What is he doing? What is he doing? That's...what, three times now, he's been kissed by a murderous troll? And it shouldn't, shouldn't make his stomach twist itself up in knots like this, but for some reason it does, and Dave's totally going to blame that on fucking teenage hormones and stress.
And he's afraid of Gamzee, that much is clear, because he knows now, what Gamzee can do but... But it's also kind of hard to be afraid of him, because Dave can also see the fear in his eyes.
One thing's for fucking sure - whatever the hell this is turning into, it's not going to be easy. But maybe that's better. Maybe that's what Dave needs to distract himself from the fact that he's got no fucking idea where he is or what's going on or how to find his friends.
All he really knows is that he's fascinated by the smear of his own bright blood across Gamzee's gray lips, by that oh-so-alien indigo blush that creeps across the troll's cheeks.
He swallows, hard, knows that now would be the perfect time for some kind of witticism, some sarcastic or cynical remark that display just how nonchalant he is about these sloppy interspecies makeouts, but for some reason, all he can manage to get out is, "Uh..."
"Uhhhh..." Really, he isn't going to be much help either. There's a faint zing, a tingle, where he can still feel the wet. The wet that's being so very red. He licks at his lip, tasting blood and feeling a bit of a sting as the tug splits open a cracked spot he'd all been worrying with his own teeth. A bit of red. A bit of indigo. All smearing up over his lip and mixing all nice.
Gamzee is confused and worried all up that Dave will leave like he'd been up and pulled away from every motherfucking body else, and he doesn't want Dave to be leaving now. Dave can't. Dave's being all what's familiar here. The only thing that's not so very different. And some of the differences aren't being bad ones, that's true. But they're too much right now. Too much and he's drowning and Dave is here and familiar and he doesn't know what's going on and--
Gamzee realizes he's got a bit of Dave's shirt all in his hands, clinging just a little. Not a big cling. Dave could be up and absconding out of it without even trying. More of a plea in gesture not to go. He'll be alone if Dave goes. Lost in the dark. Scared. Hurting in a way that maybe alone has always hurt, but only now that he's for once not been alone even for a little while--in a way that up and means maybe not being alone again, not all like the Old Goat's visits where he knew he'd be left again--does Gamzee up and really feel the hurt of.
He still feels all flushed right up, and he knows he's got to be showing some of these feels all on his face, and it's so weak but maybe it's okay to be a little weak sometimes. Gamzee just knows that he can't be letting Dave leave just yet. Can't. "Dave--"
That's it. He's done. How's he supposed to have any hope of walking away from this when he can feel the desperation in Gamzee - in that clench of fabric in his fist and the sound of his voice? What makes it seem a little more okay is that Dave doesn't think it's desperation for...well, for that - at least, not yet. He gets the feeling those kisses have been about something else entirely. Contact, maybe, which makes Dave wonder just how long it's been since Gamzee's touched anything that hasn't been inanimate and covered in blood.
"Shit," he says softly, shaking his head, and then - because he's been doing far too much touchy-feely talking for his own liking tonight, Striders are men of action or some shit like that - he lets his head drop forward until he's resting his forehead against Gamzee's and sighs.
"Let's just...see if we can't get you out of here. Find you some real food to eat."
The words ease up something clenched tight inside, but not quite as much as the gesture does. Dave isn't leaving. He can relax a little. All of this is still so strange and new and motherfuck he hated Dave all when they started this. Except maybe he was just all hurting and lashing out. And Dave was hurting too, maybe?
Maybe. With a bit of effort Gamzee finally unclenches his fingers, but he makes no move to end the contact. It takes a swallow, two, past something thick in his throat but he finally gets some words out. "Would be all down with that, brother. Still got some hungry kicking around."
Dave gets out something like a laugh, and slowly breaks the contact, stepping away from the bed. "All right," he says. "Let me just...find somebody who knows what the fuck's going on and figure out whether we can just walk out the front door, or if I gotta pull some slick kidnapping shit or something."
He backs towards the door of the room, not taking his eyes off Gamzee - but it's different this time. It's not that he's afraid Gamzee will do something to him if his back is turned, more like...he's afraid Gamzee might do something to himself, or...something like that. Shit. Dave seriously has no idea what he's doing.
He gropes for the doorhandle behind his back, finds it, and then mutters, "Just...I'll be right back, okay. Don't...do anything stupid while I'm gone."
Then he slips out the door and hurries off, trying to find that nurse who was in the room before, or some doctor-looking people. Somebody.
Gamzee doesn't want to be stuck in this strange place alone, like he all was before today. He grips the sheets tightly, nearly ripping them, but at the same time it makes sense. Dave is just going off to get someone else. One of the adults.
But it doesn't mean Gamzee has to like it. He nods, but stiffly. "Holding you right up to that. Get your hurry on."
And then he waits, not liking the feeling all of the emptiness trying to pull at him.
It's only a few minutes, but it feels like longer - why does it feel like longer? - and Dave only barely resists the urge to kick the door in when he gets back. As it is, he throws it open with a little more force than is perhaps strictly necessary, but his coolkid facade is totally unruffled. Totally.
