Author's Note: A horde of wild Plot appears! (Gore, self harm, attempted suicide — content warning)
So basically, I've been at my parents' house since the twenty-second and I've had dick for internet. Let me just say, fuck that. It got to the point, literally, where I'd attempt to check my email and I'd get this page that said, "ERROR: The requested URL could not be retrieved. The following error was encountered while trying to retrieve the URL: [URL] Connection to [IP] failed. The system returned: (110) Connection timed out. The remote host or network may be down. Please try the request again. Your cache administrator is root." Save Yahoo! Mail, Tumblr, and FF, I could get on about anything else, YouTube included. What the fuck, internet.
Other than that, I've had a lovely time here. I figured out how to hook up my PS3 controller to my laptop so that I can use it with my emulators (WHICH IS FUCKIN' BOSS) and I've been playing Banjo-Kazooie and Banjo-Tooie and Conker's Bad Fur Day (holy fucking shit, those three are the absolute bomb) and Namco Museum and Sonic Adventure and Dead or Alive 2 and Gauntlet Legends and Theme Park and Virtua Fighter and oh man, old video games, do not even get me started. Also, I nicked some alcohol from my dad and let me just say, beer and late night writing is a thing that needs to happen way more often. I'm one of those giggly drunks (beer also may have been a contributing factor to the length of this AN, but hey, y'know, whatev).
AND CHRISTMAS, I MEAN, AMIRITE? So. Presents. Let me see. I got, like, a bajillion different things from the Rooster Teeth Store. Their merch makes me so happy, I don't even have any wall space left for posters and I think my entire wardrobe now is RT shirts and hoodies and I just. Yes. I got the blu-ray RvB box set and the Caboose messenger bag and the Sarge beanie (that I've yet to take off since I unwrapped it). Other than that, I FUCKING GOT A NEW PHONE ASKDJFKSLAJF. Fucking fuck, it's about goddamn time, six fucking months after it broke. Christmas man. I mean, for whatever reason, I didn't feel much of the season spirit this year, but hey, free shit, right? Totally. You guys should totally tell me what you got and/or share your pain if you didn't receive very much. If you didn't, I hereby dedicate this chapter to you.
Also, I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but Eve 6. If you don't love them, I'm sorry, we can't be friends (totally kidding, just fucking talk to me and I'll be your friend). Go listen to all their shit, just YouTube RockDevil and that lovely amazing person has uploaded most of their music and wow just wow. Also my RL friend Kyle (I say friend. I mean person I've been in the same year as since like third grade that I only like this month started talking to outside of a mutual school project or some other bullshit like that) recently released his music and I swear to God I'm gonna start crying because music guys. If you wanna hear his, go to killabytemusic bandcamp com (it might not be on for a few hours, actually, if you're reading this immediately after I've uploaded it). Also you should buy it if you can because so much yes it's beautiful and just *love*. Or donate to me. For. Um. Reasons. Ha. Haha. Heh.
THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH ABOUT ME AND MY LIFE. I hereby apologize for the utter shit you're about to read, Chapter Twenty-Four, loves, enjoy and happy holidays, sweethearts!
"Macy's has great Back-to-School deals in our weeklong sale, come in between August eleventh and seventeenth for those last minute back-to-school sales and receive forty to sixty percent off all items storewide!" The ad played in the background while we sat on the couch. Sollux spared it scarcely a glance before groaning and returning his attention to his phone.
"Euch. Th'chool'th' th'tarting back up th'oon. More fuckin' leth'onth', more th'tupid dumbath' profeth'orth' reiterating shit I've already taught myth'elf, fuck it th'oundth' like dickth' already." It had been two days since our first scene. I was already anticipating another, although as the start of school neared, as I was so unpleasantly reminded, I knew there was something I needed to do first.
"I thought you liked dicks," I interjected snarkily, trying to ignore the feeling of my heart sinking into my stomach.
His cheeks gained the slightest tint of red. "Not the point," he muttered. "Man, I th'o do not wanna go th'chool shopping."
"Dude, the hell do you need to shop for?" I asked, sitting up. "Unless you gained three-hundred pounds, it's not like you need new clothes. And for notes and shit, you have a fucking laptop. You're in what, fucking coding and, I don't know, like, minoring in English or something? Big fucking whoop, again, notes on your computer. Who gives a flying shit?" My tone became rather harsh during the end of my remark.
