Your name is Karkat Vantas, and for the first time since you started this gog damn game, you admit defeat. You never thought in all your sweeps that you would be sitting alone on a stone-cold grey floor, trying to wake a catatonic clown out of his stupor, in perfect silence if it wasn't for the painted-up bloody troll's soft coos and hums. You sigh. Here you are, though. The others had tried to leave him here, after you had calmed him down; his eyes had glazed over, and he plopped down to the ground, blowing spit bubbles like a damaged infant grub. Like his mind was empty, and it was your fault. Of course it was, you stupid asshole. You ruined everything for everyone. And they've left you to your own decisions as you try to repair your broken friend.
A shuddering sigh escapes you. You pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them close to you. You glance at Gamzee for maybe the hundredth time, and there is no change. He is still laying on his side, one arm supporting his floofy-haired head and the other gently patting the smooth floor. His glazed eyes, starting to show his adolescence with flecs of purple throughout them, are crossed and half shut, looking unfocused as he blows small spit bubbles tainted with purple blood, opening and closing his cracked lips just slightly. He blinks his eyes almost in slow motion, opening them again as if he can barely find the strength to do so. Again, you sigh. You can't look at him anymore.
You turn away, burying your face in your crossed arms, looking between your knees at the floor, perfectly smooth except for a few small scratches.
"Gamzee, please, wake up," you half whisper to the ground. "Please, please please."
You hear him move, hear his horns clack onto the ground, and bolt upright, twisting to see if he's...
Still on the ground, still glazed over and numb. On his back now, his arms searching the ground aimlessly, almost making snow angels. His mouth opens and closes gently, making a 'pop', as if he were trying to be a golden swimming beast. He closes his eyes. Your shoulders fall, defeated.
"Gamzee, please snap out of it. I need you to be okay. If you don't get up I'll have to leave you here. I don't think I can have anybody else die." Your lip quivers, and you grind your teeth together, trying to hold back the rush of hot tears. Your cheeks flare up in a bright shade of red, although why you aren't sure. There's no one to see you cry your mutant tears. A violent growl rips its way through your throat as your tears break through your attempts to control them, morphing into a drawn out sob. Your eyes squeeze shut and a river of diluted red tears streams down your cheeks, catching on your eyelashes and blurring your vision, spattering your shirt with dark spots. You take several sharp breaths through your teeth and wrench out a strangled sob. If Terezi saw you now, you'd never hear the end of it. Thinking of her makes your stomach twist in your violent crying fit. You let out a long soft moan, broken and mangled by your sharp breathing and hiccups. Your chest is tight, so tight and your tears are hot and shameful and full of regret as they slide down your cheeks, catching on your nose, hovering above your lips, tickling your face in general.
This is all your fault. And there is no fixing it now.
"Gamzee--hic--I'm sorry. I-if I had kept an eye on you like a leader is supposed to do, you would be okay and you wouldn't have run out of slime and N-Nepeta and that sweating fucking freak would st-still be here, and ohhhh...."
Your words fade out as you bury your face violently in your crossed arms, their sleeves stained with dark spots from your mutant tears.
"I did everything wrong," you barely whisper into your sleeves, "And I'm sorry I was so fucking terrible to you." Your voice is husky from crying, and it cracks often. "I was always awful, to everyone, but especially to you, and I regret it so much now. I deserve this, but you don't. You were always so, gog, I don't know. Why were you nice to me. I always told you how much I hated you, and you acted like you didn't even notice. How did you do it. And why am I talking to myself."
You decide that, fuck, nobody's even around, why the fuck not. You don't have to hide anymore.
"I never understood you. I hated you for being so fucking weird. But I never really thought about how you had to deal with your lusus being gone, and all of the others being such dicks to you. And me. Especially me. Sorry." Your tears no longer need any assistance from you now, they roll freely and bountifully from your eyes.
An urgent cough erupts from Gamzee's throat,and a gurgle follows suit. You whip around; Gamzee is choking on his own copious amounts of saliva, his eyes wide yet blank, sputtering and pulling at his throat, kicking his legs.
"Oh gog oh gog oh gog oh gog!" Quick, asshole, do something! You rush over to your friend, grabbing his shoulders and rolling him over onto his side, furiously patting his back, a loud series of thuds. Your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest, and your tears rain down onto Gamzee's blank face. Oh, please gog breathe, you shitty ass clown, breathe! You somehow manage to sob even harder. You keep pounding on his back furiously. Thud, thud, thud.
He coughs, once, twice, and thank gog, he starts breathing again. You sigh. You release your death grip on his shoulder.
"Oh, sorry...." Taking your thumb, you wipe the red tears from Gamzee's face very softly, smudging some of his paint away, revealing his light grey skin. He closes his eyes, and you worry for a moment, but he's still breathing. You cannot leave him more than five feet away from you again.
"Don't scare me like that, fuckass." You barely manage to get the words out.
You feel Gamzee shivering under your hands; you hadn't noticed before, through your tears and self-pitying. You hold him up on his side until you manage to wiggle up close to him and lay next to him, curling up and burying your face in his chest. You pull your knees up to your stomach, your shins pressing into his stomach ever so softly. You reach up and pull his arm around you. You think that it can't hurt to rest a little bit now, to lay here and keep him warm. You're comfortable, and you're pretty sure Gamzee is too. You've got nothing to reside over, except for your friend that you just wrapped around yourself.
Your best friend.
Shit, you fell asleep.
