watch it fall

Your name is John Egbert. You are a hardened veteran of the game SBURB. You have since found yourself waking up anew on your thirteenth birthday and, through pesterchum, have stood by your friends as you all built your lives back up. No one else has any recollection of the Game. You like to pretend it was just a dream, that it didn't affect you. That it wasn't real.

But you know it's a lie. You know it's all a lie and nothing drives it home harder than the night you hear the tapping at your window.

At first you passed it off -oh, you thought, it's just the breeze blowing the tree branches.- but as it went on you began to grow uneasy. You still had a sense of sorts; you knew when the wind was blowing and this wasn't it. You hesitantly rolled over and your eyes grew wide at what you saw.

Falling over yourself, your blanket and your messy bedroom floor, you throw the window open. There he is, there is the boy that had enraptured you so before all of this. He is perched precariously at the end of a long branch and, had you any mind about you, you would have realized it was too far out, too thin a branch. It didn't bow beneath him.

"Karkat," you breathe, a name you have treated with fear and sadness since your awakening, but he shakes his head as you reach out to him.

"John, don't."

You choke and he motions for you to step back. You do so and he lightly climbs over your windowsill and stands before you. There is a pause before he finally looks up, eyes meeting yours. They were milky white and pupiless.

"Karkat-"

"John. Don't." His voice is less stern this time, softer, weaker. You throw yourself forward, crying out when you hit the ground instead of embracing your dearest. He lets out a breath and stumbles, though his feet make no sound. You shudder.

"I-I just..."

"I'm sorry," he blurts. You realize how strange his voice sounds. "John, I'm so fucking sorry, I shouldn't have come here, I shouldn't have fucking come here, my thinkpan must be- I- I'm sorry.."

"Stop saying that," you whisper as you push yourself to your feet. You reach out more reserved this time, watching as your fingers disappear through him. He closes his eyes. You whimper. "What happened?" You inquire breathily.

"I don't know," was his simple response.

You give a disdainful little breath. You want to touch him, to hold him and love him and tell him all of the things you hadn't been able to tell him in the Game. You want to lay down and sleep with him, to know he's okay and you're okay and no, neither of you are. He's dead and you might as well be.

Your head jerks up when you hear him. He lets out his first sob and you can feel the tears burning at your eyes. You're helpless to offer anything as he falls to his knees, hiding his face in his hands as his shoulders shake. He's apologizing over and over and over. He can hardly get any air into himself he's sobbing so hard and all you can do is crumple to you knees in front of him and beg for him to stop.

It's not your fault, none of this is your fault, you're a good person, please don't say these things Karkat, you plead through your own tears, reaching forward again and again as if at any moment he might suddenly become tangible. You hear the words -the words that make your heart sick and your stomach churn- falling from his lips and your entire world stops.

Everything halts. Nothing moves, nothing breathes, not a second passes and it's as if everything is building up to the moment you finally give in. The moment you sink under and let the weight of the world crush you. Destroy you. Absolutely obliterate you.

The moment you feel your body hit the ground with one loud wail that leaves you nigh able to breathe.

Four little words that bring all of the walls you have worked so hard building up against everything crumbling down on top of you.

The last thing he hears as he dissipates before your very eyes.

I love you, too.