"All right. They said that as long as you're feeling up to it, we can leave whenever we want, but they don't know how long the effects of whatever they did to you will last."
He's already making his way back over to the bed as he talks, trying to figure out how to lower the stupid guardrail things that...keep people from rolling out of the bed, he guesses? Do people do that? Whatever. Rattling metal accompanies his next few words as he wrestles with it.
"So they want you to come back in whenever you start feeling shitty again - I mean, probably not as shitty as you felt when I found you, dumbass. Probably before that. Or they said you can find someone closer who knows how to cast those two spells, but I don't even know how the fuck to go about doing that, so I guess it's just more trips to the hospital for now."
Finally triumphant over the guardrail, he automatically steps in to help Gamzee off the bed. "So, back to Trevas, then? Is that where you're living?" A thought occurs to him then, of how seriously out of it Gamzee was when Dave found him, and he stops, frowning suspiciously.
"You...are living somewhere, right? Shit, do you even have a job or whatever?"
Dave coming back fills him with something he vaguely identifies as relief. It's a good feeling, he decides after a bit. Gamzee ends up only being half aware of what Dave is talking about at first. Reminds him almost of Karkat--bad thought.
It's when Dave starts trying to help him off the bed that he starts snapping all back to attention. Part of him is all screechy that he shouldn't need help, can't show needing help, but he smashes it all down. If he doesn't be needing help maybe Dave will get his leave on. He doesn't want that.
Of course the questions are all up and making no sense. "Uhhh. Got no hive nowhere up in here. There's a place up for getting my washing on but it gets all motherfucking bright there."
The job question is even weirder. What could he all do? Actually, is there anything at all what for a young troll to be doing as a job. "Wasn't up and think there was nothing I could be doing what for work."
"Jesus," Dave mutters. "I probably should have seen that coming." He wracks his brain for answers, comes up with a couple - some better than others.
"Okay, well...I've got a place on Aestival - guess I could find some space for a roommate, if you want to just move in with me." And that way, Dave can keep an eye on him, make sure he gets back to the hospital before things go belly-up again. "Or, you know, if you think that's moving too fast, I can probably pony up the cash to get you a place in Trevas." That's not so bad, either - with Dave traveling there nearly every night for work, he can check up on Gamzee pretty regularly. "But what the fuck are you going to do for work?"
He chews his bottom lip for a moment, thinking, studying Gamzee - and then, from somewhere, a memory floats to the surface. Triumphantly, he snaps his fingers and grins.
"Got it. I bet I could teach you to spin. Your beats are pretty ill, you'd pick it up in no time. And then, since I've got that Finder gig now, maybe you can even take over my job at the club."
This is a good feeling. He likes this feeling. He's not entirely sure what this feeling is but he likes it. The questions on the other hand...
"Aestival? What all about the light, brother? Is it going to be up and burning my lookstubs all blind like our justice sister?" This was a worry for him and in fact he'd terrified his finder with his panic at the castle's light the first time, and only quieted when he'd found someplace shady. "I do got a like on of Trevas. Never no worries up about the light there."
But no small amount of pride bubbled up at him at Dave's praise. He knew his beats were being all good, and he'd gotten a good like on of trading all back and forth with Dave that time. "I'm all liking that idea, motherfucker! Didn't have no knowing that could up and be a brother's job all before!"
He shrugs. "Dunno. I've really got no fucking clue how you guys work. But, if you're worried about it, Trevas it is. That'll put you closer to the club scene, anyway, which is probably good while you're still learning the ropes."
"Plus," he adds, grinning a little, "something tells me you'll fit right in there, with your makeup and shit. Hell, people will probably love having you around."
He hovers for a moment, wondering if he should tuck himself under Gamzee's arm, just for good measure, but decides he'll hang back for now. Won't do to overstay his welcome or whatever.
"Yeah, I think I've still got some tables tucked away in my specibus or whatever that you can practice on. You might even be able to use my timetables - that shit doesn't really seem to do much of anything time-related anymore, anyway."
It irks him, losing his abilities - especially just after going God Tier in the first place. But the new gig comes with some training - some of which he's assuming will be magic-related - so maybe he'll be able to figure out a way to get his time-powers back.
Gamzee likes Trevas. The lights and the faint strains of music through the dark. Hearing that Dave thinks so too is reassuring. He's always been aware that most trolls just 'put up with him.' That had been enough before with the slime to soothe everything down into a pleasant haze. It's not enough anymore.
And a chance to show his stuff. Make Dave all look at him and see that he's motherfucking skilled at all kinds of shit. That's a good feeling too. He's tired, clearly, from the way he walks, but his expression is bright and beaming. Still he sticks all close to Dave, both out of not wanting to fall right the motherfuck over and not wanting to lose him. "Teach at me! I'll be showing you all kinds of beats what I can be making happen. Kicking only the best up in here."
A pause. "Lost what I had too. Not being all sure I'm wanting it back, but motherfucking gone, just all like yours."
