That night, Gamzee passed the smoking pipe to Tavros, and as he watched the long plume of thick, white smoke disappear through the pipe, he thought about the physiotherapist's words. She was paid to remain optimistic, and that's what kept people returning to her for assistance in recuperation. However, he knew that there was no guarantee on Tavros's recovery, and the chances therefor were too slim for even the most glass-half-full thinkers to outright claim. As Tavros coughed softly, and passed the pipe back, Gamzee returned to reality, and accepted it, before looking down to the tiny ember dying within the bowl.
"Tavbro," he said, slowly, before taking another hit. One Tavros's eyes slowly met Gamzee, and he stuck out his chin in acknowledgement. Gamzee held the toke for a moment, before exhaling slowly and setting the pipe aside. "You really been all up and thinking about your recovery?"
"You mean walking again?" he asked, curiously. "Yeah, I guess I have. I mean, I know the chances probably aren't great, but I'd still like to have something to look forward to. I kinda consider this a blessing, I guess. It's sort of taught me how to live life differently, to appreciate the shit you have, to remain optimistic in the face of difficulty, even when everyone else around you is doubtful."
Gamzee's reddened, glazed eyes stared at him for a long moment, questioning his optimism. How could he be so positive about something for which the chances were exceedingly slim? How could he possibly consider his situation, his disability, a blessing? It's ruined his ability to walk, it's hindered him from countless things, it's-
"Plus, it's brought me closer to you," he said after a while, his large, glossy, brown eyes meeting Gamzee's.
Gamzee's breath evacuated his lungs. He slowly smiled and looked away, nodding, before lighting the pipe once more and taking a long hit. He passed it to Tavros, static developing between their hands as they nearly touched. Gamzee felt himself wanting to grab Tavros's wrist, to pull him towards him, to kiss him hard and endlessly, but he pulled away and swallowed hard, running a hand through his messy hair. Perhaps it had been a blessing for the both of them. If it hadn't been for the accident, the connection that developed between them, may have never happened. Tavros and Gamzee both valued the friendship that developed, and although the relationship seemed fragile and confusing at times, it was still something which made life more than worth living, for the both of them. Who knows the kind of depression into which Tavros might have slipped, without Gamzee at his side, assisting him, keeping him positive and reinforced?
Gamzee's life, on the other hand, would have stayed simple. He could envision himself slipping through life, as though on a life raft, drifting endlessly through the sea, smoking, working, loving, learning, losing, living. It seemed too easy, despite being what he always wanted. He had a new dream, now. A new will. And he couldn't simply abandon it. He leapt out of the life raft and dove into the ocean, swimming with the creatures – harmless fish and deadly shark alike.
"I think my legs are cramping," Tavros announced, passing back the pipe. "Do you think we could do a quick session?"
"Sure thing, bro," Gamzee groaned and dripped out of bed. He laid out the mat, followed by Tavros himself.
Tavros sighed as Gamzee gripped his legs and moved them upwards, already improving their circulation. He moved one leg in large, circular motions, and Tavros kept his breathing steady, as he had been instructed. He then followed with the other leg, his fingertips slowly falling down the length of his leg, watching him closely. He exhaled sharply and went through a few more basic exercises, before bringing both his knees upwards. He slowly leaned his weight against them, and Tavros closed his eyes, exhaling slowly at the feeling of the cramp finally being worked out of his legs and back. Despite not being able to feel it in his legs, his back and what he could feel, felt it tenfold, not to mention the excruciating phantom pain.
As Gamzee leaned downwards, his face came closer to Tavros's, and he found himself locked in place when Tavros's eyes opened once more, and met Gamzee's. A throb ran through the both of them at once and Gamzee's breath caught at the sound of Tavros swallowing hard. Slowly, he parted Tavros's legs, and laid them down on either side of Gamzee's, his hips pressing against Tavros's, causing Tavros to inhale sharply. Slowly, he bent his head downwards, his eyes not leaving Tavros's, until they slowly closed as their lips finally met.
The kiss was slower, less frantic, a cautious step towards satisfying the incessant ache that had been boiling within the both of them. Gamzee heartily tasted Tavros's mouth, sucking at his lips and tongue, wanting nothing more to savour the flavour of him endlessly. Tavros's arms reached upwards, and shaking hands slowly entangled themselves in Gamzee's hair, lost in the thick abundance of blackness. He could feel Tavros's fingertips against his scalp, and chills rose on his arms and back from the feeling.
