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Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you could’ve sworn you flushed every single one of Dave’s blades down the toilet last night while he clutched your hand and mumbled repeated, if somewhat intoxicated, thanks into your shoulder.
Yet here he is on the bathroom floor when you come home, shirtless, his hips bleeding onto the tile. When he sees you he gives a kind of pathetic wave, and you’re snapped back to reality.
"Dave!" you cry, rushing forward. "Oh my god, Dave, what did you do…?"
He closes his eyes and sighs and you don’t understand why he’s so calm until you see the three empty beer bottles next to him, one of them kind of broken and that must be what he used.
"Oh my god, please tell me you did not get alcohol in these?" you ask frantically as you clean up the bottles and dump them in the trash. "Dave!"
"I cleaned it off first," he mumbles. "You mad at me?"
"No I’m not mad, I’m not mad baby, I’m just… Oh god I’m worried." Most of what you just said was a mumbled, incoherent mess, but he nods along like he’s paying attention. You lean in to inspect his hips. Nothing looks too bad, they’re all shallow and short and you start to calm down.
"Hey Karbabe, ‘m really sorry," Dave mumbles.
You tell him it’s fine and pat his head, looking around for a cloth you can use to clean the blood off his hips. You snatch one out of the closet and drench it in warm water, then tentatively press it to his skin.
If Dave had been sober, he would have flinched away and insisted he do it himself. But as it is, he’s slightly tipsy and only makes a face of mild discomfort. “Hurts,” he mumbles after you’ve cleaned away the excess blood and made sure the bleeding has stopped.
"I know," you say softly, looking around for some kind of bandage. You come up with a roll of gauze and make him stand up so you can wrap it all the way around his body several times. He rests his arms over your shoulders while you do this, bowing his head and nuzzling your hair.
"You’re the best, Karkles," he mumbles. “‘M really sorry I did this." He hiccups. "I know I promised you no more."
You shake your head and wrap your arms around him. “It’s okay right now, you just… I’m just… I’m glad you’re not hurt too badly.”
He kisses your hair and you pull back to kiss him on the lips. You don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes away the tear with his hand. He kind of misses and one finger ends up going over your eye, but you smile and he smiles and when you kiss again he holds one of your hands.
"Come on," you say, sniffling and leading him out of the bathroom. "Come on, let’s go lie down." You lead him successfully out to the living room and get him situated on the couch. "Comfortable?"
“‘D be more comfortable with you in my arms, Karbaby,” he says with a smile and yes, he’s drunk, and yes, he just self harmed a day after promising he would begin trying to get better, but fuck he’s cute when he’s like this.
You sit down next to him and lean into his side, and he wraps both arms around you tightly and holds on like you’re all he needs.