well jesus christ i'm not scared of dying

[crab]

WHO: dumb (dragony) and dumber (crab)
WHERE: their assigned place of residence.
WHEN: late evening january 15th, after all the new arrival shenanigans.
WHAT: karkat died, their universe died, and rua didn't make the universe cross. it's been a rough week.
WARNINGS: heavy profanity, probable discussion of death.

[ After everything he's gone through over the past few days, from his perspective, the only word to describe Karkat's sentiments when he's dropped off at his new place is exhaustion. By the time he pushes his way through the front door and steps over the threshold of the unfamiliar hive, he's pretty sure that he is capable of sleeping for at least a week, daymares be fucked.

He's so tired that any emotional feedback from someone who might have been dropped off before him is nothing more than indistinct background noise, for the moment. The door slams behind him, the sound offensively sharp. ]

Comments

[crab]

[ He wants to tell her that she's not the one who has to be strong enough. Wants to shoulder the responsibility of keeping that cacophony contained himself. The impulse is an ache, an emotional contusion. He wants to be the one to keep her safe. She looks so tired, and all he wants is to take the weight of her burdens from her. ]

Yeah, I-- I get it. [ But there's no way she'd let him, no way she'd understand or comprehend the implications. And what would it be like, if she turned out right, and he vanished before she did? What position would he be leaving her in, if he took that responsibility, only to abandon her?

He fidgets, uncomfortable, hands fussing over one another, the hem of his sweater, to keep them from doing anything he doesn't permit them to. ] You could at least admit that that's how you would feel, though, if you weren't suppressing it.

[dragony]

What's the point of woulds?

[ There's nothing sour about the way she says it, but the words are not harmless, either. Her shoulders rise, fall, and she looks soon to lie down. ]

It doesn't really matter, does it? How I feel won't change what happened, or what will.

[crab]

I care about how you feel. [ There's an edge of petulance to the way he says it, the emphasis he places on I. ]

[dragony]

[ In doubt, she wonders if that's only the case because he can feel her heart as easy as if it were housed in his chest—that caring is a result of chaining...

But like a flickering candle in the fog, that feeling is snuffed out. No, says calm certainty, he cares because he's her friend, and he loves her.

Certainty keeps venom from rising in her throat. ]

... I know.

But it's hard for me to.

[crab]

It matters. [ He insists, a little more defensive, for the doubt he'd felt from her. ] It's important. You're important.

[dragony]

[ Her lips pull back in a smile, staggered and uneven—to one cheek, to the other, but neither holding steady enough for the expression to stick.

It's kind that he thinks so, but it's not true. ]

I think... [ Quiet, soft words, slow like a stream in gentle rain. ] ... I'm too tired for it, right now.

[crab]

[ Something in Karkat's posture slumps -- a loosening of tension he hadn't known he was carrying, expelled through a deep sigh. His head bobs, once, for a nod, both agreement and acknowledgement. ]

I hear you. [ Not only does Karkat feel her exhaustion, his own compounds with it. Everything about him feels heavy and sluggish. Their universe, the City, Lachesis, Rua gone, dying and being resurrected, the flood of new input... With all of that, he feels about two minutes away from pitching forward and passing out, himself. ] It's been a long week.

[dragony]

I don't know if it will get any easier. I mean... it's all gone.

[ Her head shakes, her body slumping a little more forward for the weight of gravity on her shoulders. ]

This might not be long-term, either...

[crab]

As far as I understand it, Lachesis is dead. [ The words are foreign on his tongue, something he never expected to say. Never really wanted to, when it came down to it-- she might have taken many things from him, but the opportunities she'd given weren't something he could ignore, either. ] Even if this isn't long term, it won't be the City we go back to. I don't think even she can resurrect herself and an entire universe.

[dragony]

... I don't think can believe something like that. About her.

[ She could bring everyone else back, after all. Besides... if she didn't exist, wouldn't the force holding them separate from their originating universe be destroyed?

Wouldn't those strings of fate be cut?

She shakes her head. ] I know it won't be the same place. That world is gone.

[crab]

You didn't think you could believe in the apocalypse, either. [ The words aren't said unkindly, but there's still a bit of bite to them. ]

[dragony]

And it wasn't the end of everything for us, was it?

[crab]

The natives weren't so lucky. [ And that has more than a hint of bitterness to it.

He had friends, who were natives. ] It's all gone, Ruka. I'm not saying we won't go somewhere else, but Lachesis, the City, we're never going to see any of it again.

