A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back!

Before you read this story, you need to have read its predecessor SHOULDN'T HAVE SAID A THING. This is very important. You wouldn't start on book three in a series so why start on fanfic part 2? It should be on my page or you can just search Shouldn't Have Said A Thing.

ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO HUSSIE!

TW: Intense Description of Nightmare (Dare I say gore?)

Your name is John Egbert and you'll be damned if this isn't a heavy box.

You huff with exertion as you carry your cumbersome load up the seemingly neverending stairs when you happen to glance at the window to your right that also serves as a wall for the whole stairwell. In your reflection, you note that your raven hair is matted in random places because of the stifling Texan heat that seems to smother you from virtually all directions even though you're inside. You get a sickening feeling that it will take you a long time to adjust to the strange weather, but you know it will be worth it. Also, in reaction to noted heat, your bulky glasses begin to fog up. The worst part is you can't set the damned box down to clean your glasses until you get to the next landing because the box it to big to fit on a step; you'll just have to wait.

You make your way up the stairs as fast as you can, but it still seems to take an eternity. Your arms, a spindly set covered by a hoodie gifted to you by your best friend, feel on the brink of snapping out of their sockets and tumbling down the flight followed closely by your aching legs. But, unfortunately, that seems to not be the case and you are forced to haul yourself up the last few steps and, thank your lucky stars, you are able to gently (not really) set the box down and rest your arms on your knees. You hear a set of footsteps somewhere above you and you reach out to move the box out of the way when you suddenly recognize the footsteps and look up at the person approaching you from on high.

You can feel beads of sweat drip dangerously close to your eye as you recall that your glasses are fogged beyond any possible visibility. When you reach for your eyepiece, you feel a set of hands touch your face and remove your glasses before you get the chance. This doesn't concern you as much as it would have once had, though, because you know their smell as well as you know your own, you know the sound of their breathing, you had recognized the fingers that removed your glasses from the bridge of your nose, you know this person better than you've ever known anyone. Just as suddenly as your glasses had been removed, they are placed back in front of your eyes, crystal clear, and you are greeted by the face you know so well. You smile at the image before you, sweat gathering stickily around your brow.

"Hey, Dave."

The person standing before you is Dave Strider: cool kid extraordinaire and your boyfriend of four months. His blonde hair rests perfectly along the frame of his sun glasses and his smirk makes you want to break out into an even larger grin. His aforementioned shades are completely darkened, so much that you can't see his eyes, but you know what they look like. It is a rare treat for you to get to see them, you've only gotten to look at them twice, but your memory serves you perfectly in this respect. His eyebrows hover smoothly over the orbs, years of practice have brought them to submission, expressing no emotion at all, but whenever you stare into his irises, your breath is taken away, not that you'd let him know that. They are a shocking, brilliant red, almost the color of blood, but what gets you every time is the emotion that you can see written there as plainly as the letters on your chest. You imagine that, behind the shades, he's looking at you with an amusement that you're only getting a hint of in his smirk-grin.

Smirk still in place, he raises his hands in between the two of you so that you can see their delicate movements as he carefully signs, Do you need help? and gestures to the box sitting at your feet. You study him. He's currently wearing a shirt you had bought him over the summer: a red-sleeved t-shirt with a record on it in honor of his favorite hobby and potential career path. It makes you happy to see that he appreciates something that you gave him. The shirt he's wearing does absolutely nothing to detract your attention to his lean muscles for long, however. You look back up at his stoic face and nod.

"I would love some help if you could spare it." You gladly step to the side and let the tow-head take your load.

Before he lifts the box, however, he signs Is this the last one?

"Yes," you answer immediately, and as he picks up the box, you add, "Thank god I don't have much stuff," you say this with a light chuckle, but you both feel the weight of the statement and you fall silent rather swiftly. Dave gives you a look that you can barely distinguish as an actual look, but you can tell that he would like to say something, but instead of setting the box down, he turns and walks up the stairs with absolutely no effort. You have to quicken your steps rather significantly to catch up to him.

