A/N; I don't even know. This is alternate universe. Review for more, otherwise I'll never end up finishing it. I have about five ongoing fics right now, and they're all Hetalia except for this. This is my current favourite. I wanted to write it in second person so I did. Age differences have been adjusted so Karkat and co. are all about eighteen; and the second lot (Roxy and Jane and co.) are all in their late twenties and/or thirties. I wrote this all in a couple of hours.

### ####

"Would you mind if I hurt you?

Understand that I need to,

Wish that I had other choices,

Than to hurt the one I love,

-What have you done now?"

-Your name is Karkat Vantas.

Your head slammed into the hard concrete wall behind you, making you completely unable to stop the faint whimper that escaped your throat as a trail of red blood dripped down your forehead. There was a thumping sound from deep within your head that you regretfully assumed was yet another of those painful headaches. Your vision was blurring as you forced your bloodstained head up, meeting those purple eyes with your own unflinching red gaze. The violet-eyed gaze seemed oddly puzzled by your reaction, still expecting one day that you'd give up and die, or run away. You knew the taller, lankier man still had a club clenched in one fist, but kept eye contact, staring him down even though in reality you couldn't even focus on that ghastly and messed-up clown makeup. The only noise in the room was your own harsh, panicked breathing as you struggled to get enough air into your oxygen-starved lungs- a strange difference to anyone who knew you two, because usually neither of you would shut up. As much as you tried breathing, you really weren't getting anywhere; your vision was blacking out into static the more you pushed yourself. The blood was getting into your eyes, and it stung horribly, burning you. You pushed it aside; trying to ignore it as much as possible in favour of struggling to form words to push past your damaged windpipe- anything, just to make him stop- but it was nearly futile. You were almost too far-gone for any clarity.

"G-Gam…please…"

One weak, bloodstained hand reached up almost to try to touch the man, Gamzee, but you watched it blur out of vision and become completely indistinct. All you could see was the dark red, everywhere, consuming everything in its' grasp, and you could feel yourself slumping forward, your hand dropping limply to the tiled floor with a muffled splash. It was warm, too warm to be tiles, but you wanted to believe that it was simply water and not the blood you'd seen everywhere.

"I don't want you to see this, Karbro."

That lilting voice, so quiet all of a sudden, gave you a reply that really wasn't an answer at all. At any other time, you'd be yelling at him to clarify, to make sense and not idiocy, but it was far too late for all of those hijinks now.

Too late, your mind echoed emptily as you fell into the darkness.

Far too late.

### ####

"Mr Vantas, are you awake?"

The first sensation you were aware of as you came back to consciousness slowly was the aching pain in your head. It wasn't at just one point within your head, but making a trip all around, to the swelling you could feel on your cheeks, the sharp jabs inside your head, the stinging of your still-closed eyes. The pain was dulled, though, as if there was a layer of cotton between it and your dulled mind. There was warmth on your face, however, and that puzzled you a little. There weren't really any places with sunlight in your apartment or anything…except for the balcony. Had you really fallen asleep out there… And why did your head hurt so much…?

"Mr Vantas?"

"…Mmh…"

You manage to grunt out a noncommittal response to the voice annoying you. It was right in your ear, probably beside you, and it was a pain in your ass, keeping you awake. You register it as a woman's voice, but otherwise didn't really care. You just wanted to go back to sleep, to sink back into that comfortable blackness that didn't have pain, or alertness, or anything. You didn't want to have to answer this woman; you didn't want to do anything that involved moving or thinking- or existing in general, even- and this woman wasn't going to stop you in your quest.

"Mr Vantas, dear, I need you to sit up. You need to take this medication now, please."

…Medication?

"Wh't f'r?"

Curiosity sparked in your drowsy mind and you swam back up to full consciousness. Your voice sounded muffled, far away even though you were the person speaking the words. You would have scowled but it hurt too much to do that particular option, so you sit up at the request, however, with a little difficulty, and the woman slipped another pillow under your back so you could sit on the bed with more comfort. You let out a heavy sigh, trying not to wince as the rush of air burns your throat. Gentle hands took hold of your face with one hand. It didn't even seem to occur to either of you in the room that your question had been put aside for no reason. You were enveloped in a warm hug, which sparked more questions in your mind as to why exactly a stranger was touching you, but you didn't have a lot of doubt this was supposed to comfort you or something. On the contrary, you wanted to push her away from you, but you were not strong enough to even attempt putting that much effort into a movement such as that.

