-Wipes eyes- Okay, so I made the horrible mistake of looking through Sadstuck vids. I wanted to rewatch The Sufferer's Final Sermon, since I've caught up more and can fully understand it this time. A few tears. Tried to dispel them with JohnXDave, then just Strider in general, which accidently led to "True Bros" and I bawled like a baby. The solution should be to go to my OTP, right? Nope. PBJ is so unfortunately riddled with sad, of course the first videos I click are bloody, teary pictures set to tissue-clutching music.

So here. Have some of my sadstuck feels, because those videos made this pop into my freaking head and it won't come out any other way!

Disclaimer: I don't own Homestuck. Obviously. That heart-crushing ship-killing bastard god Hussie does. Though I did quote some lines from page 5886.

Gamzee shambled off to the transportalizing pads, quite content. His moirail had just ordered him to clean up immediately and fix his make up or something, because god help him if he had to look at him one more second he was going to… Well, he didn't finish, but it was apparent he probably wanted to say puke. Or maybe burst into tears. It was hard to tell, and Gam wasn't sure why either of those things would be said, but Karkat's face had scrunched up and he shoved Gamzee towards the stairs. He said he had to talk with the others before he was going to clean the filth off of himself as well.

Gamzee didn't register anything particularly dirty on Karkat, but whatever. That was fine. Gamzee was experiencing a weird float-y-yet-hyper-aware feeling, like whenever he'd been staring at the ocean for hours, looking for any signs of his Goatdad till his eyes would become heavy and everything blurred together. It wasn't quite sleepiness, but more like he was removed from his body. He wouldn't even think far enough to remember why he was there in the first place; he'd just stand up and wander back to his hive, not sure why he was doing so but not questioning a damn thing.

This was a lot like that, except he could tell that he did more than just stare at water. The memories were kind of hazy, mostly flashes of color, and noises… there were so many, so loud and so scary… and then there were the voic-

The zapping of teleporting interrupted his thoughts as he entered his area of the meteor. His mind had blanked again anyway, so it was probably best not to dwell on those thoughts. He knew had to take a bath for some reason. Gam supposed he did feel kind of sticky, like he was covered in sopor or something. Instead of looking at what it was, however, he just shuffled along the cold, dark, and messy room towards the place he had shoved an ablution trap into when they first settled into the lab.

His mind drifted back to his most recent milestone: Karkat had shoosh-papped him. He wasn't quite sure why Karkat was did this, but it was nice to have him as a moirail. The grouchy troll had never really admitted it before. But when he had realized what Karkat was doing, he'd felt immensely reassured and happy. The others were looking at him with forced smiles (those that could see anyway) and refused to be near him, but that didn't matter. Karkat was his best friend. His best bro was by his side.

Gamzee's foot suddenly slipped in something and he fell on his rear with a honk. He rubbed his sore butt, fully planning on just ignoring whatever mess he'd made and going back to doing whatever it was he was doing before, but a sticky wet feeling stopped him. He pulled his hand away to peer at the mysterious liquid. Gamzee squinted at it; it seemed really strange and new, yet somehow familiar.

The capricious troll looked down to see that he had slipped in it. His eyes followed the smear that trailed across the floor, his chest beginning to thump for some reason. The dark substance showed to be a mix of colors running together. Further into the room they separated and became a little more distinct, yet it was hard to pick out any individual hue as the viscous stream widened and grew. Again there was that nagging familiarity at the sight.

Gamzee slowly got to his hands and knees, not trusting himself to stand, and crawled forward. His eyebrows furrowed and his hands slipped, but he refused to look away from the closed chest that the trail lead to. His heart was hammering the closer he got, but he continued on. Something was telling him whatever was in that chest was important. It also told him he would not like it.

Reaching a shaking palm to the lid, he gently pushed it up. A wave of awful stench hit him and he immediately looked away, covering his nose with an arm and squeezing his eyes shut. After a few breaths through his mouth, Gamzee lowered his arm and blinked, gazing absently down at himself. That sticky liquid covered his hands and elbows. It was a dark, ugly shade that apparently didn't mix well, seeing as how there were bright flecks dotting the skin underneath. But looking closer… those flecks were dry. And they ran in dotted all around his arms. Gam twisted his arms every which way, seeing that they were indeed quite colored with the stuff. He noticed some on his pants, too, and all over his shoes. His shirt was absolutely splattered. Bright, multi-colored splashes were caked on like bad rainbow makeup.

