A/N: Boring author's note is boring. Why do I even bother with these things? Anyway, thanks to the three followers I can see, and all the others I can't; you guys are great! And did I see a review there? *Wink* Last chapter's song was Where Is My Mind, by Placebo, but I was listening to the Sucker Punch version.

### ####

"Summer and gold throw their colours at the dark,
A mother tells her son, "Darling look at the sparks."
But you hold my attention without even trying,
A beautiful reflection from firework eyes,"

-Be a very annoyed 'Mr Vantas.'

"Well, Mr Vantas, I've seen you travelling around the hospital with one of our volunteer's boys, and you seem to be taking your disability quite well."

You snort under your breath. What a fucking joke. But the doctor continues on, assumingly from the desk you brushed with your knee as you sat down on the uncomfortably plastic chair. John was waiting outside for you, and you were almost tempted to tell the doctor you wanted the boy in here with you, as a source of comfort. But you weren't a little, pathetic five year old any more; and you could most certainly take care of yourself. Or you'd try anyway; being blind did halt the independence a little more than was necessary.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't return to living alone- you did say you lived alone before the…accident, correct?"

You nod shortly.

"I see. Have you any arrangements for the time being?"

You clear your throat and then speak in short sentences. "Yes. I'm staying with Jane Crocker."

"She's one of the volunteers here, correct? Doesn't she live with Miss Lalonde, one of our respected nurses?"

Respected nurse?! Jesus, what kind of an operation were they running here? You stifled the second derisive snort of the day rising up from your body and nodded once more, deciding it was the best route of answer. You shifted in the seat, trying to lessen some of the moderate discomfort brought forth from a combination of the throne of Satan and the scratchy hospital shirts they seemed to think men enjoyed wearing for some ungodly reason. This was just a damn disgrace. You shifted again, almost saddened that you couldn't visibly roll your eyes at the man. Oh well. Maybe you'd be able to do it anyway? Just…not to the effect you were hoping for.

Oh, why fucking bother.

"Apparently."

"Well, I know Miss Crocker is quite the responsible young woman, so I'm quite reassured you will be fine."

You go back to nodding. When would the man be done with his insistent (and frankly, quite annoying) questions? You were bored, and tired, and completely over it. It was disconcerting, realising you didn't even have a home to return to; what with the police still patrolling around. You weren't going to go home to that. It just wasn't worth the time of day to fuck around with shit like that. They'd apparently deigned you didn't need to be under house arrest, and pretty much just let the doctor record where you were going and stuff. The man would probably send off the report to the cops; but whatever. As long as they didn't come and try to bother you again; who the fuck cared?

"So…how are you faring with your recent disability?"

You heard him shift around and scowled harder, wishing you were able to glare at him. Well, you could always glare in his direction but it wasn't the same, and…truth be told, it was kind of, well, sucky. You nodded again, wondering if your aching neck would snap if you kept up with this bullshit.

"I'm alive," you replied shortly.

"So you are."

There was another short moment of pregnant silence as the doctor seemed to wait for some elaboration from you, and you waited for him to lose interest with his queries and finish up with the interview. There was a creak and footsteps echoed in your ears, vibrations from the man's footsteps reverberating through the floor to your own sneaker-covered feet. A heavy hand landed on your shoulder, making your body flinch. Hard. It's hard to explain what it feels like when this type of thing happens to a blind person, the sensation much like watching a jump scare in a Cryaotic video- except about five times more sudden and more terrifying. It drove in the thought that the unknown is something to be feared, more than anything else.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright, son?"

Son? You let out the breath you'd been holding in a short puff, your chest deflating and the shoulder with the hand on it relaxing slightly.

"I'll be fine. Thanks."

"…Good luck, then, I suppose."

You nodded again.

"Can I go see John now?"

### ####

"…Does this mean we're dating?"

You glanced at him, letting a lazy smile cross your face. The two of you were spread out on the couch at your place, as per usual. It had become a routine; attend school, get bored of it halfway through the day, meet each other at lunch, and go to your place for the rest of the day. Sometimes Karkat would stay for dinner, which usually involved pizza or some other relatively unhealthy substance. However, he'd never actually stay the night. It was a little puzzling; but you weren't going to argue with the boy.

"Depends on you, bro. Do you want to all up and date?"

"Well…kind of."

