A/N; I can't reach my other ongoing documents, so I have to write other stuff while I'm waiting. Hopefully this isn't too bad. Anyway, onwards with the story, I guess. I felt the need to write something, so…yeah. Author's Note is over and stuff. Last chapter's song was 'What Have You Done' by Within Temptation. If you guess the chapter's song before I publish the next chapter with the answer I might give you a one shot. No cheating!

### ####

"She was screaming bloody murder,

And I'll never forget-

The look in her eyes and the taste of her sweat,

Said 'boy you better run away, run away while you can.'"

-Unfortunately for you, you're still Karkat Vantas, and you're still blind.

You weren't any more interested in babysitting the Egbert boy, but apparently he'd taken a liking to you, ignoring your sharp tongue and biting insults. You begrudgingly took his friendship, seen, as it was the only contact from people your own age you actually had. John seemed shocked to learn you were older than him, even if it was only by about half a year. You were now shouldered with this bubbly burden constantly, and John admitted it was because he liked spending time with you. You didn't really understand why. He liked explaining and describing the weather outside to you; and you listened because secretly you felt the need to be able to see something, even if it was through someone else's eyes. John said he wore glasses anyway, and his eyesight wasn't the best.

"Karkitty! Hi!"

"What in the holy fuck is a Karkitty?"

"Well, your name's Karkat, so…"

"Ugh. That is the worst, steaming pile of horseshit nickname I've ever heard!"

"I think it's cute! Anyway, the weather outside's really nice today! The sky looks so blue! It's that colour that's almost too blue, y'know? And there's a heap of clouds! It's all summery and perfect!"

"I fucking hate summer."

"I bet you like the warmth from the sun, though!"

"…"

"I was right, wasn't I? Just like a cat!"

"Fuck off, Egbert."

"But I have good news!"

"Oh god. Tell me it's that you're going away for a long time. Preferably forever."

"Nanna asked the people at the hospital, and they said I could 'escort' you outside!"

You pause in your wallowing of self-pity at having to deal with the younger man and your head shoots up, staring in John's direction with what you hope is a disbelieving stare. Your eyes are apparently faded now- which is nice because now you don't have to hide the vibrant red colour of them. John says they look grey to him from a distance, and you can only see the candy red close-up, which is fine by you. You've always hated the mutated colour of your eyes, and it seems like the only good thing that's actually managed to happen from your sudden blindness. Hooray, you think dryly from the confines of your mind.

"…Karkat, you're looking at the wall again."

"Fuck where I'm looking! Are you serious?"

"Um…yes…did you not want to?"

You stand up, shooting a glare up at the damn idiot. A growl made its' way out of your throat, a warning noise, and John laughed. He still sounded like a little child; and it was slightly disorientating. You scowl even more, still hoping one day you'd be able to scare him off. He doesn't react with any sound, so you assume he's just brushed it off like usual. A hand lands on your arm and you jump about half a mile, your previous anger swept away by a cold shiver of fear. You had become quite the scaredy-cat –probably due to the fact you couldn't see what was happening- but John picked up on it somehow, running the hand up to your shoulder to keep the contact. You allowed it, secretly craving some kind of warmth from someone else's body. Of course you weren't lonely, what kind of a fucking joke is that? You take in a deep breath to steel yourself for what was to come, and try to meet wherever the hell John's eyes were.

"That's the ceiling."

"Fuck the ceiling! Let's go."

"Okay!"

His hands wrapped around your left arm eagerly, and your nose twitches slightly. He turns you in the direction of where the door is and you pause. Can you really do this? Can you really go out there without your sight? You frown slightly, and John's grip tightens. You can feel his warm body against your side, and wonder if that heat is a family trait or if you're just a cold bastard like you think you are. You can smell a faint hint of his deodorant, and luckily it was a decent brand and not something overwhelming and disgusting like most guys these days wore.

Hell.

You're gonna go outside if it kills you.

"Let's go, Egbert."

### ####

-Be the crazy guy again.

Where were you?

What was going on?

Where was he?

You sat up, not even realising you'd fallen to the ground somewhere along the line, and tried to look around. However, due to the sheer amount of illicit materials you'd consumed, everything around you was a whirling mess of bright lights, much like a carnival. You let out a chuckle; the sound distorting even as it hit your damaged ears and sounding more like a wounded cry. You barely register the sound in your mind before it is swept away again by a torrent of nothingness and you find yourself on the floor again, face pressed into the carpet and getting your smeared white face paint on the beige cloth. You hope it stains, just like the blood soaking into the floorboards a mere few feet away. The air is filled with smoke and death, and the acrid scent of burning flesh.

