((Sorry for not updating for a bit, i was on vacation. This story is now also on Ao3! /works/492301/chapters/860346 go look! :) ))

Your name is JOHN EGB- No. Fuck that shit. Who are you even pretending to talk to? Everyone here knows your name. But nevertheless you're confused as all hell.

After the incident you called the nurse. You informed her that he had woken up, and then slipped under again. She replaced the ice pack on his head and sat in the other chair. You needed to think. You rose from the chair, stretching the stiffness in your joints. The nurse just looked at you with a less-than enthusiastic look and you left. You decided to wander the halls.

You consider that it could have been a joke kiss, but he didn't seem in the mood to joke at all. Or to talk, for that matter. What else could it be? The medicine wouldn't have made him that loopy… He seemed fine.

So... It was a serious kiss. You remember the exact way it felt and find yourself gently touching your lip. A nurse gives you an odd look and you whip your hand away, hunching your shoulders against her piercing gaze. It was so strange. Not what you expected a kiss to feel like. Sure, you had kissed Rose before, but that was different and didn't count. Dave was alive. Even if only barely.

It had felt… mushy. And kind of soft, despite his lips being dry. You remember him pulling you in and squirm from the memory. What was going on? Why did he even do it? Your thinking is cut short as you round a corner only to become face to face with Bro. He must have been pacing too.

"How is he?" His voice is calm and even kind of soothing. You would have thought he'd be much more worried with Dave's situation.

"He woke up for a few seconds then went out again." You're careful to leave out the part where he kissed you. Bro seems content with the answer and continues walking, waving a goodbye to you. Your eyes water and you yawn. What time was it? You pull out your phone to see three new text messages. Two were from Jade, one was from Rose. You decide to leave them for a bit. You exit out of the message prompt. It's 9:16.

A sigh escapes from your lips, puffing in front of you and warming the air slightly. Visiting hours will be over soon and you'll have to go home. You turn around and start to dial your dad's number. A hand grabs the phone, startling you, and you look up to see Bro. You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"No need to call your dad. You can stay at our house. It's closer and I can take you to visit with me tomorrow." You must have hesitated because he sighs. "Dave will be fine. Don't worry about him. It's just a concussion and a broken leg." It reassures you slightly, even though you know for a fact that Dave's arm is sprained and his ribs are bruised.

"Yeah sure." He nods and leads you off to his rusty old pick-up. You wonder why he doesn't use all of the money he earns from his puppet shit to move out of the apartment and get a new car.

He must have seen the look on your face because he explains. "We like it this way. You don't need fancy shit to be happy. Plus, I want to save the money for college. I want to give Dave a better chance than I had." The words are kind of touching to you. But Bro just keeps staring ahead at the road. "You can stay in Dave's room. His clothes should fit you." You nod and stare out of the window the entire length of the ride; which isn't that long anyway. You finally get to the apartment after climbing what seemed to be endless flights of stairs. You're out of breath, but Bro seems completely at ease. Damn him. He opens the door and lets both of you in. The house is how you left it, in all of its messy glory.

"You know where all the shit is; go wild." He thumps down on the futon, flicking on the plasma TV to some vague cartoon-ish show you don't stay around long enough to care about. You go into Dave's room and the memories hit you like a brick. Immediately you start to gather the clothes and trash from the floor, putting them in the garbage and washing machine respectively. After all of the laundry is done, you sit on the edge of the bed to fold it.

You still have a feeling itching under your skin. A curiosity crawling inside of you, grating away at your resolve. The thoughts race through your head, but you can't catch them to piece everything together. Dave seriously kissed you. Without joking about it. He's been closed off and maiming himself. He's lost weight and doesn't seem to be eating. It doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense.

You look down to where you've been busily folding clothes and see they're all neatly piled up. You pick them up, pile by pile, and deposit them into their rightful drawers. When you go to put his boxers away, something in the drawer catches your eye. You put down the pile and shift the clothes in there to get a better look.

You pick it up and immediately throw it across the room. It clinks against the wall and lands on the carpeted floor. You stare at it as if it will start moving, then look back to the drawer to see if there's more. And there is. Inside is a small stash of razorblades. You hate them. Some have dried brown blood on them. Dave's blood. You pick them up, careful not to knick yourself, and throw them across the room. They clatter to the floor, landing near the first one. You want to destroy them. You wish destroying them would fix Dave. You wish it were that easy. But there's a veil between you.

And you fight to get through the mist while Dave waits hopelessly on the other side. But you know Dave isn't hopeless. You can help him. You can fix him. It's just so damn hard, though. You wish you had the reading capabilities of Rose. Or a more cooperative Dave to tell you exactly what was up. You were stuck with surprisingly little.

The blades sat on the floor and you got up, crouching and carefully picking each one up and throwing them in the garbage. You cover them with the other trash so you don't have to look at them.

Suddenly your stomach growls and you're reminded that you haven't eaten all day. You head out of Dave's now clean room and towards the kitchen. Bro is still sitting on the couch watching a show with candy-colored ponies or something. You walk into the kitchen and open the fridge. You jump and fall backwards with a squeak when swords come clattering out. You lay on the ground with your heart pounding for a minute until you calm down.

When you look up Bro is finishing gathering up the weapons and offers you a hand. You take it and get up. He mumbles something about you being slow, warns you about the others, and then goes back to his My Little whatever. You frown and decide to ask for Subway on the way to the hospital tomorrow. It's much less risky. So instead of eating, you go to take a bath.

When you get to the bathroom you find they don't have a bath tub. Only a glass walled shower. You lock the door behind you to prevent any awkward encounters and start to undress, feeling very awkward in a foreign bathroom. You usually only come in here to pee.

You turn on the water so it's not scalding hot and step inside. The glass wall is strangely open, but you start to wash. You use Dave's shampoo with the vague hope that maybe that's why his hair is always so tidy. While scrubbing your scalp you look down at yourself and how the water runs over your body. The thought of masturbating comes into your mind but you immediately shake it out.

You've never jerked off in someone else's house, and you don't plan to. You finish up your shower and get out, grabbing for a towel and wrapping it around your waist. You gather your clothes from the floor and open the door. You nearly fall over again when you come face to face with Bro. Why was he waiting outside? Oh my god what if he heard you humming the Ghostbusters theme song.

"I need to pee, so do you think you can move out of the doorway before I piss my pants? I'm getting too old to hold it in you know." The words stir you from your thoughts and you move aside. You go into Dave's room and pick out some of his newly washed clothes, most of which have some form of red, and snuggle into bed. The mattress is stiff, but still bearable.

One last check of your phone and an update to Rose and you close your eyes for the night. Maybe Dave will be able to tell you what all this shit is about tomorrow.