Sonofafuckingcocksniffingmotherfucker.

I tense up as I feel the grip on my shoulders tighten slightly. His gravelly voice grinds into my ears, making my blood run cold. I stand silent for a few moments before being able to finally choke out a legit sounding answer.

"Just a friend, we have to work on a project for school," I rasp, trying to clear my voice without being too obvious. I can feel him breathing down my neck, meaning that he's leaning down level with me. I refuse to turn or otherwise acknowledge him, other than the uncontrollable tensing of my muscles.

"A project? On the first day?" he questions, sarcasm dripping from his tone. I try not to shudder at the horrible feeling of knowing he's right behind me, and that I can't move, much less do anything. It's totally dark outside, the lights in the lobby are low, and the building is about to go into unofficial lock down, which means there wouldn't be many people running the halls.

"Yes," Is all I reply. I press the heels of my palms into my pockets, then silently curse the fact that I left my phone to charge, I should have grabbed it...then done what?

"So what are you and your boy toy doing for this project?" He continues, steadily tightening his grip. I can feel his fingers beginning to form bruises along my collar bone; I still have no idea how he's this strong. His other hand is now inching toward my right wrist, and I try to keep it out of reach. Of course, he's still able to grab it.

"We only met today I barely know a thing about him, and we are performing for our Arts class," I growl, putting emphasis on certain words as I continue to keep my other arm out of reach. A tiny voice at the back of my mind is protesting the things I say, but it takes little to shut it up. As long as I have my right arm, I have a slim chance of at least getting away.

"Mhm, interesting, so he doesn't know anything about you?" He presses, finally able to grab my other wrist. I curse myself, mentally of course, and try to keep calm. If I can catch him off guard, then I can get away... maybe.

"No, like I said, we only met today," I reply, trying to totally relax and lull him into a sense that I'm giving up.

"So he didn't happen to see this?" He asks, moving his hand up my arm and pressing on the bruised skin. Although, by now I think the bone itself is bruised by how much pain it's putting my through. But I grit my teeth, fighting to keep almost limp, and shake my head no.

"Good," I hear him grumble, and his grip seems to go lax for a few seconds. Never one to waste an opportunity, no matter how slim, I twist expertly out of his shoulder hold, swiftly pulling back my arm to elbow him hard in the face. I can feel the bone in his nose give slightly, before he releases me.

Knowing then that I'm completely FUCKED, I turn and run out of the fancy glass doors.

I don't have my phone, and no one knows where I am, plus I'm running from my psychotic dad who is determined to kill me.

I ca hear his heavy footsteps behind me, and for once I'm glad I know the layout of the property so well. I run in front of the building, then swing a hard right, sprinting for the alleyway between this building and our neighboring one. There's enough debris to slow him down, but I'd be nimble enough to leap over the heaping piles and duck under overhangings.

I made one, fatal mistake though.

It's trash day.

The one day where the city decides to get it's shit together and clean up alleys in the area, and it was just my luck that today is the fucking day they did. I skid into the alley and had already prepared for jumping over the old overturned shopping cart full of broken appliances, but instead of landing on a pile of newspaper and cardboard boxes, my sneakered feet meet cold, hard, concrete.

I hiss as I lose my footing, attempting to regain my balance. And naturally, my dad is able to catch up to me with that small slip-up. I feel his meaty fingers slide through my hair, before getting a good handhold and pushing me down, effectively slamming head downward onto the asphalt.

I grunt, fighting back any screeches or screams. I hear a crunch before dull pain floods through my face, and blood starts flowing down it. The crimson liquid pours out of my broken nose like a faucet as Silas pulls me back up again, then repeats the action once more. I feel scratches gouging into my forehead and cheeks.

"Hm, you see punk, there are consequences to ACTIONS!" He growls, shouting the last word. He takes ahold of my wrist and twists it sharply to the side. Not enough to break it, but enough to pop it out of the socket. I let out a poorly muted scream, shuddering at the feeling. He releases me, letting me fall limp to the ground.

