Author's Note: The grades deal is sorted out, for the most part, but school is the last thing I want to talk about. Ever.

I got caught cutting. The school faculty, my friends, and my family now know, and I've moved back in with my parents. My internet is, once again, utter shit.

My parents were, oddly, not complete assholes about it. For a while, at least. They're still pricks, but they acted more like Karkat's dad than my parents.

Counseling's weird. I'm not sure how to feel about it.

Everything's a lie.

I'm going insane

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

A week later, having been home for four days, it almost felt as though nothing had changed. My dad called me every day, sometimes my mom, but other than that, there wasn't a lot of difference. Robert had prescribed me, oddly enough, anxiety medication, which I suppose made sense in a way, and I was to be going to some bullshit psychiatrist or counselor or something once a week. Sollux, on the other hand, had decided him actually attending college wasn't necessary and somehow managed to transfer to online classes last minute. And that, of course, was nothing new, after a summer of nothing but the two of us lazing around the house. He was on his computer just as often, swore just the same, talked to himself no more than usual — everything I'd come to expect from living with him. It was a bit quieter due to the lack of video games being played at all hours of the day, but other than that, there was scarcely any difference. I, meanwhile, had spent the few days I'd been home searching job ads online and working on some semblance of a resumé.

To be honest, I didn't have much to put on it. I'd dropped out of the college I'd only just gotten high enough marks in high school to qualify for. I'd only gotten in after having been wait-listed for a couple years, which, though I had somehow managed to keep it to myself, was the reason Sollux and I were in the same year. On top of that, I didn't have much else going for me: very little job experience, abusive past, mentally unstable as defined by the cuts on my arms, no motivation, no skills, no anything. My life wasn't worth the effort I put out. But I stuck it through anyway, for Sollux's sake, because for whatever reason, he seemed to want me around. The explanation behind his desire was beyond me, but I had more sense than to question it — for the time being, anyway.

Regardless, life went on. I had filled a help wanted request at a local restaurant, Beverly's Pancake House, and they were doing interviews the next day. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. Job interviews were not things I had experience in. I couldn't even remember how I'd gotten my job at the coffee shop, though I'm pretty sure some strings had been pulled. And now, considering how useless I'd been in past months, remaining jobless wasn't an option. Not when Sollux had less time to work online now. My plan was essentially to attend the interview and pray.

That Friday had come with the surprising news of a job. Since then, time moved relentlessly. Everything seemed stagnant until my shift ended and I was driving home, until the TV was off and my boyfriend's mouth was on my dick. Everything seemed to be instant and infinite in the same moment. Therefore, it was no surprise that Halloween creeped up on me — literally. Three days before, Sollux had leaped out of the closet wearing a rather gruesome-looking mask with smears of red-dyed corn syrup on his arms and an outfit consisting of old clothes he'd torn apart. The noise I made was... well, let's just say Sollux didn't stop laughing for, oh, maybe an hour, and leave it at that. Either way, Halloween was up and coming and Sollux had the whole day off of classes, though for what reason, I couldn't fathom; I would have assumed a high-end college wouldn't give a single shit about holidays like Halloween. Christmas, sure, but Halloween? Rather uncommon, if I thought to give it a second thought.

Which I didn't. I was too busy putting together some way to get back at my asshole boyfriend for scaring the shit out of me. It was far from the first time I'd wondered if I could fit in the cabinets above the sink, though it was the first time I'd actually tried. Worked well enough. After squeezing in there, all it took was some of the same red shit he'd had smeared on my neck and face, plus a random contortion of my limbs to make it look like somebody'd murdered me and jammed my body in the cabinet. I'm pretty sure the noise Sollux made upon finding me was worse than the one I'd made two days prior, and if that didn't perk something up, I didn't know what else would. Though I did feel kinda bad for actually scaring him. Spooking him a bit for a laugh was my intention, I hadn't expected it to look so realistic he'd get sick in the sink. Needless to say, I spent the rest of the day catering to his needs.

