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2011-12-13
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Should Have Been

Summary:

Sometimes 'what should have been' makes more of an impression than 'what will be'.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“It doesn’t make any sense. Why would Future Me even say something like that?” Karkat is staring at the screen of his husktop. You can’t really make out nuances of expression, especially at this distance, but you don’t need to. You can smell the aggravation and frustration coming off him in waves.

“I’m sure you had a good reason at the time. Or will have, rather,” you say nonchalantly. The whole issue doesn’t really bother you. Justice will be served, one way or another – your job is to make sure of that, both as the closest thing to a real Legislacerator left in the universe, and as the Seer of Mind.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Karkat snarls. “Future Me IS the biggest nookwhiffing fuck-up since Past Me. I’m not sure I’d put it past him to do something this retarded just to cause trouble for me.”

“Yes, I’m sure that full of the memory of the problems Future Him put himself through at the time when he was Past Him – i.e. you - he totally set out to deliberately cause those problems for himself.” You can’t help but snicker. The most amusing thing about Karkat is his insistence on treating the past and future versions of himself as if they are separate people unconnected to him. You realize it’s his coping method, his way of dealing with the guilt that would otherwise overwhelm him for mistakes made and prices paid, but that doesn’t make it any less funny.

He growls, not finding the situation nearly as amusing as you do, and you relent. “What’s he done now that’s got your horns in such a knot?”

“This fucking memo where he’s – I’m – telling Eridan off for god knows what,” he sighs. “I know Eridan, this is going to hit him really fucking hard and he’s going to take it personally. I’m already just about the only person actually talking to him. He’s a taintchaffing asswipe, but he’s not that bad, and this will only provoke him. I swear these fucking memos have accomplished not one single positive thing, but they’ve sure helped us fuck things over. I should just ban the fucking things entirely.”

This strikes you as fairly hilarious considering that almost every memo ever written on the board is originated by him. You make a valiant effort and bite your cheek hard enough to draw blood, and manage to stop yourself from laughing. It’s not pity, just self-preservation. He’s pissy enough that he might not be above taking a swipe at you to relieve the frustration, and sadly his skill with his sickles trumps your ability with your cane every time.

“Fuck it, I’m going to go see him, maybe I can head this off,” Karkat declares. “If I’m following the timelines right, it’s pretty much current him that’s responding to this memo. I promised him like a hundred hours ago that I’d come to his world, anyway.” He reaches for the lid of his husktop to close it. “Funny, though. Usually I’m cleaning up messes Past Me has left, not Future Me.”


The Land of Wrath and Angels was surprisingly… devastated. Karkat frowned as he picked his way through the debris. Then again, maybe it made sense, what with the ‘wrath’ part and all. In the distance angels flew in the sky, their singing faint but audible.

Of course, the difficulty would be finding Eridan in this mess. “Eridan!” he shouted, frown changing slightly from surprise to concern. “Ampora, where the fuck are you?” Never the most patient of trolls – which was saying a lot considering that patience was pretty much a racial failing – he kicked at a chunk of rock when there was no immediate answer. He followed that up by cursing under his breath and hopping on one foot, awkwardly rubbing the one he’d hurt with his hand.

A tiny shower of pebbles from above was the only warning that he wasn’t alone. “Giwe me one good fuckin reason why I shouldn’t just shoot you here and now, Kar,” Eridan snarled as he appeared on the second floor of a ruined building. Since the side wall was gone completely, there was nothing to block his shot, and Ahab’s Crosshairs was aimed squarely at Karkat’s chest. At that distance there was no way he could possibly miss.

Looking not in the least intimidated, Karkat crossed his arms and glared up at the other troll. “Well, isn’t that just the perfect topper to an already unbelievably shitty night. So ‘Please Kar, please come and save me from the fucking angels’ is actually sea dweller code for ‘I’m setting up a fucking ambush and using my pathetic, sniveling self as the bait’. I’m impressed by the subtly increasing desperation you put into your pleas. Did you make that up on the fly, or spend hours lovingly crafting each response to the memos?”