He was reluctant to part from him, but it wasn't for long, as he looked down at Tavros, his eyes tight upon those large, milk chocolate, still-glossy eyes. Slowly, he removed his shirt, bearing his gangly figure, thin and lean beneath the masses of clothing he usually wore. Tavros reluctantly lifted a hand, and softly, his fingertips felt over Gamzee's skin, down his chest and stomach, stopping at the waistband of his pants. Gamzee's breath caught again at the feeling of his hands, and he couldn't help but shudder. He hadn't felt a touch like that in far too long. Terezi was always frantic, and there was no passion. Karkat and him had never ventured this far. There was something in the way he touched him, the way he felt him and explored him with his fingertips. He yearned for this. He ached for it.
His teeth rested against his bottom lip, and, gently, he pressed his hips harder against Tavros's, prompting a soft whimper from the younger's parted lips.
"You feel that?" Gamzee breathed, to which Tavros nodded in reply.
"I always have."
Gamzee slowly grinned and plunged down once more, kissing him harder, deeper, relentlessly. His hands wandered down and played with the fringes in Tavros's clothing. Tavros arched his back, allowing for Gamzee to pull off his shirt. He didn't hesitate in running his long-fingered hands down Tavros's smaller figure, unable to keep his own hips from betraying his desire to move slowly, by grinding against Tavros's. A small, high-pitched moan escaped Tavros's mouth beneath Gamzee's, and Gamzee felt his arms grow weak. There was no denying that both were already throbbing with agonising desperation, and neither felt like taking their time.
It had been slow, though loud. Both had been completely lost in each other's overwhelming pleasure to monitor their volume levels. Gamzee had never felt anything as magnificent as being inside someone so deep, so passionately, and he knew he nothing else could ever compare. Tavros, meanwhile, had been completely innocent to the action, and thus the slow motion Gamzee developed worked well with him gradually growing accustomed to it. There were places where he felt nothing. But deep within him, where Gamzee most often was, he felt everything, and it was enough to make his entire being ache in the pleasure. He gave everything, willingly, to Gamzee, and he knew he would never ask for it back, even if he could have it. Gamzee couldn't help but watch as Tavros's eyebrows furrowed and mouth dropped open with each thrust, his expression contorted into pure pleasure until Gamzee's own visage matched it.
Afterwards, they laid beside each other on the floor, Tavros fully in Gamzee's arms, as both took the time to catch their breath. Gamzee's fingertips slowly traced up and down Tavros's shoulder, and Tavros clung to Gamzee so tightly, as though he was afraid he would blow away in breeze of Gamzee's breath. Gamzee couldn't help but kiss Tavros's head, his eyes slowly closing, the exhaustion from the event, and the vast satisfaction allowing him to drift off into unconsciousness, Tavros in toe, as usual.
The next morning, Gamzee received the call that his father was not expected to last the night. Tavros insisted upon joining him to return home, but Gamzee insisted that he continue his studies. Regardless of Gamzee's evident negativity towards Tavros being with him, the former couldn't imagine Gamzee being alone during the inevitable circumstance. He had taken both Gamzee's large, slender hands in his, and looked up and directly into his eyes, vocalising his persistence and his reasoning behind it. Gamzee smiled through the misery and eventually agreed to have Tavros join him.
The following two days were horrid. Gamzee introduced Tavros to his father, who was constantly slipping in and out of a drug-induced coma, which was far better for the pain. Eventually, the doctors asked Tavros to leave, and he was told to wait in the waiting room. Gamzee held his father's hand as he felt his life slip away, each ragged breath coming out slower and slower until no inhale followed. Gamzee pressed his forehead against his father's cold hand, silently saying his final farewells. After a few minutes, he left the room, and shuffled down the hallway. Tavros wheeled himself out of his parked place in the waiting room, and sat at the end of the hallway, watching Gamzee, his face low and invisible behind the endlessness of hair.
Tavros risked a small vocalisation. "Gamzee?" he softly said.
Gamzee took a few more steps towards Tavros, before collapsing to his knees, his head falling directly into Tavros's lap, where he audibly sobbed, clutching the numb legs tightly. Tavros couldn't help but weep silently at seeing this much emotion in the man he loved for the first time since he knew him. There was nothing he could do or say, except be there for him, hold his head in his lap, stroke his hair, and softly coo to ease the pain.
