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You are JOHN EGBERT, and you don't expect to live this time.
Being that you'd just gotten yourself into a war between your teen friends and a very beefy, very angry LORD ENGLISH, you can safely assume that this will be HEROIC.
You lived a good life. You can't be mad when you could've seen this coming. Death awaits everyone; this is just part of life. You've played the game, but there's no longer a 'thank you'. No wind chimes to greet you, no fresh air to guide you through your day, no friends to talk you through it. Just the suffocating vacuum of space as you glide on by in your dad's old car. You can't imagine a better way to waste away.
Though, lying on the car seat isn't too great. You can't die sitting around staring at the beige ceiling, can you?
> John: Go grab yourself a window seat to your demise.
Sure.
You sit up, not before grunting in pain due to the golden tooth lodged between your ribs. You lean back in your seat, the warm blood trickling down your penetrated ribcage. It seemed as if it didn't plan on stopping, and you were okay with that. You're getting tired of this.
> John: Look over there.
Okay.
You look over there, and your eyes widen as much as your eyelids will allow. It's your dad's PDA! You remember snagging this from him when you were thirteen... Oh, memories. You smile softly as you grab for it weakly, fumbling to do so with your shaky hands before successfully attaining the object. You open up PesterChum and see old chat windows from before your friends migrated to WhatsApp. You scroll through them for a bit, reminiscing affectionately.
> John: Say your goodbyes.
You assume it's time. Now that you're up, the blood is gushing now and you should be out any minute now. You can only hope it won't hurt; unlike the many other times you've died, which you regard fondly.
But who to tell first? Who should you give the honor of subtly letting them know they're the favorite, that they're the first on his mind?
You would've thought that if the answer weren't so obvious.
> John: Contact your dearest friend, TurnTechGodHead.
You'd always loved him. You've loved him love other people for the past seven years. You always wondered when it would be your turn, when you'd be the one, the guy to make him feel whole again; but now it'll never happen.
Is that really the thing you're crying over, John? Not the aching pain in your ribs, not the warm blood pouring down your legs, not the fact you're selfish for being content with this... You're sad because you can't have him, not even for a day?
> John: Grow the fuck up.
No.
You don't wipe the tears from your eyes. You fight to keep them open as you type your last messages to Dave.
EB: hey dave!
EB: i hope youre doing okay. i also hope you still have pesterchum installed, haha.
EB: no but seriously, this is important.
EB: im not sure if youve heard anything from rose. shes been pretty adamant about the "canon" stuff recently, and she told me i needed to go back in time and kill lord english.
EB: spoiler alert, i did it! with the help of davepeta. thank you, i guess?
There's a sudden sharp pain around where you're bleeding from. You let out a strangled noise of agony.
EB: okay i really dont have much time left im sorry to cut it short.
EB: im dying dave. im not going to live.
EB: i just wanted to say that i really love you, okay?
EB: and everyone else loves you a lot, too. you have a lot of love in your life, and i loved that i could be a part of that.
EB: maybe in another universe we could love each other properly.
EB: but im okay with how it is in this universe anyway. im okay! im okay because youre okay.
You're not okay.
EB: im sorry dave i shouldve told yousooner i shouldve done somethng
EB: i loveyou a lot dave and im so happy you love someon else
You hoped that was enough. You knew he'd understand. He will, anyway. One day.
Hours pass.
> John: Wake up.
You can't.
> John: Be the other guy.
You can't be the other guy. He's busy possibly getting the worst news of his life.
> John: Be the other girl?
You are TEREZI PYROPE, and you are convinced you'll die today.
Well, at least, you'll die as soon as you investigate whatever the hell that mechanism is doing in the middle of space. How'd it get here? What even is it?
You've got no time to lose.
> Terezi: Look through the window.
Jegus. You almost barfed in your mouth just then.
