3 in the Morning

You look at your mug.
There's nothing left.
You drank everything in the house with caffeine, and not all the alcohol.
Your desperation to stay awake has caused your student, Karkat, to use his ability of sustaining on no sleep for weeks. He's been increasingly worried about you ever since you made the best decision for yourself.
You cut Cronus Ampora out of your life.

It's been a month and a half.
While you're completely used to Cronus being a flirt,a perv, at times an obnoxious bastard, you never expect him to be borderline manipulative. All of Mituna's ramblings. Porrim's complaints. Meenah's violet stained trident every Friday night. It should've been a sign that intervention would never work. You had become what you despised. Everything you hated. It all became about yourself. You selfish fucking brat. You're a culler and you know it. You can't provide for yourself. You rely on others and their suffering to get some sustenance. You babied Cronus Ampora. Fucking Cronus. You, using what confidence you had, got a job. You paid for everything for him. It made you feel independent. A lowblood, fully capable of survival and self care. It made you feel superior, a lowblood taking care of a highblood with only the issue of his behavior. It made you feel important. You knew all along he was no good news. But he made you feel important. You felt like someone in this world needed you. Someone venting to you made you feel strong.
You're not strong.
You know you're not.
You know because your student, your weird paradox little brother, is comforting you as you sob uncontrollably on your kitchen island. He has no clue what your mumblings about use mean, but he tries his best to comfort you. You vent out on how Cronus repeatedly stole uncomfortable kisses, how he always made you wear his clothes, how he would treat you like a pet even though you practically owned him. He would uncomfortably hold you, intentionally print his scent of fish and cologne on you. He'd get ill if you scrubbed off after. Hell, he tried to make you shower with him more than once.
It just made no fucking sense.
He played into every one of your insecurities, stringing tales on how tough you were. He would always say how tall you're getting, how much better your speeches were than the last.
He thought your blood was pretty.
He would always tell you that your bright red hue was gorgeous.
"I'd l9vwe t9 see the c9l9r under th9se leggings. D9ll."
You imitate one particularly stinging note under your breath.
"KANKRI."
"I'M WORRIED FOR YOUR HEALTH. YOU AREN'T SPITEFUL. IT...THIS ISN'T LIKE YOU. TO BE INSENSITIVE."
"...y9u d9n't kn9w me very well, karkat."
"KANKRI. YOU ARE WHINY. WE ALL KNOW YOU, NO OFFENSE. IT'S THAT YOU DON'T MOPE AROUND ALL DAY AND YOU'RE PICKY ABOUT YOUR KITCHEN. EVERYTHING'S A FUCKING MESS. YOU HAVEN'T SLEPT IN A WEEK. GO TO BED. YOU REALLY NEED TO."
You open your mouth to protest, but all that emerges is a squeaking sob. He's right. He's goddamn right. Your junior, being much stronger than you physically, lifts you without inconvenience. You try to insert your opinion, that you can walk alone, but it falls back to silence. For once, Kankri Vantas is silent. Kankri Vantas will give it a rest.

Karkat Vantas has placed his brother in bed. His brother plead no contest to the sentencing. Without another peep, Kankri Vantas drifted into a welcoming, 12 hour, good night's sleep.