Gamzee and Calliope laid in her bed, staring at a slow-moving kaleidoscope light moving on the ceiling, completely naked, and playing with each other's fingers. Gamzee blinked slowly as thoughts wandered through his remarkably high mind, forming pictures and objects around him, while Calliope smiled aimlessly at the simplicity of the moment, seeing pinks and greens and reds and purples. Trip hop throbbed in the background, and eased both their thoughts pleasantly.
"I could live this moment forever," Calliope chimed, her voice like tinkling bells. Gamzee watched as light particles slowly left her mouth.
"Me mother fucking too," he said, his voice like a low moaning. Long purple ribbons left Gamzee's mouth as he spoke.
"Could you really?" Calliope turned her head, and her eyes scanned over Gamzee's thin frame slowly. Gamzee felt her eyes on him like fingertips, and his breath caught slightly.
He turned his head, and looked at Tavros's naked figure. Slowly, his lips stretched into a smile, and he leaned in towards him, his lips aching to taste him, a flavour he hadn't felt he experienced in so long. Suddenly, his face was like a candle, with tears pooling in his eyes, and dripping down his wax face. His hand slowly lifted, and he felt Tavros's collar bone gently, his fingertips tingling with the feeling of his soft skin. His breath escaped him when his lips pressed so softly to Tavros's, kissing him slowly, his tongue tasting, sucking, worshipping his.
Meanwhile, Calliope's voice escaped her lips in a gentle whimper as she desperately ran her fingertips down his body, touching his hip bones hungrily, before slipping further downwards, feeling the heat radiating off of him absorb into her. She heard him gasp when her narrow fingertips softly touched the throbbing skin, hardening further at her touch. She wrapped her fingertips around it and stroked him, watching his face contort, mouth dropping open, eyebrows pulling together in pleasure.
"Tav," Gamzee breathed, and Calliope frowned and paused. Gamzee, meanwhile, extended his hand downwards to feel Tavros once more, and when he felt the soft skin and warm moisture between Calliope's legs, his eyes quickly focused and he pulled his hand away, reality snapping back to him like a leather belt across his face.
"You saw me as your boyfriend," Calliope slowly smiled in realisation.
Gamzee moved away from her, sitting up and looking around for his pants, which were hovering in the air about two feet away, eyeing him with beady, brown eyes. He reached for them, and they fell to the floor and came to his hands. He then proceeded to dress himself.
"No," Calliope moaned in protest, light particles spilling out of her mouth. "Don't leave. It was wrong of me to try that to you. You're not ready, clearly. I don't want you to leave yet."
Gamzee continued to pull his pants on, zip the zipper, pushed the button, which launched out to nip his thumb, through its hole, and did up his belt. He then sighed heavily, and slowly sat back down, reaching forward to take Calliope's hand in both of his. He kissed her slender, pale fingertips slowly, his half-lidded eyes on hers.
"I love you," he told her. "But I can't."
The walk home was difficult, but he had been used to it. Calliope was becoming a drug. She was his detox drug. It was because of her presence in his life that he could survive so easily, that he forgot about the difficulties, his own self-loathing, how pathetic his existence was. She was a ray of light in the darkness of his life. But he loved her for that. He couldn't give her the love she asked of him. He just couldn't.
Once Gamzee was wrapped up in his blankets, preparing to sweat out the slime, he closed his eyes and sighed heavily to slip into hallucinatory unconsciousness.
"You're not going there tomorrow," Terezi said, facing away from him. He had assumed she was asleep, and jumped slightly at the suddenness of her voice, and the fireworks which exploded behind his eyes when she spoke.
"Why," he managed to groan.
"Karkat's coming," Terezi said. "We're going to spend the day with him."
Gamzee opened his mouth to interject, but groaned and clutched himself tightly, knowing his protests would be pointless.
Terezi and Gamzee had spent the day cleaning the apartment, doing a line, washing dishes, doing a line, vacuuming or sweeping, smoking a joint, even starting food, and doing a line. By the time Karkat was due, both were rather stupid and laughing at nothing, the urge to go out and dance around the afternoon streets, almost unbearable. Gamzee wanted more, but he contained himself, for Terezi's sake. For the first time in far too long, he and Terezi actually enjoyed themselves, together, despite being under the influence of far too much drugs. They had a chance to sober up a bit before Karkat finally rung the bell, and Terezi pressed the button to allow him up.
