Work Text:
Karkat always loved the ocean. Whether the water remained as calm and complacent, or turned into a raging storm, he was fascinated by how deep and all consuming it was. There was no end in its distance, no end to its depth, with creatures so deep below that never have been seen by human eyes. Sure, some were scary and strange, alien to the place it called home, but that was the nature of the ocean. He always knew when he was an adult that he would one day be the one to uncover its true nature to the world.
(In a lot of ways, the Ghost Zone was like the ocean; deep, unnatural, and unknowable.)
When the air seemed stifling, filled with the smell of burnt ectoplasm and metal, he would visit his friends and talk about his dreams. The ones where he fell into deeper depths each time, discovering new creatures, or lost cities. He used to say them to whoever would listen, but as children turned older and crueler, his father more enthusiastic in his strange studies, he would turn quiet. Only two listen to him now and sometimes he wonders if they’ll leave him alone soon enough. Leave him so they can find something better and not a waste of their time.
(They follow anyway. Even if he turned into this, this thing, they stayed. He didn’t know why.)
He felt the earth below him shift as his dad, on a rare occasion, had gone outside to do something considered normal. He was a good father, who took him in when he needed it most, but sometimes he wished he wasn’t so weird. Hunting for sprits that wouldn’t, couldn’t exist despite his belief that it would. He didn’t bring it up though; it was supposed to be a nice picnic. He wanted to try out the pomegranates that Aradia suggested and Sollux had dared him to eat. Hopefully dad had bought them ripe.
(His dad wasn’t so silly now, was he? Look at him now; he’s fucking living proof.)
When Karkat would change from the person he once was, during his last two years in high school, he would realize that smoke often leads to fire. That the fire, if left unchecked, would grow if he didn’t take responsibility to stop it. To be something he wasn’t. While he loved the ocean, he would also learn to love fire, as he would one day wield it. Become it. Feel it deep within his bones. That it would protect him from the coldest temperatures, the hardest days when things looked hopeless, and when he needed something to fuel him. To protect himself.
(And by god, he would use that fire to protect them too.)