The bloody, maimed corpse of your old friend is laid down in the backseat of the mechanism. There's something big glimmering in between his ribs, stained by his candy-red blood. The wound below it is wider than the object; perhaps he had tried to get the object out before he died? Come on, John, you're smarter than that. There's some sort of device on the floor, the screen bright as you could vaguely smell something red on the screen paired with blue.
> Terezi: Get in.
You get in, your long hair brushing against John- or, what used to be John- as you wiggle your way in the space between the car seat John was laid in and the seat in front of him. You frown, pushing him to the side a little bit so you can sit down. You didn't care about the blood coating the seat.
You pick up what you now recognize to be a PDA. You sniff the screen.
EB: i loveyou a lot dave and im so happy you love someon else
TT: what the fuck
TT: john
TT: john what the fuck
TT: john please respond
TT: oh my god
TT: john what happened
TT: john i need you to be alive
TT: john i don't want this to happen to you
TT: john
TT: fuck
TT: im so sorry
TT: john
Your dance scrunches up in disgust and mild guilt. You shouldn't be tampering with this.
> Terezi: Tamper with it.
EB: D4V3.
TT: terezi what happened to john
TT: terezi please i need to know
TT: please tell me hes ok
EB: 50RRY T0 8R34K TH3 N3W5 T0 Y0U, 5TR1D3R.
EB: J0HN 15 D34D.
TT: oh my fucking god
TT: no
TT: why
TT: what happened
EB: H0LD 0N
TT: im sorry
You lick the protrusion in John's ribs. It's cold and wet.
EB: TH3R35 4 HUG3 T00TH 1N H15 R1B5
TT: what the fuck
TT: how does that even happen
TT: what the hell did rose make him do
You look around, sniffing the air. Your sense of smell is overwhelmed by salt. You think you might be crying. Not to mention the rancid smell of iron and decay wafting from John's newly rotting corpse.
EB: R0S3 15NT H3R3
EB: 1 TH1NK
TT: terezi
EB: WH4T
TT: can i say something really stupid
TT: dont tell anyone
TT: please
EB: F1N3
TT: really
EB: Y34H
EB: 1M DY1NG 500N T00
EB: D035NT 3V3N M4TT3R
TT: why
EB: N0 T3LL M3 A80UT Y0UR D34L F1R5T
TT: ok
TT: i love john too
TT: ive loved him since we were thirteen
TT: ive been loving him for as long as i can remember and i can't help but feel like i never even loved him at all
You're confused. Your hand searches for John's cold, clammy hand, before grabbing it as if that would provide comfort. It did not.
You're tired.
TT: what kind of person am i if i wait until theyre dead to finally say what ive been meaning to say for like forever
TT: do i even love him
TT: did i ever
You can feel yourself drifting off.
TT: i know youre reading these terezi its not that hard to respond to my woes
You don't really care anymore.
TT: wait
TT: oh god please dont die
You let your hand let go of your stomach. You lick it. There's a thick, teal substance coating it. Okay.
There's only one last thing to do.
> Terezi: Die.
TT: oh god oh god oh god
TT: no please
TT: terezi
TT: john
TT: i had a lot more to say john
TT: i wouldve loved to go out with you john
TT: john please stay
TT: john
> Dave: Give up.
You are DAVE. Your sunglasses are somewhere other than your face as you bury your aforementioned face inside a pillow. You are sobbing. The pillow is wet with tears.
You can't think much, but there is one thing you know for sure.
There is no LOVE out there for you. You will live the rest of your life at the mercy of the universe, waiting for your turn. You wonder if that's how John felt.
TT: john wake up
There is no HOPE, either. Despite the fact that it is everywhere you go, you can't seem to be everywhere, or even anywhere for that matter; can you? If you were, maybe you could have saved him.
TT: please
There is NOTHING out there for you.
TT: i dont want to lose you
Because, as it was meant to be from the start, as he intended it to be
John Egbert is DEAD.
TT: i love you so much john