A wake was held, without a funeral, a few days afterwards, and Gamzee and Tavros stayed in Gamzee's childhood home, where his father had resided. He sorted out his various affairs, before standing, coldly, in the early summer air, around an urn which held the particles that remained of his father, before it was lowered into the ground. Tavros sat beside him, watching as it happened. Beside him, Gamzee looked like a stood like a scarecrow in the breeze, cutting through it like a blade, a razor of blackness, a mere silhouette. A shadow.
The return home was long and silent. Gamzee smoked a great deal of his botanical best friend when he returned home, sitting alone on the low-hanging tree branch, the soft quacking of the ducks not even being enough to comfort him. He was stumbling and murmuring when he returned to the dorm room, and Tavros didn't speak to him as he collapsed in his bed, unconscious mere moments later.
In the middle of the night, Tavros was awakened by Gamzee slowly crawling into the bed behind him, and clutching him tightly. He smelt heavily of marijuana, but it didn't phase Tavros. He grabbed Gamzee's hands and brought them around him, holding them in both his, closing his eyes, adoring the feeling of Gamzee's breath against his neck, despite being shallow from so much time spent crying. He knew that the gesture was Gamzee's silent way of thanking him, and he accepted it fully.
It took Gamzee a few days to recuperate from losing his father, but eventually, he had learned to accept that the man had lived a good, decent life, and Gamzee was prepared to work towards letting his spirit go. Both knew that Gamzee would never fully recover from the tragedy, but acceptance was a good step towards feeling fully like himself once more. His father had fought a long battle, and perhaps Gamzee knew for a while that it was inevitable. Nevertheless, Tavros had never left the other's side, and the nightly cuddles while Gamzee, in stoned stupors, babbled endlessly about fond memories of his father and him became fewer and farther between, reverting into simple cuddles and soft kissing.
Exams were now merely days away, and that would be the end of the semester, both men returning to their homes – or whatever was left of Gamzee's (predominantly the family pets – two, green snakes which had been in his family since he was a young boy). Tavros had made Gamzee promise that he would visit as often as possible, and he would attempt to do the same. Gamzee had merely kissed him softly and made, yet again, another promise, none of which he had broken yet.
Each day was spent in their usual routine, with the added benefit of kisses before class and stealing long kisses behind walls when no one was looking. Each night was spent in pure bliss, and they were beginning to suspect that the rest of the building was gathering on what was happening behind their closed door. The word of their coupling was taken rather well by their friends, though most seemed to have been anticipating it.
"We shipped you!" Nepeta purred. "You were my OTP! Besides me and Equius, of course." Whatever that meant.
Everything seemed to be going rather well, until things got exceedingly better. After a physiotherapy session, most of these now spent with Gamzee leaning on Tavros's legs, and Tavros reaching his head up to kiss Gamzee's lips softly, and repeating this with each exercise, Tavros groaned from incessant cramps he was feeling, despite the extensive physiotherapy. Gamzee had done everything, from massaging his legs, his back, to straightening them and putting stress on them constantly. He had no idea what to do to help the predicament, but Tavros was clearly in distress. He sat back and elected to smoke a bowl with Tavros, while they contemplated a plan, if the weed itself didn't cure the pain first. While he lit the pipe, he heard a gasp come from Tavros, the likes of which could only be compared to a woman's gasp while her baby was falling off of something rather high. He practically tossed his pipe as he attempted to realign himself and tend to the issue.
"Look," was all Tavros said, his eyes near perfect circles as they looked down to his own legs.
Gamzee's eyes followed, tracing slowly down Tavros's legs, before stopping at his feet. He furrowed his brow.
"Bro I ain't seeing shit," he commented.
"Just," Tavros said loudly, silencing him. "Watch."
After an agonisingly long moment of nothing particularly happening, Gamzee huffed and sat back, raising an eyebrow. Perhaps he felt something or saw something that didn't truly transpire? Just as Gamzee elected to stop the silence before Tavros could get his hopes up too much, something did happen. It was so small, and so insignificant to those who took it for granted, but as the light shone through the window onto Tavros's numb feet, the significance if the tiny action was the important in the world. Slowly, his big and second toes in each foot, wiggled.
