I'm back! But too lazy to write… so here, have a lazy chapter!

"Well, how has he been, Rose?" Jade anxiously twirled the phone cord around her index finger. "He didn't seem like he wanted to talk to me… He's never usually that blunt about it though."

"He was the same with me, Jade," Rose replied. "He was really quite brash and irritated."

Jade sighed, "I see. What could make him act so weird, though? He's been doing okay so far, why the change in personality? Is something going on that he hasn't told me about?"

Rose stroked her chin, "Hm. If only I knew. I'm as confused as you."

"How about these ones, Dave?" Jade held up a pair of shades in front of her face. "They're pretty cute."

"I don't do cute, Jade," Dave chuckled. "I'm more of the cool type. Those shades are cool, if you're a little boy, but I need something a little more… epic."

Jade put them back in their place and giggled. "You are so picky sometimes."

Dave sighed, rolling over in his bed. It was Saturday. Ever since his bro died, he'd always hated weekends. They gave him too much time to think, especially about every single terrible thing that had happened to him throughout his lifespan.

Often times he would actually sit there and think about how much better off he'd be dead. Of course, he could never bring himself to do it. Dave Strider may have pretended to be cool, but he was really weak. Rose always said people that commit suicide were weak, but Dave really pegged them as strong. To be able to really kill yourself—dive into a world of unknown—you really had to have balls to do that.

He wondered if any of the kids at Skaia had ever tried to kill themselves. Maybe it was the boy in the wheelchair. Maybe that's how he became paralyzed. Or… maybe it was John. Maybe that weak little boy had that much guts.

He really didn't want to invade John's privacy and ask him about such a thing, but the curiosity of why he was in that hospital was eating away at him. He'd never planned to bond with the boy. He just wanted to get in and out as fast as he could without any hassle, but that plan hadn't really worked. Something about John Egbert had drawn him in, but what, exactly, was it?

He jumped off his bed and sighed, running a tired hand through his blond locks. He squinted in the morning light, quickly putting his shades on. He'd worn them so much that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

"Dave, get down here… You're… hic…" His mom yelled up the stairs, groggily waving a hand around, "Hurry up!"

"Drunk already?" Dave frowned. He knew it was mostly his fault, but he didn't know what else he could do. He was a time bomb, set to go off at nearly everything.

He pulled open his dresser drawer and grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Rose told him he ought to dress up a bit, to make himself presentable, but to be honest, he didn't give a shit. He didn't care much about anything anymore.

"Dave… c'mon, boy…!" His mom yelled up again. If she was planning on driving him in this state, she had another thing coming. He rushed downstairs to face his red-cheeked mother. "Iss… 'bout time, there…"

"How much have you been drinking?" Dave looked to her hand, which was holding a wine glass that she was drinking from as they spoke.

"Ssh, just a bit. C'mon, lemme drive you," she said.

"Hell no," Dave said. He knew he was far from the perfect child, but he most certainly wasn't going to get his mother killed. "I'll take the bus, okay? Just go rest."

"I'll accompany you along the way," Rose came from in the kitchen. She looked like she hadn't slept at all last night.

"It's fine, you don't have to," Dave said, opening the front door.

"I want to." She grabbed her coat from on the railing and walked out the front door without another word. Dave knew she only got like this when there was something on her mind. She wanted to talk to him.

"This can't be good…" Dave sighed and shut the door behind them.