Tavros wheeled himself into the living room, feeling the carpet tug down his wheels, having to push on the wheels harder to move. Karkat looked up at him.

"Glad to see she didn't disembowel you, Tavbro," he greeted. "Congrats. Besides your survival, how'd it go?"

"She, uh, she let me help her out." Tavros replied. Karkat raised his eyebrows.

"Really? How'd you manage that?"

"I had to argue with her for a little while. But she fell down, and after that, she let me, help her. She fell asleep after a little while. I left the things you gave me in her room." Tavros said.

"It's weird that she would even let you in her room without her throwing something at you. Is she ok after falling?"

"She's fine. But she looks really sick."

"That's because she is. But with you helping her out, she won't be for much longer, hopefully." Karkat groaned, lifting his arms above his head. "You should probably go get something to eat, Tav. We all got something while you were helping Vriska out."

"I'll go with him," Gamzee volunteered. "C'mon, motherfucker, let's go to the kitchen."

Laying in his bed later, after eating, laughing, and dropping some 'strict beats' with Gamzee, he thought back to Vriska. He was honestly still intrigued by her; why she had seemed to hate him, why she had stopped taunting him, why she had become so distant from him after she stopped bullying him. It was a mystery, and it only made him curious about her. Now that he was taking care of her, she seemed to speak with him fine, despite being so distant up until now.

She was on his mind as he fell asleep.

The next day, he pushed the door to Vriska's room open. "Vriska, are you, ah, awake?" He asked, wheeling himself over to her bed.

"No," came the muffled reply, the voice thick with sleep.

Tavros set down a new thermos with hot broth down. He figured the other one had gotten cold, though the crackers from last time weren't a problem. He had brought a bottle of water for the rag, as well as for Vriska. Broth was good, but she would need water too. He lifted himself onto her bed, reaching over to touch her shoulder.

"Hate to wake you up, Vris, but you really, uh, should eat something." He said, gently nudging her. She groaned, pulling her blanket over her head.

"Go 'way. I don't need a babysitter."

Tavros rolled his eyes, feeling mildly irritated. Were they gonna go through this routine every time he came in? "I know that if I leave, you're just gonna go back to sleep. And you really do need to eat. So I'm not leaving until, uh, until you eat something."

She groaned, peeking up at him from under the covers.

"I'll let you go back to sleep after, ok?" He said, offering her a small smile.

She shoved off the covers, sitting up. Her hair was worse than yesterday, getting matted in some places. She was starting to break out; probably from not being able to get up for long enough to take a shower. She glared at him as he looked her over.

"Don't. Say. Anything. I know I look like shit already," She huffed.

"You don't look like shit, Vriska, you just look like you're sick." He replied. "You hungry?"

"Yeah."

He reached over, pulling out a sleeve of crackers. She took it, as well as the thermos he handed her. He observed her as she ate; or, while she tried to. She did alright with the crackers, she had trouble with opening it, but she ate them alright. The broth was another story. She could barely open it, having trouble just as she had with the cracker sleeve, her fingers seeming more stiff and clumsy than usual. He offered to open it for her, but she just growled at him, holding it out of his reach. She got it open, lifting it to her face.

And promptly spilled it all over herself as it nearly slipped from her sickness-clumsy hands.

"Fuck!" She snarled, and Tavros reached out and took the thermos from her quickly, before it spilt more. Or before she threw it across the room, as the look on her face suggested she might well do. He set it down, taking up the cloth he had used for her forehead, handing it over to her. She pressed it to her soaked chest, growling to herself.

"This is bullshit. I probably look like a little kid, huh? Oh, wow, look at that idiot, spilling food on herself like a child. Let's film it and post it to YouTube under the title of "fucking idiot". I hate this. I'm not a kid, I'm not weak, I shouldn't have to put up with this bullshi-" The explicit was cut off with a strangled noise as she jerked her head away from Tavros, facing the far wall.

"Vriska, are you alright?" Tavros asked. She didn't reply, her shoulders drawing in on herself. He gently, but firmly, took hold of her shoulders, turning her towards him. She struggled against him to keep her back to him, and though a sweep ago he would have never been able to turn her around, he had gotten stronger. He pulled her toward him, and her hands went up to her face, her breaths quickening, shaking her frame. Tavros stared.

"Vriska, are you crying?"

"Fuck y-you." She said shakily behind her hands, before breaking down in tears.

Tavros didn't really know what to do with a crying Vriska. He hadn't known Vriska could cry; she had always seemed unbreakable, seemed to have god-like strength. Like nothing could ever get her down. But yet she sat before him, crying into her hands.

He reached over to her, pulling her into his arms. She pushed against his chest with her hands, but her fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt as she did. He had no intention of letting her go, anyways. He rubbed her back with one hand, the other resting on the back of her head, petting her tangled locks. He quietly murmured to her, his head over her shoulder, close to her ear.

"Hey, it's ok, Vriska. Shh, it's alright, it's alright."

"-te this." He looked down at the quivering girl in his arms.

"Hm?"

"I HATE THIS!" She shouted, shoving him away. "I hate being clumsy, I hate being coddled and babied! I hate that I spilt that fucking shit on myself!" Tears still flowed down her cheeks, and she dropped her face back into her hands.

"I hate feeling weak." She choked out, quietly.

He reached out and touched her shoulder, unsure if he should embrace her again. She jerked away.

"Don't touch me. I don't need your 'platonic pity'," She said harshly.

He sat for a moment, looking at her as she glared back, struggling against her tears, slowing her breathing from sobs to normal, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve.

"Vriska, do you hate me?" he asked quietly.

She looked up at him, open shock on her face. It melted into shame quickly, and she looked down as she started to speak.

"I don't hate you, Tavros. It's just…it's really complicated, alright?"

"You can talk about it with me if you want," he offered. Her eyes flickered up to his face, uneasy and unsure.

It was a look he'd never seen on her before.

"I-I don't – I'm not sure if…"

"It's ok if you don't want to," he said, and she nodded. "But I'm always here if you want to talk about anything, ok?" Another nod.

"You better now?" He asked.

"Yeah." She replied, her voice still a little rough, but controlled now.

"That's good," he said, giving her a smile. "Let me help you get cleaned up, 'kay?"

She looked away, biting her lower lip, seeming to debate the answer with herself. After a moment, she turned her gaze back to him, offering a small, hesitant smile with her reply.

"Okay."

Catz: This chapter is prompt, huh? I couldn't wait to post this shit, for once.

This chapter flowed a lot nicer; was easier to write. I'm starting to like this story a lot~

Leave a review, beautiful people reading my story! AN out~