“At least I’m not the one turning on his fuckin allies,” Eridan spat. His hand was trembling on the gun’s stock, finger perilously close to the trigger. “At least I’m not the one makin promises I hawe no intention a fuckin keeping, an then fuckin tauntin an innocent so-called ‘friend’ with it. What, tormenting me through the fuckin memo wasn’t good enough for you? You just had to come and taunt me in fuckin person, make sure the message got through? Well it did, Kar. Loud and fuckin clear.”

Karkat took a deep breath, and as he let it out he visibly struggled for control of his temper. “That wasn’t me, fuckass, which you’d know if you’d paid attention to the simple concept of checking the timestamp on the entries. I mean, it was me, but it was Future Me. I’ve never tormented you.”

Yet, Kar.” Eridan’s hand firmed and his eyes narrowed, like he was sighting down the barrel to Karkat’s heart. “You forgot to add the ‘yet’. Future you is still you, an I trusted you. I really thought we had somethin. I… after the way you helped me all a those times… I thought you pitied me, just a little.”

“Oh, for the love of fuck,” Karkat swore, face screwing up in blatant exasperation. “You’re hitting on me now? How fucking desperate are you?”

“I ain’t fuckin hittin on you Kar, I’m statin an upright fuckin fact,” Eridan hissed. “I trusted you an you betrayed me. I spent all a this time killin angels on account a them always telling me that you lot are my enemies, that hope is a joke an I should just giwe it up. I killed them an killed them but they kept on sayin it, and fuck me, turns out they were fuckin right all along. So maybe it ain’t too late for me to start killin the right people.”

Looking up at him, Karkat turned a sickly dull shade of pale grey, all the colour of his blood drained from beneath the skin. It might have been fear at the threat, but from the resigned look in his eyes it was probably guilt. “You’re right… you’re right, I did betray you, will betray you, and I don’t even know why so it’s not like I can justify it. If such a thing could ever be justifiable.”

Obviously surprised, Eridan lowered the Crosshairs slightly. Karkat seemed to take that as a good sign, because he ploughed on. “That’s why I’m here, now. I don’t know what would make me say something like that in the future but I wanted to remind you that current me is not your fucking enemy. And I did promise to come see you here and I did let that slide because I had a hundred and one million fucking things that always seemed more urgent, but that doesn’t make it right. I fucked up, I failed you, and I’m here to say I’m sorry.”

“You say that now, but how do I know you mean it?” Eridan’s voice wavered, and he lowered the Crosshairs a little further. “How do I know you ain’t just sayin this now to try an protect yourself from my retribution later?”

“You don’t,” Karkat said steadily, not looking away from Eridan’s eyes. “Of course you don’t. There’s nothing I could say that would convince you, I’m not stupid enough to even try. Blowing hot air out my windhole isn’t going to accomplish anything but increasing global warming, and this world is fucking hot enough as it is. So you’ll just have to trust me one more time. And given the circumstances, what Future Me said to you… I wouldn’t blame you if you’re not willing to. But I had to try.”

The Crosshairs fell the rest of the way, dangling loosely from one hand to point at the ground. “There is one thing you could say,” Eridan said, softly enough that Karkat had to step closer to hear him. “Kar, do you pity me? At all, ewen just for a moment? All a those times you talked me through my issues with Fef, an when you helped me feel better after she dumped me… wasn’t that pity?”

Blowing out a hard breath, Karkat yanked at a handful of his own hair like that might jar a solution loose inside his think pan. “Don’t, Eridan. Don’t fucking do this. Not now, not like this. You don’t want me.” Eridan opened his mouth, probably to protest, but Karkat growled and cut him off. “You don’t want me, you just want someone. Anyone. For any quadrant. You’re alone and you’re hurting and you’re lonely and reaching out and I get that, I do. I know what it’s like to be alone even when someone is standing right next to you, and to know that you probably will always be alone no matter how hard you try. But I’m not interested in playing along and being your substitute so you can fulfill your fantasies. You’re in love with the idea of being in love. And I know because if I said I hated you instead, if I said I was willing to play Auspistice between you and Sollux, you’d take that just as happily.”