The short boy picked his way through the begrimed building, to the elevator. A sign hung there that told him of the elevator's unavailability. He groaned audibly in annoyance, and went to the stairs, which hardly looked sanitary. The whole place smelt of urine and rot, and he wondered how anyone could survive here. He eventually got to the correct floor, and walked down the revolting hallway, passed rooms which sounded as though either a natural disaster was occurring within, or domestic abuse in practically every room, some clearly engaging in less wholesome activities behind closed doors (some of them not even fully closed).
He eventually got to Terezi and Gamzee's door, and knocked gently. He heard laughter from within it, before Terezi opened the door with a large smile. His face dropped when she looked at them. Terezi's clothes hung off of her and her face was sunken and void of life. She looked as though she worked incessantly for her survival, and squandered half of it on pointless substances. The bags under her eyes were thick, and he could clearly see them behind her red sunglasses she always wore. Her hair looked thin and her teeth didn't look as though they hadn't been brushed in far too long.
Behind her, Gamzee raised his hand, a joint (not containing weed) between his fingers. Karkat could have collapsed when he saw him.
Karkat and Gamzee had been together for a long time. They were first best friends, before feelings for each other began to grow, and in high school, they expanded to something far closer than friends. They were never physical with each other, and even towards the end of high school, they hardly made physical contact other than occasionally holding each other's hand. But their existence for each other seemed enough. Karkat kept Gamzee stable, and although Gamzee didn't often reciprocate (which was one of the main reasons Karkat hadn't allowed himself too close to Gamzee), he was still there for him whenever needed. Karkat remembered Gamzee as a loving, caring man. And what he saw, sprawled out on a beanbag chair in the corner of a room, was merely a shell of what he was.
His skin hung off of his bones. His hair was greasy and unkempt, and his face was sunken. The scars which ran down his face from the accident almost a year before, were prominent against his fragile skin. He was so skinny, and looked as though if you flicked him, he may dissolve completely, into sand, and blow away in the wind. His eyes were bright red and deep in their sockets, and the rings around his eyes, and heavy bags, were the only colour against his pale visage.
"Karbro!" he announced, before taking a drag off of the joint.
"Gamzee," Karkat replied, his voice shuddering.
Terezi's face fell when she noticed Karkat's expression of pure horror. Suddenly, sobriety returned to her fully, and she almost felt ashamed for letting Gamzee get that way. Karkat's expression reminded her of reality, and she swallowed hard, looking away from him. She wasn't sure why she expected him to open his arms and embrace the both of them, despite all they had done throughout the day, to make it look acceptable to Karkat. Of course he would react like this… Look at what had happened to the both of them. Look at what had happened to the man he loved.
"Karkat," Terezi said, softly.
"How," Karkat said, his voice quivering, staying low enough that Gamzee couldn't hear. "How did this happen."
"I didn't pay attention," Terezi said, replying in a quiet voice. "I cared too much about making him forget Tavros, that I forgot to notice what that was turning him into. I'm sorry."
Karkat looked to her, his expression almost apologetic. He sighed and nodded. "We have to get him better," he said. "I'm not leaving until he's better."
The first little while wasn't bad. Gamzee even wanted to stay home and be with Karkat when Terezi was working, which gave him hope that perhaps it was simply a by-product of loneliness. At first, both simply sat with each other, catching up, even gaming and taking the bus to the better end of town simply to get out of that house. Everything seemed fine, until one morning, around 5am, the withdrawals began.
Gamzee had thrown up the contents of his stomach, something which Karkat had a certain level of self-pride in even accomplishing, mostly on his bed, some in a bucket, and the rest in the toilet. Karkat sat with him as he wretched and wretched, heaving up all of his insides into the toilet. He stroked his back, shushing him, insisting he was okay. Afterwards, he curled up in a pile of laundry in the corner of the room with Gamzee, holding him tightly and easing him into a difficult sleep.
The next morning, Karkat made Gamzee a coffee. Things seemed alright, when Gamzee had a sudden mood swing, and tossed the piping hot cup of coffee at Karkat, causing it to smash against the wall, spraying hot coffee in every direction. When Karkat asked why he had done that, Gamzee made up some kind of excuse about it being far too hot or too bitter, and Karkat rolled his eyes, busying himself with cleaning up the mess.
