AN: Sorry this chapter is so short! A good one is coming up, I purromise! 3


Nepeta awoke with a start, choking and coughing on the stale, foul- tasting liquid stinging her eyes. Was this... Faygo? She coughed and sputtered, rubbing her nose and snorting to get the grape- flavored soda out of her nostrils. Someone had poured it on her face.

The searing pain in her bones had diminished to a dull ache, and she winced only when moving quickly or too much at once. Were her broken bones healed? How long had she been asleep? Was it all a dream?

Nepeta took in her surroundings. She was in a small, dark, cell-like space. The walls and floors both appeared to be made of metal. One dim candle flickered weakly in the back, left hand corner of the room. It's light was so dim that it only illuminated the melted wax surrounding it. Nepeta raised her nose and sniffed the air. She could smell Faygo, sopor slime, and... blood.

From the front of the room, a set of half-lidded yellow eyes stared at her with interest. Nepeta hissed loudly, backing into the darker corner to the right. She tried to extend her claws, but found that they were missing. Damn clown. Nepeta bared her fangs and hissed again. Gamzee said nothing. A metal tin filled with green slime scraped against the cold floor with a metallic screech towards her.

Then, the eyes disappeared. She heard the echoing thumps of a body sliding into a vent, and the metallic screws of a grate being put back into place. Nepeta stayed put, eyes trained onto the vent to make sure he didn't come back.

Minutes passed in silence. She sighed and looked away, satisfied he was gone.

He was not gone. Gamzee was nearby in another vent, watching her intently from above.

But Nepeta couldn't have known that.

The olive blood rose and felt her way across the room, counting her steps. Each wall took about thirteen steps to cross. It certainly was a small room. As she walked, empty Faygo bottles hit her foot and rolled across the floor as she kicked them aside.

Nepeta leaned down to inspect the candle, which was no more than a wick sticking out of a volcano of melted wax. Gamzee must have lit it and kept it burning, because it was almost spent. The melted wax had glued it to the floor, and without her claws, she was armed only with stubby, nonexistent nails to cut the wax away.

After ten minutes, she gave up trying to free the candle.

Her eyes fell on the tin of slime. Just as she vowed not to eat it, her stomach let out a ravenous growl. Nepeta sniffed the pie. Bluh. Smelled like her cocoon. He wanted her to eat that? She was a ferocious huntress, not a juggalo. In defiance, she pushed the tin away with her foot to the far edge of the room, then did the same with the empty Faygo bottles. She would not give in. Curling up in a tight bottle, she huddled next to the candle in a futile attempt to remain warm.

Gamzee watched her try to sleep. He watched her try not to cry, saw her fail as tears stained the white wax, heard her shaking sobs.

And he smiled.