No One Really Understands

Real.

Karkat kept telling himself that everything was going to be fine, that everything was going to be ok, but he couldn't shake the persistent sense of dread and imminent doom that plagued him when he got to Dave's house, and that ultimately followed him the entire first week after he woke up.

He had to admit, he was a little surprised and mostly relieved when Dave didn't immediately break up with him on sight. But those happy feeling only lasted until Kankri came to pick him up.

Their reunion was somewhat awkward. When he walked into the living room, Kankri had his back to Karkat as he spoke quietly with Dirk. His hair and clothes were neater than before, but from the portion of his face that Karkat could see, the bags and dark circles were prominent as ever. Kankri didn't notice that Karkat had walked in at first, not until Dirk stopped and nodded in his direction. Kankri cut off mid-sentence and turned around. The two held each other's gaze for several silent seconds before he saw Kankri's face relax in relief.

"Um..." Karkat said awkwardly. "H-hi--"

He was interrupted by Kankri rushing over and hugging him abruptly. Kankri hugged him hard; harder than he'd ever held him before, practically squeezing the life out of him. Karkat tensed. He could feel Kankri trembling slightly against him. The two lingered like that for a moment before Kankri realized what he was doing and stepped away, his cheeks pink.

"I... Um..." He looked down. "S... sorry. I'm just... really glad you're ok."

Karkat nodded, keeping his eyes down. "Yeah. I, um... missed you."

"Me, too."

Karkat picked at his cuticles, acutely aware of the awkward tension between them. "We should... get going. It's pretty late," he mumbled softly.

"Yeah!" Kankri said, too loudly. "Yeah. Um, c'mon." He gestured for his brother to come with him.

The tension remained until they got home, where Karkat truly saw how much of a toll this was all taking on Kankri. The house looked largely the same, but it had a sort of dingy feeling to it now, a worn-out look that was only just noticeable in the slight displacement of furniture, the small collection of dishes in the sink, the pile of mail by the door. The air was slightly stale, like nobody had let anything fresh in for the entire week. On the table sat a small, sparse bouquet of wildflowers, slightly wilted, not enough to notice at first but enough that they gave the room a sort of helpless, desperate feeling. Karkat didn't know why, but it all made him a little uncomfortable, like this was some kind of show of what he'd done. Like he'd caused this himself.

But you did, remember? You tried to off yourse--

"Hey," Kankri said quietly. "I'm going to bed soon, but before I go, I should tell you that the hospital informed me that you would start seeing a therapist soon."

"What?"

"Well, since you... did what you did, the doctors decided it would be best if you went through therapy for a few months to make sure... this doesn't happen again. B-but it's a routine thing, though," Kankri added quickly. "It's what they always do. So you don't... You don't have to feel bad about it or anything. Ok? Just, don't... don't worry about it."

Kankri looked away from his brother and trudged to his room, the stress of everything apparent to Karkat even just in the way he moved. Karkat looked towards his own room, a sudden pang of fear hitting him. He hadn't been in there since the incident.

Go on. What are you waiting for? You're going to have to go in eventually.

Slowly, he forced himself to approach the room. The door had been closed, probably by Kankri. That made sense. Who would want to have to walk past the door where their brother tried to kill himself every day? Heart beating dully in his chest, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, taking in the familiar sight of his room. Everything was the same. Not a single thing was out of place, save for the note. That was missing, as were the blades he'd left out that day. But aside from those, everything else, his computer, his bedsheets, even the mint boxes he'd left on the floor and his desk chair, still askew from the desk, was the same as how he'd left it. Karkat padded over to his bed, careful to step around the matted part of the carpet where he had collapsed, and sat down gently. He ran his hands over the comforter, feeling the familiar fabric beneath his fingers. He'd felt it a thousand times before without thinking twice, but now it felt like heaven. He never thought he'd be able to feel it ever again.