[He blinks when Karkat guides his face up from his shoulder, and for an instant, he thinks did I do something, what did I say wrong? But it's just the shades. Dave doesn't even have time to feel scared before they're off and Karkat's done, that was all. His expression doesn't say he's mad or nervous or disappointed at all. Dave closes his eyes again, lets a shuddery breath out against Karkat's shoulder, and listens.

It's not your fault. It's not your fault. You're okay.]

How do you do that...

[He should be upset. He is upset, or will be again, he's pretty sure. Every truth he's built himself on turned out to be pretend, a fairy tale he wove to protect himself because monsters didn't stay under the bed where he lived, and blankets wouldn't stop them.

But he feels all right. Not great, not even close, but soothed, maybe. Stabilized. Karkat's not talking to him like Dave's gotta be coaxed down in whispers like a cornered animal, like the world is falling apart; he's just talking to him like normal. It makes it feel normal. Like he's got this. Like he doesn't have to be falling apart.

How does he do that?]

How do you just. Make things okay. Pretty sure 's not all okay, but it's really hard to argue with you when you're here being all reasonable and making sense.

[...Mm. Dave rubs the spot between his eyes against Karkat's shoulder.]

And petting me, I guess. That probably helps.