There was another episode later in the day, when Karkat finished cleaning Gamzee's mattress as carefully as possible, when Gamzee simply began to start yelling, swearing, throwing various things and simply freaking out. When Karkat asked him what set him off, he slammed a door and shouted that he was just annoyed, and wanted to go out, but Karkat refused to let him.
Days passed, and it all only became progressively worse. Sometimes, Gamzee would lay in bed and shout, swear, writhe beneath the weight of his own agony, and Karkat would have to sit by and watch him.
It was a cold night when Gamzee finally slipped out from under Karkat's radar. The shorter man was sleeping on an air mattress he had gone out to purchase simply for the sake of watching over the other two, specifically Gamzee, but, as it was, it was the first night that Karkat had slept on something substantial, rather than a pile of clothes, or beside Gamzee. Gamzee plucked his way carefully out of the room, the ache for at least a dose of Sopor far too extreme to endure any longer. He felt like a volcano. His insides were lava, and boiling within him at temperatures his skin couldn't take. He felt as though he may erupt at any moment, and the constant shuddering and sweating was a sign that his skin was about to give way to the flood of lava from within him, and then there would be no repairing him – you can't fix an erupted volcano.
He didn't have the time or capacity to grab his hoodie, and, as it seemed, his ninja-like antics about the house, and the gentle closing of the door, was enough to keep both Karkat and Terezi asleep. He clutched his shaking body tightly as he made his way towards the Cherubs. Once he got to the rotting door, he lifted his knuckle to it, and rather than receiving Caliborn or Calliope at the door, he simply heard a very aggressive "enter" from within the home.
Gamzee was reluctant at first, but eventually entered. Caliborn eyed him, having already knew who was coming to his door, and crossed his legs on his sofa.
"Well, well, well," he sneered. "Look what the cat coughed up. Long time, no see, Gamzee. You look like fucking shit."
"I feel it, man," Gamzee replied, his voice shaking. "Terezi all up and had an old friend of mine come on down into my horror show life, and get real motherfucking incessantly asinine in fixing my shit. Ain't no shit of mine gonna be fixed with his motherfucking help, bro."
"So, I think I have an idea of why you're here," Caliborn said, standing slowly. "But I don't think I'll be able to supply you anymore."
Gamzee's skin went cold, and his heart raced. "Why?" He looked around himself, his brow furrowed. Calliope should have come running to the sound of his voice. "Where's Cally?"
"Dead," Caliborn said, looking down to his fingernails, and picking something out from beneath them. "Bitch offed herself last week. Tried to get a hold of you, but you were clearly preoccupied."
"Dead?" Gamzee repeated, his voice falling from his lips like a breath cut short. He clutched himself tighter, staring at the floor, his eyes wide. Suddenly, the lava drained from him, and he simply felt cold and empty. A pang of agony rushed through him at the sudden realisation that he allowed something else he loved, to slip through his fingers. His face once again became a candle, and melted wax tears pooled in his eyes, and escaped his face, rolling down his sweating cheek, mixing with his sweat and getting lost amongst his scars.
"Yeah, dead," Caliborn said, eyeing Gamzee with a small grin, clearly getting a level of sick satisfaction from watching his pain. "Downed a bottle of Xanax. Found her in a pool of her own puke in her bedroom. That was a mess…"
Caliborn's voice trailed off in Gamzee's mind. Gamzee was taking involuntary, slow, painful steps backwards in a feeble attempt to rid himself of reality. Eventually, he found himself pressed against the crappy door behind him, and he stumbled, causing it to open. He fell backwards into the streets, quickly crawling to his feet, and staring at the sweating world beneath him. He thought he heard Caliborn ask him if he was alright, though it was clearly an empty question which Gamzee had no intentions of answering. His head span. He felt like he was going to vomit. He needed a fix.
When Karkat found him the next morning, he was lying on the side of the street, naked, between the legs of some random, semi-conscious woman, who he kicked away. He then knelt down beside Gamzee, and sighed when he saw fresh track marks up his pale, slender arms, vomit in his hair, powder on his nose. Waking him was exceedingly difficult, and even when he was conscious, he wasn't fully awake. His eyes hardly stayed open, and his body was as difficult to hold as water without a container. He dragged him back into his apartment, and brought him to the bathroom. The moment Gamzee's forehead pressed against the porcelain of the toilet, his head stopped spinning like a top, and he wretched into the bowl.
