All is Fair in Love and Chemical Warfare.

Title: "All is Fair in Love and Chemical Warfare"

Rating: M - for violence, swearing, use of alcohol (possibly drugs), and lots and lots of smut.

Pairing: Johnkat.

Description: My name is Karkat Vantas and I can hear my name being said over and over again through the crack in the door as I sit in a chair just outside that very same office. In the past nine years I have been placed in twenty three different foster homes, and I'm pretty sure I just ruined my chances at a normal life yet again. No one wants to adopt a seventeen year old. No one wants to adopt a seventeen year old with horrible anger issues and violent outbursts. And they especially don't want a sociopath. If only someone could help me change. Someone like John Egbert.

"That Boy's a Sociopath"

Act 1

The man in the suit taps his foot against the hardwood of his office floor. A sigh emanates from his heavy chest. The suit is hanging off him in awkward places and he dabs his brow with a handkerchief. There is a pounding in his head that can't seem to subside. My fingernails dig at my scalp through the messy dark brunette hair atop my head and soon I find them sliding down to wipe away invisible tears in my eyes. My name is Karkat Vantas and I can hear my name being said over and over again through the crack in the door as I sit in a chair just outside that very same office. In the past nine years I have been placed in twenty three different foster homes, and I'm pretty sure I just ruined my chances at a normal life yet again. No one wants to adopt a seventeen year old. No one wants to adopt a seventeen year old with horrible anger issues and violent outbursts. And they especially don't want a sociopath. The words special accommodations and more time seep through the door. The lights seem to be to bright all of a sudden, too bright and the pounding grows louder, forcing me to rub my temples with the first two fingers on each hand.

I look down at my feet, jaw clenched as the foster care agent's voice grows louder, more critical and the fat business man denies any possibility of me finding a new home yet again. He's too violent, the fat man says. Deranged. We don't know what he could do next. What if he snaps? What if he snaps and finally kills someone? Nobody will ever want him. That boy's a sociopath. And then the woman's voice lowers, inaudible save for the clacking of her heels and the unpleasant creak of the old office door that cuts through the stale air. "Come on Karkat," she says now more gently, grabbing my hand and practically dragging me out of the dusty old office.

My jaw is still clenched, my heart still racing, but I willingly follow the commandeering woman out of the building and into her silver Passat. The woman buckles hurriedly before finally taking in a deep breath and turning to look at me. I study her features for the millionth time. She looks fairly young, with plain brown hair and plain brown eyes. The only thing that makes you want to study her face any more than that is the thin contour of laugh lines by the sides of her mouth. Her name is Sarah West. Another addition to her whole aura of stodginess.

"I've been your foster care agent for five years now," she states looking me in the eyes. In fact, I'm surprised I haven't yet scared her off as I did the other two my first years in foster care when I was much worse and prone to temper tantrums and violent fits of rage. Luckily I had grown out of the prior and mostly the latter but not quite. "I think you are a smart, talented young man and I feel like maybe the agency just wasn't placing you with the right people..." she took a moment from her fretting to start the car and turn on the air conditioning.

Oh boy, here comes my 'I love you but you're a bad kid so die' speech. Okay, maybe not that dramatic but still. "And so I've decided to take you in myself." There we go, I knew it. I knew she had to be like everyone else saying I'm out of control, deranged even! So I'm sorry everyone for existi-

Wait, what did she say?

I'm sure that right about now I have an expression of pure shock plastered to my face. She smiles, her eyes squinting slightly as she sees my reaction. "On one condition, mister. You have to attend high school. Do you think you can do that?" she asks, raising one brow.

"O-uh-y-yeah," I fumble for some form of coherency, I can feel my cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

She nods before turning to look where she's driving, switching the gear into Drive. I turn to look out the window and contemplate what ever could have possessed her to do such a thing.

Boring old laugh-line Sarah West lives in Washington state, little to my prior knowledge. And so I was stuck in a small silver Passat for god knows how long so we could drive from southern California to good ole' no-man's-land Washington wherever the fuck that may be. All I know is that the houses passing us in the cars are either big, or bigger. In fact, I actually might feel slightly intimidated by the fact that some of the houses even have white picket fences and dogs with children playing in the yard. This is certainly unlike any areas I've been assigned to which is pretty much anywhere in a city or on the outskirts of a city. Another thing that catches my eye is the fact that there is so much green. I suppose I could get used to it.

"Oh! Karkat we're almost here, this is my neighborhood," Sarah fidgets in her seat in anticipation and I can't help but smile a little. But then her motions stop all of a sudden, "Oh yeah, I should probably tell you that I live with my brother, Chase, but I doubt you'll have any issues with him - he's a pretty cool guy. Maybe you could do guy stuff together, y'know?" I swear I catch her winking at me but I shrug it off and pay close attention to where we are going.

