All My Fault. : A DaveKat Fanfiction
Quick Note: This takes place a few years after the game ended, on the meteor.
Also, thanks for reading! ~AlchemicLove
I sat against the wall of my bathroom, to stunned to move. I couldn't take his eyes off of the horrified human staring at the disgusting mess that was myself.
"K-Karkat?!" Dave stuttered with more emotion than I had ever heard from him. Not that I heard it all that well. It was distant, and faint. An echo. I guess I knew why Dave sounded so scared. I knew the disgusting mutated slosh, feebly pulsing through my veins was on full display against the white tiles of the floor.
Great. Now you've made yet another person upset.
I cringed away from the voice that I knew came from no one but myself. I knew it was telling the truth. I looked down, staring at the burning crimson lines that ran across my far too skinny body, stretching from exposed rib to exposed rib. My sweater lay on the floor next to me. I stared at the cuts, and then at the razor in my hand, still surprised by how bad what I had done to myself looked. It should have hurt far more than it did, but even this shallow pain was better than nothing. At least it wasn't nothing.
At least now everyone else won't have to deal with your self-pitying bullshit.
I nodded, agreeing weakly with the voice as stared at the cuts once more, and then stared at nothing. Why am I not moving..? I couldn't figure out why I wasn't simply putting bandages over the disgusting marks of self hatred, hiding my grotesque blood, and pretending everything was alright. I was going to make even more people hate me; I was going to drive even more people away with my inability to function like anything close to normal. My vision began to blur. I smiled, a small, bittersweet smile. Maybe this time I wouldn't hurt anyone else.
But I heard another voice, along with the one in my own mind.
"KARKAT?!" It sounded like yelling, but it seemed to echo as if it was far, far away. "SHIT. KARKAT DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING LEAVE ME YOU-"
I woke up feeling like I had been trampled by about twenty-hundred different hoof beasts. I blinked in discomfort at even the dim lighting of the red-walled room. My head hurt. Less so than before, but still not as much as it should have, my stomach burned. I moved my head slightly, and tried miserably to sit up. I failed. I held onto the sheets while I waited for the room to stop being a god damned acrobat. Something was wrong here. I looked down a myself to find that I had my red sweater on, not my usual black one. I noted that I was wearing someone else's boxers as I slowly pieced together the shattered memories, recalling what had happened. I remembered my own candy colored blood on the white tiles of my own bathroom, and the shock of Dave's entrance. I slowly pulled the sweater up, to reveal that my chest had been neatly bandaged. That's what was wrong. I was here, and I didn't want to be.
What happened..? How long had I been unconscious? But where exactly is "here"? I sat up slowly, having already remembered what my stomach looked like last time I saw it. I still cringed, and laid back down. I don't fucking care where I am.. The problem is that i'm here at all.. I suddenly felt tears well in my eyes.
You can't even die correctly. You're such a fuck up that you didn't succeed in taking your own life.
I struggled to contain a sob. I don't want to be here. I'm done. I rolled to my side, ignoring the dull burning on my stomach, and heard something between a feral snarl and a sob escape my throat. I stifled it with one of the red silky pillows. I allowed myself to wallow in my own pity. I hate myself so much. All I do is fuck up, and pity myself. Because of me.. everyone had died. They all knew it was my fault. They all hated me. I sobbed harder, and ended up coughing. I tasted my own disgusting, cherry colored blood. I don't know how long I remained there, sobbing all my self hatred into that appley-smelling pillow until I felt light-headed. And even then I kept going.
I was still at it when I felt strong arms wrap gently around my hips, avoiding my stomach. I gasped and tensed up, which turned out to be a awful idea because my stomach began to burn more than it had previously. I tried to stop the tears rolling down my cheeks out of habit. It was bad enough that I pitied myself so much. I didn't need anyone else to do so as well. Still tense and scared, I turned my head around to see Dave Strider.
"W- What the fuck are you doing.." I had intended to sound indignant. I had intended to seem alright. But the question came out of my mouth hoarse, broken, and quiet.
Dave didn't say anything as he sat up, and pulled me onto his lap slowly. I was far too tired to resist. He had already seen the pathetic red streaming down my face. I looked up at the prick, fully expecting a joke about how much of a shitty person I am, or about how much of a wimp I am. But Dave remained silent, so I decided that was alright. I dried my eyes on the sleeve of the red sweater, no longer bothering to hide the fact that I had been bawling my eyes out. I shifted, slowly, and sat up. I wanted to be alone. I said nothing as I began to slide out of the bed, which I now knew was Dave's. I sat on the edge if the bed, staring at the floor. Guilt settled in as I realized I was about to leave without providing any explanation for my actions, or without giving any thanks for whatever the blonde 16 year-old had done for me. I wasn't grateful. I wasn't happy that he had saved my life. I wasn't happy that I was still here.
"Sorry." I was shocked that those words hadn't come out of my own mouth. They had come out of the human's instead. I stared at Dave, to tired to react with much more than a disbelieving stare.
"For what..? You didn't do anything wrong." My stupid voice. It was still hoarse and weak and I hated it. "I should owe you for saving me." This lie came out less raspy. I cleared my throat, and Dave sighed.
"For saving you, yeah.. Look, I know it was selfish. I know you wanted to die. I didn't have the right to change that decision for you." Dave sounded like he had thought a lot about this. "But I.. I couldn't just let you die." Dave sounded so scared and so guilty.
You're the one that did this to him.
I felt tears well in my crimson eyes yet again.
"It's alright." My acceptance came out as a whisper. Dave removed his glasses to reveal his equally crimson eyes filling with strange clear tears. His response was even quieter than mine had been, as he looked me in the eyes and asked,
"Why..?"
And I broke.
I threw myself back into Dave's arms. "IT'S ALL MY FAULT." I shrieked as I felt Dave pull me carefully into his chest. "EVERYONE'S DEAD AND IT'S ALL MY FUCKING FAULT." Between sobs I screamed at the top of my lungs into Dave's shirt. "I WAS THEIR LEADER. I WAS SUPPOSED TO PROTECT THEM AND LEAD THEM TO VICTORY BUT I FAILED." I dug my claws into Dave's chest, staining it red with more pathetic tears. "ALL I CAN DO IS PITY MY SORRY SELF. I COULDN'T KEEP THEM SAFE AND THEY'RE ALL FUCKING DEAD." My throat was raw and my stomach burned but I couldn't have cared less. "THEY'RE ALL DEAD DAVE. AND I FUCKING KILLED THEM." I sobbed and choked.
And then I screamed. I screamed everything I had left into Dave's chest. All of the hate, and all of the regret until my voice cracked and I couldn't make a sound.
But I still didn't feel any better. The others were all still dead. It was still my fault.
And I still cried. The others were still dead. And it was still, all my fault.
I love all of you so much, Thanks again for reading, i'll be sure to update soon!
~AlchemicLove