"Do you see that?!" Tavros asked, frantically.
Gamzee practically leapt off the bed and squatted down to Tavros's feet, watching in awe.
"I been motherfucking seeing that shit bro!" he shouted.
Both then began cheering and laughing excitedly as the small motion persisted. Gamzee launched himself at Tavros, and wrapped his arms around him, kissing him hard in celebration. Tavros couldn't help it as tears fell down his face, and Gamzee held him tightly enough to suffocate him. Seconds later, there came a knocking at their door.
"I don't give a fuck what you two are doing in that smoke-filled, brothel of a room, but cover make yourselves at least somewhat decent, and let me the fuck in," said Karkat from outside.
Gamzee lunged at the door and pried it open, before laughing loudly at the sight of his best friend, and wrapping his arms around him, spinning him in a circle. Karkat cried out in protest until Gamzee placed him back on the ground.
"They's movin'!" he exclaimed. "Tavros's motherfucking toesies, bro! They's on the motherfucking move!"
Karkat relaxed slightly and crossed his arms, grinning. "I guess that's as good news as any," he remarked.
Gamzee cheered again, before declaring that a celebratory luncheon was in order. Tavros's stomach agreed audibly, and Gamzee helped him into his chair, before wheeling him out of the building.
It was a cold evening when Gamzee and Tavros had a final exam that happened to fall on the same night. After their exam, they agreed to meet in front of a local restaurant to celebrate the end of term. They had been asked to go out with a few friends, but both elected to spend the evening with each other. Tavros was the first to arrive at the street corner, clutching his jacket to himself as he looked around in the darkness, the world bathed in the yellow street lights. A few strangers from the school idly crossed the otherwise baron streets, and Tavros felt eerily alone, a feeling which did not last, as a small vehicle slowly pulled up the street, stopping in front of him.
He wheeled his chair backwards, reluctantly, keeping his gaze low and attempting to escape the bright, white lights which fell upon him. The vehicle drove fully in front of him, and a window slowly rolled down. He couldn't see into the darkness of the car, but he didn't put much effort in, as he merely attempt to escape the sight.
"Tavros," said a voice, which made his blood run cold. He swallowed hard and slowly lifted his head, looking to the car. Please, no, he said to himself. Not her. Not now.
"Vriska," he reluctantly uttered.
"I heard about your accident," she said, leaning her face towards the open window to get a better look at her ex-boyfriend. Tavros kept his gaze away, but he could still feel her piercing gaze penetrating him, chilling him to the very core of his entity. "Sorry to hear about it."
"What do you want," he said, as more of a demand than a question, the shakiness of his voice betraying his attempted severity.
"Don't be such an ass," Vriska replied, coldly. "I was in the neighbourhood. Figured I'd see if I could spot you on campus. Looks like today was my lucky day."
"I'm waiting for someone," Tavros mumbled.
"I heard that too," she grinned. "A guy, right? I guess I always had the hunch. Does he make you happy?"
"I'm not going to answer that, Vriska," he said. "Now, if that's everything, he should be around soon."
"Yeah, of course, sorry for keeping you," she said, before beginning to pull the car away. Just as Tavros managed to exhale a deep sigh of relief, the white lights on the back of the vehicle switched on, and the car began backing up towards him again. "Actually!" Vriska said, leaning out the window once more. "On second thought, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, Tavros. How fucking dare you!?"
"Vriska, I don't want to do this now," he said, and he began to wheel his chair away from her, down the sidewalk. Vriska, relentless as usual, followed with her vehicle, closely beside him.
"No!" she called after him. "I don't fucking care what you want to do! What the fuck gave you the right to leave me like that? I have done nothing but care about you, and you fuck off one day without so much as a goodbye letter? A kiss on the cheek? A 'gee, Vriska, thanks so much for the memories!'?"
As she babbled on, Tavros approached the end of the block, the other corner down the street, where lights marked an intersection. He knew she wouldn't follow him into the middle of the intersection, but he could be fast enough to wheel his chair beyond the traffic to escape her wrath, before the light changed. He didn't listen to her as she went on, not paying attention to the road, the landscape, the on-coming vehicles.
