Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie.
The air was cold and heavy. Tavros sniffled and snuck up to the back door. They're not getting away this time, he thought to himself, removing his hand from the trigger. His team had been dealing with these gangsters for over six months, in attempt to capture them and stop them from selling any more drugs, and disrupting the peace wherever they fled to. They always came close to catching them- only to find out they had escaped off to another city in the states. One particular thing about this gang was that they were always a step ahead of he and his team, which pissed Tavros off.
He bit his lip and kicked the doorknob, breaking the lock and causing the door to swing open. Once opened, he peaked in to the vast room, only a small fraction of the warehouse he had to search. This place was huge. He groaned quietly to himself, stepping carefully in to the entrance. He let out a soft and shaky breath, observing his surroundings. He frowned when he couldn't find an area to sneak behind in case he was attacked. He finally spotted a huge garbage bin, and sprinted towards it.
He sprinted on his tiptoes, making his steps light and quiet. Running filled him with adrenaline, and he loved it. Every step he took, the quicker his pace became, and the smile that had crept on to his face got wider. He slid to a stop, leaning behind the garbage bin and panting slightly. He eyed the room- nothing. It was very quiet. Quiet enough for him to hear his head and heart pound in his body. A feeling of adrenaline, intensity, and fear were coursing through him, mingling with each other. These died down a bit when he noticed the room was clear. He picked up his walky-talky.
"Back room and entrance to second floor clear," He articulated, hoping one of his team members would respond.
"Copy. Main entrance clear," one of them responded.
"I'm going up to investigate the second floor," he stated.
"I'll follow, in case you need back up. Jade, Kanaya, Dave and Karkat said the entire first floor is clear. "
"Alright, good." Tavros was very fond of his team members- they were loyal and trust worthy, so he was proud to work with them.
Slowly, he crouched and snuck up to the staircase. He peeked up and saw that there was an opening where the railing should be. He paused, pursing his lips. New concerns were always fun. He slowly walked up the stairs. Though it seemed as though the further he got up, the warmer it got. He stopped at the top of the stairs, and noticed a box of old cargo a few feet away from the stairs, perfect for hiding. He scanned the long room. It was tall and had 5 lamps lined up in a row, casting a dim light in the room. He peered at some other boxes of cargo further in the room and noticed a box being moved. They were here.
He dashed behind the cargo near the staircase and loaded his gun. He pressed his back against the boxes and took a deep breath. They weren't going to get away; they weren't going to continue they're menacing ways. This is the end. Everything stops now.
He peeked out and aimed at one of the gang members, whom had a black suit and black fedora. Such a classy outfit for ones death. He hesitated, squinted, and then pulled the trigger. The bullet soared through the air, piercing the flesh of the one it was aimed at. With a loud cry of pain, metal was heard crashing to the ground, along with an echoed thump. One down.
He smirked, rising slowly.
Time to move up.
He glanced around, finding a smaller box, but big enough to crouch behind and not be seen. He shot towards it, landing on his knees. He grunted from the sudden pain that he felt from his knees. He shook it off, searching for other members. Upon hearing another gunshot, he flinched and knocked over a box he hid behind, exposing where he hid.
"Sh-Shoot!" he stammered, a bit panicked.
He saw one of the gang members readying his weapon, nearing the trigger. Tavros acted fast, immediately cocking his gun and aiming, hoping for a clean shot and he pulled the trigger. A loud cry of pain was heard throughout the room, a signal that he had hit the enemy. He hid his face and smiled triumphantly. One more of these suckers was down, he knew there were more, but as he got rid of each one, that meant there were fewer left.
He sucked in a breath and held it, moving forward. He noticed there weren't any left on the floor, or maybe there were. He heard yelling downstairs, completely throwing him off guard. He spun around, the cry sounding familiar- Jade. She and Equius were coming for back up. Running towards the yelling, his face met the ground, a pain pulsing through his shoulder as he cried out. He had been hit. He lay on the ground for a few seconds, before turning around to see the kid who had hit him.
He was young, with a terrified expression on his face. He was new in the gang, clearly. He looked around six feet, so he was taller than Tavros, who was 5'6. He glanced up and tried to focus his vision.
The kid held a gun firmly in his hands. Yes, both hands. He was shivering slightly, heaving his breath. He desperately tried to relax himself. Tavros shook his head, this kid wasn't going to shoot, he was too afraid. Tavros shut his eyes and smiled softly, chuckling.
