This was not at all what had happened when Karkat had finished his session.
Before Karkat was a giant white door; behind him, a mess of bodies. While it thankfully included Bec Noir, it also contained every other person he knew. The kids. The few trolls who had been left for the final fight. Gone in a sea of red and green blood.
The door itself puzzled hm. The kids had fucked up, unable to make their own universe, and now there was this giant white door in front of him. In the middle of the battlefield. Something weird was going on.
Karkat heard something behind him and a scowl crossed his face. It had taken that fucker long enough to revive.
The young troll turned. The blob of blue clothes that was John fucking Egbert was glowing, reviving, and making a gogdamn scene of it. Karkat knew what was going to come when the kid woke up, too. He'd be the one who had to deal with it.
Fuck, the door would have to wait. He made his way towards the boy, avoiding looking at the corpses he was stepping over. He wasn't going to cry.
Karkat stood by John as he sank back to the ground. Those idiotic blue eyes opened, blinked, and then smiled.
"Karkat!" he said cheerfully. He sat up, and his smile instantly changed into a face of horror. "I thought-"
"Everyone fucking died," Karkat snapped. "And you got sucker stabbed near the end. Again. Only a bulgelicking fucknut like you could avoid a heroic death in the fucking final fight of your game."
John looked shaken. "But...we were winning. I saved Rose! What happened? This..."
"Yeah, they're all fucking dead and Bec's dead and all we get is a fucking door."
A sob interrupted Karkat's rant, and he noticed John was crying. Fuck, this kid was hopelessly predictable. Probably thought it was his fault or something. That was just complete bullshit.
"You didn't fucking cause this Egbert."
"But I could have stopped it!"
The boy was on his feet, hands clenched into fists. Karkat knew how he felt, because it was the only way you ever felt when everyone you looked after died. Fucking useless. The worst possible leader that could ever exist.
"Did we at least win?"
John's voice was quiet, and instead of waiting for a reply, he knelt beside Jade. He began to shift her body, lying her out and folding her hands on her chest.
"Is this one of those funeral things?" Karkat muttered, but he began to help nonetheless. They moved their friends into a line, doing their best to keep them in a similar position. John placed Strider's broken shades over his eyes, and tried to make Rose's neck look normal. Karkat put Terezi's arms back with the rest of her, and removed the mail flag buried deep in Kanaya's chest.
He made John move Aradia's body into the line, unable to look at her. Of course she had gotten her fucking heroic death saving his life. Of course she had died looking after him again. He was such a fucking useless moron.
The blood was making him extremely uneasy, though he was aware his blood couldn't be seen compared to the kids'. He hadn't even noticed before that moment he was crying, and wiped at his face angrily. John walked over beside him, not looking much better.
"It's just us now."
It wasn't a question, but Karkat felt like it needed an answer.
"No fucking shit."
"This isn't like the end of your session, is it?"
"Not a gogdamn bit."
The smell of blood was thick, and Karkat shuffled on his feet. Everything was fucked up in this session, and it was probably all his fault. He had really hoped that maybe these kids would have been able to get through alright, that the people he'd made would be better than he had been. But despite all their work John was left alone with a pile of corpses. Not even a fucking universe.
John took a deep, shuddering breath. "We need to look at this door."
"I fucking know."
"Did you have one?"
They both took another long look at the bodies. John wiped red blood onto his pants.
"I fucked up," John muttered. "And now they're dead."
"Welcome to my life," Karkat spat, spinning back to face the door. He walked over to it, hating how eerily white it was against the Battlefield. The doorknob glistened. It pissed him off even more.
"Should we just leave them here?" John's voice came from beside the troll. "I feel maybe we should take them with us."
"We can't fucking take them all," Karkat replied heavily, rubbing his eyes. "Shit...just shit John. Stop looking at them."
It was hard dealing with John normally, but even worse when he was acting like this. It was better to leave the corpses. It made your failures less memorable. And obvious.
"Karkat, it wasn't your fault either," John said quietly, looking at the door. "This wasn't your fight. I'm sorry."
Karkat had a million, swear word laden arguments to that point, but John continued talking.
"I think we should get going. I guess we aren't done the game yet. I know we messed up and now you're stuck with it. Let's just say goodbye first, Karkat."
He didn't want to look at the corpses again, but he turned around. His eyes lingered on Terezi, her green blood and detached arms, and hated himself for fucking up so badly. The only thing he had done was not die. And right now seemed like the wrong thing to do.
That was all he could manage. Fuck, he was crying again. John patted his shoulder, tears falling freely from his own eyes. With a quick movement, the boy grabbed the doorknob, staining its clean slate with brownish red.
A second later he pushed the door forward, revealing a light that threatened to burn Karkat's vision away. Shit. The troll squeezed his eyes shut, wondering if maybe he had died after all.
John grabbed his wrist, tugging him forward. Karkat scowled. He was being looked after by a kid who had just lost his closest friends because he was too fucking useless to walk by himself.
Following behind John as he walked forward, Karkat entered the brightness he could still feel behind his eyelids. It gradually darkened, and when John released his wrist he felt safe enough to open them.
What he saw made him hate himself even more. Or rather, what he didn't see.
There was no exit.