Everything was dark. She was clawing through the darkness, could feel it wrapping itself around her claws, her wrists, her ankles. Her head was screaming in pain. Where was everyone? She tried to shout, but the words stuck like glue in her throat.

'EQUIUS?'

The name echoed dimly in her mind, unfamiliar at first but growing sharper with recognition. Her moirail. Where was he? Where was Karkat, Terezi, Feferi? She would even welcome the sound of Vriska's shrill eightfold laughter. But all she could hear was the sound of her blood rushing in her ears, and Equius's name, sounding more lost and forlorn each time it resounded across her mind.

Her ears popped, and she knew that she was conscious once again. Not yet wanting to open her eyes, she shifted around, taking stock on what was hurt, and how badly. Her right wrist -OWOWOWOW- was broken. The shoulder it was attached to felt awful, but didn't feel out of socket or pulled. Her lower back ached, and the back of her head hurt sharply. Most likely a shallow cut with a massive bruise surrounding it. She sent a sad, silent thanks to her lusus for teaching her how to pay attention to her body and all its parts, an essential tool for a great huntress. Her heart gave a twinge at the thought of her companion, hunter and guardian, oldest friend. She twitched her head in a semblance of a shake. Now wasn't the time to think about the past.

She slowly blinked her eyes open, letting them adjust in the low, dim light.

The first thing that she saw was that there was remnants of blood. Everywhere. She could see it, smell it, taste it. It coated her tongue like ash, invaded her nose and clung no matter how shallowly she tried to breathe. What was worse was that it was different colors. She could see dark yellow, blues both deep and bright, dark brown, light purples. She wanted to bolt, to claw through the walls to escape the homage to carnage. Instead, she forced herself to lay still, to breathe. She quickly glanced away from the faintly multicolored walls, looking at something else, anything else. She saw a desk, cracked straight in half. A chair lay crunched nearby, almost unrecognizable. There were bits of what was probably more furniture, but they were so destroyed she couldn't make out anything specific. The word "HONK" and a clown face ":o)" decorated everything, floor to ceiling.

'I'm in Gamzee's room...' She realized, and tensed up instinctively. Her hunter's senses narrowed into razor sharp focus, and she slowly turned her head to the left. There, looking bloody, crazy, and more than a little terrifying, the thing that murdered her moirail was making his slow, loping way towards her. She let out a low, even growl. She knew she was too injured to attack, but she'd be damned if she left him get anywhere near her.

Gamzee came to a stop upon hearing the steady growl emanating from the injured troll. He reached a slow hand up to his face and began worrying at the lowest edge of his scratches, which had begun to scab. He put his other hand in his pocket to hold the horn, and waited. He couldn't help but shift his weight from one leg to the other, his frayed emotions swinging from concerned to angry and back again. He squeezed the ball end of the horn every two weight shifts, and looked steadily at the dark metal floor.

Nepeta watched him with careful, narrowed eyes. Her ears pricked at the small honks coming from his pocket. What was he doing? Shifting herself so that she could swipe with her good arm if need be, she cleared her throat. It burned horribly from being dry, and she had to swallow a few times before she could speak.

"What's in your pocket, murderer?" She drew her eyebrows together in a look of stern anger for when he finally looked at her. It took a surprisingly long time. She could hear the squeaks coming from his pants, an almost constant beat. He would frown as though furious, then immediately it would morph into an almost pitiful look of sadness and worry. She began watching him as though he was prey, catching each minute movement. Slowly, she came to a confused understanding. 'I know those movements..they're like when a hoofbeast gets cornered. That is so AGGRAVATING! How DARE he look so upset! He MURDERED everyone! HE MURDERED EQUIUS!' She let out a loud, furious roar and began screaming at him.

"What? What the hell is wrong with you? You should be ashamed of yourself! We trusted you! EQUIUS trusted you! I trusted you! You murdered everyone! Why would you do that? Why? You killed Equius! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT? YOU MURDERED ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS! FRIENDS YOU'VE KNOWN FOR SWEEPS! THEY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO YOU! YOU MURDERED HIM! FOR NO REASON! HOW COULD YOU? HOW DARE YOU!? YOU MURDERED MY MOIRAIL! I SHOULD KILL YOU! YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!"

She began swiping ineffectively at him as the tears began rolling down her cheeks. She didn't dare to get close due to his superior strength, but she needed to move in some way to express her rage, her despair. She sobbed for all the words that filled her mind but got stuck in her throat. Eventually she just put her face to her knees and keened, all the sadness and anger pouring out of her as she howled in anguish.

Gamzee took a half step forward before he could stop himself. He couldn't hear anything but her tear-filled screams, see anything but the way each jagged sob racked through her tiny frame. He never knew that someone so small could be so loud. He could feel his tattered heart crack into shards as he listened. Knowing that this strong huntress in front of him had been reduced to a sobbing puddle and it was his fault struck him to the core. If he hadn't snapped this wouldn't have happened.

His fault, his fault, his fault.

Slowly, he walked to her, crouching next to the pile of blankets. He picked at a rip in his pants, trying to find something to say that didn't sound like a jumble of nonsense the way everything did in his head.

"Nepeta...I..."

He didn't get any farther. The minute he spoke her head snapped up, eyes burning even as fresh tears fell. Like the crack of a whip she pulled back her good arm and punched him in the side of the head. As he rocked back, dazed from the unexpected blow, she scrambled to her feet. He stood as well, and backed up to avoid another hit. She marched slowly to the door, petite body unyielding as stone. Right before she opened the door to leave, she turned to face him. Gamzee wanted to melt into the wall under the force of her glare. They were like two black pieces of coal, and he forced himself not to quell under the heat. She spoke in a whisper, knowing that he could hear her from that distance just as she could.

"Stay out of my sight, Gamzee. Never come near me again. Or I swear on my moirail's grave, I will kill you."

He saw her leave, saw the door slide shut again. To him, he only stood there for a few minutes, brain failing at an attempt to process. The girl he had respected, the fierce warrior, the amazon-dwelling huntress, the adorable little chika that was always drawing on the walls, hated him with a passion he understood only abstractly. He had never felt that strongly about anything, the sopor always leaving him numb and foggy, the demon inside him giving him only senseless rage. He didn't know how to feel anything, not in the normal way. But as he watched the door, knowing he could never talk to her, never sneak up behind her to steal the piece of chalk as she doodled, he felt a deep sadness that made his knees buckle and his chest burn.

Suddenly, Karkat was in front of him, admonishing him for disappearing. He barely heard the warning to keep clear of Kanaya for now, the admonition for not taking care of his face. Distantly he felt the wet towel as Karkat cleaned off his wound, wiping off what remained of his juggalo paint. He let the angrily muttering troll pull his tired body onto the blankets, absently tugging Karkat against his chest as he burrowed close. Long after Karkat was asleep Gamzee lay there, staring at his sleeping moirail's face. No matter how long he looked he saw only hers, tight and furious.

He would keep his distance, or try to. He didn't know how long he could stand the unfamiliar emotions.

In the end, he might put himself in front of her, to have her kill him and end the torment his mind and heart were putting him through.