Karkat sat in the bedroom, sitting on the corner of Gamzee's bed, his head in his hands, staring at the floor. After all the progress they had made. After all the effort both had put in, he relapsed even worse than he was before. Karkat couldn't do this. But he also couldn't abandon him. There was only one option: rehab. Karkat peered into the bathroom once everything seemed to go fairly quiet. Gamzee's eyes were half lidded, one more closed than the other, but the state of his consciousness was not clear to Karkat.
"Karkat," he eventually mumbled. Karkat knelt onto the floor, and leaned towards Gamzee to hear him better. Gamzee's eyes widened then narrowed, piercing directly into Karkat's gaze. "Get the fuck out of my house."
Karkat felt his heart drop into his stomach, and he moved away from him, not bothering to hide his expression of hurt, before clearing his thoughts and sucking it up, shaking his head. "I'm not going to do that, Gamzee. You've hurt Terezi enough, and I don't want to see her in pain any longer."
"Then you best be telling her to get the fuck out too," Gamzee snarled in reply, his voice hoarse, like a deep rumbling.
"Are you even able to fucking grasp all the shit we've done for you, Gamzee?" Karkat growled back. "Or has the scum you've been so lustfully injecting into your arm completely scrambled your fucking head. Terezi's given up her entire fucking career for your sake, and she feels like she's a failure. Like she was just another pawn you played on this all-engorging chessboard that is your fucked up addict life. But you wouldn't know that, because you're never fucking around."
"Fuck you, man," Gamzee mumbled. "You ain't been knowing shit."
"I know enough that you're letting one problem consume your entire life. You have to learn to let go, Gamzee. He's gone and he isn't coming back. He wouldn't have wanted you to let yourself get like this-"
Just as he was finishing his sentence, Gamzee launched himself off of the floor, out the door, and onto Karkat, slamming his hand into Karkat's neck, knocking the air out of him, and not allowing him to inhale. He began to panic, and grasped at Gamzee's arms, trying to free himself, but he was overpowered by the much larger, and despite the drugs, still much stronger man.
His voice came like a growling rather than an actual voice, and he spoke through his teeth, his breath wreaking of vomit, and spittle flying out from between his dry, cracked lips. His eyes were wild and red, deep in their sockets, surrounded by bags and darkness. Karkat coughed and scrambled under him.
"Don't you be fucking acting like you been all understanding the shit I been going through, motherfucker," Gamzee seethed. "You don't know shit what it is like to lose someone like that."
"Maybe not," Karkat wheezed under Gamzee's hand, tears streaming down the sides of his face. "But I don't want to find out."
Gamzee paused and slowly pulled his hand away, his eyes widening and sunken face dropping. Karkat rolled to his side, clutching his chest and coughing, gasping for breath. Once he seemed to recover, he slowly turned, and found Gamzee's face still fallen, watching Karkat closely.
"I don't want to lose you," Karkat continued, meeting his eyes to Gamzee's. "You piss me off endlessly, and sometimes I hate you. But I still love you. Despite all your fucking shit, I still love you. And I'm losing you. I hardly even know who you are anymore. You're some kind of superficial, hollow husk slowly dissolving in the wind. You aren't you, and I want to try to remind you of who and what you used to be. I can't abandon you when you're like this."
"But what if old me's gone," Gamzee asked, his voice low, but much less threatening. He simply sounded sad. "What if this gonna be the way it motherfucking be forever, bro."
"I know you're still in there," Karkat said, slowly reaching out, and touching one of Gamzee's long, slender fingers. "And I'm not going to stop searching you until you're healthy again, do you fucking understand me?"
Gamzee felt his eyes fill with burning, acidic tears. He hadn't felt anything in so long, but he felt this. He felt these tears. They broke through the broken, wax shell, and fell down his face, cutting through to what he used to be. Karkat's bottom lip quivered, and he reached out to wipe a tear away, but the moment his fingertips touched Gamzee's cheek, Gamzee lunged at him, sobbing heavily into Karkat's shoulder, wrapping his slender arms around him. Karkat sighed and shushed him gently, rubbing his back while he sobbed.
"I just miss him so fucking much," Gamzee wept.
"I know," Karkat sighed, gently kissing Gamzee's hair and shushing. "It's okay. You're okay."