I payed no mind to his slightly raised eyebrows and instead resumed my favorite position, lying stretched out on the couch with my head in his lap, eyes closed and hands set on my belly. He shrugged and let his hands fall to their usual location, one intertwined with mine and the other buried in my hair. I growled a quick "Hey!" when he lifted his leg to prop it up on the coffee table.
"Th'orry," he muttered back, sounding as though he wished he hadn't interacted with me at all.
I hesitated, on the fence about telling him I wasn't going back to school or not. "Fuck," I whispered. "Sollux?"
A few seconds passed in silence. "Yeah?"
"I don't think I'm going back.""Back where?" he asked cautiously, seemingly afraid he'd set me off if he said the wrong thing. That should be my concern right now, moron, I told him silently.
"Back to college. To DeVry." My eyes were still closed, but I knew he was now knitting his eyebrows together.
"You're not? Why?"
"Because it's a waste," I told him simply, praying he wouldn't ask me to elaborate.
"A wath'te?" Fuck me.
"Yeah. A fuckin' waste."
"Wath'te of what?" Fuck me sideways.
"Money. Time. Effort. Fuckin', what else?"
"What are you talking about, KK?"
"College isn't fucking for me, asshole. I go to college and I get looks from the goddamn professors like, 'Shit, this idiot's back.' I go to some useless fucking school and I get shit grades and I don't learn jack shit and I'm worse than anybody else in the class at everything, and then somebody like fucking you comes along and you're brilliant, you said it your goddamn self, they're just going over shit you've already taught yourself. You come in and you're smart and you know everything and the teachers fawn over you and you ace the classes and you're good at everything and I'm just utter shit at it all.
"You fucking come in, Sollux, and you're good at everything. You're good at college, and video games, and coding, and fucking cooking, and cleaning, and the only goddamn motherfucking thing I'm good at is making you happy, and even then I'm bad at it. So, if it's okay with you, I'm not gonna go back to school this year, because it's a waste of the money you earn, and it's a waste of everybody's time, including my own, and it's a waste of the effort I put out to even try and be as good at shit as you are, even knowing I won't be, and you can come home every day, stressed from the bullshit homework you don't need to be stressed about at all because you know every goddamn thing on it, to a fucking blowjob and maybe a quick fuck, and a lazy, worthless sack of shit who doesn't do shit around the house because when I touch shit, I fuck it up somehow, no matter what, and when you touch shit, it's like Jesus motherfucking Christ himself came down from the heavens and blessed the goddamn thing.
"Fuck college, fuck you for asking, fuck me for sucking at everything, and fuck life for dragging me into this stupid bullshit!" Somewhere in that rant, I'd worked myself up to the point of yelling, having simultaneously risen from the couch and stood with my voice raised and my fists clenched to my undeserving boyfriend. By the time I'd finished, I was already stomping around the couch with furious tears burning underneath my eyelids, slamming the bedroom door behind me.
Collapsing on the bed, I lay and stared silently at the underside of the top bunk, wishing the previous, mostly one-sided conversation had never happened, wishing I was smart enough to make it through college on my own, wishing I had the integrity to keep going. Wishing things were different. Wishing I wasn't such a fuck-up.
Sollux scarcely said another word to me that night. Or the night after. Or the next week of nights. He'd knock on the door each afternoon and tell me when lunch and dinner were ready (more silent affairs, courtesy of my prior explosion), and occasionally breakfast if he knew I was up already, and after that, he'd either return to the living room or go to bed, depending on the time of day. I stayed in the kitchen to wash our dishes, on the first night arguing internally if I should sleep in his bed or not. I decided to go about things normally, and deal with whatever situation arose from it whenever said situation arose. The only thing I did differently was that I began to spend about half an hour in the bathroom before bed, "showering." I thanked my lucky stars each night when I returned that Sollux was curled up closer to the wall before I lay down on the outside side of the mattress.
