You love him.

You love him so much that it feels like it hurts sometimes.

But he is dying.

Some days it's hard, the days he flies into a rage, screaming at anyone who dares to come close, throwing stuff at the walls and staying up all day and all night on the caffeine he ingests in the liters of Faygo he drinks incessantly. Daubing horrible, twisted pictures and stories on the walls, he guzzles down whatever food you manage to slip in to him so he doesn't starve. He stays like this for hours, days, until you can sneak a sleeping pill into one of the pies
that he demands you bake him. He scares you those days. But what scares you more is the broken Gamzee, the one who lies in a heap under his bedsheets after one of his breakdowns, not coming out, even when you talk to him, saying it's all right

He came from a broken family and he was obviously affected deeper than just the scars layered across his body. When his father got custody of him, the beatings only got worse.

He cut school almost every day, not wanting to show the teachers or students the bruises and deep score marks that marred his body. The day that he ran away from home and arrived at the hospital almost a mile away from his home with nothing but the clothes on his back was,
if just for the relief of getting away for a day, the best day of his life he says, other than the day he met you. The hospital staff was horrified by the extent of the damage spreading across his body. He had two fractured ribs and bruises from his shoulders to his thighs.

Bleeding from cuts on his tall, thin back and slender feet he was immediately rushed into intensive care, barely able to stand. He was held in the hospital for a week until he was able to stand without wobbling or collapsing in a dead faint, and then was moved into a foster family's house under a constant vigil. He slowly got better, attending the local high school
that both you and him are sophomores at. It's not fair, you think. He already atoned for whatever sins that led to his suffering. Why Gamzee? Why him of all people? You remember when you first met. It was a rainy day, and you were wandering around downtown, your faux-hawk ruffling in the wind, looking for a birthday gift for your mom. Suddenly, the sky had started to rain lightning and thunder down upon you. Quickly, you wheeled yourself into the first shop you you could fit yourself in, a sort of clothes store that sold only "edgy" clothing with some sort of shitty name, and then you saw him. He turned around from the cash register and said

"What can I motherfucking do for you little bro?"

You wheeled yourself back a bit, surprised at his frank use of words that you would have to wash your mouth out with soap if you said them. Blushing you replied

"O-oh hi. I was j-just getting out of the rain for a bit"

Ugh. Your stuttering always got worse when you were nervous.

"No motherfucking problem bro. Thunder and lightning and all that."

"Uh, y-yeah" You mentally kicked yourself. Be interesting! Even if he is just an employee, you wanted to make a good impression.

"D-don't you go to my school? Prospit H-high?" Prospit was a small school, so most kids at least recognized everyone.

"Aww yeah. You're the quiet kid in English. 3rd row or something."

You blushed again. He noticed where I sit! Wait, why does that even matter? You kept getting redder. He came out from behind the counter. Suddenly, you noticed he's wearing pajama pants. You looked at him, up and down, noting his easy posture and long black hair.

"Y-yeah. I'm Tavros. Nice to m-meet you."

He slowly walked up to you, and he would have easily towered a head above you even if you hadn't been sitting in your wheelchair.

"So anything you motherfucking want then bro?"

"N-no thanks. The rain's stopped now, so I should probably be getting home now..."

"Suuuuure bro. See you motherfucking around."

"Y-yeah. See you around."

You slowly wheeled yourself out of the shop, and just as you crossed the threshold he said softly, then louder

"Wait a motherfucking minute! Here's my pesterchum handle."

He handed you a small strip of paper with the hastily scribbled words "terminallyCapricious" in a rainbow pen. How did he even do that?

"T-thanks. I'll pester y-you later, or something."

He blushed a deep purple and quickly ran back behind the counter as you wheeled yourself out the store. You looked back as you passed the store window, but he wasn't looking at you. For some reason, you were dissappointed...

When you return to your hive that day, you sit up in bed for half an hour, thinking about hi . You hope you will see more of that strange, thin boy.