Waking the next morning had set the holiday upon us. Cotton-fluff cobwebs were set in the eaves on the porch, a giant hairy spider with eight glowing eyes residing in the largest. Sollux, hunkered down under a tarp, hid behind the brick wall just past the front step, ready to leap out at the slightest provocation. I myself was behind the door, waiting with pearly white skin and blood-dripping cliché fangs to spook whoever was brave enough to make it past the stair troll. It wouldn't really have seemed our scene, to give out candy to kids, but two years prior, Nepeta had dropped by around noonish and demanded to know why we didn't so much as have decorations out. She spent the rest of the day helping us hang stupid paper bats and black, purple, and orange crepe paper. All it took was waking up with fond memories for us to not even have to consider doing it again the next year and just doing it.

Since then, Sollux and I had had our house absolutely decked out for Halloween. Decorations from foundation to roof and everywhere in-between. Then the house lights went out and the porch light went on and Sollux dug out the bags of candy he'd bought and filled up one of those bowls with the motion activated zombie hand in the middle with it, and we both got in place and prepared ourselves to scare the shit out of five year olds. With each scream, something in the back of my mind berated me for being an asshole, but I really didn't give a shit. The night was over in a flash and then the candy was gone and the porch light was off and Sollux was riding my cock like a fucking cowgirl in our bed (and moaning like one, too).

Post-fuck cuddles were taking place when I muttered, "You think we should take off the top bunk?" Sollux shrugged and nuzzled his face into my neck.

"I'unno. Why?"

I shrugged back. "'Cause. It's kinda useless now, plus I get a little weirded out having that thing above me at night. Like, what if it fucking falls or something and kills me? Not to mention," I added, my tone softening in a sinister way as I pulled him closer, "you bump your head on it."

His face reddened slightly. "Fine by me. Th'aturday?" I hmm-ed and let him doze for a bit. It hadn't started happening until recently, or maybe I simply hadn't noticed sooner, but he'd began smiling in his sleep. Not like a constant thing, just a little flash of tightened skin and then it was gone. My heart did some stupid little flip whenever I caught one. Then I started smiling and it became one big fucking gay grinning orgy. I kind of liked it.

That Saturday night was the first time for us sleeping where we could see the ceiling in years.

"Come 'ere, KK." The nerdy-couch-potato-calls-newly-awoken-still-very-tired-asshole-over-as-he-exits-their-bedroom-for-the-first-time-that-day scenario played for the umpteenth time the next morning.

"Nnngh," I replied, rubbing my eyes. "The fuck do you want?"

He snorted, but didn't answer until I reached him. He did me a favor and met me around the back of the couch so I didn't have to walk as far, so I forgave him for bugging me by making some vague attempt at actual consciousness. Of course, the next thing he did caused me to snap awake anyway at the sudden terror pierced my mind at his touch — he'd pulled back my sleeves without a word and gripped one wrist in his hand, scrutinizing the healing cuts under two-tone eyes. I tried to jerk back but he just held on.

"I juth't wanna look," he muttered, running the thumb of the hand on my wrist over the closest one. So I stood there, growing exponentially more uncomfortable as each second passed. Then Sollux was pulling me against his chest and wrapping his arms around me and squeezing until I couldn't breathe, asking in a shaky whisper, "Didn't you have enough th'carth'?" I wasn't sure how to answer that. He kissed the top of my head and held me a bit longer, clearly for his sake rather than mine, before letting me go.

"You want breakfath't?" he questioned, pushing past me into the kitchen.

"Uh. Yeah."

"Okay. I'm in the mood for an omelet."

"Sure." I sat at the kitchen table and watched as he went about gathering supplies. "So. Hey. What was that?"

He sighed, but didn't stop. "I don't know. I wath' juth't thinking and you know where my fucking mind goeth'." His voice was briefly muffled as he dug for eggs in the fridge. "Then I couldn't get the thought out of my head and I had to th'ee them, I had to th'ee where you'd hurt yourth'elf and somehow tell myth'elf that it was actually real and not juth't th'ome shitty nightmare. It wath'... that wath' the beth't proof I had."

"Oh."

"Hm."

"...I'm sorry."

"I know."

