Ahh, well, change of plan. Originally this was to be a one shot but I was asked to write about what happens afterwards so I thought I'd give it a shot, from gamzee's POV. This isn't a 'compulsory' ending; just one take on how it could've gone so feel free to discard this part if you don't think it works. Still one more part to go now in this extension. Thank youfor all the lovely comments! Enjoy
There is a moment, when Tavros' body is limp and splattered with shades of indigo and brown, that He sits back to bask in the smug satisfaction he has wrought from the person you hold so dear. In that moment you strike, moving fast and shoving him out of control of your body. He fights obviously, but you've managed to catch him off guard and though he bites and spits you succeed in pushing him back into the dark spaces at the back of your head; to shove the door closed on his matter and lock the door. You then crush the key and melt it into an unrecognisable mental lump for good measure. He yells and hisses at you but remains there.
You can feel yourself settling back into control of your body; feel it spread to the tips of your toes, your fingers, your horns, and realise that you've curled up with your head clutched in your hands in that momentary struggle with Him. You double check, triple check that He is safely blocked away in the back of your head before sitting up and turning to face the crumpled body of Tavros.
He is beautiful in his defiled state now as he always is; his slim body spread out on the cold metal of the floor. You crawl closer and stare at his face. Now, even in unconsciousness he looks sad, as if the traumas he's seen follow him everywhere, even into his dreams. The fringe of his too-long Mohawk is covering his eyes and gently you brush it from his forehead, to reveal the soft planes of his face; the curve of his jaw; the small, upturned point of his nose; long, dark lashes settled on the smooth arch of his cheek which are streaked with drying tears; the smooth expanse of his eyelids. His mouth is slightly open and his lips plump, though obscured by brown blood from where he'd bitten through the skin. You swipe this blood from his lips in the same way you did to his shaggy hair and feel so much hatred; not for him (never for him) but for yourself; your weakness and stupidity, your…other half. This other half rears his malicious head and whispers straight into your heart
OOOOOHHHH, he coos, did someone hurt poor little Tav?
You snarl at him but He takes no heed
Look at that common muddy bloody across his lips, DOESN'T IT DISGUST YOU? He snickers, no, of course not because it's beautiful, just like him
He sighs, a wistful sound and continues even when you hiss at him to be quiet
He put on a marvellous show, didn't he? So much SQUIRMING and ARCHING and CRYING, so hot and tight and soft, DEFENCELESS AND PATHETIC.
At this you yell at him, clench your fists so hard that the nails draw blood from the palm of your hands
ShUt Up! RiGhT NoW! YOu KnOw NoThInG oF bEaUtY!
He just cackles before retreating into the back of your head again, leaving you panting and bent over Tavros' body. Your eyes follow the sweeping column of his neck to the hollow at its base and the teeth marks that mar the soft juncture just above his collar bone. You catch a sob as it rips up through your throat and yank your eyes away from the bloodied flesh. You remember the way you'd kissed him and the way that he'd relaxed into your arms and leaned into the kiss and smelt and felt so uniquely like Tavros. Yet you also remember the way the other you had roughly pulled his head back and the way your (no, His) fangs had sunk deeply into Tavros' skin, the way he'd gone rigid with shock and cried for you (no, for Him) to stop.
You can see bruises on his arms and on the small bony protrusion of his hips; finger shaped marks that match yours perfectly. On his waist and hips he also bares long scratch marks that swell with his brown blood. These marks adorn his chest, scattered here and there; one across a nipple, the other crossing the small dip where the end of his ribcage meets the soft of his belly. Another follows the concave in his skin were his body goes from abdomen to sudden rise of hip bone and this crosses down across to the inside of his thigh. Between those supple thighs is a mixture of colours; the brown of his blood smeared over the inside of his legs and gathering in the link between flesh and the metal of his legs, dripping slowly onto the floor- blending with your rich indigo.
You don't manage to stop the next sob that racks your body and you stare at his hauntingly beautiful figure with stinging wetness gathering in your eyes. You unclench a fist to reach up to his smaller hand that had been thrown limply out to his side and tangle your fingers with his.
You want him to wake up so that you can check that he is going to be alright.
No, you want him to stay asleep, at peace in his dreamland; so that you don't have to see his eyes open and stare at you in fear and hatred.
You know that he will hate you; Tavros, who could never hate anyone, even if, like Vriska, they went out of their way to cause him misery. Of course he will detest you, after all you'd (no, He'd) done to him- not even Tavros' heart was big enough to not do so and you think that your heart, which is already clenching tightly within your chest, will surely break into a million pieces. What is life with Tavros? Without his laughter and his shy smiles, his not-so-sick beats and his crushing self-consciousness. You'll never get a chance to tell how he really is a miracle, to tell him to not let people walk over him, to be there and protect him when they try because the moment his eyes flicker open you know he'll want to be as far away from you as possible.
Of course you don't blame him.
You blame yourself. You blame Him.
US, he says
You tell Him to shut up. He does, but only for a second. He contemplates your words for a second before starting up again
I see what's in your head, I KNOW. He pauses - I've been here all along motherfucker, watching you STRUGGLE and FIGHT feelings. He was clueless, PATHETIC and clueless. You knew he wanted you, I KNEW HE WANTED YOU, but he was WEAK, a STUTTERING MISERABLE MESS.
You yell at him. He carries on regardless.