It occurs to you that you should probably get out of this house before it burns to the ground and you manage to somehow make it onto your unsteady feet. The flames crackle, and you can feel the heat from it on your back. You feel a faint temptation to simply lay back and let the flames consume you completely, leaving nothing at all. Maybe then you'd be free from the bonds that weighed you down in this forsaken planet.

You don't have time for this.

Somehow, as if in a dream, you make your way down the creaking stairs and out into the air. It's fresher; although it has a chemical smell the city tends to have, mixed in with the smell of garbage. You make your way down the street, one hand in a pocket to run a few fingers over the unmarred bag of goods. The packaging wasn't even damaged a little bit, although the contents were depleted from when you had received it. You could probably still use it, though. All you really needed was some paper and a lighter, and not even that if you used what was left of your tiny brain.

Police sirens break you from your train of thought, and you look up as one white, beaten-up car drives past you with sirens flashing. You feel a hint of annoyance, but you're far enough from the house that you should be able to still make an escape with time to spare. You pick up the pace a little, from a stumble to an odd sort of wonky trot. Anyone that saw you right now would know you were completely and totally baked, but honestly you didn't care what they thought. As long as you could escape you'd be fine.

You just had to live long enough to-

To what?

An unsettled feeling sunk into your stomach as you tried to think about what your trail of thought had led to. Honestly, you didn't know any more. But something felt wrong. Horribly wrong. You felt your slow grin fade a little, which worried you. What exactly was it you had forgotten, exactly? Questions arose in your hazy mind, questions you didn't really want the answers to. You looked up at the sky, not really absorbing what it looked like, but needing somewhere to space off and ask the questions you wanted to.

What was it?

…Who was it?

…Did it matter that much?

You stop at a street, looking down the well-lit area. You'd accidentally made your way over here again, when you'd told yourself you weren't going to. Clearly you were so good at lying you could even pull off one to yourself. It is both pathetic and impressive simultaneously, and you shrug, lifting your shoulders lightly. At least you hadn't actually gone back, right? What was wrong was just beyond your reach, so you decided to push it away for now in order to concentrate on leaving this place. Leaving it to find another place to be. You could return now, but something told you the thing you wanted wasn't there just yet. You have to bide your time.

You turn away from the street, and make your way to a different part of the city. You had plenty of time to go after some more people, and get 'your motherfuckin' party on,' as you'd so eloquently put it last time around. People were just so gullible these days it was ridiculously easy to do things you were told you couldn't get away with.

You were invincible, basically.

Or maybe just better than everyone else.

### ####

-Be Karkat.

"So, Karkat, where do you wanna go?"

You could hear the brightness in John's voice, and wondered how he could be so perky all the time. It was horrible. You sigh, shifting your feet on the cold floor. You'd requested to leave your shoes off, as you normally do now, because your feet could find things your poor sight could not. You had at least gotten around to dressing yourself, although John informed you of your habit of putting on your shirt backwards or something to that effect. Therefore, John had declared he would be your dressing assistant, and while you would never let him touch you in any way, you appreciated the jeans and shirts he brought in and his not-so-helpful commentary about your body. You felt humiliated when he sat in the room when you took your shirt (you would never take off your pants in front of him) off, but John didn't particularly seem to care about your scrawny body. For someone who acted so gay, you were a little surprised.

"Outside."

The answer you gave was abrupt, because you knew exactly where you wanted to go. You yearned for the sunlight like a nun yearned for a church, or some shit like that. Point was, you really wanted to be outside. You didn't really know how long you'd been stuck in this damn hospital, but it had been far too long, and you'd had enough of it. Your major injuries had healed mostly, and while you still had a few cracked ribs they were working on.

"Sure thing! The hospital has a really nice garden, too!"

John's hand was soft but still firm, directing you around obstacles in your way whilst explaining what they looked like. But he never once let go of you in your journey, not even to ask for directions to the entrance to the garden. He got you lost at one point; and you were taken to the reception, your face draining blood as a small trail of apprehension slid down your spine. You could hear footsteps echoing all around you, unknown, frightening, and you shrunk away from it all, your fingers gripping the edge of John's hoodie in a death grip. It was truly and certainly terrifying, having absolutely no idea what was going on around you except for people yelling and sirens wailing and pure unadulterated chaos that was the world.

A hand brushed the top of your head, gently caressing your messy locks, effectively halting your inward freak-out. You still, raising your head, feeling a questioning expression cross your face. The hand shifts down to the side of your face, cupping it. You register the hand as warm and soft and it occurs to you that this must be John's hand. Well, his other hand. The first one, his right, was still wrapped around your left arm, anchoring you there.