The kitchen remained silent, aside from the quiet roar of flame in the stove, until Sollux put a hot omelet on the table in front of me, and then the only noise was the clink of metal on polished ceramic. When I'd finished my meal, I stood up and set my plate in the sink, returning to the bedroom hopefully under the pretense of needing to use the bathroom. Which wasn't entirely a lie. The bathroom was where I was headed, in any case. Then again, so was the razor blade wedged between the corner of the shelf in the trash-bag covered medicine cabinet and the thin, sheet metal back of it.

His words had sent me reeling internally, and I'd sat through breakfast trying my hardest to shrink so far into myself I vanished completely. It hadn't worked, so the next best thing was to get some of the stupid regret out of me and down the drain. The realization that I hadn't turned on the shower or even closed the door before I sliced into my skin sent adrenaline rushing through my veins, numbing the pain and allowing me to cut even deeper. If you hadn't done it in the first place, you wouldn't have upset him, fucking dumbass. Do it again. Punish yourself. You're fucking useless. You better hope he catches you, hope he fucking sees, hope it tears him the fuck apart, because that's the only kind of justification you get for this shit. Watch him hurt. That, and this, that's your punishment. Fucking do it, dickhead.

I held a handful of toilet paper under my wrist as I turned around to lock the door, only to find Sollux in the doorway, staring down at my arm in defeat. My eyes widened. "No, it's not — I-I-I mean, it isn't what... I. I'm sorry," I relented quietly, bowing my head. He said nothing, but crossed the room in two long strides and held me tight again.

As soon as I wished I knew what was going through his mind, he must have read mine. "Don't be th'orry, it'th' not your fault, really, KK, don't — I'm th'orry, I'm — I'm th'orry, I'm th'orry, I didn't mean to, to — I'm th'orry." He didn't even seem to mind the sticky, warm blood I was getting on his shirt. "Juth't — juth't, tell me what I did, okay? Juth't tell me what I did, I won't do it, I'll th'top it, I won't do it if it means you won't do thith'."

I looked up in partial confusion. "You didn't—"

"Yeth', I did. I'm th'o th'orry," he cut me off, adjusting his grip. His voice cracked on the last word and he pressed his lips against the top of my head. "I'm th'orry, KK."

I didn't find my voice until he said th'orry again. "Stop it, okay?" I asked, finally wriggling out of his grip. I felt trapped in his arms, like I couldn't breathe. "You didn't do it, Sollux. It was me, my fault. I did it, so just stop!" I left the bathroom leaving behind a handful of bloodied toilet paper and a crushed-looking boyfriend. How was that for a post-Halloween scare?

I'm okay. I'm okay now. I fixed myself. I just kind of realized, "This is stupid bullshit and I'm done with it," and now I'm not doing it anymore. Turns out, surprise, surprise, it was all in my fucking head anyway, which I think I kind of knew all along. I've been drinking a lot lately, mostly because my relationship with Eric was rather short-lived (drinking now, actually), and I haven't been taking my meds for like a month, which I think I'm okay with, and I'm okay and everything's okay and, aside from the fact that I'm now single, I'm happy. Thing is, though... I'm really gonna fucking miss him. I already miss him. It really sucks when you're not done loving someone who's done loving you. That sounds really poetic to me, but at the same time, I'm drunk and it's probably not half as profound as I think it is.

And two weeks later, I'm kind of over him. All it took was having a casual conversation and $45, which I've noticed is a trend, at least so far as conversation goes, with me and the getting-over process with any of my exes. The money was paying back a loan that gave me an excuse to talk to him, and the peculiar, unexpected turn of the phrase, "Have a great day," left my mind rattled and my conscience clear, somehow. Regardless, I'm still okay, not going back to that shit, everything's okay. I've had Eminem and Rihanna's Monster stuck in my head for like a week, but whatever. Everything's really okay, and not even the kind of okay where you say it's okay even when it isn't. Know what I mean? ;) Review loves, and I'm so sorry for the lateness of this chapter. I was clearly working through some shit, as per usual. Shouldn't happen again, though. Only reason it would is cause I'm a lazy asshole, but what else is new, amiright? XD