At Fault: Chapter 7
The next day on his way to school he was still reasonably cheered up, which was quite a rare thing since he could almost be called solemn when he was on his way to school (solemn for Tavros anyway, he was, in general, never a brooding sort of person. Or at least he tried not to be), even more so at the message he received from Gamzee just that morning. He wasn't sure why he was so pleased by it, but his eyes were bright and the small upwards arch of his lips confirmed a smile. Gamzee was such an overly nice person he was certain they would become friends. Whether he meant the intense kindness or not, it didn't really matter to Tavros. He appreciated anybody being nice to him because it was usually so rare. Simple things tended to cheer him up, like a message saying 'you'd never annoy me, bro'. Again he thought of it, and again a wave of relief washed over him.
A person like him simply needed the reassurance that his demeanor wasn't aggravating to other people, which in his mind it tended to be. It was obvious from the way his peers and his family treated him. Not only his father, but on rare occasions when he was visited by his grandfather, aunts and uncles, he could hear the scorn in their voice and practically feel their eyes burning the back of his head. They weren't to be blamed though, he knew that. It's what he was always taught.
His dad pulled up to the curb in front of the school and Tavros thrust open the car door, posed to push his wheelchair out when his dad sighed dramatically and turned towards him. Tavros halted in his actions and looked back at him curiously, "I really wished you'd wipe that smile off your face." His father merely stated.
"W-why?" Tavros asked, a little surprised.
"I mean, I just don't understand. Help me understand, Tavros." He sounded like he was generally trying to comprehend what was ever muddled him. "How can you have a smile and be happy as much as you have been, knowing you killed your mother. I mean, doesn't that hurt you? At all? You've had that stupid smile on your face all morning. It's a little annoying, and I frankly am just wondering, why are you possessed to smile right now?" By his tone it was impossible to know whether he was trying to purposely hurt him or he was sincerely confused.
"I-I..." he wasn't sure how to answer, "I guess I wasn't thinking a-about it..." Thinking about how he killed his mother wasn't one of those things he liked to keep on his mind, even if his dad was good at reminding him of it.
His father blinked slowly, a look of disgust creeping up his features. "Just leave, Tavros." He finally dismissed. He turned away as if unable to stand the sight of his own son anymore.
Tavros did so. He pushed his wheelchair out of the car and unfolded it. He clumsily slid into his wheelchair and slammed the car door closed. The car sped away the second the door clicked shut and he was left in a wisp of exhaust.
As he wheeled up the sidewalk, perhaps it was just his paranoia, but he noticed bizarre looks from a nearby group of students. They weren't exactly hiding their staring either, even when he glanced over and returned their gazes curiously. He recalled often got the same looks in elementary school when the other children were afraid of his nubby legs. They would stand in groups on the other side of the playground and just… stared at him and avoided him as if he had some rabid disease; as if not having legs was a sort of virus that they could get by being in close quarters with him. Granted it obviously wasn't true, but they were children, and their gawking was nothing they hid.
Of course back then, this lack-of-legs thing was new to them. These days the children that teased him immaturely on the playground had grown into teenagers and have gotten used to seeing their old classmate without any legs. It was a natural reaction to insult him when they could,
but their staring at long gave way to giving him the cold shoulder. So why were they staring now? Why did they look at him like he sprouted candy-corn colored bullhorns and his skin turned gray? It was something perplexing, and it only increased throughout the day and progressed with each passing class period. Stares of curiosity, disgust, surprise and even disbelief. It was a strange mixture of emotions across his classmate's faces, and his own inquisitiveness about the whole thing grew. If he was less of a timid person he might have approached one of the students and asked them what was up. Well, he supposed he should use to strange stares by now. Even though he was perhaps slightly bothered by it he went about his daily life at school.
Tavros found out later that day, however, just why people were paying special attention to him (and not in a good way). He was on his way to lunch after class he suddenly found himself confronted by a group of students. They practically encircled around him and towered over him.
"God damn you're such a freak." A girl sneered.
Tavros flinched, I already knew that.
"We heard about your mom." A boy got right down to it, "Did you seriously kill her?"
Then his blood felt like liquid ice flowing rapidly through his veins and spreading to the tips of his fretfully quivering fingers.
The same boy scoffed, "How fucking messed up is that?"
One of them cast a dark look to her friend, "Why is he even here? Shouldn't he be in an asylum?"
"No. I bet it's because of his legs." one of the guys said. "Make people feel sorry for him or some shit."
Another guy chuckled dryly, "What legs?"
