Washington boys

Karkat's problem: Blood

WARNING: SELF HARM! FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DO NOT LIKE THIS MAY SKIP IT. ALTHOUGH I DO NOT GO DEEP IN TO IT YOU STILL MAY SKIP. I WILL RECAP WHAT YOU MISS IF YOU DO IN FACT SKIP THIS CHAPTER----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dave's Pov-

        Karkat was sitting on the floor, surrounded in blood. His blood. I looked around the bathroom. It was trashed. I looked as if he was trying to find something hurt himself with. It also looked like he was trying to stand up after hurting himself. The mirror was broken and all the shelves had fallen off the walls. I rushed to his side. "Karkat! What the hell?" He was shaking. "I wanted to go." He whispered. "Go where?" I took the razor blade from his hand. "With mom. She's dead y'know." He chuckled without humor. "I thought I could leave. I thought it would be easy. To just go without saying goodbye. Without regrets or anything like that. When I made the first cut It felt nice. I kept going. Making more. Going deeper. Watching the blood flow out." He whipped his hand through his blood. "But I'm still here. Why?" He looked up at me with tears in his eyes. "Cause someone's looking out for you Karckles." I lifted him up and set him in the bathtub. I pulled of his sweater. I couldn't understand how this kid was wearing a black sweater in the middle of October. It was still at least 65*. I had to wash the blood off of him. He just sat in the tub shaking. "Don't tell Kankri." He whispered. I turned away from the tub to clean up the blood on the floor. "Dave, promise me you won't tell Kankri." I looked at him. "Hmm?" He sighed. "Fucking promise me, Dave. You won't tell Kankri." I nodded. I promise.