Tavros stopped suddenly at the end of the intersection, frowning at the thought that he hadn't made the light to cross the street and be rid of her. Vriska, meanwhile, had her eyes on Tavros as she came to the light, already having anticipated Tavros's plan. Tavros quickly turned his head, suddenly aware of how forward her vehicle was, deep into the intersection, and the on-coming traffic was too fast to come to a complete stop. He called out her name, but it was too late.
It all happened in slow-motion. The front of her car was too far into the intersection, and an on-coming pick-up truck slammed head-on into it. The sound of the pick-up's horn was a slow moaning as it came to Tavros's ears, and he watched, his huge, bright, brown eyes wide, as the front of the pick-up swerved in an attempt to miss Vriska's vehicle, which span towards him, to face him fully. His eyes illuminated as the bright lights of the pick-up truck gazed back at him. Before he knew it, the grill of the truck ran into him, and he was trapped. It attempted to stop, but Tavros was already pulled beneath it, crushed under the weight of the tires.
There was no pain. No bright lights or tunnels. Just sudden resounding silence. And that was it.
Terezi stood in horror from down the street, as the pick-up truck drove onto the sidewalk, and ran over the small figure of Tavros. She couldn't see it, but she could hear it. The squealing of the tires, the colliding of metal upon metal, the horn. She didn't know who the victim had been, but the man beside her, holding on to her arm, told her. Not with words, but with a sudden stiffening, before uttering a blood-curdling scream. Suddenly, he was no longer at her side.
Gamzee's vision blurred as he sprinted towards the body of his lover. His legs gave out before they could reach the vehicle fully, and his screaming was already being strangled by sobbing. He could only repeat the same one syllable over and over again: "No". His body ached and shook uncontrollably, his mind trying to rationalise what he had just witnessed. There was no way it could have been real. There was no way he just watched the man he loved being crushed beneath the weight of a vehicle. He managed to find Tavros beneath the wreckage. He was tangled in his own chair, inhumanly, like clay being moulded around a metal frame. His head, bleeding profusely, was laying on the ground, and Gamzee held it in his hands, laying it in his lap, screaming miserably, soaked in Tavros's blood. He looked down to him, and pressed his lips to Tavros's, uncaring about the blood drenching his own lips.
"No, no, no," he sobbed. "Please, God, no. Tavros. TAVROS, NO!"
Gamzee refused to let go of Tavros's head as the ambulance came and carefully untangled the body from the wheelchair, and the vehicle under which it was pinned. It took two men to drag him away. At first, he wrestled and screamed incessantly, slicing his face against blade-like, metal debris from the grill of the pick-up. His own blood ran down his face, mixing with Tavros's at his chin and lips. Eventually, however, he went limp, dead, cold. Numb. Thoughts refused to come to him. Simply darkness. Endless darkness. His mind clouded over and emptiness consumed him, like a starving void, yearning to taste his flesh, his consciousness, his emotions and senses. Everything. Trapped behind a thick smoke screen, consuming him, blinding him, deafening him, devouring him.
After that, Gamzee was just never the same again. He turned to sobriety. He snapped when people came near him. He lost all of his friends, and burned every bridge. Karkat had been his only comfort for a while, but eventually he pushed even his best friend away, or began to use those who tried to approach him. He was practically murderous, at times, and was seen as something to avoid. He was dark and unfeeling. He was broken far beyond the chance of repair. But he embraced this empty life, taking it in like the scars upon his visage from the grill slicing into his skin – three sharp lines, diagonally down his face – so everyone would see his pain, deep-seeded within himself, blossoming into the deepest, darkest, all-consuming emptiness.
Gamzee Makara was a hollow boy, who couldn't scramble back onto the life raft – a dark boy, drowning in endlessness, in an ocean which suffocated him with life. But despite everything, things just started becoming a little funnier, until he saw the hilarity in the meaninglessness of existence. He would swim through this endless ocean, constantly drowning in darkness, but he would laugh and laugh and laugh, because everyone else was just a bunch of suckers. Everyone else would kneel to him in understanding, once the fragility of life came into question. And although he was being dragged down to the bottom of the world, nothing could keep him down. Because when you go through life as a clown in a circus, performing tricks and acrobatics for the amusement and continued existence of others, what's the point in allowing yourself to fall to the pits of the void? Why not embrace the darkness? Lift out of it? Launch yourself onto the trampoline and break free from the circus tent ceiling. Because when a clown so high that he cannot see the ground, and he becomes addicted to feeling that way, you really cannot keep down the clown.