Chapter Text
No one would shut up about it, so you, Karkat Vantas, are getting a pet.
You don’t really see the point in having one, anyway. Dogs require constant care; cats completely ignore you most of the time and act like they own the place. Birds are loud, and reptiles…you suppress a shudder as you remember the disgusting insects–live!–that you had to feed a pal’s bearded dragon or something a while back. No, animals in general are not really your forte.
But, your older brother Kankri had argued, that’s why you should get one. You, of all people, would understand empathy and loneliness, considering you’ve lived the past few years almost completely in cavelike solitude. And it was better to forget the past and move on.
It had been one massive clusterfuck of a guilt trip--so that’s why you’re riding in your friend’s beat-up pickup truck of questionable age and capability.
Sollux turns around from the driver’s seat, his psychedelic glasses glinting in the review mirror. He’s a month older and a foot taller than you, and he’ll never let you forget that you still haven’t gotten a license, even though you’re a few years past the required age. But even if you had a car/license, you’d prefer sitting in the filthy front seat graffitied with Sharpied obscenities and tiny rips, the broken seat belt barely covering you, listening to shitty K-pop and grunge blaring out of the sticky windows, to one of your own belonging. Quite honestly, your parents would fall over their feet to get you the most expensive car they can find, and you can’t let that happen.
“So, the Vantas has fallen,” Sollux says smugly, grinning insultingly at you with his yellowed, slightly pointed teeth. You’ve always wondered if they’re the cause of his weird lisp, or if it was just his messed-up Asian family’s ancestry. Either way, you two like to laugh about the “evil in his ancestors” that caused the strange dental abnormality. His giant family is as laughable and as stereotypical as it gets.
You snort. “Shut up. It’s not like I’m becoming the savior of the animal kingdom or anything.”
Sollux shrugs, the black hair slipping over his eyes. “I dunno, man. It’s not like I have to drive you.” His pallid hand reaches up to swipe it away. “I’d say we have a regular Lion King here! Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh-tekembaaaaaaaa—“ His singing voice is whiny and incredibly irritating, made dumber by his mockery of the African song.
Growling, you flip him off. “Dipshit.” He flips you the finger in return, and you share a grin.
Soon, you’re at the adoption center. Sollux parks the behemoth and says “I’ll wait here while you pick out the thing n’shit. Don’t take all day, I got games to play.” He pulls out a PSP and idly presses a few buttons as you step out of the car.
You nod and look up at the building. It’s a generic pet store, Harley’s Emporium, a neon sign tells you, that looks spacious enough. You reach over to open the door and almost fall inside as the door is pulled open energetically to greet you by a perky girl.
“Hey there! Watch your step!” she says, giggling. Her skin is cocoa brown and perfectly round spectacles perch on her nose. Her head is surrounded by cascades of lustrous black hair down to her back. She’s quite pretty, and you feel a self-conscious blush spread to your cheeks as you run a hand through your messy ginger hair. How long has it been since you last brushed it?
“Uh, hi,” you stammer. “I’m looking for a–”
“No worries! We have every pet under the sun!” the girl interrupts cheerily. “If you’re not sure, I’d recommend a dog. Say hello to Bequerel!”
At her words, a massive white dog with thick, fluffy white hair covering his eyes emerges from under the table. You tentatively pat his head, but his slight growling does nothing to make you feel any better.
“Umm…where are the cats?”
*****
A few minutes later, you’ve decided on a cat. You picked the first one you saw, a fat white Persian with seemingly double chins, and you’ve been directed to everything you need to take care of it. You’re about ready to check out when you hear a strange, unfamiliar squeak.
Jade, the girl at the door (you were staring at her name tag) whips her head around. “Oh! Honey, what are you doing out?”
You turn around as well, but you’re a little shocked at what you see. A small, gray, vaguely humanoid thing is peeking its head around from behind the door. Standing on two legs, it has short black hair and is wearing a tiny shirt that hangs from its body limply, but the human resemblance stops at its silvery gray skin and strange orange horns that poke out from its skull. It retracts its little clawed hands from the doorframe and shrinks back when it sees you staring.
You recognize it instantly. Of course–how could you not? It’s a troll, a few years old pet sensation that have recently become extremely popular among the rich and famous. They act like humans, eating their food and even talking. They’re fairly rare, though, and an undetermined amount have been released for general consumption. You mean sale.
Jade coos as the troll recoils back from your stupefied stare. “Nepeta, sweetie, it’s okay. This is a friend!” She goes over to the tiny troll and lifts it up, its stubby legs dangling. From the looks of the long eyelashes and slender frame, it’s a female.
“What’s your name?” she asks you in a slight undertone as she snuggles the troll, Nepeta or whatever her name was, into her arms. The creature still stares at you from her grasp.
“Vantas. Karkat Vantas,” you blurt, a little flustered by Nepeta’s unwavering gaze.
Jade smiles sweetly. “Nepeta, meet Mr. Karkat!” She emphasizes the unfortunate ending of your dumb name like everyone does, presumably to make the little troll smile. “Isn’t that a fun name?”
