Diamonds here, bringing you your daily sadstuck.

So this is what I sincerely hope will not happen when John and Jade and company meet up with everyone else.

John steps eagerly into the dim grey room where he is assured his friends are waiting. He and Jade have waited a very long time for this, and nice though she is, he will be thrilled to have someone else to talk to, Maybe someone a little quieter.

The first to come forward are, unsurprisingly, Rose and Dave. Rose's face lights up immediately when she sees the two of them, and Dave follows right behind her, doing his best not to copy her expression. Too-tight hugs are exchanged all around, because really it has been forever, hasn't it?

Then come the round of introductions from the trolls, with Karkat trying and failing to mediate between everyone at once. It's strange, thinks John, having sort of known the trolls for so long, but only as lines (or in Kanaya's and Karkat's cases, walls) of colored text over Pesterchum. Now that they're finally meeting in person it's a little surreal.

That is his first though on the matter.

The second is, where's Vriska?

The blue-blooded troll girl had sounded so excited to meet him. She had even proposed them having a "d8" of all things. So where was she? She didn't seem like the type to avoid her first meeting with a bunch of aliens, whether or not John was there.
A shadow of worry beginning to form in his mind, he voices his thought.

There is a long, oppressive silence. His worry increases and becomes almost unbearable, until finally Karkat speaks up, quieter than John imagined him capable of speaking.

"She's dead, John. I tried to tell you before."

No.

No, that was impossible, they were going to meet each other someday, she'd promised—

His thoughts are interrupted as one of the trolls steps forward into the light: the one dressed in red and teal, with the red glasses and dragon-headed cane. Terezi, he thinks. She walks forward slowly, deliberately, until she is barely a foot from John. With a soft metal scraping, she pulls the cane in two, revealing the blade hidden inside of it. Still avoiding his eyes, she thrusts the blade into his hands. John is momentarily confused, turning the weapon around in his hands until the metal catches the light and he sees a few telltale blue stains. Stains the exact color of Vriska's eight-riddled typing.

"You?" he asks, voice catching.

She looks down again, or he thinks she does, and nods almost imperceptibly.

"Yes." Her voice, so grating and enthusiastic only minutes before, is barely raised above a whisper.

Eyes widening, John looks into the face of the girl—no, the troll—who killed his friend.

Before he can do anything to stop it, his eyes begin to fill with tears. He looks at her, and sees a cruel petty alien. Vriska'd warned him about her, hadn't she? Now he can see why. He just thought they had a casual rivalry, no bid deal or anything to worry about, really, but this unbelievable troll girl had killed her in cold blood. Stabbed her in the back with that awful red cane-sword. Why she'd done it doesn't matter to him. All that matters is that Vriska is dead, and he'd promised to meet her and can't now, and it's Terezi's fault.

Terezi is thankful right now that she can't see, but his accusing, tearful expression is hard to avoid anyway. Yes, she did kill Vriska. Stabbed her in the back and let her bleed out alone on the ground. And she'd do it again in a heartbeat if she had to. But she is pretty sure that she will never stop feeling guilty about it. Her, the wannabe legislacerator with the strongest sense of justice on Alternia, and she is feeling guilty. She shouldn't be feeling that way. Vriska was a criminal who needed to be punished for her crimes, and was endangering everyone just by being alive. She was not someone who deserved her sympathy or anyone else's.

But none of that changes the fact that once upon a time they had been sisters, and that somehow, even as she killed Vriska, Terezi still loved her. That it had been the only thing to do, but she still feels pangs of guilt. That those cerulean bloodstains might eventually wash off her cane, but they will never wash out of her mind.

She closes her sightless eyes, hoping the accusing human boy standing in front of her won't notice the teal slowly leaking out of them. Biting the inside of her lip hard enough to draw blood so that he can't see it trembling.

John looks through tear-blurred eyes at the girl who killed his friend and carefully files away, deep in his brain, the thought that she must have had a reason.

A/N: If you liked this, please let me know. I have some more writing time before school starts again. Thanks!