Pushing my luck after a straight week of being all but ignored, I pressed up against him and found his hand with mine. "Sollux," I mumbled, my quiet voice breaking between syllables. His fingers flinched. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. I feel like a major asshole. I was afraid you'd be mad at me or..." Or that you'd think I'm just as stupid as I think I am. "Something. Yeah. Sorry."
A second passed. And then another. And another. Without warning, Sollux jerked his hand out of mine and scooted more insistently towards the wall. He said harshly, "Goodnight, KK."
I turned over with pursed lips and tightly shut eyes. "Night, Sollux."
It wath' odd enough that I would be able for onth'e to fall ath'leep before KK, and odder th'till that the only reath'on I didn't wath' becauth'e I felt him shake the bed, even if only a little. Immediately, my attention wath' caught and my earth' th'rained to pick up the tinieth't th'ound. I can't th'ay I wath' ekth'pecting that th'ound to come in the form of a whimper. Trying to ignore it, I payed him no mind ath' he climbed out of bed. I ath'umed he wath' going to the bathroom until I heard a rather loud bang from that very room.
I conth'idered going to make sure he wath' okay before remembering, firth'tly, that I wath' pith'ed at him, and realizing, th'econdly, that he probably juth't threw the th'eat down too hard. The bang had a very obviouth'e th'eramic clunk to it. I deth'ided to ignore it and began to relakth' again until I heard glath' shattering. My eyeth' shot open and I inth'tantly rolled out of bed, unfortunately taking the blanket with me and getting th'tuck in it, wath'ting a few th'econdth' I wath' th'uddenly th'ertain were very important. I could almoth't hear KK calling me a moron for having gotten th'tuck.
No — I could hear him yelling "moron." It juth't wath'n't directed at me. Neither wath', "You fucking idiot, look what you've done now, he's gonna kill you, fuck!" The inth'tant I removed the comforter from my ankle, I threw myth'elf towardth' the bathroom door, finding with dith'may that the knob wouldn't turn. Another crash came from the other th'ide, along with a thud ath' th'omething heavy hit the wall. "Fuck, you're so fucking stupid, oh God, oh God, this is what you fucking deserve, asshole!" There wath' clear panic in hith' tone.
"KK!" I shouted, banging on the door with my fith't.
Whatever urgenth'y I felt before wath' multiplied twofold when hith' reply came, tearful and terrified, "Sollux, help."
"KK, I can't, the door'th' locked," I anth'wered back, a particular panic rith'ing in my tone ath' well.
"Fuck, I-I can't unlock it. H-Hold on, let me try." After about thirty agonizing th'econdth' of tiny crieth' and sharp intaketh' of breath and the doorknob knocking looth'ely in the door, he finally unlocked it. I pushed it open and the firth't thing my eyeth' found wath' a long th'mear of blood on the door. Trembling th'o hard I could th'ee my hair shaking in a shard of mirror that remained, I th'ought out KK and found him, whimpering and holding hith' armth' gingerly to hith' cheth't, with hith' head bent down, tearth' th'treaming th'o hard down hith' fath'e I could th'ee each one drip off.
"I fucked up," he th'cream-whith'pered, holding hith' armth' out for me to th'ee; haphazard th'liceth' were th'cattered over them, from juth't above mid-forearm to the ballth' of hith' palmth', bright red blood coating all of it and dripping far more quickly than I wath' even remotely comfortable with from the tipth' of hith' fingerth'. Th'imultaneouth' waveth' of nausea and dizzineth' came over me, and I almoth't loth't my balanth'e when my vision blurred, catching the edge of the counter juth't in time to keep from falling over.
"Fuck." It occurred to me fleetingly that I'd never taken my glath'eth' off before going to bed, but I let the thought th'ink to the bottom of my mind and immediately refocuth'ed on the th'ituation at hand. "Fuck. I, uh — fuck." I wath' reeling, not at all sure what to do. My firth't and moth't clear thought wath' to take him to the hoth'pital, but before I could do that, I had to do th'omething to th'top, or at the very leath't, th'low the bleeding.
The only thing I could do, however, wath' th'tare in horror. It wath'n't long before hith' fear-filled eyeth' met mine, and that finally kicked me into gear. "Fuck, okay," I th'tarted, grabbing hith' upper arm and pulling him toward the th'ink, "what the hell did you do, KK?"
