The Blood I Spill for You

Playing With Fire Isn't Dangerous When It Comes From Within

   "Useless," he muttered. Karkat let out a yawn, and he yawned in return.

   "Now what?"

Dave shrugged, "I'm not sure, Karkles."

   "You could start by putting the leash on my collar so we don't get arrested." Dave chuckled sadly as the black leash snapped onto the soft collar—one that wouldn't cut Karkat's neck.

   "That's actually not a bad idea. We should head to the station, see if someone can drive us home," Dave said, surprisingly genuine. Karkat agreed that would be the best course of action. Hopping onto Dave's back again, he began the ten minute walk to the closest police station.

   "Hey! Hey you!"

Dave spun around to see a tall, smoking man calling over to him from across the street. Rolling his eyes, Dave continued walking.

   "Hey! That's rude! Hey! Hey, I'm talking to you!" The man jogged across the street, easily catching up to them. He reeked of alcohol and what Karkat easily recognized as heroin, along with sweat and lack of personal hygiene. Karkat's nose wrinkled in disgust.

   "Where are you going?" He asked. Dave didn't answer, just kept walking. He hoped that being ignored would get boring, and they would be left alone. The man push him against a wall, but he held on tightly to Karkat.

   "I'm talking to you. What's your name?" The stranger looked angry now.

   "Gordon."

The man smirked, "Cool, cool. I see you've got yourself a fine piece of troll ass." Karkat bit his lip to stop himself from growling. No need to make him angrier.

  "I'd tap that. Is he for sale?" The man blocked Dave from making his escape. His sword was in his sylladex, but he would have to put Karkat down first to get it. By then it would be obvious what he's doing. They were trapped.

   "No," he gritted through his teeth.

   "D'aww, that's too bad. I guess you're just gonna have to share. You don't mind, right?" Before Dave could react, the stranger pulled out a knife and pointed it at Dave's mouth.

   "Woah man, I don't want any trouble. Just drop him and you can leave." he ordered.

Dave refused, so he punched him in the face, swiping wildly with the blade. The pain in his cheek had his sword in his hand before he knew what had happened. Instincts from his training had made him drop Karkat and step away. He felt like crying.

   "Good boy. Now go stand over there while I take good care of your slut." Karkat's blood boiled. He belonged to Dave, and only to Dave. Shifting his weight, he cried out in pain: his ankle swelled in his shoe, so he kicked it off.

   "You're not going anywhere near him, do you understand me?" Dave said. He ducked forward, but the stranger grabbed Karkat's foot and dragged him closer. He screamed, tears spilling down his cheeks as his ankle twisted even more.

  "Karkat!" Distracted, he rushed to grab him, but slammed back into the wall with a kick to the ribs. Another punch to his head and the whole world spun like a globe. Dave was used to the pain, but froze once Karkat's life was in danger. He bit tears back, tightening his grip on his sword.

  "No..." He panted, gasping for breath as his vision swirled. Dirty shoelaces slammed against his face in a brilliant flash of white, and he fell limp on the sidewalk.

  "Dave!"
  
The man turned, watching Karkat's struggle to crawl away. "Right, where were we?"  He towered above him, and knelt down. Karkat growled, ready for a fight, only to suddenly feel the cold tip of the blade pressed right against his crotch.