Now that he thought about it, there was something wrong with his makeup. Breath coming in gasps, he put a hand to his face. His fingers came away covered in purple.

Blood. His blood.

He understood the concept, but not what it was doing there, outside of his body. A painful itch tickled his face from above his left eye to below his right, but he ignored it. It began dawning on him just what the colorful substance was on his clothes, the identity of the liquid that mixed into a disgusting pigment leading to the open chest.

Gamzee was unwilling to turn his head, to see what was inside. The images that were so hazy before began clearing up and running at break-neck speed through his mind. Breaking necks…

Seemingly by force he turned, slowly and jerkily, and peered into the chest. What he found in there really should have classified it as a coffin.

His face mutated into a combination of horror, sorrow, and sickness at the sight of the heads. There was so much blood, much more than there should have been, all running together and seeping out from the displacement of body parts. The trail of blood had been caused not by it spilling over the lid, however; that would have just resulted in a puddle. The overflow had simply followed the path made by the blood emptying from corpses as they were dragged to the chest. Apparently there was not enough room in there for both bodies and heads, though, since the decapitated remains were no longer present.

Gamzee shook horribly. He recognized the broken hipster glasses and purple streak of Eridan, the flowing, tangled locks of Feferi's hair filling up most of the space. Equius's shattered smile glared up at him alongside the childish face of Nepeta. A large orange horn poked out of the gruesome collection and he froze when he saw it. The feeling in his arms and legs evaporated.

Reaching one shaky hand in, he grasped the horn and gently tugged. There was resistance; the other end was probably caught on something. Gam numbly shoved the other heads out of the way and pulled, working it out like some prize in a claw machine. It came out with a squelching sound and the thick blood began to slowly fill the empty space. He held the freed head by the horns and gazed at the face, the button nose, small fangs poking out from half-closed mouth, fluffy mohawk fairly disheveled. Eyes, glazed and forever stuck in dull terror, gazed sightlessly out at him.

His mind rejected what he was seeing. This wasn't right. It was wrong, all wrong.

Why wasn't he smiling? Didn't he used to smile whenever he was around him? Yeah, it was always kind of small and nervous, but sometimes it was wide and happy.

Gamzee felt the corners of his lips turn up warmly.

Yeah, real happy. When they were rapping or joking around, and he'd have that cute laugh. It made him seem very innocent, which he was in Gam's mind. Just a precious little motherfucker who struggled with his self-esteem, and couldn't walk but still went on adventures, and stuttered an awful lot but not when he felt somewhat confident.

Gamzee moved his grip to either side of the head and, holding it out to eye level, used his thumbs to push the bloodied mouth into a grisly smile.

That's it. All he has to do is smile. If you're smiling, you're more comfortable and confident. Confident people don't frown. They have fun and smile! Show off that winning smile…

Okay, I did. Now I'm on the floor, motionless, in a terrible way, so I got back on the wheels. It was a nice thought though.

Hahaha, fuck motherfuckin yeah! Let's take this ninja-titied bitch back to the hive with the chorus…

Together my miracle brother!

The chocolate blood trickled down his stiff chin.

I'm all a firm believer at the miracles.

Do you have time for my miracles, religious friend? }:)

Do you get your notice on of the miracles?

So many, uh, gratuitous expletive, miracles, the magic mother, also expletive, miracles.

His pointed teeth started poking his thumbs as the lifeless flesh tried to settle back into its former position.

Honk.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

It's less appropriate for me to do the honks, than you, but that was still great.

Yeah, bro. Yeah!

The slams were truly prime and, your religious views, though I don't share them, are reasonably inspirational. I think I'm in the process of releasing at least one tear.

Something clouded his vision and the smiling image in front of him wavered, making his heart and smile sink.

