A/N: Bad author, worst updater!

I'm so sorry, guys! I keep forgetting to post this. But, yeah, this was kind of a difficult chapter to write for me, idk.

Pretty soon I should be posting a new oneshot in that oneshot thingy I'm writing, as well as one or two new stories on Archive Of Our Own. I go by the same name there, so it'll be easy to find me, if you want to read those stories (I hope you do, I'd be really happy)

But, you know. I'm so glad you guys are liking this so far! I honestly cannot believe that I have such lovely fans of the story c:

amzee ==

It was the day after Tavros had absconded in a hurry and the young man sat, fully dressed and his dark hair damp and clingy from the shower, in his bedroom. He looked around the bare space and his eyes locked on the instrument in the corner of the room.

It was high time his guitar was played again, Gamzee decided. He picked up the dusty instrument and slung it on his back from the strap, a smile filled with nostalgia spread across his face.

It was a birthday present from the brother that he hadn't seen in about six years. It was sent to the institute on his 13th birthday, along with a letter that he kept in the guitar case. He fished it out and flipped open the yellowing, dog eared letter.

'Dear Gamzee,

Happy birthday.
I'm sorry. I really am. But I can't see you for a while.
You haven't seen me since 'that day', right? I miss you, little brother. And of course, I do still love you a lot. The only thing is that I'm not going to be able to speak to you ever again.
I'll still write, of course.
But I think that your seeing me will scare you. I don't look so good.

Enough of that. Happy Birthday! I saved up for a while to get you this, so you better put it to good use and learn how to play. I think you've got a natural talent for creative shit like this. You're great at drawing and cooking (Almost as good as me ;o) ) so I can guarantee that you'll be just as fantastic at this, too.

Be strong, kid.
And ignore the voices in your head. They don't know anything.

Love Kurloz (Honk)'

He grinned sadly and refolded the letter, dropping it on the table. Gamzee sat on the couch and rested the body of the guitar on his knee, plucking a string. He winced as the string gave off a sour, odd note and he sighed, adjusting the tautness of the six strings. Once he thought that it was suitably tuned, he grinned and strummed a G, smiling at the pleasant sound.

"Motherfucking sweet." He chuckled, starting to play 'Moonlight Sonata'. It was, of course, a piano piece but the way it sounded on the guitar was nice. He quickly switched to the faster paced 'Spanish Romance', his grin melting into a peaceful smile as he danced his fingers along the instrument.

"I missed you, girl." He mumbled encouragingly to the guitar. The chords melded in together perfectly and Gamzee felt himself drift away into the music. It, other than his Tavbro, was the only thing that stopped him from wanting to do...bad things, to himself. Like cut his own wrists or the backs of his legs. He never went deep enough to kill himself, but at times he would be found on the floor of his room by the Institution's staff, passed out in a pool of his own rich red blood and still grinning, a razor gripped in one of his hands.

But now he didn't have a reason to do so- more like a reason to carry on living.

Gamzee stopped playing and frowned.
What did he do to make Tavros leave in such a hurry?
He even forgot his coat...
And Gamzee couldn't return it because he didn't know where Tavros lived. He made a face and began to play again.

A few minutes later, his cell phone started to ring. Gamzee was given a mediocre looking mobile by the ward he stayed in in case anything happened should they need to call him, or visa versa. He had wasted no time in giving his number out to Tavros and Karkat, pretty much the only two numbers in his phonebook, with exception to the institute.

His finger slipped on a string and he stopped playing, losing all urges to play, and he glanced over at the object chiming on the coffee table. Gamzee reached for it and flipped it open, bringing it to his ear.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Gamzee, its Rufioh, Tav's brother? Tavros has got a fever, because he left yours without his coat." A deeper voice replied, laced with annoyance.

Gamzee frowned. "How did you get my number, bro?"

"I found it on Tavros' cell. That's not important. He wants to see you."

"He does?" Gamzee asked, surprised. He stood from his couch and furrowed his brow. "So should I come over?"