[dragony]

[ The tone gets her looking at him more closely, but the bitterness of it feels like an attack on her, rather than sympathy for the dead. Sympathy would be in sadness, in longing and mourning; she knows when a poison is meant for her. The way he goes on—if he disagrees with her about one thing, why is he acting like that means she's wrong about everything, even where they share the same point?

She can't even tell if he's trying to pick a fight, or if this is their normal, friendly abrasion—her heart's so battered, even this much feels to draw blood. He's biting at her, and she wants to snap back, to throw poison in his face, see how he likes it, but... maybe, maybe he just wants to rile her up so her barriers break down and she does something stupid like cry.

With her eye clenched shut, it takes everything left in her to swallow that poison down. ]

Please. Just... stop. Okay?

[crab]

[ There was never any aggression, never any fight to the bitterness in his voice. Merely sadness and grief, with a flimsy coat of paint. So, when she says for him to stop... ]

Sorry. [ This time, he doesn't try to disguise the sadness, or exhaustion, bowing his head for submission. ] Sorry, I wasn't trying to... I'll stop. It's okay.

[dragony]

[ It's not okay, and they both know it. It never is okay, is it? It seems that way, sometimes, though the circumstances here are worse than their usual. Ruka focuses on the air leaving her mouth, the cold inhale as it swells in her chest, and out once more.

Rua's gone. Karkat climbed out of a grave to be here. Eridan survived and made it to this world, too. It is not as much as she wants, but it is more than she expected, and better than she deserves. So does it matter if Karkat keeps misunderstanding her, if they keep fighting? He still exists, and remembers her, and cares about her. That's what she needs to focus on.

(In the end, everyone will abandon her.)

When she exhales, it feels like smoke—like a shroud to hide away her heart, lest his sight of it do more harm. ]

Okay.

[crab]

[ Karkat knows the standard condolences, for when someone he cares about departs. Has heard them from Ruka herself, even -- they might come back, don't give up -- but for him, those words are far from comfort. While not as jaded as her, he carries his own brand of cynicism, for these things. So, instead, after an uncomfortable period of silence he spends intently studying a patch of carpet by his feet, he lifts his head to say-- ]

It was still worth it. [ Thoughtful, half to himself. ] Saving him. Even though he left. [ Even though Karkat failed, even though he didn't deserve the title of hero in any conceivable universe he's inhabited, even though it was ultimately pointless, it was worth it to buy him those extra days.

The same principle applies to knowing him at all. ]

[dragony]

Yeah. [ That much, at least, she can agree to. It isn't that she values Rua's life more than Karkat's, or her own life more than his; he knows, better than anyone, how much value she places in it when weighed against another's heart.

It is exactly because of that, that she can understand his reasons. ]

... I'm glad, that you don't regret it.

[crab]

[ There is more he could say, more he wants to say, and explain, but with the tension of a fight no longer buzzing in the space between them, the full scope of his exhaustion is beginning to claim him. It's like every thought has to be dredged up from the depths of a thick sea of molasses. Better to keep it simple: ]

M'sorry. For picking a fight, after all this bullshit. [ There is a faint slur creeping into his voice. ] If you want to... if there's anything you want to talk about, I won't. Do it again.

[dragony]

[ Her head shakes, a movement so slight that her loose hair barely seems to move. ] It's fine. I never make it easy for you.

[crab]

Doesn't excuse being a raging doucherocket when a friend could really use you cutting them some slack. For once. [ But he doesn't contradict her. He can count the amount of friendships he can call simple or easy on one hand. ] I just want you to be more honest with me.

[dragony]

[ For once.

Tired, so tired of fighting, of talking, of everything... they sound like baiting words, but she doesn't have the energy to bite. She leans back instead, palms against her eye-and-eye-patch, as if forced pressure on the sockets would push her heart into some darkness he could not see through.

Exhale. ]

You get so worked up over things that don't matter, sometimes.

[crab]

S'a matter of perspective. [ If he weren't so tired, a phrase like that would be enough to catapult him all the way back into righteous fury. As things are, he doesn't even have the energy to articulate the sentence properly. ] They obviously matter to me.

[dragony]

I know.

[ Leaning back turns into lying back, far enough to land on the mattress, and with her hands still against her eyes, at least the light doesn't have opportunity to blind her. With her focus on her breathing, on the pressure against her eye, the fight and the sadness recede, smothered in static. ]

But it might be easier for you, if you didn't.

[ Care so much about me, she leaves unsaid. ]

[crab]

Moron. [ Comes as an exasperated sigh, and at some stage, his eyelids have drifted closed, and he can't be bothered to lift them. ] I never make shit easy for myself.

[ I'm not giving up on you, is his own unspoken reply. ]