Fus ro dah!
*shouts chapter in*
Yo. Well. My excuse? Skyrim. And Gotham City Impostors. And Tumblr. Basically, video games and Internet. I know. *goes sit's on Anders' box of shame*
Seriously, though, thank you all for the ongoing support for this fic! I mean really. I honestly didn't think people would be into fluff involving a bot and a paraplegic boy. But there are weirder things in Homestuck...
Now without further adieu, 3000 words of pure fluff.
Tavros had a very long day.
After his week of absence, his father thought that it was time for him to go back to school. The boy had little to say in the matter, so, with some resistance from time and hygiene, he tediously made his way to the droning learning facility. It was just as he remembered, long, boring and no one spared him a second glance, even with his extended leave. During his lessons, the mohawked boy grew crestfallen at the familiar routine, cringing at the ticking of every clock in the room. What is it with this country's fascination with clocks? He smiled, though, when his drifting thoughts landed on a certain clown bot, and the events that transpired the night before. And with that the day seemed to go a little faster, in hopes that the boy could see the grinning steambot at the fountain.
Fate, however, seemed to have different plans, in the form of his father nearly scaring him to death when Tavros left the school. Grabbing the handlebars to Tavros' chair, much to the boy's displeasure, his father rolled him to the richer side of town, away from the fountain, with a grin on his face. "I'm taking ya to the barracks," he explained. "You don't need to be cooped up in the house all day, so I'm gonna show ya around." Translation: There's a chick I wanna woo, so I'm going to use the whole 'disabled son, good dad' bit to get her. Tavros groaned, unnoticed by his dad, willingly letting his father push him to their destination, eager to get this over with.
It's reasons like this why it's hard to convince people that he's not a bad father.
The 'tour' wasn't bad, nonetheless. There wasn't too much to see, but it was still fun. Tavros saw the woman, a normal foot soldier as far as the boy could tell, his dad was trying to swoon, but she brushed him off with a cold shoulder. Tavros chuckled, and his dad threatened to ground him. Surprisingly, his dad kept true to his word and continued the tour. The soldiers were nice, a few of them even ruffled the boy's mohawk (which was incredibly unnecessary and uncomfortable), and steam bots ran around carrying various weapons and parts like it was doomsday. Tavros even got to see an Imperial steam flier, which made the boy gawk for a good few minutes. He made a mental note to tell Gamzee about this.
The trip ended abruptly, however, and on a nasty note. When he and his father headed back, another soldier, one of a bulky build and dark crazy hair, called out to Tavros' dad. At first he ignored it, but the second call almost made him jump out of his skin. When the mohawked boy turned around, his father was already addressing him, fiercely. The first thing the boy noticed on the warrior was the messed up face-paint and he reeled back in his chair in response. Few words were exchanged between them before the big soldier took off, chuckling. When his father made his way back to Tavros' chair, the boy could tell he was fuming.
But he saw that familiar glint in his eyes before his father sent him off. The boy cringed. They do not make walls thick enough.
It was late in the afternoon when Tavros raced to the square, worried that he might have missed Gamzee. But sure enough, when he got there the bot in question was perched on the edge of the fountain, absentmindedly juggling. It was too late for any real spectators and anyone who passed barely gave him a second glance. As soon as the bot noticed the boy, he got up, put his orbs away, and approached Tavros, and before the mohawked boy could offer an apology or an explanation for his delay, the clown embraced him tightly, hoisting him from his wheelchair. After a few moments, Gamzee put him back down and lethargically strode to Tavros' handlebars, rolling him up out of the less-than-busy square, starting up small talk along the way.
And the boy let him, with a smile.
"I think, my dad is… hinting toward a career, in the, uh, military."
Gamzee turned his head away from the dove cages in front of him to give Tavros a skeptical grin. "Really, bro? You don't really up and look like the motherfuckin' 'run and gun' type, Tav." The bot chuckled a bit at the last part. He wasn't trying to offend, especially with his choice of words, but just to make a simple observation.
The boy shrugged, slumped over, arms crossed, over one of the nearby tables in Gamzee's backyard, watching the bot as he feeds his birds. "I-I know, but… When he showed me around, the, um, barracks he talked about the place, like, he built the barracks, and the army, by himself. With pride." Something the boy wished he had at least a little of.
"Maybe the brother just likes what he motherfuckin' does," the bot chimed as he grabbed some more feed.
Tavros shrugged again, "Maybe…" he settled, not arguing with the bot's logic. In the corner of the boy's eyes, he saw the bot pouring the last of the bird feed into the little bowl in the cage and closed it, watching as the little white birds scrambled around in the cage to their dinner. The clown then made his way to the mohawked boy, silently pulling him away from the table. Next thing the boy knew, he was being lifted from the chair by Gamzee and the clown laid the boy on the not-so-green grass, the steam bot following next to him. As the clown snaked an arm around the boy, the said boy flushed deeply and chuckled. He didn't mind any of this. Like last night, he felt more than comfortable being this close. The bot snuggled deeper into the boy, letting a loose automatic sigh.
