What had he done? It had started out as a playful sort of wrestling and grappling with the shorter troll, he hadn't meant to get rough with him. It just happened, something that Gamzee Makara could not stop. Something that just took over his mind, the voices of his head speaking louder than ever before he blacked out. And now he was here, staring down at the body of his best friend. He didn't know if the other was still breathing, there was no movement of his chest. He attempted to hear the faint beating of his friend's bloodpusher but heard nothing.
It was a startling realization and it hit Gamzee hard, harder than when he discovered his Lusus had gone off to travel the oceans for whatever reason. Karkat had been the one to comfort him over that detail many times and now...he knew that it wouldn't ever happen again. Some small part of him knew that it would end this way, that he'd be the one to kill off his best friend. As much as it hurt, some part of him knew while another part wanted to fight and keep him alive at his side.
Blood color be damned, he never understood much about it anyway.
He felt a sense of helplessness, a quiet acceptance settling over his shoulders along with the weight of the guilt he felt from doing this to his friend. His moirail...his matesprit...he didn't know what he'd call Karkat at the moment. He felt the pressure of desperation squeezing at his own blood pusher, the tears that threatened to fall finally did. Indigo staining that pale gray, even as he leaned down to plead with the unresponsive troll some more. Even if it was useless, he didn't want the other to be... He couldn't really think it, though he knew the other was dead.
Again and again, Gamzee whimpered for the other to wake up. Feather kisses were placed on the shorter troll's neck, shoulder, and face. The clown showered his friend in kisses, though he was convinced that it wouldn't do any good he wanted to for some reason. There was an odd stirring in his chest, it felt as though his bloodpusher was being constricted. Squeezed.
Why? That was the question floating through his mind currently, he didn't know why. He only knew that staring at his best friend's body tore at him, made him want to cry and scream violently as if it would raise him from the dead. As if it would bring him back, he buried his face into Karkat's stomach and inhaled his warm, spicy scent. Why? If he was gone, why was he still warm? Why did he still smell so...hot? Like he'd been rubbed down with a variety of spices, spices that would only be found on the human world of Earth. The scent was heedy and thick, muddling the thoughts that Gamzee's thinkpan tried to produce in a coherent state.. It wasn't easily done, the clown gripped at his friend's black, long sleeved shirt as a sob escaped his proteinchute.
Why? That question haunted him, Gamzee stayed there for hours. He curled up with his friend's body and snuggled into the fading warmth, at which point he no longer really felt anything but the emptiness in his chest. It tore and cut at him, like a blade to his blood pusher. He hurt, he cried and whimpered for the other to come back. To wake up, until his throat was raw and his voice nearly gone. He eventually had fallen asleep over the Cancer's body, his hand gripping the lifeless pair with desperation.