[Dave isn't supposed to sound like this. Not when talking about his lusus, not when talking about anything, there is absolutely not a force in all of paradox space that should ever make Dave fucking Strider sound so... small? Confused? No, lost, like he'd never had a place to call home, no safe haven, nothing, because he fucking hadn't and this utter bastard Karkat had never met is responsible for all of it. What the fuck had he done to make Dave feel so unwanted? How could he have, how could anyone?]

I don't know.

[Karkat isn't sure if Dave genuinely expects an answer, but he has to say something. He can't let this pain go unacknowledged, and even if he doesn't know what to do about it, responding at all has to count for something, right? He's listening, he's here, and he's sure as fuck not going to back out of this moirallegiance just because his palemate's shit is beyond his capacity to handle. He can't leave. He doesn't want to leave. How the fuck could anyone not want Dave?

He doesn't stop petting his hair even though that much still feels inadequate—story of his fucking life, obviously. He doesn't know what Dave needs. If he could think of something else to say, maybe...

Karkat hesitates, then tries again.]

Some people—trolls, and I guess lusii, are just broken that way. There isn't always a reason.

[People like Vriska—or Gamzee, more likely, who just didn't know how the fuck to do anything or relate to people without hurting them. God, is that what Dave had meant when he'd first told Karkat he was broken? But that's—no, that couldn't be it, Dave could never be like that. Not his moirail.]

I don't know why else anyone wouldn't want you.