The group snickered cruelly while Tavros avoided their scrutinizing gazes and instead looked at a rather interesting place on the floor. It wasn't really that interesting but what else was there to look at when he was facing such social pressures?
"I always knew he was kinda freaky, and not because of having no fucking legs," One of the girls spoke again, fixing Tavros with an almost scared look but talked about him as if he weren't there, "I mean just the way he looks at people. Have you ever noticed his eyes? They look like an animals or some shit… It's fucking scary."
"Should be in a god damn asylum, holy fuck!" The first boy snorted.
One of the guys smirked and faked being scared in an obnoxious manner, "Oh god, oh no, he's going to kill me!"
The group burst out into a roar of laughter that made Tavros visibly flinch.
One of them leaned in, "What did you do, huh? How'd you kill her?" he asked dangerously.
The image of his mother flashed in his head. She was happy. She was smiling widely, and her eyes were generous. She whispered words of comfort and patted his messy hair. He remembered her kindness was always very warm, but a memory never left that same warmth. And then there was a honk, a screech, and the truck collided with his family's car. There was a scream; it was a woman. His mother. She was wailing for her beloved, wailing for her son and unborn child that would never see the light of day. He could hear it vividly in his ear as if he was there in that car ten years ago again. The air was thick was the smell of burnt flesh and blood, and his ears were full of the screams of terror. Yes, he remembered exactly how he killed her. He was begging for to go to McDonalds. She had to get off the highway exit early. He begged. Begged. For what? For a toy. A toy. Just a toy.
Yes, that's how he killed her, and his unborn sibling, and destroyed the whole family he had loved.
The group gave a few last jabs before sauntering on their way, being sure to knock down Tavros's book-bag on the way. Tavros didn't care about the bag though; he let it fall to the cold floor. He was staring at particularly nothing and thinking about the words that were thrown at him. His fingers were trembling violently, as was his arms from the accusations. These are the things he had heard his father say to him every day. It had already been engrained in his head since he was young; he knew it was his fault and that he was a freak. Tavros knew this; he just wished sometimes he could get over it.
But Mom can't get over being dead, so why get over being her murderer?
These words were like a twisted and sick form of déjà vu, only they weren't spoken from his father's tongue but from his classmate's and his own mind. As if they needed more reason to taunt him incessantly.
He fought tears as, with quaking hands, he made his way to the cafeteria. The crowd within that large room was roaring with unrecognizable words and laughter. He could feel eyes on him as he frantically looked around for Nepeta. He needed her words right now, and her ability to make him feel comfortable.
But she wasn't here, no matter where he looked.
"Hey, kid." He felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped in moment terror. Glancing up he noticed it was some teacher he didn't recognize. The teacher was looking back at him with eyes of surprise and worry. "You okay? You're crying." He asked.
Tavros put his finger to his face and felt his cheeks. Sure enough warm tears were trickling down his cheeks without him even realizing it. He had been crying without knowing it. He really wished Nepeta were here right now, or even Aradia. Anyone, really. Anybody he could trust would make him feel better.
"I-I gotta go," Tavros struggled to say before wheeling away. He was out of the cafeteria within moments and in the abandoned hallway; arms moved quickly as he wheeled his chair down the hallway in search of something.
That something happened to be a bathroom. He really, truly, hated school bathrooms. He remember so often when he was younger that he would be cornered in the bathroom and have his bookbag taken and thrown into the girl's bathroom. One time it wasn't just the book-bag that was thrown into the girl's bathroom, but so was he. Luckily the kid's that did it got in loads of trouble, but 9-year-old Tavros was devastated and embarrassed from it to no end.
The thought left him as he wheeled into the largest stall and just sat in his wheelchair. Alone. Only the drip of a leaky faucet echoed across the halls, and the very distant roar of the cafeteria. He just needed somewhere to sit and let his silent tears fall in private.
Or so he thought it was private.
He heard the quietest patter of feet before hearing a familiar, slurred voice, "...You need a motherfucking tissue or some shit?"
He hitched his breath, "n-no. I'm f-fine."
There was quiet for a few moments before he spoke up again, "Any reason a brother is locked in a stall, at school, crying?" his voice drawled out.
