Chapter 1: When It Rains
"Now, draw it again, but this time with more mother fucking blood and guts hanging out," Gamzee prompted with a maniacal laugh as eleven year old Tavros sketched his teacher being cut in half by a minotaur. It was one of the finer things that he had inspired the kid to do over the years, if he didn't say so himself. Tavros let out a soft chuckle as he continued to draw, adding more gore as requested. Though he never actually directly answered Gamzee, the boy was usually very sensitive to the muse's suggestions. With a swipe at the fall of dingy looking black hair falling across his face, Gamzee pulled himself up onto the edge of the desk so that he could get a better view of Tavros' work.
They had been together for six years now. Six beautiful fucking years. Gamzee had never been happier, and he wasn't exactly making shit up when he said that he didn't think Tavros ever had been either. The kid was a mother fucking miracle. There was a bond that ran between them that was near rock solid. And it was more than just a muse's influence on an artist. It was like the kid really saw and heard him some times. When Tavros was seven, he'd been convinced that his stuffed bull, Tinkerbull was talking to him. He had some of the most interesting conversations with the toy that Gamzee had ever heard of. The parental Nitrams almost had a fucking fit over that one. Now, Tavros only talked to Tinkerbull at night before bed, but the little chats never failed to make Gamzee smile.
The bell rang and the kid hurried to put his books away before darting for the door. He was almost there when Mr. Mervin—Pervin-Mervin, as Gamzee called him—called Tavros to his desk. "Mr. Nitram, please come here and show me your notes from class," the douche commanded.
"Stupid ass, mother fucker," the muse scoffed as they made their way to the desk.
Tavros reluctantly pulled the notebook out of his bag and handed it to the teacher. Mr. Mervin adjusted his glasses over his crooked nose as he rifled through the pages. The second his eyes found the most recent addition his face turned bright purple and red with rage.
"What do you have to say about this?" he demanded.
Lowering his head like a whipped puppy, the boy just shrugged and stared at his worn sneakers.
"I am calling your mother, and we'll see what she has to say about this."
The pair ended up sitting out in front of the principal's office. Gamzee was practically laying half in, half out of of the chair beside Tavros watching the child color the white spaces on his Converses with a purple Sharpie. Most of the time, Gamzee just let the kid go. There wasn't much fucking work required. Unlike most mortals, Tav-bro had real imagination. He saw the world as a wide open place with possibility everywhere. It was almost like the kid realized that there was more out there than just the little fucking cubical that most mortals were stuck in.
"Mom's gonna be really mad at me," Tavros muttered to no-one in particular.
Gamzee pulled himself up straighter and frowned. "For fucking sure, little man."
The boy sighed heavily. He looked so damned dejected that Gamzee actually felt like a tool for egging him into drawing the fucking picture in the first place. Guilt wasn't something the muse was used to—it was a human construct, not something that immortals could be bothered with. The feeling was heavy and not at all fucking welcome. He touched Tavros' arm, and the boy leaned into the "feeling." It was a small comfort, but one that he felt he owed the kid.
The door swung open and Tavros' mother walked out with the principal beside her. Neither one of them looked real fucking happy. Mommy-dearest's eyes locked with Tavros', and the kid slunk lower into his seat. The lecture started the minute the principal was out of earshot and continued the whole way across the parking lot to the family car, a black minivan that reminded Gamzee of a hearse in a way. Tossing himself in the backseat beside Tavros, he leaned his head on the window and let the sound of the pouring rain drown out the bitching.
A thunderclap above sounded and broke Gamzee from the trance-like state he had put himself in trying to tune out Tavros' mother. He frowned and muttered to himself about that damned show of Zeus. None of the other immortals were really among the muse's favorites. Since...well, since forever, Gamzee had been treated like an outcast even by the other minor muses. He certainly didn't need the mother fuckers, but it would be nice to not be treated like a complete ass-hat sometimes when they crossed paths. Frowning, he wondered why he was even thinking about the immortals. And then it hit him. As a muse, the influence worked both was. Someone was out there.
Sitting up quickly, his eyes scanned the sidewalks frantically. He knew there was another one around somewhere. His kind didn't usually appear unless bad shit was about to happen. And then he saw them. Three hags standing on the street corner with a long strand strung over their hands. Fuck!
"Stop the car!" he cried out.
Tavros frowned. "Mom, can we pull over?"
"Why, honey?" she asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. She didn't see the truck coming into her lane
Centuries usually flew by like minutes to an immortal, but that next second seemed to move like an eternity. Gamzee launched himself across the backseat and covered Tavros with his body. It was a foolish stupid gesture, and he knew it. He was nothing more than metaphysical energy. Around them glass shattered and metal tore apart like paper, but Gamzee held Tavros tight until the car slid to a halt on its side. Letting go just enough to get a look at the boy, he saw that somehow, he had actually been able to guard the child a bit. Battered and bleeding, Tavros was still alive unlike the woman whose mangled remains were in the front seat.
Brown eyes fluttered open, staring right into Gamzee's. "You an angel?" the child rasped.
"I'm Gamzee," he managed to reply. "I'm your muse."
"Oh," Tavros said as he slipped away into unconsciousness.
For years to come, Gamzee swore he could still hear the sirens in the back of his mind, could still see the emergency workers desperately trying to pry Tavros from the wreckage, but what really haunted him was the woman who stared smugly at him all the while. Vriska's lips were curled into a grin so darkly triumphant that it chilled him to his bones.
"Well, even I can't believe that you managed to fuck up this royally," she drawled. "Only the mother was supposed to die, you know. The boy would have been relatively unharmed."
His heart caught in his throat as he saw the EMT's loading Tavros into the ambulance. "We're losing him!" one of them called out.
"No!" Gamzee screamed. He tried to run toward Tavros', but found he couldn't move. Whipping around, he caught sight of one of the Fates standing next to Vriska with a silver strand in one hand and her scissors in the other. Instantly, he realized what was about to happen.
"Gamzee Makra you have interfered with the hands of Fate," Vriska pronounced gleefully.
He didn't have time to protest before Fate's hands snipped the line. It was all over.