A/N: Written while in a terrible mood and suffering a case of writer's block. I promise there is a happy ending in here somewhere.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are not sorry. That fact is apparent as you stare at the cuts criss-crossing on your arm, forming a chaotic pattern you traced out with your own claws. You find yourself growling at the painfully bright red blood dripping down to the floor of your ablutionblock. You were making a mess of the floor, and you couldn't bring yourself to care in the slightest bit. You were perfectly content to sit in the middle of your ablutionblock and watch your blood drip down your arm. That is, until you heard your door open. You mentally kicked yourself for leaving it unlocked. You crawled slowly to the corner of the room, waiting with bated breath as you hoped beyond hope that it wasn't your moirail, anyone but him.

"Hey, motherfucker!" But of course, fate hates you and you watch Gamzee walk into the room, face spanning several emotions from happy to confused before finally settling on a look of complete horror.

"Gamzee..." Your voice was weak and seemed to throw your diamond into action as he franctically sought out your first aid and brought it over, pulling you to him before pulling a cleaning solution from the kit, talking the whole time.

"Karbro, why would you up and do a thing like this?" He opened the cleaning solution and poured it over your arm. You let out a hiss at the stinging sensation. "I'm so sorry, Karbro. I shouldn't have let this happen. I'm sorry. I should have been paying more attention to you. I'm the worst motherfucking moirail."

"Gamzee?"

"Yeah, I'm right here. What is it you need, my palebro?"

"I'm not sorry." You expect your moirail to lash out and yell at you or hit you but he doesn't. Your confused and so you look up at the taller troll all but hovering over you. He's giving you the saddest smile you ever thought possible and it hurts so much that you're forced to look back down, watching as his fingers meticulously bandage up the cuts on your arm. You didn't think that amount of concentration was possible from him. You also hate the fact that he's only so focused because you might die if the bleeding doesn't stop. You cut a lot deeper than you initially thought you did.

You look around and all you see is red. Red on the floor. Red on your shirt, soaking through to your chest. Red on his shirt and his face, the mutant color not seeming to bother him in the least. Red in his hair. Red running down your cheeks as you start crying, the tears wiped away as your moirail starts papping you gently. He's crying too, you can tell by the slight shaking in his shoulders. He never makes a sound, but the silent shaking and the indigo tears trailing down his cheeks and caught in his lashes feels like a hand around your blood pumper, squeezing in the most painful way.

"Gamzee?" He's done bandaging your arm so you feel safe enough to reach up and tilt his head towards yours.

"What is it, Karbro? Are you alright? Are you gonna pass out?"

You shake your head. You hadn't lost that much blood and while you felt a little woozy, you knew it wasn't too serious. "I'm not sorry." You all but fell into his arms as you press your lips to his. You feel him start and you were about to pull away until he crushed you to his chest, returning the kiss and even deepening it. You let yourself get lost in it before leaning back, feeling lightheaded for a totally different reason now.

"Be my matesprit, Gamzee?"

"You motherfucking bet. Been waiting for you to up and make that move." You smile at his words and let your head fall against his chest, closing your eyes. You were exhausted and skirting close to the edge of sleep in your new-found matesprit's arms. There was drying blood on yours and his clothes as well as hair, but you didn't care at this moment. You could clean yourselves up later. Right now, you just wanted to sleep.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and your moirail just became your matesprit. You are not sorry.