You know it frustrates him, not being able to speak to you. He's not exactly keen on talking and being open about his disability, who wouldn't?, but you recall that he once told you that "I wasn't always like this." You have no idea what exactly made him lose his voice, but you know for a fact that it wasn't good and you can't help but grow sad when you see the faint marks on his neck that he tries so hard to hide.

You open the door into the hallway of your dorm complex for Dave when you reach your floor and follow him out into the bustle of college kids. As soon as you enter the crowded hall, all you see is chaos. College students are carrying boxes and laughing with their friends, couples are making out in front of people's doors and the owners of said-doors are waving their fists around. Parents are panicking in the turmoil, either trying to find their children to say one final goodbye or being towed along with way too many packages under their arms. The first thing you can think is that there is way too much noise in such a small area, but you are knocked from your thoughts when Dave taps your foot with his and motions with his head for you to follow him. You do and it is surprisingly easy for the pair of you to make your way down the hall and this confuses you, but then you notice what's happening. You still aren't completely sure whether it's Dave's stoic, imposing stride or your pitiful one, but the crowd seems to bend around you. It's as though you're aboard a ship at sea and it's a little strange. You can feel eyes on the two of you as you walk down the hall and it makes you more than a little uncomfortable and you really want to cling to Dave like a little kid, but you don't want to draw any more attention to yourself so you just turn your blush-ridden face to the floor and try to keep pace with Dave without running into anyone.

You suddenly feel a familiar hand entwine itself with yours and you look up at your friend. With the bustle of the hall distracting you, you hadn't heard him shift the box to his hip, freeing his hand. His head is turned straight ahead and he doesn't look any different than if he were just walking by himself, maybe more relaxed, but nothing of note. The only thing that's different about him is that his hand is holding yours and you aren't sure how you feel about the situation. Sure, you guys hold hands all the time, watching movies, reading, whatever, but with all these eyes on you... He squeezes your hand reassuringly and you instantly feel better about your position. You squeeze his hand back in response and you feel as though a force field has been set up around the pair of you, nothing, not even eyes, can penetrate it.

You finally reach the red door with the number 412 printed onto it in black lettering. There are obvious signs that posters had covered the thing top to bottom, but that isn't really any concern to you. What's the significance of a door anyway? You open this one for your friend as well and he enters behind you and immediately heads to your bedroom. You, on the other hand, remove your shoes by the door like the little clean freak you are and make your way down the short hall that serves as the entryway. You immediately find yourself in the not-very-spacious area that serves as your living room/dining room/kitchen that you can honestly say is not something to get worked up over. There are certain... aspects of the area that put you off, but one thing that gets you going is the giant, obnoxious A/C system planted in the corner of the dining room area. You guess you could get over your displeasures so long as you get to live in a place with a private bathroom. You glance over at the door that leads to said room and reconsider your statement for a moment before continuing to your new bedroom.

The room, overall, is very plain. There isn't much of anything, just a double sized bed, a decently sized dresser that seems to take over the space and a window with a lovely view of the parking lot. But you shouldn't be complaining about the view, Dave gave up the room with the window because he knows how you feel about being trapped inside without any fresh air for too long. Your bed is already covered with the Ghostbusters Sheets that Dave got you as a going away present when you decided on your college. You questioned his reasoning when he gave them to you while showing you how to sign some important nouns, but he just waved it off and signed ironic at you. That was the first word he taught you.

Dave is kneeling by your dresser, obviously having just set down the box next to the two others that are sitting against the wall. He is just getting up and you watch his spine unfurl as he stands and faces you. He catches your obvious staring and your face lights up like a christmas tree when he blares a toothy grin at you. You don't know why he only genuinely smiles when he's alone with you, but it makes the blush not feel as bad as it probably should.

Like what you see? he signs.

Shut up, you sign back. You don't trust your voice at the moment and he huffs a non-existent laugh at you.

Movie? he asks and you nod. You've been dying for some down time since the pair of you arrived in Texas. It has been non-stop walking, non-stop heat, and non-stop boxes for the past ten hours and you are one-hundred-ten percent done.