I just did what you wanted -DID WHAT WAS NEEDED, took what was rightfully OURS. He has no place being on equal grounds with us; his face forced against the floor and his hips up in the air is where he should be, WHERE HE DESERVES TO BE
You bury you head in your hands and yank at your hair. He has no physical control over you but his words twist like a knife in your heart
I know you enjoyed it motherfucker, KNOW YOU FELT WHAT I FELT, SAW WHAT I SAW. Remember how he called out for you, screamed for you to come back? WHY DIDN'T YOU, MOTHERFUCKER? WHY NOT? Because you wanted it, needed it like I did, don't try to FUCKING PRETEND OTHERWISE.
Of course you remember his crying out for you and just before He had forced himself in you'd knocked him loose and yelled for Tavros to run. He'd tried, struggled with those legs that refused to cooperate but before he could get anywhere He was back in power, sending you reeling back into the depths of the prison within your own head. He taunted Tavros before pushing and parting untouched flesh, making him tense and scream and arch like a bow, only succeeding in pushing you (Him) further in to the tight, hot bliss of his body. How could you forget that? It will be forever seared into your brain; that moment of pure ecstasy clashing with your desperation and Tavros' cries.
You struggle to resurface from the haunting memory and shake your head vigorously, as if somehow that could throw Him from you. He is silent again, watching through your eyes as they once more turn to gaze upon Tavros, who whimpers quietly in his sleep. You reach for your trousers which lay in a crumple at your side and pull them on before reaching for your t-shirt. You don't pull it over your head; instead you use it to gently wipe the blood of Tavros' body, starting at his bloodied neck and working your way down, dabbing carefully at the cuts, trying to clean him up as a best as possible. You tenderly wipe the mixture of colours away from his abdomen, crotch and thighs, skimming lightly in between his legs and over his arse and rubbing at some of the drying blood on his metal legs.
You reach for his shorts but they are torn badly so you settle for wrapping them around his hips instead and tying a knot with the legs. You slide an arm under his knees and the other goes to cradle his shoulders before you stand up, lifting him from the floor. He is worrying light and curls up against your chest as you turn to the door. His hands move to rest against your bare chest, one curled against your ribs, one directly above your heart.
You carefully make your way over to the darkened entrance, out of the flickering bright lights that the screens emit and try to ignore several things at once; firstly His malicious whispering that echoes and buzzes in your head like an angry horde of bees and secondly the two bodies you pass on the way the door. You know one is Feferi, who you didn't kill, and the other is Eridan, who you did.
Once out of the door it is harder to ignore Sollux's body, which is sprawled on the floor in a puddle of mustard yellow blood. You are briefly tempted to check if he is alive but Tavros is more important; if he's alive than he can wait a little longer in unconsciousness, if not then it doesn't matter. You step around him and carry on through the dark corridor, straining your ears for any sounds other than your footsteps and your breathing, the latter of which blends with Tavros' small breathy sighs. You follow the twisting passage till it opens out onto the roof where you gently lay down Tavros and use your bloodied shirt to cushion his head. He winces when you put him down and clutches you before his hands fall limply down.
You sigh as you look at him but make your way over to the crumpled heap that once was Vriska. Her eyes are still wide and staring, her neck twisted at an impossible angle and her fists still clenched at her side. For all her big talk and vicious actions she still whimpered quietly when you (He) had her in a death grip and you could see her chest heaving and her body shaking. You remember how in her final moment she'd turned to look at Tavros, and you remember how angry that made you (Him) - how dare she look upon him!
You know you enjoyed killing her, THAT SPIDER BITCH. Easy, so easy. GONE NOW. She's gone forever, never to hurt him again He croons happily at this and you know what he's thinking; he loves to hurt Tavros, but he's His (Ours) to hurt, no one else's, Ours (Mine),all Ours (His).
You lean down and pick her up, non-too gently but she's gone now and can't complain. You carry her to the edge of the cliff that she was going to push Tavros off and your anger swells and pulses within you and you feel like killing her all over again.
Slow down
Deep breath
Calm yourself
Calm yourself so that you aren't overtaken and controlled once more.
Feeling sufficiently calmer you ignore His laughing in the back of your mind and simply throw Vriska's body off the edge, watching as her broken body twists and arches in her descent. You wait for her body to be swallowed by the darkness, and then wait some more till you here the distant thump of it hitting the ground and only then do you turn back and return to Tavros' side. You crouch beside him and wonder what you will do now, where will you go, how will you survive, how you'll carry on without Tavros besides you.
Suddenly Tavros moans and one of his little hands spasms slightly before lifting up to his face and rubbing at his eye- you are completely still. He frowns beneath his hand and his eyes flicker open and stare ahead. He looks down at his half bare body, covered in scratches and bruises and frowns a little harder, looking upset. His lower lip juts forward and he then turns his head, to look right at you.
He jumps in fright and scrambles sideways, his eyes wide with fright. The fear in his eyes is killing you and you reach a hand out- to touch him, to pull him close, to hold him. He flinches away from it and whimpers
'p-P-pleASe g-GamZeE, n-no moRE' he pleads and that hurts even more; you feel as if your windpipe is being crushed and your heart wrenched into pieces.
'No, TavBrO, iT's Me, PlEaSe' you whisper back at him, almost inheriting his stutter when your tongue doesn't make the right shapes.
His eyes are wide and he seems frozen. Liquid gathers in the corner of his eyes and threatens to spill over as he searches your face.
'G-gamZee?' he stutters, still unsure.
A tear slips from your eye and Tavros' eyes follow it as it drips over your cheekbone and down your face to fall from your jaw.
'PlEaSe' you utter again, hoping so hard that maybe you'll get another chance.