thecapitol | [closed] it's a circle, friend

Who| Karkat and Phil, Alain, Roland and Signless
What| How to deal with the fact that you just murdered your ancestor's boyfriend and his friend/comrade, and that other murder earlier, and the person you couldn't save, and...
Where| Karkat's room.
When| The week between the end of the arena and Crowning.
Warnings/Notes| Description of gore and killing, allusion to or discussion of suicidal ideation.

Return from the arena sees a whole lot of shit to deal with. Roland and Alain each died because of him, and even if Alain killed him, too, it does a whole lot of nothing to make the burden easier. It was stupid and desperate and violent, one after the other, and Roland wouldn't let him do anything else.

(He thinks about it anyway, what if he'd done something different, what if he'd gotten the chair, what if he'd knocked him unconscious.)

Maglev and Sheen still haunt his memory in thoughts of what can't be undone and responsibilities failed. Sheen wasn't the first time he ever wanted to kill someone, and wasn't even the first he did it to. Gamzee and Eridan went murderous on the meteor, and Gamzee went worse over after the trip to the new session was done. He tries, then, and got killed for his trouble. And there was Nill in the space arena, a slow death looming over her if not for mercy. Even then, he had to use his teeth.

Now Nill is gone, too. If she were still here loops in his head, but he can't make her come back, and would feel too guilty to ask comfort if she did.

Then there were his rewards from the youth program.

He went to his room directly once he got back to the tower, ignoring reporters and media and fans, anyone in the halls to get there. They sat neatly laid out on his desk, merit badges and papers about his appointment to Jr Peacekeeper and graduation from the youth program, and some letter back from Drusus he couldn't bother to read more than a few words of. There were gifts: some kind of wind chime with little charms of his sickles and sign and lusus, and a model of the red, claw-like one he used in the last arena, contained within a glass case. Worst, though, were the replica hare's foot - Jackie's, that is, Maglev's token - and the video from Cable.

By the end he's shaking, breathing left an afterthought. It takes all his willpower not to destroy the things he's been given, and it's as if the effort exhausts him, for he collapses into his bed.

In this way he spends his free time over the next days. He leaves when he has to; there's no backing out of Peacekeeper training and duties. But he hides from his districtmates, hides from the media, and emerges only briefly for necessities.

The few times he's seen, he looks haunted.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"What I wanted-" Roland settles down from his hunker, crossing his legs on the floor. This conversation is going to take some time. "Signless speaks true. None of it should have happened that way. It wouldn't have, if I'd been thinking clearly. I'm going to tell you what I was trying to do, but while I do I want you to remember that."

Roland runs a hand over his face. What to tell of this? Karkat would likely insist that he is no longer a child, and indeed few children have had to do what this boy has done. But he is still a boy. How to even begin?

Before he does, he reaches up for Signless' hand and tugs at it. If Karkat doesn't need Signless to go comfort him just yet then Signless ought not stand there on his own as if he's getting ready to leave at any moment. All that time he's spending doing that he could be sitting here next to Roland and holding his hand, and Roland's chiding expression and raised eyebrows are meant to tell him as much. Roland will take the comfort, at least until Karkat decides he's ready for it instead.

And now, to start. Roland frowns at the ground, thinking, and pushes himself to look up at Karkat's face once he begins to speak. The boy deserves that Roland should look him in the eyes. "This place takes things from you. It takes people. Every man tends to handle that differently, and I- I wanted you to become vicious and hard. I wanted you not to love killing but to embrace it in the same way my mates and I were taught to in my boyhood. I wanted you to kill so that when you did, the people of Panem would call you back to this arena, and the next, and the next. I wanted to see you kill, so I wouldn't ever have to see you leave me."

He watches Karkat's face a moment more, then loosens his hold on himself and feels his head bow, and watches the floor. "But Cort would never have taught any of us in such a way. Not ever. And you- Killing's not your path. You'd know by now if it were. I think you take after your ancestor in that. It was selfish of me to try and force you onto it, and unspeakably cruel of me try it in the way that I did. Cort would call for my guns, if he knew."