I barely stop my head from hitting the hard ground, which would've resulting in me being knocked out. But it came at the price of my elbow, which is now bleeding heavily, and numb from pain. I pant a few times, trying to get the energy to move, but my vision is blurring slightly from the pain. As if it isn't hard enough seeing him in the dim light of the alleyway.

He smirks at me in my helplessness, then takes a few steps. I try to prop my self up on my left arm, my better arm, but he takes that as a sign to act, and kicks me hard in the chest. I feel all the air rush out of me as I'm knocked through the air, and hit the other building. I begin coughing and wheezing, trying to force any sort of air back into my lungs. The whole front of my chest aches and I can barely keep my eyes focused on his blurry form. Silas laughs lowly; I'm barely able to detect it in my state of pain, but he pulls me up again, this time by my bloodied shirtfront.

He doesn't say anything, just grins that cruel grin as he reachs up and punches me right across the old bruise. He releases his grip just enough for me to fly back into the brick wall. As I slide down however, now wishing for unconsciousness, he picks me up again.

"You can stay here, and rot for all I care," he breathes in my face, promptly dropping me again. Now with no strength to support me, I thud back to the ground, my head making harsh contact. White flashes across my vision before fading totally to black.

:Third Person Omniscient POV:

Silas gives one last kick to Karkats unconscious body before laughing cruelly and walking back out of the alley. The boy is in deep enough that he can't be seen from the streets, and there isn't anyone around anyway. The boys' father continues inside the building, not bothering to conceal the blood on his hands and clothes from beating the boy almost to a pulp.

When he enters their "home" his wife Layla is standing at the doorway, a mixture of horror and anger on her face.

"Where's Karkat?"

Silas pays no mind to her and continues into the kitchen, going to the sink to was the blood off of his hands, but she follows him .

"Tell me where Karkat is, Silas!" Layla snaps.

Silas growls lowly before spinning around and slapping her full across her face. Because his hands are still wet from the water, the sound echoes throughout the room.

"He's walking his friend home you FUCKING ANNOYING BITCH! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" He shouts, storming past her. The force of the slap leaves her reeling, and she struggles to stay upright before turning slowly, seeing Nepeta staring sadly at her from the doorway. Silas had completely passed her, not even noticing or yelling at her.

"He's lying," she states sadly, hugging a horse plush that Equius had given her. Layla bites her lip, but nods, before finally stooping down and pulling Nepeta into a hug. The cat girl fights back tears and hugs back.

"Sweetie, you know we can't do anything though," Layla whispers, kissing Nepeta's head. Nepeta nods into her shirt and the two of them sit there, crying, with no one who could help them.

:Sollux POV:

Almost three-fourths of the way home, I suddenly realize two things, that I had left both my favorite jacket and my homework in Karkats room.

With a spew of curses, I look at my phone, in all technicality, I have 5 minutes before curfew is up. As my last resort, I open up my contacts and text my dad.

From: Sollux
To: Dad

damniit dad iim 2orry but ii left my jacket and homework at my friiend2 hou2e, ii have two go back and get iit but iit mean2 iill bee home late, dont freak out alriight?
Love you

(I'm hoping the 'love you' will make him less mad at me.)

I stand there staring at the word "friend" for a few moments before deciding to just send it. No harm in saying that anyway. A response text comes back almost immediately and I'm almost shocked by what he says.

From: Dad
To: Sollux

Alright kiddo, just don't get kidnapped or some shit, call me and I'll come get you if need be.

After a few moments of contemplation, I decide against calling him and double back, sprinting towards Karkats apartment building. It's rather creepy running in this sort of town, especially with all of the silence, and the lack of people. I listen to the pounding of my heart and feet, keeping a good rhythm as I get closer and closer to his home. The streetlights began getting dimmer and dimmer the closer I get, which sort of creeps me out even more.

A strange sort of foreboding feeling comes over me as I get to the building, almost like an inkling of fear. I feel my heart rate speed up as I slide to a stop in front of the glass doors and my hand is hovering over the handle before I freeze, looking over to my right. Almost as if possessed, I lower my hand and turn totally, the feeling was now identifiable in my mind.

The feeling, it's of soul-wrenching fear and there's someone nearby.

It's the feeling of utter doom to say the least.