"Then we can do that shit. Best boyfriend," you added with a tiny smirk at Karkat. Dark red eyes met your own violet and looked away again, and you could see the blush in the dim light of the television. How did he manage to be so delicate, so beautiful? You didn't realise it at first, but that was exactly what he was. Motherfucking incredible. You wrapped an arm around his small frame, drawing him closer so the two of you were touching, and the heat of his body almost burning against the cool of your own skin. You half-expected to be pushed away, what with his normally prickly attitude, but apparently you now got special treatment because he didn't complain, simply cuddling closer to you. He was so soft, so unbelievably soft. It was amazing.

"Hey fuckass…"

"Mm?"

"Can…can you take me home now?"

"Sure thing."

"Thanks."

You kissed the top of his head, feeling the rough dark locks against your lips. It was so amazingly different from his skin and you couldn't stop the deep inhale you took, smelling him. He smelt of something indescribable, a mixture of coffee and something potently sweet. It was almost…intoxicating. You stood, breaking yourself away from the trance, and took his hand instead, revelling in the texture. Everything about this small boy had you completely hypersensitive. He stood with you, and you led him to the front door. It was that moment, your hand in his and reaching for the heavy wood of the door, that it occurred to you that you loved him.

You honest to god motherfucking loved him.

The realisation hit you like a burst of light. It was shocking, and kind of beautiful in it's own way.

Who would've thought, eh?

"Are we just going to stand here all fucking night or are we going to get moving?"

Who knew grumbling could sound so fond?

### ####

-Be Gamzee.

Something woke you up from your nice little dream, you weren't sure what. Something felt different; unsettling, but you had no idea what exactly it was. Did it matter what it was? Was it important?

"Hey, fuckass. Get up and get out of here."

? "…Karbro?"

"Are your ears stuffed with pie again? We all know you do some stupid shit when you're high off your dumb ass, but that was ridiculous, even for you."

One of your eyes, heavy with sleep, cracked open, but you couldn't see the source of the voice. Had you fallen asleep on the couch again? Karkat always hated it when you did that, especially if you'd been partaking in illicit substances the night before. Something about the smell seeping into the fabric and not wanting the cops onto their asses. He was just too uptight sometimes. It'd all be good. You closed your eye again, sinking back into the rough cloth with a faint smile drifting across your face.

"Get the fuck up. The police are outside."

Both eyes opened this time, and you stood up suddenly, wobbling for a second as you regained your balance. Your gaze darted frantically about the room- Karkat's room- as you came to the conclusion the aforementioned boy was, in fact, not here. What the fuck? And what was that about the cops?

"Come on, fuckass! Do you want to be arrested for being at a crime scene?!"

You heard the loud thumps of footsteps outside and glanced at the doorknob. Unlocked. Shit, you only had a few minutes. How the hell were you supposed to get out of here? You'd gotten in through the window in the main room, which meant you were basically screwed beyond recognition because there were policemen out there, and even if they'd looked as bored as all hell, they still had the ability to arrest you. You sent a quick prayer to whatever was out there to give you a motherfuckin' hand here, and a disgruntled voice returned to you, echoing in the panicked rambling of your distressed mind.

"You got in through a fucking window, get out through one. I do happen to like the breeze when I'm sleeping, you dumb fuck. Doesn't your shit brain remember this stuff?"

You turned, quick as a whip now you were in a hurry and were getting some assistance, and saw it. The large window situated just above the bed. You remembered now; Karkat always had to have it open, and when you asked about it he mockingly muttered something about miracles. You'd shrugged and gone with it, but he'd actually lied because he didn't have a choice about whether the window was all up in its open state or not.

He didn't have a key to the window.

So it was always open.

With a small chuckle, you slipped out, back into the night, as you heard the officer that had entered the room tell his senior it was all clear, and that it must have been a rat or something. Karkat hated rats. Like he'd ever let one run around in his own home. It was almost a disgrace to the short, grumpy boy. You shook your head lightly, beginning to walk away. You couldn't come back for a while or you'd raise suspicions, which motherfuckin' sucked.

"Karbro, where are you?"

A wry chuckle hit your ears as you made your way down the street. "Wouldn't you like to know, fuckass."

"You motherfuckin' bet I would."

### ####

-Be Karkat again.

'Oh my gosh, this is going to be fun!"

"Yeah, yeah, Egbert. I get it already."