Before you can react, she’s gently but firmly pulled open your arms and deposited the petite troll into your grasp. You buckle a bit at the sudden minute weight.
She’s warm. The creature snuggles comfortably into your grasp and stares at you. Her eyes are huge, green with slitted black pupils, with yellow where there’s normally white on a human. They’re familiar. Too familiar.
Oh god.
You feel a sudden weight drop into your stomach. No. You cannot buy a troll. Absolutely not. On the list of things you promised yourself you’d never do, this was at the very top.
Nepeta seems to sense your discomfort. Her hands are clawed with little yellow nails, and she reaches up to your face and bats your cheek gently.
“Cat?”
A small, nasal voice bites the air of the quiet store. Jade’s hands flit up to clasp her cheeks, her mouth frozen in a silent squeal.
You bite your cheek painfully, doing your best to resist the troll’s ridiculous cuteness, not meeting her eyes. “Sorry, but I can’t…buy her…” you mutter, trying to shove her–it–back into Jade’s hands, onto the table, anywhere but your arms, because the warmth is triggering memories that you’d rather keep down…
Jade frowns. “B-but,” she says, “Nep’s been in here for ages and–”
You cut her off, not willing to hear what is probably a perfectly valid argument that would more than likely convince you. “I…can’t afford it,” you say desperately, although this is a blatant lie, and you have a feeling that Jade’s darting eyes spot the designer tag on your oversized black sweater.
The girl’s mouth puckers. “If money is really a problem, I can give her to you for less. Honestly!” She moves closer to you, and in an undertone, she hisses, “She’s slated for culling in just a few days. Nobody wants her, on account of her being just a greenblood. She’s our last one.”
Your stomach drops even deeper. Trolls’ worth is measured by their blood, something called the hemospectrum you think, and the higher their blood is on that scale, the more they’ll sell for. The lower trolls tend to be more animal-like and less domesticated, and for that reason less popular. A greenblood like Nepeta wouldn’t have been very likely to sell. You wonder how many of her kind this young one has seen bought by various people, carried away to either their fortune or doom…
Fuck.
“How much?” you relent weakly.
Jade, looking very relieved, states a price that is high, too high, but you accept it anyway. You also fork over a bit more for a cat bed and some food manufactured by the omnipresent Betty Crocker company. However, you have trouble carrying the supplies as Nepeta is still curled in your arms and refuses to move. Jade, with a really adorable smile, hands you a box, which you put the now sleeping troll in as gently as possible.
“Thanks for all your help–” you start to tell her, but she just puts a finger to her lips and waves.
You awkwardly shoulder the cat bed, balancing the food under your other arm, and hold out the box in front of you. You’re trying your hardest not to jostle it, but Nepeta wakes up anyway and whimpers. You do your best to ignore it, but by the time you’ve trudged over to Sollux’s car, she’s full-out crying, a pathetic wailing similar to a cat mewling. Glossy greenish tears track down her cheeks.
Sollux sticks his head out the window irritably. “Goddammit, KK, what the hell did you buy?” His words fill you with more guilt than perhaps should be merited from the situation.
“A…a troll,” you say hesitantly, defensively. You seat yourself in the front and carefully pick up the bawling Nepeta. You stroke her hair and horns softly, murmuring. “Shoosh, it’s ok.” You vaguely remember your mother doing the same thing to you—whispering soothing words, “shooshing” you with short, gentle pats, when you were a toddler. Taking care of kids, no matter the species, is universal, apparently.
Almost immediately, she stops crying and shivers as you gently pat her. Maybe the horns are sensitive. You hope it’s nothing insidious, and that it’s simply akin to something like tickling.
Sollux snickers, but it’s not mean so much as in disbelief. “I can’t believe you. Karkat Vantas, mother of one.”
You ignore him and continue petting Nepeta, who’s now purring like a motorboat. She’s only a foot or two tall, the right size to sit on your knee. She looks about the equivalent of, say, two or three years old, and you wonder, probably not for the last time, how on earth you got coerced into adopting a toddler, essentially.
Sollux hesitantly reaches out his hand and runs his fingers through Nepeta’s hair. She doesn’t seem to have a problem with it, purring just the same. You let out a soft sigh of relief. The last thing you need is for this seemingly adorable troll to hate everyone it meets.
Sollux reaches up to slap you jovially on the shoulder, probably with some ridiculous remark. But unexpectedly, the troll bolts upright and sinks her tiny little fangs into his finger. You remember, too late, that certain species of trolls carry venom in their fangs. All you can do is hope that Nepeta isn’t one of them–and suppress a laugh, because Sollux’s dumbfounded expression is priceless.
Sollux yelps and jumps back, making the car rattle. You think you hear something crack. Hopefully it’s not vital.
“Jesus Christ!” he swears. “Little beast!” He glares at Nepeta, his thin eyes squinted in anger and pain behind his multicolored shades.
Nepeta stands up, staring at him unshrinkingly.
"My Kat," she says, her little voice full of righteousness.
You mentally curse yourself. What have you gotten into?