"...Yeah, fine. Whatever." He made the impression that he wanted to say more, but the older Nitram simply told Gamzee the address and how to get there, and rang off. Gamzee pushed the phone into his pocket, scribbled down the address, and dried his hair, smirking half heartedly at the puffball his tangled mane had become. Within five minutes Gamzee was out the door, grabbing a coat and Tavros' jacket, and locking the door behind him. He waved a good morning to Dave, who was picking up the post (In a totally ironic way) and started off down the corridor.

The air wasn't as cold as it had been yesterday, Gamzee noticed, as he exit the apartment complex. He hadn't been out of the building in what seemed like forever, and he appreciated the crispness of the air as he inhaled it deeply. He turned the corner, kicking the melting, slushy snow. It was supposed to snow even more in the coming week, and Gamzee hoped that Tavros could get better in time so they could play in the snow. But he needed to worry about him at that moment, and make sure he got better.
Ten minutes of fast-paced walking later he arrived on the street that he was directed to by a very kind passerby, and he walked down it, looking at each house number for Tavros'.
Twenty seven, twenty nine...Thirty one!" Gamzee said to himself triumphantly, walking down the path that was gritted heavily with salt rocks.
He knocked at the door, rapping his knuckles on the surface and waited as he stuck his hands in his pockets. The door opened. Tavros' brother opened the door, his mouth a straight line.

"Hello Gamzee." He greeted Gamzee with the same solemn expression and Gamzee frowned. It felt like he was at a funeral or something. And funerals and mentally challenged asylum patients weren't really a good mix.
At least not in Gamzee's case.

"Hey motherfucker, how's Tav?" He replied, smiling as reservedly as he deemed possible.

"He's ill. Come in." Rufioh gave him a pointed, sharp look and stood aside to let him in. Gamzee swore he saw a trace of resentment in the older brother's eyes as he moved into the house, but he pushed it aside.

"Hey, so I take it he's upstairs-!" As soon as the door shut Rufioh pushed him against a wall, hand at his neck and choking off his sentence.

"Listen here, you little shit. What the fuck are those marks on Tav's arms, huh?" Rufioh glared up at him with narrowed eyes filled with anger and spite. He was slightly shorter than Gamzee, but he was probably twice as strong and could probably break his neck if he felt like it.

"I can explain-" Gamzee spluttered, attempting to pull the older Nitram's hand off of his neck.

"Oh yeah? Did a cat do it, maybe? Do enlighten me." Rufioh loosened his grip slightly and Gamzee almost sighed in relief.

"I did do it, but-"

"But what?"

"But I didn't all up and mean to! Tavbro is really special to me. I really fucking like him. He's special." Gamzee smiled, his face absent of the grin normally on his face. "It was, like, a momentary lapse or some shit, I hadn't taken my meds! I would never do that on purpose."

Rufioh's grip subsided- he looked like he believed Gamzee.

Eventually he let go of the taller's neck and turned away.
"He's upstairs, on the left. Don't do anything stupid. And if you dare do anything like that again, I'll see to it myself that you suffer for it." With that, the older brother left.

"Uh, no problem..." Gamzee replied apprehensively, and he started to climb the stairs, glancing at the family photos framed on the walls. He stopped to admire them for a moment.
A lot of them were of Tavros and his brother, as well as some of a man Gamzee guessed was their father. In one that caught Gamzee's eye, Tavros was about six, and was sat by the Christmas tree with Rufioh. He was a little chubby (puppy fat, Gamzee reasoned) and his cheeks were pink. He had a huge bright smile on his face, something Gamzee had never seen on Tavros.

What made him stop smiling like that?

Gamzee noticed that there were no recent photos of him. The oldest he seemed to be in photos was about ten. He shook his head and carried on up the stairs, turning to Tavros' room. He knocked on the door and waited.

"...Is that you, Gamzee?" A weak voice came from the room.

"Yeah, Tavbro, it's me." Gamzee replied. "Can I come in?"

"Of," A cough interrupted the younger one's speech. "Of course."