And it freaks me out, because the last time I'd felt like this was when my brother had his freakout.

I've learned to trust my inner feelings, even miniscule ones. Actually, it was a feeling that made me ask Karkat if I could practice with him tonight, because to be completely truthful, I'm not busy at all for the next week. The feeling told me to, actually it more like forced me to ask him. The memory of flash of fear in his eyes as he thinks it over then agrees pops into my mind as I take another step back.

I take a few steps forward, then a few more. The feeling is getting stronger the closer I moved towards the side of the building. I stop in front of a dark and empty alleyway, contemplating whether or not I should actually enter, but the feeling is much stronger here, I can barely think with the force of it. So with a quick decision, I brush away all thoughts of caution and move forward.

I can't see anything, but despite that fact, I can feel that someone is definitely here.

I debate whether to ask if anyone is there, but then decide against it, I don't want to scare whoever it is off. I instead flip open my phone, setting the light to the brightest setting and proceed slower than I had in the beginning. I can hear the sound of dripping, but that isn't logical at all, it hasn't rained for days and the drainage pipes for everything are tucked away. It could always be a leak, but something makes me stop as I'm out of sight of the street.

I shine the light at my feet and freeze, all the blood rushing from my head when I see it isn't water, it's too dark, too red. Now on full alert I swing the phone light to my left side, and freeze again. It looks like a bundle of clothing, but I recognize the striped black and grey shirt. The source of the blood puddle was from him-

I run forward and kneel beside him, almost dropping my phone. I carefully turn him over to face me, because he was formerly face down on the pavement. I feel like I have been punched by how the air rushes out of my lungs.

"Kk...Karkat?!" I whisper yell, horror dripping from my voice. He doesn't respond, just continues to lay there limply, his mouth slack. The blood on his face is beginning to dry, and I can tell his nose is broken. There's a gashes on his forehead as well, along with a darker bruise on his cheek. I let my gaze travel downwards, shifting to hold his head in my lap. His wrist is at a weird angle, and I have to put a hand over my mouth to keep from being sick, goddamn it looks bad.

I didn't want to move him to much, but he has to be taken care of.

I pull out my phone, barely even hesitating.

"Dad, please, I need you to come get us, I have no idea what to do." I whisper.

My dad books it over, he must've broke speed limits because the house is nearly 20 minutes away, and he gets there in a bit before 10 minutes. I tell him to park a few blocks away though so he won't draw attention.

When he arrives, I barely say a word, I just shine the light of my phone on Karkat's face. I watch my dad pale before walking over.

"Do you want me to carry him, or do you want to do it?" He asks breathlessly, processing the scene quickly.

"I will, but dad...I'm not sure what I'm going to do about this after he wakes up," I whisper, gesturing to the building. Deithelm shakes his head and motions for me to follow.

"We will deal with it when we have to deal with it, but your friend obviou'thly need'th help, and hospitals can go screw themselves. Come on."

I nod and lift Karkat from the ground. I can feel some blood soaking into my sleeve, but I ignore it as I do my best to prevent moving his arm too much or dad had only parked a block away, which is quite convenient. I climb into the backseat and lay Karkat down, keeping his head on my lap like I did in the alley. His breathing seems sort of raspy, and that makes me frown, but I barely have time to think as my dad takes off without warning. I clench my teeth at the whiplash and jerk my head forward, rubbing at my neck before looking down at Karkat again.

I slowly begin brushing my fingers through his unruly hair, feeling the mixture of soft silk and dried blood. I continue to do it no matter how much I disgust myself at the moment.

A thought darts into my head and I scramble for my phone, maneuvering it out of my pocket while still keeping ahold of Karkat. I flip it and check to see if Karkat has his phone, which he doesn't.

I dial his number and sit back in the seat, methodically petting his hair while watching the few cars on the road zoom by. The lights captivate me for a moment before I hear a soft click, and the faint sound of breathing, although it's slightly hitched, like the person is crying.

"K-karkitty isn't h-here right now," a soft voice tries to say, but it comes out more broken than anything.

"Nepeta? That'th you right?" I ask softly, thinking of how upset she must be.