That seemed to shake Eridan. He opened his mouth a couple of times like he was trying to say something, but nothing came out. Finally, subdued, he captchalogged the Crosshairs and jumped down from the second floor, picking his way over towards Karkat.

“I can’t say you’re not right,” Eridan admitted softly. “If you were willin to Auspistize I’d jump on it, if only for the chance a getting Sol to actually hate me proper. And that’s stupid, you’d think I’d a learned my lesson about takin someone for one quadrant when I really want them in another. I fucked ower my moiraillegiance twice – once on account a trying to be one with Fef when I was so fuckin flushed for her I couldn’t see straight for it, and once on account a takin adwantage a you bein willin to play the part without actually getting the benefit a the role. Because you did, you were my moirail in ewerythin but name, and you didn’t get a fuckin thing out a it, not ewen a thank you an that was shitty of me, Kar, I know that.”

He paused, probably expecting some sort of answer out of Karkat. All he got was the same flat look and a long silence, Karkat standing there staring him down with his arms crossed over his chest and a carefully blank look on his face. When the silence had drawn out so long it had physical weight, Eridan gulped and continued. “I do pity you, Kar. For the shit I put you through if nothing else, but it ain’t just that. I know how hard it is to be a leader, I studied all the leaders a history. I know the hell you’re puttin yourself through and gettin not a fuckin ounce a respect for outta the rest of us. An what you said, about bein alone and worryin that you’ll always be alone, that ain’t the sort a fuckin thing you can say if you don’t feel it yourself. I don’t know why you’d think that, there’s gotta be half a the dozen trolls here what would jump at the chance for a quadrant with you, but if that’s how you feel then it is. An… an that makes me want to prowe you wrong, really bad.”

That made Karkat flinch, like the remarks had hit home, but he stood his ground. “And if I tell you that I’m not interested you’ll just go off and proposition the next troll that shows you an ounce of sympathy…”

“No I fuckin won’t!” Eridan snapped, gesturing wildly. “Kar, the one thing I ain’t newer asked anybody for was to be my moirail, nobody but Fef. An if she came up to me in the next ten minutes an said she wanted me back I’d say ‘no’. I did learn that lesson, and I do want her back but I want her back proper, no more a this wrong quadrant shit. Yeah, I’d take just about anybody for my other quadrants, you’re right. But not this one.”

Abruptly Karkat turned away from him, probably to hide the conflicting emotions that raced across his face. Hope, hurt, denial, need… he reached up and scrubbed at his face with his hands, as if he could erase the emotions as easily as the expressions if he just rubbed hard enough. “Don’t play me, Eridan. Do not fucking play me with this. If it turns out that this is what future me is so fucking pissed off at you for, if it’s because you’re just toying with me until something better comes along, I will cull you. Do you hear me? I will pin you down and pull your insides to your outside, and leave them there all still attached so that you’ll die slowly, squirming in agony. I will do it on your fucking quest bed just so that you’ll come back as god tier, so that I can do the whole thing all over again. I will…”

This time it was Eridan’s turn to cut him off, closing the last distance between them and embracing Karkat from behind. Only then did it become obvious how badly Karkat was trembling, his stocky frame shaking against Eridan’s slender one. “Hush, now,” Eridan said softly, reaching up and patting Karkat’s hair. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Kar, you know I wouldn’t. Didn’t you come all this way just for me, when you knew I’d be upright furious at you for what future you said? I wouldn’t repay that by turning on you. I wouldn’t do that to my moirail. Not my real moirail.”

Slowly Karkat turned in his arms to face him. There was a light of hope shining in his eyes, so fragile and uncertain that it was painful to see, even half-obscured by the watery red tears welling up. He didn’t appear to be aware of the latter until Eridan reached up and brushed them away with his thumb, leaving a faint but still bright red trail on his finger.