"You don't think I'll shoot, don't you!" a shrill voice rang in his ear; panicked and…angry.
Tavros shook his head, his vision blurred. He was suddenly very… tired.
"I'll fucking do it! You think this is the end for us?" the young mans mused, cocking the gun.
Tavros attempted to crawl away, lurching forward and stretching out his arm, supporting his weight with the other.
Suddenly, a gun was fired, but this time, Tavros felt the rush of pure agony course through him from his left shoulder, all the way down his body. He cried out, falling to the ground.
Everything was blurry, he was panting heavily form the pain and he could hear Equius yell at the rest of the team to move, along with heavy footsteps.
"Hands up motherfucker," Dave said coolly. Another gunshot sounded after Dave's voice run through his ears. A loud yelp was heard; Tavros couldn't bear to see who had been shot.
"It's o-over buddy," a hesitant and breathy voice whispered in his ear. No time was wasted thinking about who had said that as he felt the familiar pain of being shot pulse through his lower back.
Another loud cry was heard, perhaps it was his own, or his co-worker. He whimpered and he felt something warm and sticky surround him: his blood.
He pushed himself up with his good arm, peaking around to see the chaos. One minute, there were multiple gunshots and multiple cries for help, the next, silence. He lifted his head out of the pool of his own blood and shrieked at the sight before him. Equius, Kanaya, Jade, Dave and Karkat lay there, motionless. Tavros tried to drag himself towards them, but even if he made it there, he would've been useless because he couldn't feel anything from the waist below.
He dragged himself to where Karkat lay; he was closest to him. He was slipping as he crawled closer. He hovered over Karkat, using his bad arm to try and shake Karkat's shoulder.
"K-Karkat-" he was cut off as he fell, resting his forehead against his unconscious co-worker. He wanted to feel the heat that was supposed to radiate from Karkat's body; he wanted to feel Karkat's heart beat against his chest; he wanted to hear his soft, relaxed breath, when he wasn't angry or panicking, he wanted all these things but all he could feel was his quiet, non-existent breath; his heart laying still in his body; feel his cold, hard skin. Tavros began crying, he had failed all of them. The people he trusted the most, they all died because he had decided to be a moron and let his guard down.
"I'm so s-sorry Karkat…everyone…" He sobbed. Maybe if his tears slipped on to Karkat's pale skin, he would wake up, like in some fairy tales; someone would wake up from another's tears. Nothing. What a silly, childish thought. If only he could just slip away with them…
…
"No!"
He shot up, shivering and panting heavily. He shut his eyes and touched his sweaty arms and torso. He sighed in relief. He was there- he was alive. He touched his legs, and looked away, not feeling his fingertips touch the cold skin that wrapped his skinny legs. He glanced at his alarm clock: it read 6:00 am. He had to get up and get ready for work in an hour, so he figured there is no point in going back to sleep. He threw the covers off of his body, exposing his bare torso and shorts.
Grabbing his wheel chair, he pulled himself on to it, flinching from the pain in his shoulder; it had never fully healed, and wheeled himself to the washroom, leaning over the sink, turning on the hot water. He cupped his hands, letting a small pool of warm water swell in his hands, and brought it to his face. He threw the water on his face, ignoring the spilt water. After he washed his face, he decided to take a quick shower. Crawling in to his shower, where he had a seat installed, he washed himself, trying to wash away the memories of that night.
He remembered it so well, like it happened only yesterday, when in reality it was already 2 years ago. He sighed, letting the warm water fall in little droplets on him. He could waste a few extra minutes in the shower, since he had woken up an hour earlier than required. Turning the shower knob, the water abruptly stopped falling out of the nozzle, which saddened him- he liked the feeling of the water on his skin. Leftover water spewed out, as if the drains had coughed it out. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his shoulders, drying himself up.
This was it; this was what his life is going to be like until the day he dies. He's going to have to crawl everywhere, hitch rides from co-workers, and sit down whenever he wanted to shower. He felt annoying and worthless, any self-esteem he had in him had drained the day he woke up in the hospital and he was told he'd never walk again. The worst part of it all; was he'd never run again.
He sighed, getting dressed. He pulled on a white dress shirt and black dress pants. He had an interrogation that morning, so therefore he must dress as professionally as possible. Pulling out a black blazer and a pair of black dress shoes, he finished getting ready and went to the mirror.
