Self-loathing and cold-weather.(Human!KARKAT X SUICIDAL!READER )

The past is only just as painful as the present.

   "Mommy!" You squealed.

At a young age you still understood the concept of sickness. Not completely, of course, but you still had a good grasp on the idea.

You imagined being sick was the equivalent to having a "boo-boo" on the inside. This was not the best description, but it still served as a simplifier to things.

And even at a young age you still knew your mother would have never made it. Of course you hoped and believed with all your heart she would. But in the end, you've always had that deep dark feeling inside that just..knew her death was inevitable.

"Hi honey!" Your mothers voice was weak and raspy. You trotted beside her hospital bed and showed her a picture of you and her.

It was a sloppily drawn picture of her holding your hand. But she cherished it like it was a miracle of life.

After your mother's and father's divorce, your mother had started getting terribly sick.

One night it got so bad she had passed out from puking on the bathroom floor. She decided to see a hospital.

Turns out she had cancer.

She was treated and hospitalized for it and soon it faded away and was presumed gone.

But it always came back.

This was the cycle. She'd get medical help and it was thought gone, but it came back. Now this part didn't make you sad. What made you sad was that your father, now an unemployed alcoholic, never had the guts to face her while she slowly died. He was a coward and you were so disappointed in him that it hurt.

She died when you were twelve. You were sharing gossip about your new school-mates and friends (as you always do on these visits) when she gasped and grabbed your hand.

"M-Mom..?" You stuttered.

"(Y/N).... D-Don't ever.....hold on to    t-the.... past..." She whispered quietly, she smiled softly and then  fell silent. She had fallen asleep.

She died the next day. Tuesday, January 23rd, 9:00 am.

You felt empty when you were at the funeral. You mourned her death for years.

When your father got re-married, it didn't help. Your father got very depressed and soon he turned to drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

He was soon fired from his job and your step-mother had to overwork to provide for the family.

You went to school, got decent grades and usually stayed out of trouble when you could.

But you would never forget. Never forget your mother's last words she ever spoke to you.

"Don't ever hold on to the past.."

ー－ーー－ーーー－ーーー

You awoke to find Karkat shaking your shoulder, an annoyed expression on his face.

"(Y/n).....," He said "(y/n).......(Y/N)!"

You jerked foreword, causing your foreheads to collide.

"OW!!HOLY SHIT, WHATS WRONG WITH YOU FUCKASS!" He screamed rubbing his forehead.

"Ow....er.....sorry.." You whimpered back, mirroring him.

"Hey, I'm gonna clean your scraps and bandage your other injuries." Karkat stated, motioning to medical supplies on the coffee table.

You propped your leg on the the table, allowing him to inspect it.

"What were you dreaming about?" Karakat asked, looking up from cleaning your scraped leg.

"N-Nothing...why do you ask?" You stared at your leg, showing no expression on your face.

"You were jostling around a lot repeating something... Couldn't quite tell what.... But it didn't seem like nothing." He eyed you suspiciously.

You looked away. You did not feel like sharing your past to a someone you just met. Or anyone for that matter.

It was silent for awhile. He continued cleaning your other leg. He had gotten to the particularly bad scratch on your calf. As he cleaned, pain shot through your leg. It stung so bad.

Your leg twitched but you bit your lip, holding back a whimper. You'd hope Karkat wouldn't notice. But he did and his grey eyes widened in surprise. Also worry.

He was worried for you.

"Oh, fuck! Am I hurting you?" He looked up.

You nodded slightly and he stopped, putting a band-aid on the scratch. You sighed and he sat next to you on the couch.

"Why did you help me?" You asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Why did you help me?" You said more intensely, turning to him.

It took awhile for him to process what you asked him. He looked so confused.

"Usually nobody pays attention to me, because if they do then Kristina usually makes their life a living hell like mine. So why you? You seem like the crabbiest person in the world. Why would you help a pathetic person like me?" You rambled nervously. You glanced at him and he stare at you taken aback.

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"Bullshit," he repeated, giving you a death glare " I refuse to believe that nobody has helped you because in my opinion it's bullshit. Why wouldn't I help you? What kind of person looks at a hurt person on the ground and doesn't help?"

You stared at him, your eyes wide. Nobody has ever shown you any empathy or kindness ever.

Your eyes begin to tear up and this surprised Karkat. Tears roll down your face and you truly felt pathetic.

Your self-hating was interrupted by arms wrapping around you. You were surprised and stiffened at his touch. But he soon started to pet your head and you relaxed. Sobbing into his shoulder he whispered reassuring things in your ear.

You soon could not handle the physical contact, you stopped crying and he pulled away.

"I'm...sorry.." You muttered.

"Don't be sorry, fucktard, it's not your fault. " Karkat stated bluntly.

You smiled shyly and look at your hands. You had no idea how to react to his kindness. You were flustered but at the same time suspicious.

"I have a proposition."

You looked up, brushing you (h/c) bangs out of your hair.

" I'll be your friend and I'll protect you from Kristina, you could even meet my asshole friends." Karkat  grumbled, his face turning a light shade of pink.

"I'd like that." You smiled, wiping your eyes.

Yes this was the story of how you met your best friend.

Karkat Vantas.