"I didn't mean to, I swear!" hith' defenth'e came, pitch high and th'cratchy in hith' throat and eyeth' turned pleadingly up to me. I turned on the water, finally notith'ing the glath' in the th'ink and immediately turning it back off. I let out a curth'e under my breath, yanking back the shower curtain and turning that fauth'et on inth'tead. "I-I just, I ran into the sink, and the-the soap thing fell and I caught it and threw it back on the sink and it missed and hit the mirror and it just shattered and fell on me, I fucking didn't know it was gonna d-do—" Hith' wordth' caught in a th'ob, the reth't dith'appearing in the th'ame way.
I hadn't th'een the pool of blood on the edge of the counter when I th'et my hand there until I brought up that th'ame hand to run it comfortingly through hith' hair. If he notith'ed I wath' now carding fingerth' th'licked with hith' own blood through hith' dark bedhead, he didn't th'ay anything about it. We th'tood like that until the water ran moth'tly clear, me wanting nothing more than to hold him cloth'e and tell him he'd be okay but too afraid I'd hurt him worth'e to attempt.
I notith'ed KK th'waying before he th'aid anything. Waveringly, he murmured, "Sollux, I'm...," before shock and blood-loth' got the better of him. Carefully locking my armth' around him, I caught him juth't ath' he path'ed out. I th'wore quietly, shutting off the water and half-dragging, half-carrying him to the toilet, th'etting him propped up againth't the tank. Making sure he wouldn't fall over, I left the room and returned with a roll of paper towelth' and my th'ell phone.
I'd made KK give me Robert'th' number after he broke hith' rib, and, even though the threat of Trevor wath' gone now, it wath' comforting to know I could th'till contact him if I needed to. Th'urprith'e, th'urprith'e, gueth' who I needed to call. Th'etting the phone to th'peaker ath' it rang, I th'et about wrapping the paper towelth' around Karkat'th' armth'.
"Sollux?" A groggy voith'e picked up on the other line. "Fuck, it's late. This can't be good."
Well, at leath't he knowth' what'th' up, I thought. "You're right, there, Robert, we have a th'ituation with KK written all over it." I th'ounded far too calm for the reath'on I wath' calling, far too calm for how chaotic my mind wath'.
"What's happened?"
"You th'ee, though I'm sure you already knew thith', KK'th' an idiot. I'm not ekth'actly sure how, but the bathroom mirror broke and the entire thing came down on him, and hith' armth' are pretty fucked up. I'm gonna bring him in, I juth't thought I'd give you a headth' up firth't."
"Solid plan," he replied, yawning. "I appreciate the wake up call, much nicer than a half-dead patient at the door."
I shuddered at the phrath'e "half-dead," though didn't bother bringing it to hith' attention. "Alright, I'll be off th'oon."
"See ya then." With that, the call ended. That wath' rather... macabre. And way too casual for the fact that KK'th' fucking bleeding out, for Chrith't'th' th'ake, fuck, I need to get him to the hoth'pital. Thankfully, I'd been working on autopilot and both hith' armth' were wrapped with a few layerth' of paper towel. Carefully plath'ing them both on hith' th'tomach, I picked him up and carried him to the truck.
My mind wandered ath' I drove, wondering why he bath'ically threw a tantrum or if the cauth'e wath' me or if he had been crying before he got out of bed or if thith' could have been avoided if I'd juth't forgiven him for being th'treth'ed and taking it out on me. I wondered how many more th'carth' there'd be on hith' armth' now and if thoth'e were the only new oneth' that he'd reth'eived th'inth'e Trevor died. I wondered if he ever mith'ed Trevor at all, or if he wished he hadn't died. I wondered if he'd know if he died before I got him to the hoth'pital. I wondered if he'd mith' me if I died. I wondered how much I'd mith' him.
Before I knew I wath' even there, I wath' already parking and Robert wath' at the car and opening KK'th' th'ide. I quickly got out and walked around to him. "Here, I've got him," I th'aid, grunting under my boyfriend'th' weight. Rob held the door open for uth' and I followed him into the ekth'am room, th'etting KK carefully on the table. Rob went about removing the now moth'tly blood-th'oaked towelth' from KK'th' armth' and I th'at on the little th'tool in the corner, not wanting to watch but unable to tear my eyeth' away.
