Chapter Text
“And what exactly is the explanation for this, kk? I mean seriously, HOW.” Sollux muttered, so tired his lisp was showing through, which oddly enough only mirrored the situation in an unfortunate, but adorable way. Which just made it that much more annoying, in Karkat’s opinion.
“As if I’d fucking know, chutedrip!” Karkat wailed, trying and failing to cover panic with anger. That’d been a useful tactic before the meteor and all the bullshit with SGRUB, but honestly, he’d outgrown it, and at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to have that veneer of ‘I fucking hate everything’ back. Because this, was beyond his comprehension, beyond his capability of can. He has lost the ability to can, and Karkat honestly wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover it.
Little hands clinging to his pants only made the situation more real, which was oddly unfair. At least Sollux’ little clonecestor was normal, loud and rancorous and obnoxious, like an over-hyper Gemini should be. But this, this was just WRONG. Kankri Vantas, the most talkative asshole in existence, hadn’t said a WORD.
The little Maryam, who used to be a hell of a lot bigger (and curvier too) was looking at him like he was something sad, while Kankri hid his face in Karkat’s sweatpants. Honestly, Karkat himself was kind of sad (not that he’d ever actually say that to anyone, ever.) that Kankri wasn’t speaking up either. Maybe the fucking SEER of BLOOD would be able to explain why the session shit everyone out, only to have the Beforan trolls and the Alpha kids as… well… KIDS. He just thanked whatever misshapen fuckheads decided to make them actual kids, instead of goddamn wrigglers, or worse, pupa.
“Y-Yeah, what are… what are we going to do with, uh, them?” Nitram mumbled, struggling with his own rambunctious bundle of misery, who happened to have goddamn wings of all things. Rufioh was clearly upset, wings flapping, ranting and raving, wanting to play or fly or whatever the fuck it is Beforan kids did back then.
“Well, we can’t just let them wander around. It’d be unconchionable!” Feferi bubbled, her own little band of trouble and mischief grinning viciously at Karkat in a way that oddly made him feel at ease. Jegus, Meenah was a cutie. Again, not that Karkat would EVER say that out loud.
“I all up an don’t really see a motherfucking choice, do you?” Gamzee rumbled from the corner, and it sent a shiver of pain and annoyance down the Cancer’s spine. “Little motherfuckers need some kinda lusus, what aint all dead and corpsified.”
“You definitely shouldn’t be talking about corpses, Gamzee.” Kanaya glared, standing tall, her hand resting gently on Porrim’s short curls. The clown gave a honk, which was echoed by a littler one. Kurloz was smiling, and Karkat was honestly astonished how much like Gamzee the little makara looked.
“I will paaaaaaaay anyone who will READ to her. Seriously. I am so sick of listening to her talk about these stupid books, anyway!” Vriska whined, Aranea pouting at her side. The book in her arms was as thick as Karkat’s arm and as big as Aranea’s entire torso. Too much book for one little troll, and honestly, Karkat wasn’t sure what to do with all of them. He looked down, and one single silver eye was peeking out, as if Kankri had finally gotten interested in the situation. Nope, there it went, back to hiding behind black curls and grey sweatpants.
“We know next to nothing about this society, or it’s ways.” Zahhak rumbled from the corner, his skin sheening with blue sweat. The blue scars around his throat were more than Karkat wanted to think about. “We cannot abandon those who are our blood.”
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not exactly experienced with wrigglers, okay?” Sollux growled, holding Mituna upside down and using his psionics to keep the little bastard from reaching his oddly-large-skateboard.
Looking to Terezi, one of the only sane ones, Karkat couldn’t help but smile. The blind girl was grinning, sitting against the wall, with little Latula in her lap. The two of them were giggling and making flapping motions with their hands. The fondness made Karkat a little nostalgic, and he had to look away before he did something stupid like sigh.
“Alright, fuckheads, listen up. We’re not abandoning the little pains in the necks. Vriska, get John on the phone, see how they’re handling their incestuous dancestors. Zahhak, you get started on locating housing for all of us, because fuck if I’m dealing with a wriggler on my own without any goddamn help. And Gamzee, for the love of fuck, put the fucking paint away.” The clown honked, and Karkat called it a victory, despite the hollowness.
Until a tiny, barely recognizable voice called from by his leg, that is. Until his bloodpusher shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
“Excuse me, sir. Am I being culled again? Where is HermitDad?” Kankri asked, and a hushed sort of silence fell over Karkat’s companions.
