No One Really Understands

Together.

Despite everything else, it was having to spend the three days that Karkat was kept for observation alone that was the hardest. It was having to wait for it combined with how excited I was that made it so hard. Dirk had to be at work late on all three days, so he left me at home with money and myself.

"You sure you're gonna be alright by yourself?" he asked on the morning of the third day. He was late and was rushing to get his things together.

"I'm pretty sure," I said as he darted past, searching for his keys. "I mean, I was fine Thursday and Friday."

Dirk stopped in front of me, his eyes darting around the kitchen. "True. You were. And you-- oh, there." Dirk picked up his keys and shoved them in his pocket then turned back to me. "Yeah. You're, what, 15? You're old enough to be on your own for a couple hours. Right? Yeah. Yeah, you can call if you need anything, and if you need food or anything you can walk, right?" I just nodded in agreement with everything he said.

Dirk exhaled and looked towards the door. "Ok." He glanced down at his watch, winced, and looked back at me. "Right. Ok. So. Don't die. Don't set the house on fire. Don't do anything illegal." He started walking backwards towards the door. "Don't let anyone steal our stuff, don't let anyone touch my stuff, and just... relax or something. Ok?" He put his hand on the door. "Ok. Bye." And with that he left.

The house felt weird and empty with just me, and I was starting to get tired of staying inside all day, so I grabbed my house key and pocketed the money and left.

I didn't know or care where I went, so I just chose a direction and started walking. The air was clean and crisp and cool, and the change in atmosphere felt good. I slipped in my earbuds and set my phone to shuffle. This was nice. Eventually, I got to an area of town that looked familiar, and when I looked up I saw I'd wandered all the way to the park on the edge of town, a good mile or two away from my house. I debated whether or not to go inside or keep walking, but then I spotted a familiar figure sitting on a bench a couple hundred yards away. A tiny spark of annoyance kicked up in my chest, but I went in anyway. Can't ignore it forever.

He didn't move or speak when I sat down next to him: he merely adjusted his glasses and took a short drag from the cigarette between his fingers.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him, still looking straight ahead.

John shrugged. "I dunno. I got bored with school. Decided to leave. Happened to end up here. What about you?"

"I was on a walk and then I saw you from the street." I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. "Since when do you smoke?"

"Since a couple months ago. Not all the time, though. Only when I'm stressed or whatever." He took another drag and exhaled heavily, the wind whipping the smoke away into the air. "But I mean, it's not like it matters to you anymore."

"What if someone sees you?"

"Then they see me. I don't care." He cut his eyes towards me and muttered, "It's not like I've some kind of reputation to protect or anything."

Anger burned in my throat. I knew what he was talking about, but I didn't say anything.

"How are you and your freaky little skitzo of a boyfriend anyway? Has he tried to slit his wrists with your kitchen knives yet?" John said with a slight smirk.

I had to swallow the urge to strangle him. "No. He's... actually in the hospital right now."

John quirked an eyebrow. "Is he now? You can't be too surprised, though, right? I mean, surely this can't be the first time he's--"

"He was in a coma for a week," I interrupted softly.

"He was? Really." He sat back and smirked. "Only a week?"