Letting out a sigh of his own, the boy looked up at the sky, the bright blue of the daytime darkening as the sun sets, turning the sky above them into a canvas of oranges, reds, purples, indigos and ending in the dark blue the night is known for. Peering deeper into the darkening sky, Tavros spotted a couple of lone birds fly across the welkin, almost invisible. The boy blinked, remembering what he wanted to tell the bot.
"I saw… A steam flier, over at the barracks, too." Tavros started, glancing to his side at Gamzee, who just laid there next to the boy, his gaze transfixed on his friend before him.
"Really?" Gamzee questioned as his ever present smile ceased to falter, "Those motherfuckers are hard to come by these days."
Gamzee, unfortunately, was right. Due to recent pirate and bandit attacks, luxury, tour, transportation, even simple cargo fliers, little by little, all have been weeded out from the sky. All except the military grade. It's not illegal to fly, at least Tavros hopes not, it's just very risky.
"When… I was younger, my dad took me on a, uh, flier… back on Prospit," Tavros reminisced. In the corner of his eye he could see Gamzee's indigo orbs flicker. "It was just a tour thing though," he added. "I remembered that if I closed my eyes and held my arms out, I could almost see Pupa Pan fly next to us." The boy chuckled.
"Well aren't you just a regular motherfuckin' Wendy, Tavbro." He heard the bot speak next to him in a chuckle.
Tavros feigned a gasp and playfully punched the bot on the shoulder. "Shut up!" The boy laughed as the bot put up a hand in mock surrender, laughing just as much, if not more. A few minutes later, the laughter died down to a few chuckles and giggles, and the boy let out a content sigh, that also ended in a breathy chuckle.
Sometimes, Tavros just forgets that the clown steambot isn't human.
"When I, was younger…" The boy started once more, "I wanted, to be a captain, of big flier." Like last night, with the story, there was hardly a stutter, hardly any falter in his normally mild, timid voice as he told Gamzee his dreams of the skies. To fly. To travel. To find hidden cities of myth and legend. To love. After each sentence formed, the bot's smile grew and his eyes brightened, like he shared the same dreams. As he kept sharing, as he kept pouring what he had to Gamzee, Tavros couldn't help but fear the inevitable. Something the boy knows that's been drilling into the bot's mind since they met. The dreaded question: What happened?
When his words of dreams and memories died down to nothing but silence, the boy braced himself, looking up at the sky. It wasn't until the mohawked boy noticed that it was almost completely dark did Gamzee say something. What he said surprised him.
"Let's up and take one."
Blinking, Tavros turned his head back at the clown, who had a ridiculous smile and eyes glowing brightly. Like he's serious.
Tavros hopes he isn't serious.
"W-what?" The surprised boy voiced.
Propping himself up to a sitting position Gamzee loomed over the boy, his grin never leaving it's place, his synthetic voice all but boomed in the serene backyard, "We should motherfuckin' take one. And we do all of that, bro. From flyin' to where ever and seeing all kinds o' motherfuckin' shit," Gamzee's eyes sparked with life and his grin grew with every second he spoke, "to just finding shit no one else up and been to! We can do it!" His entire frame shook with enough excitement to compete with a child in a toy store. "It'll be nothing but motherfuckin miracles." The boy saw that ever present twitch, it was almost a pattern now, but it was nothing but a small jerk.
The boy, pushing himself up to a sitting position (with a little help from Gamzee), could only quietly chuckle next to him. The steambot sounded so serious, it was almost scary. A part of Tavros wanted to believe him though, to say yes and fly away with him, but of course the rational side of him, the side of him that reminds him that he's crippled, crept back in like a parasite and dissuaded the boy. But, pushing the sad thoughts away, he didn't have the heart to lie to the bot, nor to push reality onto him, so he smiled, "Maybe… Someday." The boy promised.
Gamzee beamed, seemingly stated with this answer, and reached over to the boy to give him the biggest hug the clown has ever given him. The mohawked boy returned the embrace with as much vigor, smiling and laughing. Being the one to break it, the boy tugged on the sleeve of the black shirt the bot was wearing, "Take me, inside. It's, um, getting dark. And we could, finish Pupa Pan," Tavros said, a little too hopeful. Gamzee made a sound of confirmation and with little resistance, lifted the boy and carried him to the couch inside, watching Gamzee go back out to cover the birds and grab the boy's wheelchair.
A week. He's only known the bot a week and here they are, laughing, smiling, sharing dreams and talking about the future with each other, as if they've been friends all their lives. Tavros smiled slightly at the thought as the clown came back with his chair in tow, parking it in front of the couch. Gamzee then grabbed the book from the shelf and all but skipped over to the boy, sitting with his back to the armrest and situating Tavros in between his legs with his back to the bot's chest. The boy blushed darkly but made an attempt to move as he opened the book and read the rest of his favorite story to the steambot, who in turn eagerly huddled the boy close, tuning everything out other than the boy's words.