Gamzee pushed the door open and looked about Tavros' room. Inside the moderately sized space it was littered with all sorts of wonderful nerdy memorabilia that was more or less lost on Gamzee. In the corner of the room lay an average sized television, and plugged into it was a Game Cube and an XBox. To the left of the door was a bookcase, stuffed to bursting with books, from fairytales to textbooks. Posters covered the walls, fairytale creatures with colourful backgrounds and beautiful clothes. Tavros lay in his bed, a hand covering his forehead and a frown on his face. Pillows were bundles all around his legs, possibly to warm him up.

"Hey there, bro. How's my little motherfucker holding up?" Gamzee asked carefully, sitting gingerly on the side of the bed, far enough from Tavros that he didn't feel constricted but close enough so that it showed he cared.

"Oh, uhh, not so well? But, I'll be fine..." Tavros tried to move up into a sitting position but flopped down in defeat as he gave up. Gamzee looked on him poorly concealed concern.

"I'll all up and make sure of it. Did you want help up?"

"I-if you could..." Tavros asked weakly, smiling pathetically.
Gamzee moved closer and slid a hand behind Tavros' back. Even through the t-shirt he wore, Gamzee could feel the heat radiating off of his friends back. He placed another hand on Tavros' stomach and pulled him up, removing that one when he was certain that his friend would be alright.

"How's that?" He asked, placing his other hand on Tavros' shoulder. He smiled when the smaller nodded silently. "Miracles. You're really hot, motherfucker."

Tavros twitched and looked up at him in surprise, to which Gamzee raised an eyebrow.

"Ex...excuse me? What?" Tavros stammered, stiffening his arms under Gamzee's touch.

"I mean," Gamzee began, frowning in mild confusion. "That you're really warm. Maybe we should try to cool you the motherfuck down."

"Oh... Well, c-contrary to your belief, I'm very content with my body temperature, so thanks, but no thanks."

Gamzee made a face and shrugged. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"You can stay here, and keep me company. If you want to, that is."

"That's fine, sure." He grinned a little. "Uh, Tavbro?"

"Yeah, Gamzee?"

"Did I do something wrong yesterday? I mean, if you all up and motherfucking left in such a hurry, I must have done something wrong. Right?"

Tavros shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "No, no you didn't. It's just, uhh..."

"Just?" Gamzee raised an eyebrow again. "Just what?"

Tavros sighed, looking at his friend with his brown eyes. "What are those marks?"

"Marks. What marks?"

"The ones on your arms, Gamzee! Are you trying to," A cough. "Trying to kill yourself?"

Gamzee's face dropped and subconsiously he tugged his sleeves down. "I'd rather not talk about that, motherfucker."

"Why not!?" Tavros gritted his teeth, balling his fists up. "Am I right in assuming you do, then?"

"You don't understand! How would you feel, living with those motherfucking voices in your head, telling you to hurt people, and saying you ain't worth shit!? I bet you wouldn't last a fucking second, bro! You don't know what it's like, being different." Gamzee looked at the boy sat in bed, burning anger voiding into anguish as tears started to leak. "You don't know what it's like, wanting to be normal."

"...I'm not normal."

"Yeah you are! Sure, you ain't got much motherfucking confidence, but you got a brother who loves you, and friends who care about you, and-"

"I haven't got legs." Tavros interrupted, looking at his lap. Gamzee's brow furrowed in confusion.

What.

"Excuse me?"

"I haven't got any fucking legs."

"I don't know what sort of motherfucking joke this is, man. But I'm failing to see the punchline."

"Get off the bed and I'll show you."

"Really?" Gamzee replied apprehensively.

"Yeah." Tavros insisted, watching at the taller male stood reluctantly. "Just...don't think less of me, for it." With that, Tavros swung his legs to the side of the bed. Or, rather, his lack of them. His legs stopped just below the knee, ending at stumps above the shins. He pushed the shorts he wore up a little to reveal the scarred tissue around his knees. "I, uhh, I wear prosthetics? I got them just before summer. They're still pretty difficult, to walk in."

"Bro, you're..."

" I'm...sorry I didn't tell you. I'm a freak, I know."

Gamzee dropped to his knees and pulled Tavros into a hug, gripping the boy tightly and burying his head into the others neck. "No, no you're not, bro. You're the most perfect thing I've ever seen."

Tavros wound his arms around Gamzee's neck, resting his chin on top of his head. "You too."