Me too, bro, you mother fuckin know there be some of my eye's royal jelly to go with your emotional peanut butter.

Whoa, aha, ha.

He released the dead mouth, the unpleasant gaping expression returning.

This is beautiful, dude, I feel so at chill with you.

The first tear rolled its way down his cheek, cutting a track across the blood and makeup.

Yeah, friendliness with you is, pretty much always nice, and fun to have.

There were more now, leaking uncontrollably from his eyes. He hugged the head to his body, soft sobs emanating from his thin frame. So much blood bathed him, but he didn't care. He could only see the brown, everywhere, muddled by the indigo tears that threatened to go on forever.

He choked at the flood of memories washing over him. All the conversations, rap battles, and fun times; how they were there to listen to each other, even when it seemed no one else was willing to sit through it or try to understand them. There was the time of the accident, and how he patiently coaxed him out of his utter lack of will to do anything, and the numerous instances when he was consoled after facing empty ocean waves again and again. He recalled the time they first met, online and in person, and how stress just eased away whenever they were in each other's presence.

Then came the bad times. There was the long stretch of awkward silence between them after that conversation. Even after they started talking again, it wasn't quite the same; it was infrequent, brief, and seemed somewhat strained. By the time they were all on the meteor they hardly chatted with each other at all.

Then when he got his new legs… It was messy, and painful to watch, but he could walk again! It was like a miracle from the mirthful messiahs themselves. So much confidence, plus he was smiling like he used to.

Gamzee paused on that memory, of seeing his first hesitant steps, the way his face lit up and his eagerness to test the new appendages out. But it quickly slipped away, to be replaced by darkness, crying out, and too much blood. Corpses, some found, others his own handiwork. Why? Why would he do this? His friends, their mangled bodies, and him. He knew he'd been smiling, but… but there was rage tainting the memory. So much rage, and voices. Oh god, the voices… They had told him things, dark and horrible secrets. What he should plan on doing, what he tried to do. He got so far before Karkat saved him. Yet he knew he had been totally willing to keep going, mercilessly, otherwise. There would've been blood everywhere. So many colors, he'd be able to make a rainbow.

Right now, however, the only blood he could think of was that which covered him. It covered the other one's body, too, when he had found him. That memory was strong; finding it, looking like a discarded doll and bent out of shape. Limbs stuck out at odd angles in a dull orange pool. It had dripped from his shiny new prosthetics, his mashed lips, and the gaping hole in the middle of his chest.

The scene had given him pause by some tugging emotion that welled up inside his throat, but the feeling was easily shooed away like a pesky insect. A cold, mad eye had been passed over the body. It was not Gamzee's work that killed him, but like his other treasures, he was going to hoard it. After collecting a handy keepsake, of course.

The sound, the feel of cracking and ripping was vividly sharp in his mind, sharp and piercing like a dagger. It made his head and heart hurt to the point where he collapsed onto his side on the cold, hard floor, curled in around that macabre trophy. He was gone, gone forever. If there'd been a chance to bring him back, it was lost now.

Would it have mattered? They had drifted so far apart, after all.

Gamzee shook his head. His face was a mess, makeup, blood, and tears smeared something awful. He wouldn't have cared how broken their relationship was, as long as his bro was alive and smiling and happy. Then he wouldn't have to worry about him. He wouldn't have to miss him so badly.

Unfortunately, the truth he faced was clear. With his brain no longer addled, many things were clear.

Tavros' dead self, wherever that was, if it even was, would go on existing far away from Gamzee. The indigo blood, with the traits granted to him by his biology, would survive for many sweeps with nothing but the memories and emotions left behind. He wouldn't have the insane rage or sopor to hide behind as a buffer. He would be unable to truly tell him how sorry he was and how much he wanted things to go back to the way they were, no matter how impossible that was. Everything had irrevocably changed now, though, and it was unlikely he'd ever get to see Tavbro smile at him again.

AN:

Let's just pretend Gam kept the… stuff… in his room. I don't know where exactly they are anymore, or if Gam and Tav even do meet again. I'm like, in the 11/22/11 updates. XD No spoilers, please!