Notes from the author: So I've decided to continue with this. You guys have no idea how hard it is not to slip in any Davekat. I've been a little lacking in updating with new stories and chapters lately because this is my senior year and I'm busy with college stuff.

Moirails are more than best friends. They represent stability. They symbolize a calmness that is always consistent in a troll's dynamic life which is usually filled with fickle quadrants.

Karkat and Gamzee had never been the best moirails before The Scratch, but they worked. Karkat could scream out insults at the larger troll to vent his stress and frustration and Gamzee never got angry. Granted he was high as fuck most of the time but it was pretty much an ideal situation, considering nothing Karkat said could actually stick to him. And Karkat didn't usually have to do much for Gamzee, aside from humoring him whenever he murmured a "best friend" or a "motherfuckin miracles, brother".

Slowly, although it was a little selfish to think about, Karkat came to realize that he needed Gamzee just as much as Gamzee needed him,if not more so, even if he wasn't the one turning batshit crazy.

Without his moirail he could feel himself slipping into the depression that usually plagued his race, but no amount of sopor was helpful. The black, murky feeling of loneliness coiled its talons around his heart and every so often his chest clenched with pain.

Gamzee was not around to provide him with a feelings jam, so Karkat had to find a substitute. Lately he had turned to his dreaded memos, engaging in heated verbal battles with future and past selves that usually ended with a pity party on both sides of the time lapse. He was terrible at consoling himself and the memos did more harm than good. They began to make him feel inadequate as a moirail. How could he protect Gamzee's sanity when he could not guard his own?

He locked himself away in his room, rereading romance novels and sitting though his romcoms that did virtually nothing to distract him from his growing instability.

Kanaya took notice and tried to supply him with some relief, "You can always talk to me," she would say. But it felt dirty, like he was cheating on Gamzee. So he politely declined. Besides, Kanaya had Rose to occupy her time now. She needed to focus on her own quadrants.

Even Strider, with his nonchalant façade, attempted to cure the downtrodden Cancer of his worries. But no amount of sparing or oral abuse lifted the darkness that gripped him.

It wasn't until two weeks had gone by that he reached a breaking point.

An anguished, tormented scream.

No.

A cry for help echoed through the hallways and rooms of the meteor.

Rose had been the first to find Karkat, clutching his arms with such ferocity that his claws were digging into his tough skin, drawing blood. His face was tear streaked and his expression was more animalistic than human. He was snarling and thrashing wildly among a pile of pillows and blankets that he had been using as a napping spot for the past month.

Rose had just stood by idly and waited for him to wake up from his cruel nightmare. He trembled in the dark room, silent sobs choking him and burning his throat. She had cautiously approached him from the side, almost like she would a rabid dog that might or might not bite her, and slid a comforting hand smoothly over his back.

"Shoo… It's alright. It will be alright," Karkat didn't know if it was her seer powers or her usual confidence in most subjects that squelched some of his fear.