You feel an excited grin split your face and you are about to ask if you can have first pick, but he signs, First pick is mine, so fast that you barely have time to read it. Your shoulders immediately slump and you pout your lip out, Dave merely huffs at you and signs Better luck next time, Egderp. Like always, you are extremely impressed by the fluidity of his hands when he signs your pet name rapidly in the air. You swear, you could watch his hands forever... and then they do something like knock you sideways with something as simple as a shoulder slap when you weren't expecting it and your senses are knocked back into shape.

You grumble and follow him into his already set up room. Shadow seems to consume the place despite the fact that his bedside lamp is turned on because, as you noted before, his room doesn't have a window. This lack in natural light adds a touch of mystery to his room that could never be achieved in your sleeping space; his deep red comforter certainly doesn't do anything to shed the nature of the room either, though.

He is already settling up against the similarly red pillows when you make your way inside and he pats the space next to him as he retrieves his laptop. You see that he's trying to bring up Netflix when you sit next to him. "So, there's Wi-Fi." He turns back to you and his face clearly says "duh" without his hands even needing to move, "I'm guessing that the whole complex gets free Wi-Fi?" he nods, "Thought so." It takes another ten minutes before the two of you are able to see your options. During that time, you had slipped on your blue, plaid pj bottoms and signature Nic Cage t-shirt.

Dave quickly scans through the films and after a few minutes of browsing he settles on Revenge of the Ninja. You give him a look while it's buffering and, feeling your gaze, he turns and looks at you with a shrug, face swarming with mischief. You chuckle at him and after it takes five minutes for the apparently shitty connection to get the movie up to twenty percent, you blurt, "I saw a vending machine when we were walking in, I'm gonna get something," you stand up and, turning around so you can see his response, you say, "want anything?" He shakes his head no, "Okay, I'll be back in a minute."

You exit the dorm silently and start down the hall that is not nearly as crowded as it had been twenty minutes ago. In fact, it seems almost as though the halls are empty at this point. The only people out of their rooms are either messing with cell phones or heading somewhere with keys in hand. You make your way to the vending machine and you luckily notice that there are two people, a boy and a girl, at the machine already. You quickly stop in your tracks, not wanting to bother them and you hear the girl giggling at something the boy had said. As you wait, you notice that the boy is rather lanky, but his height makes him pretty intimidating. His hair is some sort of russet brown color and sticks up in odd places. From what you can see of his face, he has sharp features. The girl, on the other hand, looks... soft. There is no other word you could use to describe her. She is no where near as tall as her friend and has a very curvy body. Her long dark hair flows freely down to about her mid-back in gentle waves and even her bubbly laugh makes you think of down. The girl's head turns a little bit too far over her shoulder, however, and she spots you. You are about to head back to your room without claiming your prize, but her smile stops you.

"Why hello there!" she says, positively beaming at you. Even though you are fairly certain she is your age, there is something in the way she looks at you that makes you think of your crazy aunt who can't seem to get over the fact that she has a nephew.

"Uh, hi," you respond meekly. The boy just looks at you and, when you make eye contact, you see that he's dichromatic. You can't hold his gaze for long, however, and you have to look down at your feet.

"My name's Feferi, and this is Sollux," you nod at each of them in turn and realize that Sollux has a poker face that could almost rival that of a Strider. But since it's not quite there, you can plainly see in the way his jaw is set, in the way that he drapes his arm around Feferi's shoulder, that he doesn't seem to like you at all; you gulp.

"I-I'm John."

"Oh! You must be John Egbert!" she giggles, "We've heard a lot about you, haven't we?" Sollux's expression relaxes slightly and, surprisingly, he speaks to you.

"Yeth, you're the one who'th..." his lisp is nearly overbearing, "rooming with Dave Thtrider."

"Uh, yeah," the way he said it makes you think he wants to say something a bit more... lewd. You shift your weight from foot to foot, adrenaline on high alert and you really just want to get your candy and get back to Dave, "Actually, I think he's waiting for me..."

