N/A: Wow I haven't written fan fiction in like 6 months aha. I was having writer's block on an original story so I did this to help me through it. I might post a prequel but don't hold your breath. We all know how awful I am at updating things.

It doesn't take long for Karkat to make it to John's apartment. What takes so long is the need to awkwardly shuffle around outside so he could avoid the eventual confrontation. It's not that he doesn't want to see John, it's just that he'd wish he'd taken up smoking so he'd have a reason to wait is all.

But really, the doorman is giving him weird looks; which is expected, Karkat guesses. The actual smokers have come down after their noon lunches to grab a quick cig, then run back up where it's over 32 degrees. Karkat rides the elevator with them. He's half an hour late with the ten minutes of not leaving his house, the 15 walk it takes to get to John's, and the 5 he spent outside like a total bulge-bitter acting like the creep screw up he's bound to be. But he knows Egbert's not gonna care. If anything, he would barely notice. It's 12:41 when he knocks on the apartment's door.

"Karkat!"

"Hey." He pushes past Egbert to dump his heavy-still too big for him-coat on the communal couch John and Dave have shared since they'd bought the damn thing 3 years ago. Speaking of the asshole…

"Sup Vant-ass," he says, pronouncing it just like that; Vant-ass.

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ—please tell me you and Terezi aren't bring around that insufferable and unimaginative—might I add—nickname back from the depths and pits of hell where it once went so unmercifully to die?"

"That's the plan. We're like the Jesuses of nicknames. The messiahs, as Terezi's and your collective boyfriend would put it. Resurrecting names from the hills and pits of heaven and hell. We've rounded up Eggbutt, Karkitty, Crab-dad, and of course, Vant-ass."

"Half of those are involving me!"

"Haha, but remember when Terezi called you David Strudel for, like, a week?"

Dave turns his head in John's direction with a look of unimpressed passivism, which you don't really think is a thing, but whatever. "Now is not the time for jokes, Eggbutt. Leave this to the professionals."

"Where is Terezi, anyways?"

"I'm gonna go pick her up. Leave you and Karkles—", "Don't call me that!", "-leave you and Karkles alone for a while. Think you can handle it?"

"Y'know, Dave? I think I can!" John responds sarcastically.

"Baller. Be back later. No wild parties."

"See ya, Dave!"

He does that weird thing his brother taught—flash stepping, Karkat thinks—over to the door and down the stairs. Even though the elevators are like, right there. Asshole. But whatever, shouldn't worry so much about it. He leaves the door wide open and John has to be the one to walk back to close it. Karkat's still by the couch, wearing a hole in the corner of the cushion.

"You ok?" John asks, his voice going quiet.

"Yep."

"Um. Do you want a drink? Or something? Uh, we can watch a movie until Dave and Terezi get back?"

Karkat just nods his head, uncharacteristically quiet. When John goes to pick out a movie from under the TV, Karkat shakes his head a little, hoping to clear his thoughts enough to function.

"50 First Dates is cool right? You like that one?"

"Well it doesn't make me want to spill my blood all over your shitty apartment, so yeah, put it in." John smiles and does as he's told. He lets Karkat get situated on the couch as he goes to make popcorn. The movie is hardly started by the time he's back.

This is good, Karkat thinks. Watching a movie means that he can just curl up on the couch next to John and not really worry about anything. But Dave's gonna be back soon if the world continues to go the way it is, and he knows he still has to tell Egbert. Adam Sandler has barley began seducing Drew Barrymore by the time Karkat hits pause. John seems unsurprised by the interruption. He turns towards Karkat, and takes his hand.

"The only reason why I'm pausing the movie is because Strider will be back soon, so don't think this means that you can interrupt me now when I'm in the middle of one of these, ok?"

John softly smiles and squeezes his hand. "What did you want to talk about?"

Karkat breaths in and out sharply through his nose. "It's, uhm, it's a really shitty story, so sorry in advance. It's just that…I don't think I'm getting better? Like, with my depression, I guess. Uh—sorry this is pretty weird. But it's kinda just depleted into a bigger shit storm than it was before. And I know you said I could call or whatever when I needed, I knew that, but I wasn't—"

John stops him when he grabs Karkat's wrist with his other hand. He's not trying to hurt him, and it doesn't, but Karkat feels like he can't hide anymore. John knows. Karkat nods his head, and John moves the sleeve of his sweatshirt up. Lots of small, dark cuts line his forearm. They're shallow, but sensitive. It makes his darker complexion seem much redder.

"Oh my god, Karkat," he whispers.

"I-I was being such an idiot and over thinking way too much. And then I was gonna call you, but I think you said you and Dave were gonna go to Vriska's club thing? So I just didn't and that just got me way more upset than I should've been. God, I am so sorry, I'm so sorry." Karkat's crying a little by this point. He's not sobbing, but seeing the look on John's face might change that.

"No, god no. Please don't apologize. Karkat, I really wish you would have called. I would have come over and helped you through this."

There's guilt rolling in Karkat's stomach. He doesn't know what he expected John to say, he didn't think this far enough, apparently. But he honestly just feels worse than when he got here. "No, yeah, I know. I just wanted to let you know is all. I—uh—think I'm just gonna head home before Terezi and Strider get—" John stops him again, this time smashing against him for a hug.

"I'll call them, or I'll go back with you, or something. Karkat, I really care about you, and I already said I'd help you through this." Karkat's stunned for a moment before he puts his arms around John's neck and buries his face in his shoulder. John starts running his hands up and down Karkat's back. It's silent for a few moments before John breaks it. "What do you want to do?"

"I'll just…leave earlier than planned. We can still hang with Terezi and Dave. It's ok."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm ok."

John hugs him a bit tighter for a moment, then lets go. He softly grabs Karkat's wrist again. The sleeves are still rolled up with the scars visible. "Do they still hurt?"

"Not really. When my sleeve brushes against them, then yeah."

"Oh! I've got band-aids in the kitchen," John says, jumping from the couch.

"Nah, it's fine, really."

"It'll take like 5 minutes Karkat and it'll make you feel better." And he's off, leaving Karkat to scratch at his forearm. There's shuffling coming from the kitchen before Egbert reemerges. "Found 'em! Here I'll put them on for you." He sits down next to Karkat again, and opens the box to peel the paper off the bandage. Carefully, he places it where the cuts begin; up on his wrist. He repeats it until there are too pale bandages up Karkat's arm. When he's done, John leans down and kisses a couple spots, stopping at the palm of Karkat's hand.

"Sap," Karkat chokes up a little on the word.

"Hehe, you love cheesy gestures like that."

"Yeah." Karkat pulls the sleeve of his sweatshirt back down and wipes his eyes. "…thanks. Can we put the movie back on?"

"Yeah! Of course!" John reaches for the remote and presses play. He's back in no time up against Karkat's side, with an arm thrown over his shoulders. "Dave will be back soon and you and Terezi can tell him how awful that black tank top is so he'll throw it out."

"I would never miss an opportunity to insult the fuck ass, you know that."

"Hehe! Thanks, Karkat!"

"Yeah. Thanks, John."