relevant skills to work in slightly increasing the miniscule chance you both survive?

What will you do?

What can you do?

You pick a direction. The honks echo. You still can’t tell which direction they’re coming from. But it doesn’t really matter, since your excruciating and slow death probably awaits you at the end of all this no matter what you do.

You grab Sollux. You run.

He’s coming.***

Too late you think of a smeary yellow trail betraying the two of you wherever you go. God damn it Sollux, your blood can never just stay in your fucking body.

That’s something the two of you will probably have in common by the end of all this. Two mutant freaks, too broken for anyone but each other, hiding from the end of the world in a giant metal trash can and stalked by the newly pupated indiscriminate killer the comic relief character of your lives has somehow become. It doesn’t even matter what kind of blood trail you leave. You are doomed anyway.

Blood. Doom. Is that irony? You’re pretty sure that’s irony.

And then: a real miracle.

“KK? Did y0u push me d0wn the stairs?”

He’s conscious.

"Fuck, why is my v0ice s0 weird? I can say stuff n0w. I can say 'stuff' n0w."

Conscious and missing a bunch of teeth.

"KK! Say s0mething! And get y0ur d0uchey claws 0ff my shirt!"

Yeah, no, you don't think that's happening.

"Where's Eridan? What happened? Why are y0u dragging me thr0ugh a rand0m hallway?"

Only there is the bloodthirsty troll stalking you that you have to (deal with) run from right now.

"KK WHAT. THE FUCK. IS G0ING 0N."

You collect yourself and decide on a plan of action. Chances are it won't work, but after all, the swollen hag known as Lady Destiny has gotten you this far.

“Get up, grubfucker, we’ve got a murderclown on our ass.”

Without waiting for a response you grab his hand and get moving. The two of you aren’t finished yet.