"Oh!" Feferi exclaims. She turns back to the machine and hastily stuffs a dollar into the slot and pushes a button seemingly at random, "Sorry! I didn't mean to hold you up. You should have just said something!" her peppy attitude would have set you something close to at rest, but the way Sollux continues to look at you puts you right back on edge. Once her treat falls, she snatches it from the compartment and loops her arm with Sollux's and she smiles at you again, "Well, it was nice meeting you, John. I hope we can talk again soon."

"Sure thing, that would be nice," you say to her with a smile, but the subtle glint in Sollux's eye makes you think that you might not make good on that statement.

"Thee you around," Sollux says as he leads Feferi down the hall leading away from your room. You don't move until they are gone, still in a minor state of shock from your first unexpected encounter with people you don't know. You think you did alright.

When you unfreeze, you glide over to the snack machine and choose a Snickers bar, keeping in mind that Dave is probably going to eat the whole thing. You don't really want anything anyway so you just head back to the room, the only sound in the hall coming from behind closed doors.

You make your way back to 412 and you can hear a steady tapping noise coming from behind the door across the hall from yours. You find it out of place in an area full of banging and cursing, but you think nothing of it. You open the door and take your shoes off as you step across the threshold.

"So," you say as you re-enter Dave's bedroom, "I ran into some people who seem to know you." You slide onto the bed and place the candy in between the two of you as he looks up at you from his cell phone, the movie still not completely loaded but is inching toward eighty two percent.

He sets down his phones and asks Who? I just so happen to know a lot of people. The last bit is said with a smile so you know that he's not trying to be too much of a smart ass.

"Uh, Sollux and Feferi? Is that right?" you scrunch your eyebrows together in concentration and he huffs a laugh at your face.

Yes that's right, he signs, And they're nice enough people. I mean, Sollux is a little on the protective side and Feferi will never ever stop with the fish puns, but they're alright. He snatches up the Snickers bar and tears at the wrapping.

"They seemed to know about us," you state, gesturing between the two of you in an obvious attempt to convey your relationship in a single motion. He merely shrugs at you and you give him a pointed look, "Do I get to know how many people are aware of our relationship?" He thinks about it for a second and you just want to smack him for being frustrating then- do something to make up for it... wow you really have no idea what you're doing...

Seven, he states, then adds, No wait, now that I think about it, probably eight. He looks at you plainly with slightly pursed lips. Just my closest friends, Bro and his fiancee and probably a friend's cousin.

You look at him incredulously, but he just stares at you, face unchanging, but you can feel his eyes darting across your face and he tilts his chin slightly downward so you catch him glancing down at your pj bottoms. You laugh lightly at him and playfully shove him before settling your head on his shoulder and mimicking, "Like what you see?" He presses his cheek against the top of your head and you can feel his smile. You know he absolutely has something to rebuke that, a Strider always has a comment ready, but the movie finally manages to load and the pair of you find yourselves in Los Angeles...

You stand in the middle of an eerily familiar alley. You are surrounded by something very close to pitch black so it is difficult to tell exactly, but there is something about this place that makes you uncomfortable. There is a steady dripping sound to your immediate right, you want to know what it is, but it's simply too dark to see anything and you can't go investigate because your feet won't move. You're getting a really bad feeling.

"Oh, Joooohn!" you hear someone call from the darkness in front of you. You can't see anyone specific, but you can see their outline and their shape is definitely female. You recognize their voice, too, but you're not sure from where...

"Will I ever get to see my handy work, Jooohn?" the voice says again and the figure extends a grey-fleshed, clawed hand toward you and you try to flinch away as it strokes your cheek. You whimper as it's fingers make their way down your neck and collarbone, seeming to be exploring, until it reaches where those horrid scars are located. It rests it's hand there, sharp claws poking through your thin sleeping shirt, "Will you let me see?" she pauses for a moment, as though waiting for a response that you know full well you cannot give. Then, suddenly, the claws that had been puncturing your shirt suddenly rip back, taking the fabric with it and when you look down, you see-

Nothing.

Not a single mark.

"Perfect," she purrs into your ear as she draws nearer. You try even harder to get away, you don't want to be here in this frighteningly familiar place, you don't want this alarmingly familiar person to be this close to you. You just want to go back to your dorm with Dave.