"You poor thing. I can't believe such a thing happe-"

A door slammed open and you flinch into the grip of the woman's warm body, inching away from the location the loud sound had come from. Her hair brushed your nose lightly as she turned her head towards the direction, and you were overwhelmed with the nice scent of baking. She smelt so sweet and sugary, like cookies and cake. You inhale again, enjoying the scent even if you could only just get a hint of it through your aching and bruised nose. The woman spoke to whoever had just entered, her hands sliding to the small of your back to still hold you gently.

"Roxy, what is it?"

"Janey! Ish you!"

"Yes, it is. You told me to come in here and give Mr Vantas his medication."

"Oh! Did I how? …Now."

An ever-so-slightly-annoying giggle echoed the now-fixed sentence. You refrain from frowning. How much alcohol had that new woman had? And why was there a drunken lady in here? 'Else she was on drugs or something, because that kind of slurring and tripping over words was far from normal. Was she a patient or something? But the woman you were clinging to had just said that one had told her to medicate you. You crack one heavy eyelid open, braving the light you could feel on your sensitive skin to glare at her, whoever the hell she was.

That was when it hit you.

You couldn't see.

You stiffen, opening the other eye and staring- or apparently the equivalent- and you still couldn't make out anything at all. It was all black. All darkness. A sharp pang of fear hit your chest, right where your heart was. This just wasn't possible. A shudder racked you as you shift closer to the woman- Janey? - And she ran a hand up your spine comfortingly. It didn't make you feel any better, but you'd take any form of comfort at the moment.

"Wh-why can't I see?"

Your voice sounded far away still, although clearer than before as your grim reality hit you like a concrete block.

"Oh. Ya din't tell 'im?"

"I didn't know! Roxy, you didn't tell me he was blind!"

"Mm, yesh, he is! 't was d'mage to his brain."

"Roxy!"

You decide to stop listening.

I'm blind.

I'm fucking blind.

You can't hear what the two women in the room are saying/arguing about any more as it fades slowly from your hearing into an indistinct blur (much like your sight, you think wryly). You finally figured out where in hell you were, by the sound of the steady beep of a monitor, the indifference the whole place seemed to have, the cold sterile feel. It all made a horrifying pile of sense now you actually have a brain in that crevice.

The hospital.

You drop back onto the sheets bonelessly.

### ####

-You have stopped being Karkat Vantas. You are now this guy, who can't be bothered with his name at the moment.

"Ew, look at the creepy guy."

"What's with the clown makeup?"

"It's like something from a horror movie."

"Don't go near that man, honey! He might have diseases."

You cough, the sound loud as you drop down onto the gutter, sitting on the side of the street like a homeless bum. You ignore the uppity people striding past you, and their unhidden looks of disgust. You knew you weren't clean, and your makeup had probably smeared to a weird sort of mess. This part of the city probably wasn't the best place to be. Even sane, you hadn't been a huge fan of the part of this place. Even if you belonged here. After all, you had as much money, as much shit as any of these pompous motherfuckers had. A scowl tugged at your lips but you didn't let it change your expression, bright eyes scanning the crowd.

You stand up to make your way downtown, to the dregs of society so you could maybe steal some old food or some motherfucking shit like that. You were totally up for stealing right now, because your stomach was like a dying grub. It was all up and grumbling like nothing on earth. You pat it comfortingly and begin your trek, still ignoring the people wondering why a guy with smeared clown makeup and pyjamas on was wandering around the streets aimlessly. You take one look back at the brand-name clothing stores, the health foods, the polluted air, and decide then and there you were going to return one day. But it wasn't today. You would go to the bottom and work your way up, as someone else, perhaps. Someone you felt like being.

This could work out quite nicely if you played your cards right.

A grin spread across your face.

### ####

The house was decrepit, and smelled of drugs. You knew it was a good place to start, and immediately set up residence on the couch. You were going to have to wait a while; it was doubtful any of them would show up yet because their scout had only just taken off and he'd gone down the middle of the street, meaning the main heads of this group clearly didn't occupy any other spaces around this lane. You put your feet up and began to wait for them to appear.

"Hey, man, this is our pad. What're ya doing here?"