"Purrhaps...is this Sollux?" She asks, slipping into a cat pun . I begin to feel sad just by listening to her sniffles, so I force myself yo sound a bit happier.

"Nepeta, don't worry alright? I found Karkat, me and my dad are taking him home to take care of him, there'th nothing to worry about." I can feel my dads eyes on me, but I ignore him and listen to Nepeta silence herself, then her voice is happier as well.

"R-really?..." her voice goes quiet and I can hear the sound of the phone shifting through hands. A women's voice talks now, and I assume that it's Karkat's mom.

"Take care of him, Ok? Im so sorry...but I'm going to try to fix things, but can he stay at your place...until then?" She sounds so uncertain, And I smle as if oto reassure her, although I realize how ridiculous the action is as she can't see me.

"Of cour'th'e Mr'th. Vanta'th, call me when you want to check up on him," I say softly, looking down at Karkat. No matter how gently I pet his hair, he still seems to be in pain, and that's whats worrying me so badly. He has to be pretty badly hurt if he's not peaceful when unconscious. Wow, who am I kidding, he has every reason to be tense.

"Ok, thank you, goodbye Sollux," She says quickly, then clicks off the phone. I frown before putting it back into my pocket. Without looking up, I begin to explain to my dad.

"That wa'th his mom, I have no idea what their life is like, but apparently he need'th to th'tay with u'th until everything i'th th'orted out," I say softly. I can tell we're getting closer to home, but that makes me all the more anxious.

"Alright then,we're here," my dad replies, practically skidding to a stop in front of the house. He opens the door for me, and I slide out, carrying Karkat bridal style once again. He stirs slightly when I do this, and I hope to whatever God is out there that he doesn't wake up. But all he does is moan lowly and lean into me a bit more. I can faintly feel a blush on my cheeks, but I will it down as my dad opens the front door.

I can tell my brother is already holed up in his room for the night, because the hallway light is off, but I'm glad for that...he can be a nuisance sometimes.

I walk into our poorly furnished living room and put him the only comfortable place, the couch. I hear my dad head to the bathroom and begin rifling through things, but I return my worried gaze to Karkat. He's completely limp now, and his face is really pale, paler than it should be I think. I hesitantly look at his wrist again, flinching when I see it's still the same, although I don't know why I expected it to miraculously get better.

All the blood is dried on his face and hair though, which I find quite unnerving. I wander how long he had lain there, unconscious in the alleyway. I'm glad when my dad returns, holding a damp towel. He shoves it towards me, then kneels beside me. I begin wiping the blood off of him while my dad sets to work on his wrist. Subconsciously I thank my dad for taking those medical classes before taking the Technology classes so many years ago. He was able to pop the wrist into place with a sickening pop/crunch sound, then begins splinting and setting it.

Karkat twitches his eyelids when this happens, but he makes no other movements, so I continue. He even had blood coating his eyelashes. When I finish wiping away all of the blood, I realize how bad he must've been hit. The gashes on his forehead, one of them above his eyebrow, is a deep, and the bruise on his cheek is now almost black, and it's swollen the slightest bit. His nose is probably the worst, it's black and purple, standing out against his pale face, and it has been almost flattened. Plus, his lip is split in multiple places, which is causing a bit of fresh blood to drip down his chin.

"Dad, fix hi'th no'th'e before you do anything el'th'e," I say anxiously, glancing over at him. He had already finished patching up Karkat's wrist, and had started to work on his elbow, which is still bleeding slightly. I see him glance toward me and I move to the side to let him get a full view. He frowns and nods.

"Go get me some more cotton circles will ya?" He asks/orders. I sort of willingly jump up and run down the hall toward the bathroom. I can hear Mituna in his room playing some sort of video game, but I ignore him and grab the cotton thingies that dad wanted. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and pause.

I looked scared, really, really scared. My glasses block only half my emotions, but the half that I can see spelled out fear. Shaking my head, I run back out to see that my dad has basically fixed Karkat's face. I have no idea what he did or how he did it, but it doesn't look flat anymore, which I'm glad. But the bruising still looks pretty nasty. I wordlessly hand over the cotton circles, sort of turning away so I wouldn't have to see the bone being properly set or anything.

