His final was terrible. Nothing added up properly, the numbers jumped around on the pages. After skipping to the portions where he had to actually write out the problems, he filled every multiple choice answer as c, then passed out. He was awoken by the proctor, who gave him a slightly disappointed look. Fuck it, it wasn't like he had a good chance of surviving until college, much less living to worry about how he was going to make it into college.
When he left, Ms. Paint was waiting for him in her car. For the next few days, Karkat would be on house arrest, always under watch by an adult (Kankri didn't count). After school was officially over, Slick would move him to a safer area. He wouldn't be allowed on his computer, nor could he contact his friends.
At least, that was what was supposed to happen. Deuce had slipped him a small smartphone, much to the confusion of Karkat. What use would it be? He found out immediately when Sollux and his new bestie, Rose's older, super hacker sister, texted him, telling him that their combined technical knowledge allowed them to make sure he wouldn't be tracked from his phone. They also protected his pesterchum as a further measure, changing the password for him.
Neither him nor Ms. Paint spoke during the ride home. When they got there, he went up to his room and locked himself in, finding a book to read. Everything continued like this for the next two days, which passed with unbearable dullness.
On the fourth and final day, Ms. Paint took multiple wrong turns when driving home. "What's going on?" Karkat asked.
"Someone's following us," she replied, focusing on the rearview mirror. Karkat turned to look out of the back window, and saw a black car following them.
"How are you going to lose them?" Karkat asked.
"If we make it to the busier parts of the city, we could probably do it. Do you have your sickle on you?" Karkat nodded. "Good. If we can't shake them, we might have to fight them."
"They're probably mobsters, right?" Ms. Paint nodded. "They probably have fucking guns! Have you ever heard the phrase, 'Don't bring a knife to a gunfight'? Because it applies to a lot of situations, and bringing a shitty sickle to a gunfight it probably just as stupid and idea!"
"Calm down, you're being very distracting." Karkat shut up, but kept looking out the window. The car still tailed them. Minutes passed, Ms. Paint swerved through busy streets skillfully, and the care behind them still followed.
"Fuck," Ms. Paint muttered.
"Oh no."
"There's another car after us."
"Oh fucking hell no."
"Karkat, I need you to take the wheel."
"While we're driving? Have you lost your fucking marbles?"
"Shut up and take the wheel. I'm gonna climb into the backseat, then you sit in the driver's seat. Got it?"
Karkat nodded and grabbed the wheel at an awkward angle. Ms. Paint was small enough to slip through to the back without much trouble, and Karkat shifted to the seat beside him. It took only a few seconds, but Karkat's heart was already in his throat. Fuck, so many things could've went wrong there. "What are you doing back there?" Karkat asked.
"Looking for something," she replied. She was rummaging under the back seat, and let out a soft cheer when she found whatever she was looking for.
Karkat glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "What the fuck is that?"
She held it up proudly. "My gun." It wasn't anything special, just a crappy pistol from the looks of it. "Turn left here, it'll take you to the slums." Karkat complied, and the two cars followed. "Stop the car. Get into the back and lay on the floor. Keep your sickle out. Don't do anything unless they kill me. And even then, wait for them to come for you, and give them hell."
Karkat did as she told him, and she moved to the front once more. The mobsters following them got out of the cars, two from each. All of them had green face paint on. Two were carapaces, one was a human, and one was a crocodile. Each of them was carrying a gun.
Ms. Paint opened the door and got out. Keeping her gun hidden, she said, "Now why are you boys after me?"
The crocodile growled, and one of the carapaces said, "Give us the kid. We know he's back there."
"I simply don't have any idea who you are referring to."
"Quit the act, lady, or we'll pump you so full of lead you'll… Uh.. It won't be pretty," the human said, trying to look tough. To Karkat, he just looked stupid.
"I'd like to see you try." Karkat swallowed, trying to stay calm. Shit. She was dead. She was so utterly fucking dead, fuck, shit, he wasn't ready to see another dead body because of his dumbass actions.
All of the mobsters raised their guns. Karkat closed his eyes, and four gunshots rang out. The smell of blood wafted into his nostrils, and he started hyperventilating. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He griped his sickle like it was the only thing left, but he wouldn't be able to use it. Shit.
Someone touched his shoulder, gently. He couldn't open his eyes, and a harsh sob racked through his body. Fuck. She was lying there, dead, and one of the mobsters was about to put a bullet through his skull.
"Hey, sweetheart, it's okay." Karkat gasped and opened his eyes. She was alive! Alive and smiling and not hurt and holding a gun at her side. His confusion was blatant, as Ms. Paint said, "What? You think Spades would let me take care of you if I couldn't protect myself?"