Karkat wouldn't know who Cort is, but it's not important next to the rest. If they've both sat on the floor, he's comforted; even Roland alone like that is better than the man being on his feet. But it's the words themselves that have finally set him into real thought. He's not calm, but the quick, fluttery pulse of nerves has settled to one place, resting for this moment.

"You said... you weren't thinking clearly. How do you mean that?" he asks, and his voice is even. It's not the only thought on his mind, but it stands out the most after his talk with Alain. The rest he can address after.

He reaches for his ancestor then. He can't take his hand directly while he's still on the bed, but if Signless will follow the gesture and offer it up, he'll take solid hold.

Well. What can Signless do but take that hand and squeeze? Now both his hands are occupied. He sits in a comfortable spot between the bed and where Roland has settled, the prime position to hold onto both of them. He's glad now more than ever that he suggested he be here for this.

For now he's content to sit back and watch them as they work this out; there's not much he can contribute beyond a steadying presence.

"I mean it makes no sense for me to be thinking the way I was. Do you think I would always have gotten so angry at you for that? If I had a problem with the way you handle arenas I would have spoken up earlier. Do you think I'd've reacted in such a way on my own, making you do that? You may trust me no longer, but you can trust that I wouldn't have lasted nearly so long as I have if I were so quick to- to do away with myself for so little reason."

It's not that Roland doesn't realize Karkat is a frightened boy, he is well aware of that. But all the same, the question is almost a frustrating one.

Edited 2015-12-27 14:17 (UTC)

It's the way he answers, like it's so easy and self-evident, that strikes Karkat so soundly. His eyes go wide, and barely a moment later he's off the bed, ancestor's hand still in his grasp even as his other reaches for Roland's.

"Oh my sweet fuck, this is what I wanted. Alain told me--not the same thing, but--he said it wasn't normal for him either. That the anger wasn't 'his'." He'd also told Karkat that he couldn't say for certain whether this sounded like Roland or not, and the effect of not knowing has already made itself evident. "God, I didn't want to think you would do that on your own, but I couldn't think straight when it was happening and then I had two murdered friends and everything else to weigh down on me. You're certain, Roland? Completely certain?"

Roland takes Karkat's hand tightly, any hint of frustration gone as he listens. "I'm certain. I wouldn't have said it if I weren't. Those two friends - do you mean at the end, in the bunker? You ought not count me in that, if that's what you're doing. What happened to me was hardly murder."

Something flops over in his chest: relief, surprise, fear that he might wake up and find that none of it happened.

"I'll count it how I want," he argues, but it's distracted. Then, "Fuck, come here." He tugs Roland - "You too," - and Signless, pulling them in toward him, or leaning into them, or maybe both. He leaves their hands to put his arms around them instead, holding tight. He might be tearing up into someone's shoulder.

"It wasn't you--It wasn't either of you. The Capitol must, it must have..."

His words trail off. He's shaking now, relief won out, and it's too much to verbalize just yet.

Following Karkat's example, Signless lets go of the hands he's holding to wrap his arms around both of their shoulders. It's his that Karkat is tearing up against and he doesn't mind at all, he just presses his cheek against Karkat's hair and lets a comforting trill bubble up in his throat. It's one of those singularly-alien noises that isn't a word and so manages to slip past the translator chip.

"I wouldn't be surprised at all. That isn't a new trick for them, manipulating the way you feel and think to make you do things you never would otherwise."

Their moving pulls Roland in toward them and he lets it, feeling his head come to rest against both of theirs. The warm voices and breath and arms and bodies of those Roland loves are in front and behind and all around him, and he hardly realizes how widely he is smiling. The boy is shaking and Signless is making that odd, familiar noise of comfort, and Roland is a little surprised, somewhere in the fainter parts of his mind which are not taken up with this, to realize that in this moment all is well in his world.

"You'll be alright, Karkat. We're going to be alright." Roland wraps his arms around the two of them and pulls them closer and, in this moment, he holds on tight. He holds on for as long as he can.

Edited 2015-12-31 01:03 (UTC)

[closed] it's a circle, friend

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GROUP HUG

IM SO HAPPY

shall we end on grouphug happytimes?