Silence. Tavros didn't want to answer. His stomach was doing uncomfortable flips like an acrobatic because he simply felt worse than before. His mood had dropped into the dirt. Now somebody was worried for him. Somebody was going out of their way to feel sorry for his situation. In a way it was nice, but more so he felt overwhelmingly guilty. Tavros was the sort of person that didn't like having people worry over him, even though it was usually rare anyway. It's not like his father tried to go out of his way to sit down and say 'hey, my son is feeling terrible, better be sympathetic.' It just didn't happen, and Tavros always told himself he was okay with that. He didn't need people to fret over him or to show him any overwhelming sympathy. But… When someone stood there and asked what was wrong, it was an overwhelming sense between relief and blame. His eyes were glued on the Gamzee's purple converse peeking out from under the stall door. They showed he never left, didn't even move.
"I-is this your lunch hour...?" Tavros asked quietly. He hated the thought of depriving Gamzee of a meal or that he was absent from a class he should have been helping teach.
"Doesn't motherfucking matter," Gamzee replied, "When a bro needs me nothing else matters. That's how I motherfuckin' roll."
"T-that's alright-"
Gamzee broke him off with an almost frustrated voice, if that was even possible, "No, brother, you're all up in the bathroom all crying and shit. At school. No motherfucking way I'm leaving you until I know you're all fucking smiles and rainbows."
More silence. Tavros contemplated for a few more minutes before deciding to leave the litter sanctuary of the stall and face his friend who was still hovering right outside the stall's door. He unlocked the cheap metal lock and pushed open the door.
"Oh man motherfucker I said smiles and rainbows, not frowns and tears."
Tavros glanced away, "...S-sorry."
Gamzee grinned in response before replying properly, "C'mon bro let me see that adorable as fuck smile."
Heat flowed into his cheeks and he stuttered a bit on reply before just cracking the best smile he could manage in his terrible mood.
"That's my motherfucker!" Gamzee smiled lazily as he patted Tavros's shoulder in a comforting manner.
Wow his cheeks felt hot, and not because of the dried tears. Blood flowed to his face a lit it up like a light bulb, and without a doubt Gamzee could see it. If he did, however, he gave no notice; maybe just an amused twinkle in one of his eyes gave away his observation.
"Wanna talk about what happened?" He offered kindly, his tone a little more serious.
Tavros thought about it and decided no. If he did tell Gamzee about what happened, he'd have to tell him what they were mocking him for.. That was the last thing he wanted. Gamzee was the last of people he wanted knowing about what happened in his childhood, how he killed his own mother that way.
If he knew what if he thought I was a freak too? Tavros felt a pang of fear strike him. Gamzee couldn't know; he could never know. Tavros was determined to keep him ignorant to it.
"N-no that's okay." he finally mumbled.
Gamzee offered him another lazy but authentic smile, "Alright. I'm always up for listening, Tavbro."
Tavros nodded, very much thankful of that.
"You sure you're motherfucking okay…?" Gamzee asked again, his voice maybe just a little suspicious. "Because if you're sure you're alright we should probably return to class here soon… Don't want to get into motherfucking in trouble, yeah?"
Tavros quickly pulled out his phone to check the time. Wow, he hadn't even noticed the time slip through his fingers, Lunch hour would be over in only a few minutes.
"Yeah okay..." He agreed as he shoved his phone back in his pocket. "S-sorry if this was any trouble..."
"Trouble?" Gamzee asked with a hint of surprise. "No motherfucking trouble at all."
Tavros couldn't believe that. Tavros simply couldn't believe Gamzee thought that this whole thing wasn't inconvenient for him. He just spent the duration of his lunch hour standing outside a bathroom stall and listen to some pathetic amputee sob to himself, and then in the end never find out the reason why. Any person should have been frustrated, irritated, and calling him a nuisance with no backbone. How he got sympathy from someone he only recently met, and have them sincerely mean it when they say 'it's not trouble' was impossible for him to comprehend, and he simply couldn't believe it was genuine.
But when he glanced up at Gamzee, who was so tall but unintimidating, who never really showed vivid emotion but still smiled back at him and actually mean it, who had actually offered sympathy and didn't mock him, it was a strange emotion that rushed through his veins. It sort of reminded him of the feeling he first had when he had met Nepeta; that same friend feeling rushing through his limbs and making him feel so wanted and not a burden- except- it was stronger this time.
Together, the two headed out of the bathroom in unison and headed down the hall side-by-side. Before separating to head to their different classes, however, Gamzee stooped down and gave him an awkward hug around the shoulders before languidly waving goodbye and ambling down the hallway.
Tavros still felt a sort of tingling as he turned and went to his class.
Okay maybe it was going to be an okay day.
Thank you to my editor, ~Listlessdark 3
And to all the lovely reviewers and favoriters and... alerters?