The figure places one of her talons a couple inches above your right nipple and slowly drags her finger diagonally. Pain envelops you. It's as though she were using a white hot poker to make the mark and not her finger. It's almost too much when she finally decides she's gone far enough and draws her finger back. Once her hand is gone, you manage to get your eyes to see what she'd done and the petrifyingly familiar mark informs you that there are ten more marks where that one came from.

"Are you having fun, John?" she says again as she makes another mark. You throw your head back and open your mouth to scream for help, but no sound will come, "Because you know what?" another mark, "I am." The next strokes seem to escalate in intensity until you wish you were dead, you wish that those bullies had killed you, you wish that Dave hadn't saved you, but that doesn't mean anything. Only the pain. The pain is the only thing that exists for you right now. You are naive for thinking otherwise.

She finally finishes that eleventh mark and you force yourself to look at the striking red painted across your chest: FAG.

"See? Wasn't that fun?" she places her grey-turned-red hand on your cheek, "Thank you for letting me see my work," she pushes you by your head to the ground. You groan as your right side hits pavement and you can feel dirt wiggle it's way into your wounds. The figure kneels next to you and places what appears to be a card near your head. She then turns and walks back into the shadows with a parting, "Catch ya later, Egbert."

Once you think she's gone, you slowly reach out and grasp the sheet of white paper and open it. Blue words meet your even bluer eyes as you read:

Egbert,

We should do this again sometime

Love, V

Panic grips you as you hurriedly crumple the card and throw it away. You feel as though you'd just grabbed a snake; you shiver.

Drip.

Oh yeah, the dripping noise. You'd nearly forgotten about that.

Drip.

What the hell is it anyway?

Drip. The ground is dry so it can't be rain. Drip.

You realize that splatter from the drips are hitting the back of your head, so you look up at where you think the source of the dripping noise is coming from and you are shocked and horrified beyond your senses at what you see. It's you.

Dull eyes are staring back at you with a sadness you don't want to be reminded of.

As you are hanging from a rope attached to the fire escape.

Slit wrists slowly leaking drops of blood.

Your eyes snap open as you flail your arms protectively around yourself. Your fist connects with something and you hear a grunt from somewhere above you and to your left. You fight more, but gentle hands grasp your upper arms and manage to get you to stop your movement. You finally look up at your attacker and are instantly filled with relief and guilt. A shaded Dave is standing next to your bed and the happiness and comfort that floods you makes you want to... cry.

So you do.

You break down and Dave's arm's are instantly around you, holding you tightly to his chest as you sob your fear away. Once you regain your composure with a few accompanying sniffles, he pulls back and you sigh at the loss before looking up at his hands. I tried to wake you up. Do you want to talk about it? You shrug your shoulders and he sits on the bed next to you and pulls you into a hug. The two of you sit like this for a little while longer, just a little bit more, and you start speaking.

"I had that nightmare again," he leans back away from you again so he can look you in the eye, concern present in every facet of his posture, "Except this time, after she gave me the card," you take his hand in yours and you start fiddling with his strong, calloused fingers, "I saw what the dripping was. It was me," sensing his confusion but still not looking up at him, you continue, "I was... hanging by a rope. The one you f-found me with and my wrists..." your hand twitches upward slightly in reaction to the though and the flesh where your scars are carved is an angry red color. You must have been messing with them in your sleep, "Oh god..." you feel more tears slide down your face and the hand that you were fiddling with cups your cheek and forces you to look at him. His eyes are full of empathetic pain and he wipes the tears from you cheeks. He leans forward and caresses his lips lightly with yours. You feel yourself calming down even more and you are beginning to feel fatigued. You yawn, "What time is it anyway?" he holds up two fingers, "Holy shit, I'm sorry. You didn't have to get up." You can practically hear his eyes roll.

He pulls you to him and you happily rest your head against him. He holds his hands out in front of the two of you Goodnight, Egderp.

You smile and relax into his arms and you think you manage to mumble out, "Goodnight, Dave," before being pulled under once again.

A/N: This thing was so hard to write for some reason.

Anyway! Thanks for reading all! I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible!

-AJ3