You watch carefully as Karkat presses the tip of the blade into his skin and slowly drags it down to his elbow, a steady flow of crimson leaking out of the wound. You're about to do the same when he stops you. "Don't press too hard. You're not ready for the grave yet."
A frown contorts on your lips as you ask, "Why? What if I am?"
Karkat smiles meekly and replies, "Give it time. You may be ready to be six feet under, but I'm not nearly as ready to see you get there. Start small."
With a sigh, you mirror his movements, athough your hand is far shakier. The metal carefully glides over your skin before the stinging sets in and you're forced to stop, quickly dropping the blade onto the desk. Slowly but surely, the blood begins to drip down your arm, filling you with a sense of pride and relief. You glance up at the monitor to see Karkat nodding approvingly, though he seems distracted; his eyes study the cut on your arm carefully. "Karkat?" You finally ask, the worry beginning to sink in.
He blinks a few times before he finally meets your gaze again. "Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. Good. That's good."
"I want to do more," you decide, picking the razor up once more.
His eyes flicker with something that closely resembles fear before they return to their previous indifferent state. "Only a few. Again, we have to start small."
You nod and create another cut, your hand gradually steadying as you progress. You repeat the action, once, twice, thrice until five prominent lines are etched into your skin, blood beading and bubbling at the surface. As you watch the sticky ruby liquid collect, you think back to Karkat's odd behavior. After a moment of watching the blood, which is now turning rusty, you dab it clean with a tissue and ask without looking up, "Is something wrong?"
"It's..." He trails off a moment before sighing and forcing a small, sad chuckle. "It's complicated..."
Now you pause, looking up at him with a questioning expression on your face. "How so?"
His finger taps idly on his desk as his teeth absentmindedly nibble at his lower lip. "I'm not sure how to explain it..."
"I have all the time in the world," you respond as you clean off the remaining blood.
Karkat purses his lips before pressing them into a thin line, his eyebrows stitching together as he thinks it over for a moment. He then finally says, "I want to save you."
You can't help but scoff at that. "Save me? From what?"
"Everything," he mutters, his voice soft yet deathly serious. "From your brother. From the pain. From yourself. I'm ashamed that I'm telling you to hurt yourself. I'm ashamed that I'm your mentor who's filling your head with lies. I tell you that it's hopeless. That the way to get through this life is to either control everyone through fear or to end it. A mentor is supposed to be supportive, and I'm not being supportive.
The thing is, Dave, that you're a good person. You have a lot of potential. I don't want to see you squander it. I ruined myself and, at this point, I can't be saved. You can. You can go on to do incredible things while I sit here and rot. I feel as though that's how it's meant to be." He then looks away and murmurs, "It might be best for you to go..."
"Never," you tell him simply.
Karkat frowns and returns his gaze to you. "What do you mean, 'Never'?" He asks.
"You need me just as much as I need you. I'm not going to just leave you. In fact, I'm not leaving this room until we both get better," you decide with finality.
"But I'm not going to get better..." He counters.
"Then I guess I'm not leaving, now am I?" You smile softly.
A grin slowly spreads over his face, a weak chuckle escaping his lips. "You're really a piece of work..."
"So are you, but in the best possible way." You place your hand on the screen, Karkat's hand reflecting your own. It almost seems as though you can feel him through the computer.
"Won't your brother be upset once he finds out you aren't going to school? He might hurt you..." Karkat speaks up, his voice laced with concern.
"That's a problem for another day," you reassure him, though the thought even worries you.
He seems to catch this because he comments, "A day that might be tomorrow. You need to go to school. I don't want you to get hurt because of me."
"It's a risk I'm willing to take. If it'll make you feel better, I'll wait until he leaves town this weekend. He'll be gone for a week or two at some convention. He's always going somewhere and leaving me alone."
Though he still seems suspicious, he reluctantly nods and sits back in his chair. "I guess that's okay... But, once he gets back, you need to go back to school."
You sigh. "I'll think about it."
Karkat shakes his head. "No, you'll do it. If you don't go to school after he gets back, I won't talk to you anymore."
"I said we'll talk about it later," you repeat.
He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Are you always this complicated?"
You flash him a grin and shrug. "Don't act like you'd have me any other way."
The elder lets out a snigger. "Whatever you have to tell yourself. Why don't you go get a shower? You have dried blood all down your arm. You need to clean those anyway so they don't get infected. Eat some dinner and get some rest. You've had a long day. I'll be here if you need me."
You nod, though you aren't eager to hang up. "Alright. I'll talk to you later then."
With a small smile and a half wave, he offers you a "Goodbye" as he ends the call, leaving you all alone again. You're not sure how long it takes for you to stand and gather a bundle of clothes to change into. You're also not sure how long you stand under the scalding water of the shower, the heat searing the fresh and tender injuries of your arm. It's long enough for the heat to turn your skin red and blotchy, which contrasts significantly with your pale complexion. You force yourself to shut the water off and step out of the shower into the steam of the bathroom, then drying your hair quickly and wrapping the towel around your waist. You pick up your clothes and bundle them tightly in your arms once more as you exit the bathroom and make your way back to your room.
Upon arrival, you deposit the armload of pajamas onto your bed and lock your bedroom door. You're just in time, too. The front door opens as your lock clicks. Your brother is undoubtedly home now, and you're ecstatic that you won't have a confrontation with him tonight.
You take your time drying off and changing into the clean clothes you'd snagged from your drawers. Once you're dressed, you run a comb through your hair as your stomach growls. Damn. You knew you should've eaten beforehand. Now you'll have to snack on the junk food you keep stored in your closet until Bro falls asleep.
Grumbling in annoyance, you pad quietly over to your closet, wheeling your desk chair behind you. You open the door and carefully step up onto the chair, making sure your balance is steady before reaching up and grabbing a box of Cheez-It's. You could really go for a burger or some pizza at the moment, but for now this will do.
You crawl into bed and silently open the box, pulling out the bag and cutting it open with a pair of scissors. Fishing out a handful, you stuff them into your mouth and quietly munch on them as you grab your phone and open John's contact. You decide to message him and apologize for your behavior.

You: hey. look... im really sorry for how things went today. i wanna talk to you about it at some point if thats okay? just hmu soon? it would be a huge weight off my shoulders. night john.

You're about to toss your phone aside when you decide to send Karkat a goodnight message. You open up your video chat and send him a quick text as well.

You: hey karks. just wanted to say gnight. thanks for everything today. honestly. youre a great influence on me so dont ever think otherwise. sweet dreams. love you.

Before you can catch your mistake, you press send. "Shit!" You hiss under your breath. You attempt to delete it, but he's already seen it. He begins to type, but you don't dare wait for his response. Rather, you turn off your phone and plug it in. Suddenly, you've lost your appetite. You shove the bag of Cheez-It's back in the box and return it to the closet, wheeling the chair back to your desk and turning off the lights before flopping onto your bed. Burying your face into your pillow, you fall into a restless sleep, repeating over and over in your head that you fucked up again. Big time.