So this is an idea I came up with the other day, and as soon as i finished the first chapter I thought I'd post it.

Read on~

As John lay on the cold pavement in a dark alleyway, he decided he should reflect on his meaningless life before he died. His hand was pressing against the stab wound, trying to stop the gushing blood, but the red liquid continued to leak from in between his fingers.

He first remembered his dad finding out he was a homosexual. To this day, three years later, he could still picture the shock and disgust on his only parent's face. After he was tossed out onto the streets, the first thing he did was go to his best friend's house. When he asked Dave if he could stay with him, John had gotten a firm shake of the head, an apologetic look, and a door slam in the face.

That was the first night he had cried, sitting on a bench in the park during the cold night.

For the next three years, John learned how to survive on the streets. He knew which areas had the toughest gangs and avoided that section of the city; he knew how to make friends who worked at diners, so they would steal some food for him; and he knew where the warmest breezes blew during the night, so he could sleep warmly.

He felt his head spin with dizziness, bringing him back to the moment and the situation he was in. Tears poured down his face as he sniffled. So this was how he was going to die, huh? He was going to bleed to death, as no one realized a broken boy was praying for help. Soft sobs came from his hoarse throat as his shaking hands pressed to the gaping gash in his side. He didn't want to die like this.

White spots danced across his vision, coupled with bursts of hot pain. His eyes fluttered close as he let his tired body go limp.

He was about to black out when he heard footsteps approaching him. He tried to curl into a ball; what if it was his attacker, coming back to finish him off? He whimpered and opened his eyes slowly, trying to make out the person crouched in front of him.

"What the hell happened to you?" a low voice grumbled. He could make out vague features of a male, probably older than him due to the voice.

John felt himself being lifted up. His blurry vision faded to black, and he let the darkness wash over him.

When John woke up, he was lying in a bed. Bright rays of light streamed in through the window. Panic entered his mind and he tried to sit up, resulting in his side aching in pain. With a whimper, he laid back down, pulling the blanket over him even more. He assumed he was in the same bed of the stranger who had saved him. After a little while, he slowly got out of bed. He was wearing the same pants as before but he was shirtless. The guy had probably taken off his shirt so he could stitch him up. His glasses were on the bedside table, so he slowly put them on, glad that his savior had cleaned them

He bit his lip as he slowly walked out into the hallway, looking around warily. He crept down the stairs and smelled waffles. He poked his head around the corner to find an angry looking troll sitting at the table. He looked 17 or 18, and had nubby horns. He had messy black hair and yellow eyes that were focused on John's face. With a yelp, he quickly retreated around the corner, his frail body quivering. Just because the troll had saved him didn't mean he trusted him.

"I'm not going to bite, fuckass." The troll called out with an annoyed sigh. John heard the scrape of the chair on the floor and soon his savior was standing in front of him, looking down and scowling.

"What's your name?" he snapped in irritation. John didn't know what he had done to upset him.

"John." He said after a short pause.

"The name's Karkat. If you're hungry I suggest you come to the kitchen." With that, Karkat turned on his heel and swiftly went back to his seat. Baffled for a second, he slowly followed the troll, not sitting at the table but looking around. The kitchen was small compared to most houses, but to John, it was like a mansion. He saw a plate of waffles on the table, probably frozen and heated up in the oven, but he didn't care. His friend Rose, who worked at a diner and usually gave him food, had been on vacation for a week, so he hadn't eaten for a while.

He sat down at the opposite end from Karkat and began to eat. Within minutes, all six waffles were done, along with the syrup.

"Do you ever get fed at home?" the troll snorted, rolling his eyes as he ate own waffles slowly.

"I don't have a home." John said quietly, diverting his gaze to the table and tracing light patterns on the marred wood.

This shut Karkat up for about two seconds.

"Why not? You had parents, I'm sure." He replied once he had recovered, sipping his coffee and looking at the blue-eyed boy.

"I had a dad. But he disowned me when I was 13."

He said softly, his stomach beginning to hurt because he had eaten so fast.

"Why?" Karkat asked bluntly, and John flinched.

"I don't think that's any of your business." He replied, trying to keep calm.

Karkat just shrugged, casting him a look. John felt self-conscious without a shirt and was about to ask where it was when the troll suddenly questioned, "How old are you?"

"16." He answered, a little taken aback by the question. "Are you 18?" he asked back, and surprise flitted across Karkat's face. He gave a small nod of confirmation. John smiled, happy he had guessed correctly.

"Well, thanks for saving me and giving me breakfast, but I should leave now." he slowly started for the door.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" the troll snapped, and suddenly John was yanked back into the kitchen. He winced as his stomach gave a lurch of pain. He twisted out of Karkat's grasp and ran for the sink, where all six waffles came back up.

"Dumbass, you're staying here until you're better." He growled at John, who nodded weakly, swaying. He sighed and picked up the younger boy, putting him on the couch and covering him with a blanket.

"I don't want to be a burden." John told him as he looked up into glowing yellow eyes.

"Shut up and sleep, John." Karkat's voice held certain softness to it as he stared down at the boy with a scowl.

John still didn't trust Karkat, but instinct told him to get some rest, so he relaxed and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

So, should I continue this? I have big plans for it if anyone likes it.

Please review!
~samx