"Holy shit," he muttered. "What'd you say he did again?"
"I'm not ekth'actly sure, but he th'aid that the mirror shattered and fell on him," I returned quietly, lith'tening to KK'th' cracked voith'e rapidly explaining what had happened in my head. I notith'ed th'omething th'ounded off about it, the more I analyzed it. The heth'itation, the unnatural quickneth' — that wath' a lie. He'd lied to me.
Robert froze, frowning, and looked back at me. "Sollux, some of these lacerations are old. And they're all too deep to be accidents." My mind wath' already pieth'ing it together; the abth'olute rage and loathing in hith' tone when he'd called himth'elf a "lazy, worthless sack of shit" over a week ago, hith' belatedly quiet th'cream of "this is what you fucking deserve, asshole!" The loth't, hopeleth' way he cried, "I fucked up." He really hated himth'elf. He really thought he wath' worthleth'. And becauth'e no one elth'e would, he wath' taking it out on himth'elf.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
Words played through my mind. Hazy, foggy words I'd heard a million times before.
"Worthless."
"Stupid."
"Useless."
"Idiot."
"Moron."
The words changed into phrases, sentences, my voice.
"You worthless fucking moron!"
"Why do you even bother?"
"You're nothing but a fucking liability!"
"Nobody wants you around, they're better off without you."
"You should let him move on, let him find someone better than you."
Him? I wondered briefly. Who's— Sollux.
"He obviously doesn't want you anymore, let him go."
"Let him find someone worth his time, worth his fucking breath. Not some stupid, useless piece of shit like you!"
Each sentence, each stressed syllable, was paired with a matching memory, a matching burst of pain. Each with a matching spurt of blood and running water, the same carefully concealed blade in the corner of the medicine cabinet — the now broken medicine cabinet, thanks to the last honest insult. It wasn't as though I could have fucked up any worse. I wondered if my stupidity had killed me. I didn't think it'd actually be that bad, death. I wouldn't have to worry about being a burden to Sollux anymore; I wouldn't be a burden to anyone anymore. I couldn't cause the deaths of people I cared about, or people I didn't. No one could hate me. I couldn't hate me.
Suddenly, I realized I still had a body, and cautiously attempted to move each limb as I regained feeling in it. When I tried to move the fingers on my left hand, I found them trapped by something warm. Another hand, maybe? I peeled open my eyes, and sure enough, someone else's fingers were closed around mine. Trailing my gaze along the arm connected to it, I was soon met with a pair of tired, bloodshot eyes — one red, one blue. Son of a bitch, I thought hopelessly, wincing both at the pain I had only just noticed throbbing dully through my arms and at the situation I'd created.
He's here. Which means — fuck. My internal monologue cut itself off when my memories slowly began to fill themselves in.
A razor blade that had seen the light of day far too often.
The simple pain of regret flowing into the sink.
A mirror more broken than my thoughts.
Throbbing, bleeding knuckles.
"Of course he wouldn't want you, you fucking moron!"
Gruesome, easy cuts.
Flesh separating between the sharp edges of shattered glass.
Blood, everywhere.
"KK!"
Dismay, regret.
"Sollux, help."
Tears.
"I fucked up."
Shit, have I fucked up, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna die from this, aren't I?
"I didn't mean to, I swear!"
Lies.
Deceit.
The world faded to black around mismatched eyes.
For anyone actually curious, Sollux does have a job. I don't mention it, but he works for Rev com, transcribing audio files and other such whatnot. Just thought I'd say something about that. On another note, I hadn't originally intended for this chapter to get so dark, but hey, what'cha gonna do? This isn't the first time Karkat has thought these things about himself, and I did briefly mention it before, but I didn't go in-depth into it. If you didn't get it from the actual chapter, firstly, okay, my bad, poor writing skills, I apologize, and secondly, the full sentences running through KK's mind when he finally comes to are the things he told himself when he first started cutting, throughout the whole week. That's about it, I think.
Wait, I lied, if you weren't aware, a scene is what those in the BDSM community call their sessions, in case anyone was confused about that.
Review, loves!