Karkat walked slowly down the dingy hallway, pulling a cart after him, occasionally glancing at the armor clad troll following close behind him, watching his every move. Karkat stopped the car at each barred prison cell he encountered along the way, sliding a uniform tray of water and stale bread under a slot at the bottom of each door. Some of the inhabitants would ignore him and avoid his eyes. Others would thank him, touch his bandaged hands, even exchange hushed words with him for a few brief moments.

"What did they do to your hands?" They'd ask.

Karkat would only sigh. "Just some hot water. I'll be okay," he'd answer, feeling the impatient gaze of his supervisor bore into his back if he lingered too long. He'd then quickly move on before his keepers decided to find more ways to make his skin blister.

The excuse about the hot water was an understatement, the promise of him being okay, just something he said to stave off their concern for him. The day before he had done one of those stupid things he always ended up doing just because he couldn't live with himself if he ignored someone else's pain. One of the prisoners, wrongfully imprisoned, or so she claimed, had gotten a pretty rough beat down and the guards had done nothing to treat her afterward, so naturally Karkat just had to take pity on her. He'd snuck off, stealing some pain reliving medicine and bandages and giving them to her. He'd been stealthy enough that the prisoner never got caught, but he did get caught for sneaking off, and that hadn't ended well. His supervisor had immediately reported him to the keepers who thought it would be a convenient idea to force his hands and forearms into boiling, scalding dishwater until his skin turned hot pinkish-red, a suiting punishment that could take weeks to heal and would probably leave scars.

He couldn't say he regretted what he did, but he knew he wouldn't be trying anything too risky for awhile, part of the reason being that every time he touched something it burned, and smarted, making tricks and extra work something he couldn't afford, and the other part being that these things required tact. He knew the guards would be breathing down his neck for awhile, making sure he didn't try anything. He'd keep them pleased, pretending he was just as broken and pathetic as they expected him to be, staying on his best behavior until they felt they could become lazy and slowly, without them even noticing, the leash they kept on him would become looser and looser. If anything the guards were gullible, and had little motivation to keep them from slacking off.

He sighed and continued on, coming across the next cell. The prisoner inside had her hands chained above her bowed head, which was covered with messy shoulder length hair and had pointy, conical horns. Those horns reminded him of someone he knew once, but he didn't really want to think about her.

The guard unlocked and opened the cell, allowing him access. She was one of those types, the prisoners who he had to spoon feed because their restraints were only removed when a guard had to a good hold on them. He took a tray and walked into the cell. The prisoner seemed unresponsive as he knelt before her and noticed the blue-green and black of her bruises. A turquoise blood, with horns like that? It had to be a coincidence.

"Soup's on." He said.

The prisoners nose twitched and she looked up. Karkat almost dropped the tray. Her face. . .her eyes. The face was unmistakeable, her eyes unlike anyone else, blind and solid red.

"Terezi?" He said in disbelief.

Terezi looked surprised and sniffed toward him, pulling at her chains and scrunching her nose in surprise. "That smell, it's been so long. . ." She paused, and then nearly shouted. "Karkles?!"

"Shooooosh." Shushed Karkat hurriedly. "Whisper. Please."

Terezi shook her head. "I thought you were dead." She whispered.

"Well I'm not much better." muttered Karkat. He looked over to his supervisor who was beginning to tap his foot. "Listen, I'd love to sit and chat, but I'm here with food so just let me feed you so I can move on."

Terezi looked almost offended. "Karkat! I haven't heard from you in almost a sweep and you're not going to tell me where you've been?"

Karkat sighed. "Terezi, I'd love to, but you smell that other troll out there? Yeah. He's my supervisor. The minute he starts getting impatient, he'll report me for wasting time and keeping him waiting, and I'll spend the next week gagged so I can't spend time talking. My forearms are already blistering. I can't afford that on top of it."

He held his arm in front of her face, which became concerned upon taking a whiff of it.

"Oh." She said. "Sorry. I didn't know. I'll see you again though right. . .well you'll be here again?"

Karkat set about tearing up the hard roll. "Yeah. I make this round twice a day. . .It's good to see you by the way, I just wish it didn't have to be here."

Terezi nodded, letting him feed her, and memorizing his scent before he stood and left.

The supervisor gave Karkat a reproachful glare and some muttered reprimanding for taking so long which Karkat didn't give very much heed to, seeing as he'd heard it a million times, and nodded in response.

A few cells later he came across the troll he had helped the day before. She looked better, but concern crossed her face when she saw his hands and forearms. She opened her mouth to say something, but Karkat ran a finger across his throat to get to her to stop.

"I'm sorry." She mouthed, taking the food.

"Don't worry about it." He mouthed back.

She pulled a small jar of what was left of the medicine he had stolen for her from her smock and discreetly dropped it in his apron pocket.

Karkat nodded appreciatively and again moved on, patting his prize as he went.