Hissing, Karkat jerked away, hope turning to panic all in an instant, but Eridan refused to let go. “Shoosh you, don’t be stupid. I just said I wasn’t gonna fuckin turn on you, didn’t I? Anyway, I kinda thought it might be somethin like this. Ain’t no other explanation for you typin in grey and wearin the symbol a the fuckin Sufferer. Yes, I know who he is,” he added in response to Karkat’s strangled yelp of shock. “Did you think I only studied the winnin leaders? You learn more from people’s mistakes than their successes. An I’m high enough rank to hawe access to the real records about him. It don’t hardly matter anymore anyway, does it? Our world is gone. There’s no drones to cull you, no Condescension to want you writhin on her cullin fork. I don’t care.”

“This from the troll who’s arguably more obsessed with the importance of blood-rank and the hemospectrum than Equius,” Karkat muttered, but the painfully fragile hope was back in his eyes. “I’m not only a land dweller, I’m a fucking blasphemous mutant. How can you…”

“On account a it’s you, Kar, and you’re the only damn troll what ewer gawe a single flyin’ fuck about me,” Eridan insisted, his voice a little choked. “Only giwes me all the more reason to pity you, don’t it?”

“You’re still a nooksniffing asshole,” Karkat informed him, voice somewhat muffled as he slid his arms around Eridan in turn and buried his face in the sea dweller’s shoulder. “And I still don’t know what Future Me is so angry at you for, but… we’ll work it out. Okay? I promise. Once I calm down from whatever the fuck that is, I probably go straight to you to apologize.”

“Well, then I suppose I can promise not to hold it against you for too long,” Eridan said in return, tightening his arms. “I’ll be the best moirail you can imagine, Kar. I learned my lesson. I’ll make it up to you.”

Lifting his head, Karkat gave him a tremulous smile. For once all the anger and guilt and self-hate was gone, nowhere to be seen. There was only a slowly growing incandescent joy like nothing that had probably ever crossed his face before. It should have looked out of place, but instead it made the anger look wrong in comparison. This was Karkat as he should have been, if life hadn’t fucked him over so badly.


And when the Bard did rampage through the Veil, none could be found who might soothe him or stop him. First to die was the Prince, and second his shining Knight, as the pain of loss met the Rage of the Bard, and did fall before him.

Thus was all Hope lost, for an end without the spilling of Blood.


The ‘snap’ of the husktop lid closing breaks the hold of your power, and brings you back to the present. “Don’t,” you say before you can stop yourself. “Don’t go. He’s just… give him some time to cool down, first.”

“We don’t have a lot of time left, Terezi,” he growls, impatient more with himself than with you. “We’re almost at the end of the game. I did promise him I’d go to him and I haven’t done that, and that’s pretty shitty of me. Plus now I need to do damage control.”

“Give him some time,” you repeat. Your voice is steady, almost bored. You’d be amazed at your own acting abilities except you’re too busy dying a little inside at what you have to do. “Trust me.”

“I have to…” he breaks off as you stand and plant yourself in his path, blocking the way to the gate that leads to the next world. He stands there for a long minute, probably studying you, and when he speaks again he sounds both bitter and subdued. “If I go I’m creating a doomed timeline, aren’t I?”

“It’s not the time for him to hear what you need to say,” you insist. “Not yet.” You know that Karkat will assume that you’ve seen that Eridan is too angry, that he might kill Karkat just for showing up. You let him think that. It will hurt him so much less than the truth, than knowing what he could have. For a little while, before he loses everything.

Karkat will suffer for your interference. Eridan will suffer more. In a way this means you have only yourself to blame for the deaths that will come because you tricked Karkat into leaving Eridan to rot.

Sometimes justice really, really sucks.

Not for the first time, you curse the fact that your powers let you truly see the doomed future, despite your burned out eyes. You know that the image of that hesitant smile on Karkat’s face is going to haunt you for a long, long time to come. As much as the image of his blood and Eridan’s mingling on the floor between their mangled bodies.

Maybe even more.

Notes:

Beautiful fanart by Crystal Dream of the last paragraph.