His cheeks had sunken over the course of two years, meaning he had definitely gotten skinnier. He sighed, taking a bit of gel in his hands and styling his small mohawk. His brown eyes had lost their usual glow, just a dull brown. He had a young appearance, which his co-workers teased him for. He would consider himself a handsome fellow, but he was used to the remarks from his boss, Vriska, when she said he wasn't handsome, but he was cute. It annoyed him- he's twenty-three, not fifteen year-old boy.
He smiled shyly in to the mirror, but quickly wiped it off. He pursed his lips and wheeled himself towards the staircase. His team members had each chipped in on buying him a chair that was attached on the railing, and with a press of a button, he would be taken to the main floor. He was thankful for this, grateful for the generosity of his friends. He grabbed his cell phone, which reads 6:30 AM. Karkat was usually awake by now.
He dialled his number, and placed the phone to his ear, gnawing at his lip as he waited for a response.
"Hello?" he heard Karkat's grouchy and tired voice respond.
"Uh, hello K-Karkat," Tavros greeted.
"Yeah hi, what is it? It's really fucking early Tavros," the grouchy man complained. Tavros sighed.
"I know that, um, I was just calling to remind you that today we have an interrogation at 8:30," he stated, drumming his fingers on his leg.
"I know Tavros, it's at eight fucking thirty! It's 6:40, why the fuck are you awake anyways?" Karkat questioned, annoyed. Tavros frowned.
"I-I just…woke up early that is all." He had lied. No one knew about his nightmares, and he never planned on telling anyone. For some reason, even though the gang was defeated and only he was injured, he didn't know why his recurring dream always ended with everyone dying.
"Mhm, whatever, might as well get the fuck up and get ready. Bye."
"B-Bye Kar-" he was cut off when the receiver on the other end went dead. He hung up. Ending the call, he placed his phone on the counter in the kitchen. Everything had been lowered, which meant easier access for Tavros. He decided to make himself a cup of coffee. He filled up the boiler with water, turning it on and leaving it on the stove boil. He brought out an instant coffee mix and put three spoons full in his mug. He didn't really like coffee, but since he woke up so early he decided to drink it, just to keep him awake for the day.
Once the water stopped boiling, he poured some in his cup, stirring the mixture until it was black. Grabbing some sugar, he poured some in his cup; he couldn't stand coffee it's own.
He sipped it slowly until he heard a car horn sound outside his house signalling Karkat was here. He took this opportunity to leave his coffee on the kitchen table and grabbed his phone, heading out towards the car. He opened the car door, to see that Karkat sat in the driver's seat, lifting a hand as if he were to say hello. Tavros smiled slightly and crawled in to the car, with the help of Karkat of course. Once in the car, he folded his wheel chair and placed it in between him and his seat.
"Good morning, Karkat," Tavros muttered quietly.
"Hey," Karkat answered.
"Sorry about waking you up so early, I thought you would be awake," he admitted.
"Whatever it's fine," Karkat said, before adding, "okay new fucking rule, don't call Karkat unless it's past seven in the morning."
Tavros giggled at his remark, cracking a smile.
The next few minutes was spent in silence. Uncomfortable with it, Tavros decided to ask Karkat about the man they were interrogating.
"Um, Karkat?"
"What?"
"Do you have any information on the man we're interrogating this morning?" he asked, turning to look at him.
"Of course I fucking do, it's my job to read through their profiles anyways. The guy's name is Gamzee Makara; he's probably a huge asshole from what I've read. He has a history with attacking people and drug use. We caught the fucker in his apartment. We're trying to find the jackass, aka, the supplier."
Tavros nodded, he was a bit more anxious to find out how he looked, it was only natural considering he was always mocked for his height, weight and 'baby-face' as Vriska once retorted.
"Um, I-I meant, what does he look like? L-Like how old is he?" he asked again.
"Oh. He's a tall fucker- 6'2, twenty-five years old. He's skinny as shit though. Weighs about 160 lbs."
Tavros nodded. He seemed very intimidating- especially if he was supposed to be eight inches taller than Tavros was. He sighed.
Oh how he couldn't wait for this interrogation.
Hey guys! Thanks so much for checking out the first chapter of Miraculous! Concept creator and editor creds go to Nevermore-Evermore, go check out her stories! They're honestly amazing. Thank you and I hope you enjoy! Go ahead and leave a review, I'd really appreciate it!
-Serena