SHIT, FUCKING GAMZEE IS LICKING YOUR FACE. GOG. DAMMIT.
You shove him away, rolling him onto his back. Your face flushes in that familiar way. Pink, shameful cheeks.
Fucking Gamzee, you fucking asshole.
Your best friend Gamzee. The anger drains from your face. That was the sleep-rage talking, you promise yourself. It's the fact that you don't have slime to sleep in, that's all it is. You take a deep breath and kneel over him. His eyes slowly open; goddamn, you woke him up. How long were the two of you asleep? Looking at the sleep-lines on Gamzee's face from laying on his sleeve, you feel like it's been a while.
Gamzee's lips part slightly and he sticks his tongue out. You smile, just a tiny tiny smile. Who could say no to this face? You feel worse and worse about exploding a moment ago. You watch him, watch the way his face moves and how the paint cracks when he smiles. His smile widens, his dangerous teeth become visible. All troll's teeth are pointed, but his are a uniform shape, with tips like needles. Suddenly, his teeth vanish as his eyes cross and the corners of his lips turn down. He takes a deep breath.
A sudden spray hits your face as he sneezes on you, his body jolting with the force of it.
You force yourself to swallow your anger. Clenching your jaw, you take several very deep breaths.
Fuck. You take your shirt and pull it up to wipe your face clean. It falls back to your stomach, damp.
"Oh, fuck it." You pull off your shirt, shivering as the fabric slides against your horns. Tossing it aside, you sigh. You turn back to Gamzee, his long bony fingers in his mouth as he chews them. He really is like a grub. You close your eyes and sigh, a smile finding its way to your lips. This is the saddest moment of your whole life. You look down, at nothing in particular. The ground here is scratched. Come to think of it, you have no idea where you are right now.
You think you need to stop Gamzee from chewing his hands any further. You take his hand from his mouth, grabbing your shirt and drying between his fingers. He blows a spit bubble at you, looking somewhat at you with glazed eyes. You take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. He smiles, and you feel good inside. Somehow.
You breathe a sigh of contentment. Being in this building, dead computers and broken chairs strewn about, is a bit like home after Crabdad would throw a fit. You rest your chin on your knees, Gamzee's hand limp in your own. The only sound around is the odd gurgle from Gamzee. It's lonely, god dammit. And...you wish he would wake up. Fuck. You wonder how long it's been.
A day, two. Three? Three. No more.
And you are hungry. It hurts. It hurts and twists all the way up to your ribs. You look at Gamzee, his paint a complete mess and his body in a state of limp degeneration. His eyes are open now, still coated in a thick glaze of comatose incoherence. At this point, you'd do anything to wake him up. But you need food. And so does he, maybe even more than you. You have no idea what you'll be able to find in the general wreckage of this place. You do have your sickles, though. You may need them.
You prop Gamzee on his side, in case he decides to choke on something. It strains you, taking care of him like he's a grub. You're not even supposed to take care of grubs. It's like being in the ectobiology lab again. Your instincts say to leave him there...you can't do that. God damn it you wish you could. You don't owe this stupid asshole a thing. But you do feel obligated. You have nobody else, the others are gone.
You walk away from him for the first time. Your joints creak from not standing in so long. It really has been a while. You stretch your legs, your back, your arms, and a series of pops escape your body. Fucking gross. You look back at Gamzee, on his side and looking comatose and strangely happy, glazed-over eyes wandering the dark room. You can't help but feel hopeless.
You can hardly hope to find any sort of food on this shitty little rock in outer fucking space. It's quiet as you step down the stairs, one foot after the other making a soft padding sound. You come to the end of the stairs, and silently shuffle down a small, grey hallway, to a grey door. Everything is grey. You're grey, except for a few splotches of dry indigo blood and smears of white paint. You scratch at the paint a bit, but it doesn't flake off. You sigh and continue on, twisting the knob to the door that leads outside to who-knows-what and, maybe, a bit of hope for you and your moirail.
You push open the heavy door, a red twilight casting its shades of storms to come onto you. You look onto the horizon, squinting slightly, looking at the many surrounding buildings on this shitty little meteor. There are scattered craters, making dark spots across the ground every few feet or so. You take a deep, almost laboured breath that mirrors the burden that you feel upon your shoulders. You have to do this, for yourself, for Gamzee, for survival. It's been days since you've even looked at food. You close your eyes and imagine Gamzee inside, lying on the floor and starving. It tugs at you, pulling on your sense of loyalty to your moirail, and you take a step out into the unknown, sicles in hand, not knowing what you'll find. The gravelly texture of the ground grates against your shoes, making a soft crunch as you step.
You make your way to the closest building, trying out the door that looks exactly like the one you just emerged from. You turn, trying to burn the sillhouetted image of the building into your mind. A small base, three windows on the first floor, a larger second floor with sharp, triangular windows, and a final rectaungular level that is larger still. It looks like an upside down version of the pyramids that the Rose human showed you from Earth, but more blocky. You won't forget this one. You had no luck opening this new door, so you keep walking in that direction, hopping over some small craters and going around a few larger ones in the direction of a new building, where there may be a spare appearifier or something similar. You don't know.
As you continue to walk, you fear you may never find anything. And you will have to walk your sorry ass back to Gamzee and drown in your drowsy hold on him as you both wither away.
"Where Is He?"
The hair on the back of your nech stands up as you turn, eyes wide, and behold the glowing white figure.