Every night Karkat comes to find him. At least, he thinks it's every night (Karkat always shows up just as his stomach starts to growl with some meal or another). But his approach is always slow, cautious, bordering on the edge of fearful. Karkat always tries to hide the fear, has gotten pretty good at it, but as he approaches it starts a tingling in the base of Gamzee's horns (chucklevoodoos yearning for the receptive victim). When he watches closely, he can see the trembling in the other troll's hands, when he closes his eyes he can feel the distraction and nervousness in his horns. The nerves only grow at a whispered HoNk, the distraction winning out when he doesn't make a sound.

The same thing, every night for half a sweep now, and it's getting old. Every night the time Karkat lingers for a shorter and shorter period of time, is more distracted, asks Gamzee less questions. Sure, he'll shoosh, he'll pap, he'll make sure Gamzee eats and isn't honking and that he's calm (no sopor Karkat warned him the first night, no Faygo, no horns, none of the stuff that he used to love), but he isn't focused. When he talks it's not the violent sort of rambling he was used to, but a quieter ranting. About the (blasphemous) human Dave, about Terezi, about how much time they spend together. Red concerns from a troll long flushed but never brave enough to pity openly.

MOTHERFUCKING TEAL BLOODED BITCH.

She runs him around in circles by saying, doing nothing, and it hurts a motherfucker to see what she's doing to Karkat. She's a waste of his pity.

Gamzee's a waste of his pity.

But he wants it. Wants more of it than a palebro should rightly claim. He's a greedy motherfucker now...

No, not now. That was one true understanding that being sober had gotten on him. All of his life up until a half a sweep ago had been the lie. The troll he had become off of the sopor was what he really had been meant to be the whole time. An heir of a gruesome legacy, a subjuggulator to be. If it hadn't been for Sgrub, he'd either had been culled or taken off planet to be trained. To be a motherfucking destroyer using the rage that bubbled up in his rotted think pan without ending.

Bard of Rage. How apt. The rage had always been there. Dosed and sleeping by the sopor, but fed by the Faygo and a the lack of a moirail to balance him. All being sober had done was release it. Allowed him to channel it. Driven him to bathing his hands in the warm and warmer still indigo and olive bloods of his victims. All the heat had been gone from Tavbro by the time he'd found that motherfucker, and it'd made him think of Karkat. Of the miraculous fire of his veins. He thought of their first meeting, of the molten blood hovering just below the surface. Remembered the urge to press their lips together to feel the heat unhindered. He wanted that blood, on his hands, on his lips, on his skin. It was a memory that was with him, had always been with him, every waking moment since he'd first lain his hands on Karkat. And so he'd reached out, for the gray that so barely hid the burning.

PUNCHLINE BLOODED MOTHERFUCKER.

He'd regretted the words with the part of his thinkpan that was still Gamzee Makara and not a subjuggulator. With the part that mourned Eribro and little Nepeta, that pitied Tavbro. Yet the dominate part, the MOTHERFUCKING RULER OF ALL THESE MOTHERFUCKING LOWBLOODS, had laughed, and honked, and demanded that he take what he wanted, what he desired.

Karkat never knew. Every night he showed up (shorter and shorter, like a bro didn't pity no more than he had to), and didn't even MOTHERFUCKING KNOW just what was going on. The rest of the time he left Gamzee alone. Left him to making his wicked elixirs (sparkling fairy dust mixed in the most wicked of elixirs), and thinking. Gamzee didn't like being left alone to think anymore. All it did was make him run in circles in his thinkpan. Karkat (palebros 4 life and nothing more) to Terezi (GREEDY TEAL BLOODED BITCH), Vriska (didn't even get to avenge Tavbro) to Kanaya (JADE UPSTART THINKS SHE CAN TOUCH HIM), to everyone else. To everything, to nothing, to Karkat.

Always to Karkat.

A tingling in the base of his horns (chucklevoodoos yearning for the always receptive Karkat) tells him that Karkat's coming. Before long he can smell the meal as well (human coffee that everyone's taken a MOTHERFUCKING LIKING TO, grubs and grubsauce, some human food called pizza), hear the rattling of metal cup on metal tray. Nervous hands, nervous vibes, nervous Karkat can't even trust his moirail (pale, only ever pale, he wanted something redder, but THAT WAS FOR TEREZI), and another night has passed.

"BROUGHT YOU SOME FUCKING FOOD."

"ThAnKs bRo," Gamzee says, trying hard to force the old, lilting nature into his voice. Karkat doesn't like it when he talks mellow or mad. So he tries, strains, for what Karkat needs to hear. "aLwAyS KnOw hOw tO LoOk oUt fOr a mOtHeRfUcKeR."

"I COULDN'T DO ANY FUCKING LESS FOR YOU."

Except he could, had, did. Gamzee didn't call him on it. What was the point?

"I'D LOVE TO FUCKING STAY AND CHAT, BUT..."

This was the day he feared, ever since coming to hide. The sad motherfucking thing was that it only took half a sweep for it to happen.

"YoU'Ve gOt sOmE OtHeR MoThErFuCkInG ShIt tO DeAl wItH, lEaDeR MaN. iT'S CoOl. Do wHaT Ya gOt tO Do."

Karkat nods, puts down the tray and pushes it towards him. Waits until Gamzee's got it in his hands, then starts to back away. He never turns his back on Gamzee anymore. Doesn't trust Gamzee. Can't even pity him enough for that. How, then, can Karkat pity Gamzee enough for anything else? So he says nothing as Karkat backs away to the point where he seems to feel safe, then turns and goes. Leaves Gamzee alone in the darkness with nothing but his thoughts, his memories, and his wicked elixirs.

Alone.

How he was before he met Karkat. How he'll always be.