"Hey," a soft voice said. "It's okay, I've got you."

And amazingly, just like that, all your worry dissipates. You'd never admit to it, of course, but it settled your churning stomach just knowing that he was there for you, and that he'd be looking after you. It was something that left you fighting emotions you didn't reveal to anyone, ever.

"Let's just go outside already, fuckass," you grumble back at him, not revealing an inch of your gratitude.

"Yes sir!"

You are turned around in nearly a full circle, making you lose what tiny sense of direction you had left. The corners of your mouth tug down more and you hit John's arm, although not very hard, judging by his amused reaction and the laugh that reaches your ears. What a dickhead he was at times. Pompous asshole.

You were paused a few more times, stopping when John did, mostly so the younger boy could check out the handy maps littered around the corridors of the hospital. Finally he tapped the side of your face lightly, earning himself a flinch as you glare in his direction. He giggled at your reaction- honestly, why did he sound like a child when he did that? - And did it again.

"You're looking past my ear, Karkat."

You bat his hand away, your scowl growing deeper as you shift on your feet, feeling like a kid waiting for ice cream. This was taking far too long. It had taken freaking four pages to get here! You hit him in the chest lightly for good measure, not missing your target and letting a pleased air surround you as John coughed. When you felt him straighten his back you became annoyed again, but only until he started to speak again.

"We're here. I just need to swipe Roxy's key card and we can get in, okay?"

You nod tightly and get the feeling John's beaming at you. You can't see it with your eyes, but somehow the effect a smile gives off still managed to reach you. A beep makes you lift your head to the direction it'd came from, and John's hand tightens on your thin, bony arm slightly. Your ears pick up the sound of something scraping, and you realise it must be the door to the hospital garden. A sparkling anticipation grips you as you take in a deep breath, tasting the warm air. It was sweet, but not an artificial kind, more like the fresh scent of flowers and rain.

"Is it raining?"

John seems a little puzzled when he deems to reply to your question, although you knew it was raining…or was going to, anyway. "No…but there's a bunch of grey clouds over there. It might start raining while we're out here!"

"I can't see where you're pointing, you dipshit." You resist the temptation to hit the dim-witted boy again. And again. Maybe a bit of brain damage would do him some good.

"Uh…left! Yeah, left!"

Aha, so that had been rain you'd smelt. You hope you don't end up turning into some kind of blind bloodhound. That'd be fucking weird as hell. You don't bother turning your head left, because knowing you; you'd probably end up looking right or something. Your directions hadn't been the best before the accident and this hadn't made it any better than it had been. Instead, you blink in the direction of John and take a tentative step forward. John lets go of the grip on your arm and you suddenly feel unsteady, but you're determined to do this. You needed to do this.

"Describe it, fuckass."

"You don't have to be so mean, y'know!"

"…"

"It's just plain and grassy where you're standing, and it's like that for a big rectangle around you. It's so green! It reminds me of my cousin's eyes, y'know? Jade has these big, bright green eyes, and they're so pretty!"

"…"

"Ah! Um, there's a stone path about ten feet away, straight ahead. It looks really rocky, though, and I don't want you to fall over! But right next to the path there's a pretty old bench. It's nice!"

Good enough. That would be your new goal, then. You take a tentative step forward, not taking your bare foot from the soft texture of the grass. Once you're feeling settled on your feet again, you take another small step. To tell the truth, you hadn't even attempted going anywhere by yourself, not even to the bathroom.

Another step.

One more.

"How far away from it am I?"

"…It's to the left of you, about five steps away."

You take the next step more confidently, a wave of determination crashing over you. You could do this. You were a strong-willed (some called it stubborn, but that was bullshit) individual and you weren't going to let a little thing like the loss of one of your senses stop you from living your life, dammit. You took another step.

Three…

Two….

One…

"Fuck!"

"Oh my god, Karkat, are you okay?! I didn't expect you to trip over the seat like that!"

You sit up, brushing the dirt and grit away from your mouth. Defeat was bitter, but you hadn't lost yet. The battle had only just begun. All you had to do was get up and try again, and if you failed, to try another time. You couldn't be brought down by something as small and insignificant as this. All you had to do was stand up, and grasp your independence by the throat.

"Want a hand, Karkitty?"

"Get over here and help me, fuckass."

…Maybe later.

"Cause you can't control yourself,

So whoa-oa,

This is where you go-oh-oh,

Cause you find me bound and chained in another's arms."