There are times when you really, really dislike being blind.

Like when you're walking down hallways that are all the same color, which makes it harder to sniff out doors. Hell, even with your cane, it's pretty difficult to get to where you're trying to go, seeing as you can't tell whose door is whose by tapping it with a stupid cane.

But you know the way to Karkat's room. You know it by heart.

So, as your cane click-click... click-click's against the floor, you run your fingertips along the wall, feeling for Karkat's door, of which he's left four huge gouges in (from a temper tantrum which resulted in his door being clawed) and make it like none other.

The reason you're searching for the Cancer troll is simple: No one know where in the name of fuck he's gone. You, Gamzee and Sollux have been sent to look for him, seeing as you three know him the best. Gamzee decided to check the lab, Sollux, the wiring room for the computers, and you, his own room.

Because you happen to know a key bit of information that the others do not, that being that Karkat has not slept in five days, due to him working so hard on fixing broken codes and sifting through timelines. He was a sorry-ass sight (smell) when you had talked to him last, the other morning, hunched over a computer, nearly-black bags under his eyes as he stared at the screen, scanning through some memo that seemed painfully boring, what with how Karkat types so meaninglessly. You scolded him, and tried to convince him to sleep. He told you to mind your own business- quite polietly, actually.

Which brings you to now, your knuckles rapping on the door a few times. You pray he's in here, or you might consider going insane yourself.

"Kartkat? It's Terezi. You in there?"

There's a thick silence, and your stomach drops. You think about turning away, but then, you definitely hear something move inside the room. There's a few quick thumps, you can't tell what they are, though, and the door is cracked open about one fucking centimeter. When you look (more like smell) to see what has done this, you are greeted by the scent of pavement and dulled cherries and black licorice.

Karkat.

You sigh in relief.

"Jegus, Karka-!"

You don't get to finish, because before you know it, you're being yanked by the wrist into Karkat's room. It smells like wires and rubber and messy clothes, but you don't really care. As long as the inhabitant of said room is okay.

He closes the door extremely carefully, which is very, very strange. For anyone. You frown, leaning on your cane as you smell his eyes upon you.

"And just where the hell have you been, mister?"

He's silent, before blowing out a mouthful of air. "Trying to sleep."

This is a shock. You blink, although the action only shows him your surprise and serves no real purpose, and tilt your head in wonder at him. "Sleep? The great Karkat Vantas is trying to get some sleep? Oh my, this must really be serious then, huh? Has my lusus finally hatched or something?"

You're playing with him, but not really. Your words are light, joking, but again, not really. You're trying to get him to open up. You're trying to make him let his fucking guard down for one single minute so he can vent, privately, to you. Because you'll always listen to him. No matter what.

You hear him take quick footsteps, then a plop as he drops himself into his desk chair. You can imagine him, holding his head in his hand, grimacing like one might at the sight of vomit as he does so. Carefully, you feel your way over to where he's sitting, placing comforting hands on his shoulders. Sooner rather than later, his hands are on top of yours.

The gates open.

"I can't, Terezi. I really fucking can't."

"Fall asleep?" You offer.

You feel his hair brush against you arms as he shakes his head. "I can't, I don't want to. Those things, the dreams I have... I-I don't want to see them. Never a-fucking-gain."

A sigh escapes you as you lift one of your hands to place it upon his forehead, to toy with his short bangs. Your lips twitch in a smile when you hear him sigh contently with your action. His comfort is what matters; it matters a lot.

"You can't keep staying up, you know," you finally state out loud.

Silence.

"Karkat. You'll die of exhaustion."

He nods. You think for a moment, before patting his shoulder and taking you hands away from him. You walk around at random for a moment, until you can place your hand on something. It's bumpy and cool- ah, yes. His recuperacoon. You can smell the scent of sopor, which kind of surprises you. With the dreams Karkat explains to you, you had thought he was out of the stuff.

"What are you doing?" He asks. You hear Karkat stand up, and with a knowing smile, you take off your shoes. You wouldn't want someone sticking their sneakers in your recuperacoon.

When he finally understands your idea, (by this time, you're reaching in empty air for his hand, one foot placed on the side of his recuperacoon) you bet he's shaking his head and looking at you like you've learned to see again.

"Please," he croaks. Your hand clamps around his wrist, yanking him closer to his near future. "Terezi, I'm not fucking around, I don't-"

"It's fine, Karkles," you reply with one of your famous, shit-eating grins. As you place your socked foot inside the cool slime, you let out a small sigh of relief. It's the best feeling in the world to step into a nice batch of cool sopor. "It's going to be fine."

You wiggle your way down inside-shit, his is big!- and keep an iron-like grip on his arm, not daring to let go, not when you're this close to the goal! You hear him shuffling about, before you hear the splooge of sopor as he steps, and then sits inside.

"Over here," you chime, opening your arms out. Karkat's nearly jumping on you, tucking his arms around your being and holding you close, as you like to hold Senator Lemonsnout when you try to catch some z's. But you don't mind. Because it's Karkat. He needs you.

You smile a calm, peaceful smile, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other resting in his hair. You feel how tense he is, and it makes you pretty nervous. You don't like it.

"Relax," you whisper, brushing your fingers through his choppy, ink-black hair. "Just relax, Kay." He nods into your shoulder, taking in a breath. You slowly feel his shoulders relax, then his arms, and so on.

You two stay like this for quite awhile, you petting Karkat's hair and rubbing his back, him holding onto you like a fucking lifeline, too afraid to even move his head to breathe better. It is here, though, you know he finally feels safe, with you, and that makes you smile. You are his cure.

When the Cancer finally falls unconscious against you, though, you do not move. You keep petting him and holding him, and you wouldn't dare let go. Not even as the scent of sopor around you and the serene feeling of being in a recuperacoon makes you feel extremely tired, as it should.

It is when you are finally drifting off to sleep beside him that you mentally kick yourself, because now both you and Karkat have gone AWOL, and that leaves very little to everyone's imagination; their perverse thoughts about a certain Libra and a well-known grumpy Cancer and buckets.

But, you decide to shrug it off. Anyone who has anything to say with have to deal with a fresh, ready-to-explode Karkat. And taking your cane to the side of the head. Simultaneously.

~O-O-O-O~

Ohhh. Karkat's sleeping patterns is such an overused premise, but thus, it has to be done.