When he was done, he returns to Karkat's elbow, but I frown slightly. His right arm...earlier today... I see that his right arm is the one that his wrist has been dislocated. Nonetheless, I pull back the sleeve and look at his forearm. I hiss lowly when I see that there's a dark purple bruise running along the bone. It's no wonder he had been biting back a scream when I grabbed his arm at lunch today.

My dad turns to me again, done with the elbow.

"Dammit, ok, we need to th'ee if hi'th rib'th are bruised, I'm not liking how he'th breathing," He says quickly motioning towards Karkat's chest. I nod and move aside, letting him do the undressing.

We both sit there and stare for a moment because of the various bruises and scars littering his torso. I find that I'm holding my breath as my eyes skim over the harshly made marks. I suddenly think of how strange this is, I mean, I only met this guy today, and yet I'm acting like we had been friends forever. Which somehow it feels as if we have been.

My eyes look past his thin frame to the dark bruises over his ribs. No wonder he's breathing weird, they look like they hurt. And not only that, but there's a mark directly in the center of his chest that looks like it had been made by a shoe. And assuming from the bruising around it, I bet it was.

Whoever the hell did this is making my blood boil.

Why would someone hurt a kid like Karkat? From assumption it's happened before as well, from looking at the scars and even the bruise on his arm. I snap back to reality when I watch my dad run his hand over the bruises. His somber expression deepens.

"There's nothing I can really do for bruises, it seems that he was either kicked a lot or he landed against a lot of things. Although this," he points to the bruise in the center of Karkats chest, "was made by a shoe. So someone most likely kicked him while he was down." I growl some unpleasant things under my breath, mostly what I would do to the guy who did this. After cursing the worls for a few minutes I turn to my dad.

"Th'o, how about letting u'th th'tay home from th'chool," I say, in a completely serious tone. My dad snorts, turning back to me.

"Do you think I would let Mituna take care of him?"

I crack a smile and laugh, rubbing a hand through my hair, then look back down at Karkat. He seems to be sleeping rather than being unconscious, which makes me feel minutely better.

"I'll go get a fresh shirt for him, I don't think he should wear that bloody thing," My dad says, standing up. I j nod and watch him walk away. I pull out my phone and glance at the time, seeing that only a few hours had passed. It was only 10:18, and I had called his mom around 8:18. I sigh and sit back, watching him breathe for a few moments. My dad comes back with shirt and gets it onto the small boy somehow. It's one of Mituna's old long sleeved t-shirts, so it 's s bit baggy on him.

"I'll let him sleep in my room," I say simply, scooping him off the couch. My dad nods in agreement and begins to gather up the first aid shit he used. I quickly escape to my bedroom, trying not to hurt Karkat anymore than he already was.

My room is dark, and I almost fall over a computer monitor the moment I open the door, but I catch myself with only a few curses. I turn on the light and stumble over to my bed, placing him gently on the bee sheets. I huff out a breath in relief when he seems to sink into the old mattress, sighing slightly. I stared at him for a few more seconds before pulling the comforter up over his shoulders, and sitting down on the floor, leaning back against the bed.

My fingers lace themselves into my hair and I pull slightly, ignoring the dull pain.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

After wallowing in self pity for about an hour, I finally look up, blurry eyes barely making out that it's almost 1 a.m. I'm not terribly tired, so I heave myself to my feet, popping my back and arms before stepping around my various computer projects and sitting down in front of my, only intact, computer. The monitor is black, and I curse when I saw I have it turned off. I'm too impatient to wait for it to re-boot. A headache is starting to pound at the front of my head and I massage my temples in a futile attempt to appease it.

I look over at my bed, seeing that Karkat is basically in the same position that I had left him. My sleep deprived mind makes me look at the floor, then contemplate the couch. With a sigh, I walk over to my twin sized bed and stand over it, looking at Karkat's small frame, and how much room he's taking up.

With an exasperated groan I take off my shoes and socks, slip out of my shirt, and scoot him over. I'm glad when he doesn't acknowledge me, only rolling over a bit more with a small growl; I practically collapse beside him. With one arm over my eyes, I drift easily off to sleep.