You look up, smelling the aura of smoke. Was that weed? You could use some of that. Smoke curled from one of the guys' nostrils and you inhaled, trying to get some of the scent into your body. It didn't work in the slightest, but you figured you could work this one out with a little bit of effort. Stoners surely weren't that unfriendly. You let a lazy smirk onto your face and pat the moth-eaten couch next to you in a 'sit' gesture.

"Come join me, motherfuckers. I was just all up and hopin' to get my party on, ya know?"

The men seemed to communicate without words and grinned at each other slowly.

"You heard we got the goods, then?"

"I'm all up in that business, my man. What have ya got?"

One of the men held up a sandwich bag, and you looked over the white powder in it with an appreciative nod. Cocaine was always good for a game. Another held up the weed you'd been able to smell and you grinned back at them as they all sat down. One had a bottle of vodka, and you felt the familiar bubble of excitement stir in your stomach at all the goods you were about to indulge in. Thank god stoners were so motherfucking stupid or you would have actually had to have paid for all this shit.

You let out a chuckle.

### ####

-Enough of being the crazy guy. Be Karkat again.

"Karkat? How are you today?"

You were sitting on the edge of the hard hospital bed, tracing your fingers over your old beat-up laptop without even turning it on. You had asked for it and the hospital had sent someone to retrieve it from your apartment. Although, what was the point of it, now? You tilt your head in the direction of the door, letting a faint frown brush your features as you reply to Jane Crocker- you'd learnt her very suitable name after the first few days, and had offered your own instead of the usual 'Mr Vantas'- in a brisk tone that didn't give away the fact that you were beginning to think of the woman as a friend.

"I'm fucking horrible. As usual."

You could tell she was smiling now, and have to resist the temptation to lift the corners of your own lips. Jane had quickly understood you had a bit of a sharp tongue, but didn't bother with telling you off or any bullshit like that. She just took in it her bakery-woman stride and ignored it. She'd sneaked in a bunch of shit for you, including audio movies (oddly enough, she'd picked up that you liked rom-coms) and headphones so you could listen to the words. You were currently starting Fifty Shades of Grey, and when you had requested it Jane had agreed, with an amused sort of tone to her voice.

You hadn't left the hospital room once. You wanted to, but you needed assistance and Jane was too busy to walk you around, and she was only a volunteer anyway. Her girlfriend, Roxy, was the actual nurse, but she was drunk so often that Jane had to intervene and do most of her work for her. You'd suggested Jane become a nurse herself, but she had replied that she'd rather cook. And her cooking was fucking amazing. You lived for the cake you'd been treated to a couple of times.

"I'm not surprised, Karkat."

"What's new?"

"I brought someone with me today."

"What?"

If it had been Roxy, you would have heard her by now. Which meant it was someone new. And the gentle tone Jane was using meant it was someone she liked very much, so it wasn't just a doctor or some shit like that. You edge forward so you're not sitting on the bed, just standing, and turn towards the door. Even though you can't see what's going on you still prefer to look whatever way people are, not to be polite (fuck that shit) but just to feel some kind of normalcy in your pain.

"This is John. He's my brother's son, my nephew."

Ah. A relative, then. You frown lightly.

"Hi! I'm John Egbert, nice to meet you!"

"Karkat."

He sounded about twelve, but you assumed that he must have been fifteen or so, because when his footsteps approached you his voice was above you somewhere. You tilted your head up slightly, still unsure of where exactly this 'John' was. There was a gentle laugh, more of a childish giggle, and your chin was adjusted a bit before the boy let go of you. Good. You were a few seconds away from ripping his intestines out for touching you without permission.

"You were looking at my neck," you were informed. You frowned and folded your arms.

"Fuck off, Egbert."

"I can see you two are going to be friends, then," Jane said from the door. "I have to go save Roxy. Can you watch John for me, Karkat?"

You grumbled an affirmative. Fuck the kid, but you'd help Jane.

"I'm seventeen, Nanna! I don't need babysitting!"

Seventeen? Really? That explained the height, then. But the attitude was still that of a five-year-old. You could see why he might need babysitting. He already felt like a problem, with the noise he was making. He called out the words, but as there was no reply you assumed Jane had already left the room.

Wait.

"Hang on…Nanna? I thought she was your aunt."

"She is!"

"Then why…?"

"Oh, I've always called her that!"

You scowled. This was going to be a long, long day.

"But now you are slipping away,

What have you done now?

Why, why does fate make us suffer?

There's a curse between us, between me and you."