Jane's laugh echoed around the car. It was weird. Like 'hoo hoo.' Who laughed like that?!

You wondered once again what kind of a batshit insane wreck of a god would make a teenage boy so goddamn girly. John had done nothing but gush about what fun and rainbows and all that shit the two of you were going to have the whole fucking car ride. You were half-tempted to just tell him to shut it, but you really didn't want to have to make other arrangements for living when you were almost at the Egbert household. You could only hope Jane wasn't going to leave you alone with him the whole time you were here.

John was in the front seat with Jane driving, and you were in the back with Lalonde. To be honest, you weren't exactly sure what was going on with that woman; only that she snored like a fucking suffocating pig. John had mentioned she'd been sleeping this morning as well, and didn't seem surprised in the least by the lack of activity she had going on. It was ridiculous. When had she had any time to work with all this sleeping she seemed to be doing? Why was she even working? You suspected it had something to do with Jane, but still…

"Hey, Karkitty, we're here!"

"About time," you grumbled at him as the slamming of the car doors around you echoed in your ears and it was impossible to resist the involuntary flinch that wracked your body. Jesus Christopher kringlefucker you were almost wishing you were deaf as well as blind. At least then you'd just be oblivious. The door beside you opened a bit more gently, but what could you expect from a boy who had some kind of affixation with hammers? That familiar warm hand landed on the sleeve of your sweater and you clicked the seatbelt off yourself, revelling silently in that tiny little piece of independence. Hey, it counted as something.

John held onto your sleeve still as you swung your legs out of the car, feeling them dangle into the warm air of outside. Behind you now, you could hear Jane scolding Roxy gently as she tried to wake up the sleeping woman. Your foot hit the small step on the truck and you used it to steady yourself, your other hand landing on John's firm shoulder as you made the small jump to the ground. Your shoes hit concrete and you stumbled for a moment, caught off guard, before arms steadied you again. The smell hit you first, an aroma of flowers, warmth, and a sharp, acrid scent that reminded you of factories. It smelt so unbelievably real. A rumbling vibration reached your feet and you realised with a start there were cars out on the street. Children were yelling at each other in the background, and you froze.

"You okay, Karkat?"

"Fine," you replied briskly. "Let's get inside the fucking house."

### ####

It was a great big damn fucking effort trying to get you up the stairs and into John's room. After multiple events, which involved both tripping, elbowing aforementioned boy, and walking into walls, you made it. While the house had a guest bedroom, it was on the third floor, and the doctor had wanted a closer monitor for the first couple of days. So, you were stuck with the shitbrain for at least a few days, which almost made you miss your hard, annoying hospital bed. Apparently you'd be sleeping in the same bed, which made you wonder what John would say if you told him you were the biggest homo on the planet and beyond.

You felt a prod on your shoulder as you sat on the bed. The comforter was soft, some kind of fur or something. It was fluffy as all hell, and you loved it already. These kinds of beds were the absolute best.

"What now?" You grumbled in his general direction.

"Wanna listen to some music?"

"Sure. Why the fuck not."

The bed shifted under you as John got up and footsteps receded to the left and you heard the Windows start-up noise. Seriously? Fucking Windows? You let out a long, inward sigh as John began typing away at the computer. He was tapping at that thing way too loud; he needed to be gentler with the damn thing. You'd learnt that one from a long history of experience with broken keyboards and stuck caps locks buttons.

"Got it!" Came John's bubbly voice as a bass beat filled the room.

You sat there for a moment, processing the mix into your brain. You felt your frown deepen even more than usual. This really didn't sound like something Egbert would listen to. In fact, he'd told you himself he liked Imagine Dragons and Of Monsters And Men, so this sort of music was almost shocking to hear. Especially this particular song.

"John…" you started, your suspicion rising higher than a horse on meth.

The boy was oblivious. "Do you like it? You didn't seem fond of the bands I mentioned, so I thought I'd play some of my best bro's remixes for you!"

Wait.

Wait just a cocksucking minute.

"Is this a Dave shithead Strider mix, Egbert?!"

"Yeah! How did you recognise it? He must be more popular than I thought!"

No fucking way.

"No fucking way."

"-But I've been running from the sun,

And if I ever catch the ones who hurt you,

I'm, I'm hoping that God looks away this time,

Why would I let you go?"