Chapter Text
She doesn’t ring the doorbell when she finally makes it home. Such social constructs are lost on someone who’s spent the better part of their life on an uninhabited island. Instead she withdraws her key from the depths of her knapsack, hidden underneath pieces of ancient pottery, unwashed clothes, and the occasional firearm. The gold metal reflects the setting sun as she fits it into the lock.
The boys are nowhere to be seen, but she can hear the soft electric humming of a microwave deep in the suburban home. Some snatch of conversation filters from the living room. She wanders in, stands behind the couch. John is reclining there, his arm slung over the back. He chances a look over his shoulder and smiles warmly.
Without turning his head, he calls to his husband in the kitchen.
“Hey Karkat, Jade’s back!”