Sarah turns on her blinker and before I know it we're turning left into a lovely colonial with a flower entangled archway overhanging the beginning of a short path to the front porch. It's a beautiful subdued yellow with the two tone of brick on the wall adjacent to the porch. There are flowers patches and flower pots everywhere. "So?" Sarah asks, turning off the ignition and pulling the keys out. "What do you think?"

A barely audible woah leaves my lips as I practically gawk at this perfect little home. I can hear Sarah laugh as she gets out of the car. A thin man with tortoiseshell specs almost flies out of the screen door and embraces Sarah as if he hadn't seen her in a millennium. "Hello Chase," I hear her say as she squeezes him back. The man turns to look over at me, "And you must be Karkat!" he states and I can't help but fidget in awkward embarrassment. He's younger than Sarah, and it seems to be by about ten years or so from the looks of it. Chase remains at ease with my awkwardness and holds out his fist. I can't help but smile and embrace the opportunity to get off on the right foot with this guy. He seems like the type who could get you out of bad situations and not give you any crap about it later but just shake his head and laugh at your stupidity. Personally I feel like I might need one of those kinds of people hanging around. I mimic his actions and give him a well deserved fist bump.

"So Karkat, wanna see your room? I just finished moving the bed in about fifteen minutes or so before you got here." I practically double-take.

"I get my own room?" I ask bewildered. Happy yes, but also bewildered. None of my foster parents before took the liberty to give me my own bedroom, or furniture for the matter.

Sarah lets out a lighthearted chuckle. "Of course, hun. I'm not planning on letting you go anytime soon," she eyes me playfully like a mother would and I blush, slinking back into my gray hoodie.

The three of us quickly hurried into the house after grabbing my backpack (which mind you held everything I owned) and made our way through the kitchen and up the stairs to the second floor. When we all reach the hallway after the wooden staircase, I catch sight of a paper in Chase's hand. "What's that?" I ask and he puts on a crooked smile.

"This my friend," he waves the white paper around a bit, "is your class roster for Alternia High School this year."

Oh right, I'm suppose to go to high school. Well, fuck. I sigh before grabbing the sheet of paper from Chase as he offers it. My eyes search the page for classes. Good, not too many. English, Chemistry, Algebra III, Studio Art, Advanced Music Theory, and... I grimace. Fucking fantastic. The one thing I've always dreaded throughout my entirety was on this here roster. Fuck my life. The paper reads 'Physical Fitness' in black ink. Great. Gym class.

"Hopefully that's alright, I didn't want your schedule to be too overloaded. And I know you're good at musical things like singing and I think Sarah mentioned you could play guitar so I thought you would like that. Unfortunately you're forced to take certain classes like Chem and Fitness and you needed an English and Math credit so I just signed you up for the next level up than the classes you had last year. Sarah also said that Art calms your nerves so I asked if they could put you into that class." Chase gleams as he is obviously happy with his work.

I smile. I suppose I can force my way through gym. Sarah motions for me to walk all the way down the hall to a closed door. When I reach to where she is standing, I look back at her for confirmation. "Go on," she smiles and speaks with a gentle tone. I nod and my hand reaches for the doorknob, turning it and pushing the wooden door open all the way. When I step inside I am instantly in love. This room is larger than I imagined. The floors are a beautiful hardwood as is most of the house and the walls a light slate colour. In the center of the room against the far wall is a full sized bed with darker gray sheets and matching pillow cases. They are plain with no cheesy design - the way I like it. There's also a full-body mirror on the same wall beside the bed, and I get a clear glimpse of I what I look like for the first time in quite a while.

Who I see staring back at me doesn't surprise me at all. Pale skin, very dark brunette hair, amber eyes which sometimes look red in the sunlight, eyebrow piercing on my right along with the cartilage, mid-cuff and two other piercings on my right ear that I see as I turn my head. I do the same the other way and spot that I still have my left mid-cuff and original piercing in which is good. And boy, do my eyes look sunken in from the dark circles hugging beneath them. I'm still wearing my favorite gray hoodie and this time black sweatpants. A charmer, right? But unfortunately these are currently my only clean clothes.

I glance around the room, attempting to distract myself from the ghastly figure that is me in the mirror. And then I see it. I drop my backpack onto the floor and quickly walk over to it to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me or not. It's a guitar. Acoustic, but nonetheless a guitar. An actual working guitar. I whip around to see both Chase and Sarah smiling at me and Chase nods. He knows how much this means to me already. I pick it up off it's base in the corner and strum it lightly, listening to each distinct sound the strings make. It's in-tune, too. This is probably the single best day of my life right now at this very moment. I sigh before gently setting the beautiful instrument back down where it was, safe and sound from harm, and then continue to explore my new room. I whip around and sit down on the bed, immediately noticing the particularly large flat-screen attached to the wall and a small shelf stand holding up a DVD player and digital clock.

I lie back and breath in the air of the new place I'll be calling home. "I haven't had one in what seems like forever," I sigh, mumbling to myself. I can basically hear Sarah smiling when she speaks, "What, your own room?"

I smile, "my own bed."