As he read, the boy caught a glimpse of Gamzee's metal hand resting on Tavros' unresponsive right knee. The boy found himself staring at it. It wasn't a bad gesture, and Gamzee probably didn't even know he was doing it. To the copper bot it was just a simple, necessary need to touch. But the wheelchair bound boy couldn't feel it. He could feel Gamzee's other arm snaked around his waist, just not the hand on his knee.
The boy didn't know why it mattered, but it did.
Tavros must of stopped reading, because the bot nudged him a little, lifting the somehow-too-offensive limb from the boy's leg and poking his shoulder. "Tavbro?"
"I got, pushed off a c-cliff," the boy whispered before he could stop himself. Slowly, he turned his head to meet Gamzee's, who only frowned in confusion. But he seemed to catch on quick, as he had a look of realization, and shook his head.
"Tav, you don't need to tell me a thing."
"Gamzee, please," Tavros insisted, turning his torso around awkwardly to meet him better, "I… want to." He took a deep breath, pursing his lips. He trusted Gamzee, so it was only fair that he knew the boy that he saved.
The clown blinked, his eyes glowing with uncertainty, but ultimately said nothing as he lifted the boy to a better sitting position next to him. After the bot did the same he looked to Tavros, who was looking for the right words to say. Finally after what seemed to be an eternity of gathering his thoughts, the boy spoke of the incident that smashed his dreams to a million pieces, with Gamzee next to him, rubbing his forearm in comforting circles.
First, Tavros spoke of Vriska. Of how she bullied him whenever she wanted to play. Of how she broke his arm when she pushed him off the play set. Of how she would put spiders in his hair when he wasn't looking. How she would taunt, ridicule and flat out embarrass the poor boy.
"She sounds motherfuckin' horrible." Gamzee chimed in, this time just holding the boy's hand. Tavros blushed slightly, but squeezed it, nodding in agreement. He continued the story, this time starting with Vriska taking the boy to the forest. To the cliff. She dared him. He declined. She called him out. He wanted to prove her wrong. He crept closer to the edge. He turned to gloat. She pushed. Blinding pain. Then nothing.
At this point, both were clutching each other's hands in a vice grip, Tavros from reliving that horrible memory and Gamzee from sure anger. At least that's what the boy caught when he looked up at the bot. His eyes were glowing a violent purple, rather than the lazy indigo it normally sported, and the boy's hand was growing numb from his grip.
"Tav…" Gamzee stressed out, his voice almost cracking, "How could…How could any motherfucker do that to you?"
Tavros shook his head, "I-I don't, uh, know… Gamzee…" the boy could hear the bot's inner gears whirl at an alarming rate and the steam exhaust started to make a high pitched whistle, startling the boy.
"Seriously, Tavbro, you do not motherfucking deserve that." He continued, holding his gaze to the startled boy in front of him. "You are a miracle," violenttwitch, "And-"
"G-Gamzee!" Tavros grabbed his shoulder with his free hand and shook him with what little power he had. It seemed to work, as the bot grew wide eyed and loosened his grip on the boy's hand. His inner workings were running at normal rate, and the steam stopped flowing with an ear numbing shriek. His eyes, though, still remained that bright purple. Tavros didn't like it.
"…What happened to her..?" Gamzee timidly asked, not too sure if he'd like the answer.
Tavros took in a deep breath, gathering his thoughts, "I don't, know… I haven't heard too, much from h-her after that. We just moved across P-Prospit and, um, moved on the best we could…"
"So nothing bad happed to her?"
"Gamzee…"
"I mean, she motherfuckin' hurt you, Tav." The bot rationalized.
"I know, Gamzee but…" The mohawked boy gave an exhausted sigh, "What, could we do?" He knew that he wouldn't be able to justify his logic to the bot, but he had to try. "Yes, she hurt me, paralyzed me, but it's, just not worth it."
The bot jerked, "What, how? She-"
"Because no matter what we could do, even if we could try, it will never be as bad as what happened to me." Gamzee blinked at the statement, surprised by the sudden firmness of his tone, but said nothing as he dropped his head on the boy's shoulders, his eyes returning to that glow of indigo that the boy grew used too. Tavros blinked the tears threatening to fall away. He cried too much from this memory, he refuses to now. "All I could, do is move on. And, wish her well."
The two remained silent for the rest of the evening, just holding each other in relative, comfortable silence, until the boy requested to go home. When he got there, Tavros quickly rolled through the house, before announcing that his father wasn't there.
He then asked the bot to stay until his father got home.
"You'll have to motherfucking detach me limb from motherfuckin' limb to get me out." Was the bot's only reply before crawling in bed with the boy. Gamzee hugged the boy close, like a life line, and placed a small kiss on the boy's head. Tavros blushed again, giggling a little bit, before falling asleep in the steambot's soft indigo glow.
His father didn't return home that night.
"Victimized, bereaved, and disappointed at seemingly every turn, I still resist feeling defeated, or cynical. I have come to believe that anger and grudges are burning embers in the heart not worth carrying through life. The best response to those who wound me is to get away from them- and wish them well."
- "Wish Them Well", Rush, Clockwork Angels.
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