Yeah, Dave doesn't doubt that. Something tells him that with Gamzee all sobered up and actually thinking, he'll give Dave a good run for his money on the tables. There's just something in the way he moves, in the way he talks - some sort of fluid, musical quality that Dave thinks will translate real well to the tables.
It shouldn't come as a surprise, Gamzee's statement - the trolls played through their own version of Sburb, Dave knows that, so logically they would all have had powers, had elements like Dave and the others did - but somehow, it does. Or, at least, until he remembers - with another guilty twinge - a particular conversation between the two of them.
"Right, right," he says, hoping Gamzee won't remember what he's remembering. "You never actually told me what you did. But you were a Bard, right? What's that about?"
I'm just gonna go with it. Go with the codtier. And if it's jossed well he's from a slight AU
He remembers, pretty motherfucking well, actually, and it makes his head drop a little. All kinds of rememberings he's only barely got a handle on. But he all knows his powers now that he's gotten his remembering all in place. Kind of motherfucking glad he's not got them no more.
"Bard all of Rage, motherfucker. What for destroying people with those mad feels. All I up and got left on with it..."
He pulls up his shirt a bit, and it's got an itch up through his back, tingly and twisty. Doesn't up and bring them out much, like Vriska all did. Didn't even know he up and had them for a long motherfucking while. Not all sure he's liking the look of them anymore either, what with the faces all getting a remind on of what he was up and doing and what all got broken. No more messiahs.
But the wings all come on out, bright and purple and getting their fairy dust on things already.
The words are out even before Dave has a chance to think about holding them back, and if one large part of his brain wants to complain about suddenly being covered in glittery purple fairy dust, it's being drowned out pretty handily by the part of his brain that is insisting that this is just about enough surprises for one day, thank you very fucking much.
He wants to touch them, wants to know if they're soft or scaly or what, just because holy fuck, they're fucking wings, and his hand goes out automatically before he can stop it, wondering if Gamzee's down with the touching.
"Fuck, bro," he says, kind of hoarsely, because seriously - what the fuck do you even say in response to something like this? They're out in the hall, now, and people are kind of looking, but less than Dave would have expected, and none who look quite so gobsmacked as Dave feels. Maybe wings aren't a big fucking deal here, or whatever.
"You guys have got wings? Why the fuck didn't that come up in any of our conversations?"
"Only one other sister be having wings up in here. Only other one of us what got to god tier."
He looks at Dave's hand curiously, but his wings do a little more than just that, stretching out and flicking forward towards that hand a little. Admittedly, he's a little curious about the wings. Never even tried to up and fly with them yet. Can't remember more than one other time he up and had them all out either. His voice goes a little sad, a little lost.
"Don't even got no memories how it up and happened. Didn't even know until ... after."
Tentatively, delicately, and with a reverence usually only reserved for some of his (Bro's, though, really) most expensive equipment, Dave runs callused fingertips over Gamzee's wings. They come away covered in more of that fucking fairy dust, but that's okay. It's kind of worth it for that touch.
Dave's never held a butterfly - they were always a little too...normal to be included in his collection of weird dead things - but he imagines it might feel something like Gamzee's wings.
His mouth twists a little as he rubs his fingers together, feeling the dust. "Might be better that way, bro. Going God Tier's not exactly a great experience. I mean, me and Rose had to fucking blow ourselves up to get there, and I think John got stabbed."
Gamzee shivers hard at the touch, but his lips quirk up. Sensitive, but in an almost ticklish way. Of course the shivers send another splash of dust falling right off and floor around his feet is coated in a shimmery purple now.
"Maybe. Don't sound too motherfucking good up to me."
There's an awkward pause. He doesn't remember how to put the wings back in. He knows there's a way--Vriska kept them in for a long while, and he had them in until now--but he can't up and figure it out. Thinking all at them to go in doesn't work. He frowns and just lets them relax. They fold up nice against his back but don't go in again, looking rather like bright purple coat-tails.
"Well motherfuck. Don't be knowing how to put them all back."
Dave just has to laugh, rolling his eyes behind his shades and clapping Gamzee on the shoulder.
"Guess you're just going to have to go around being a winged motherfucker for now, then." He shrugs. "Somehow, I don't think anybody's going to mind. But, uh..."
He eyes the floor around them, now glittering and purple. "Let's get the fuck out of here before they decide to make us clean this up or something."
He laughs again as he starts down the hallway. "Man, you better hope nobody's looking for you, or anything. You're leaving a trail Terezi could follow." He considers that for a moment. "I mean, without getting down and licking the floor."
"Yeah. Let's be getting our leave on before they all see."
The contact feels nice, and he leans in just a tiny bit for a moment or two, looking more like a sway than anything else. He laughs along all at Dave's joke, suddenly so very glad he doesn't feel that hate anymore. This feels so much better. Cleaner. Like that hate wasn't all being what he really wanted. What had he wanted all to start up? Gamzee isn't quite all sure, memories going fuzzy in and out.
Then he realizes he's all lagging behind and has to trot a few steps to catch up. It's...tiring, and he remembers there all being a train so he's hoping it's close.
It's...kind of like being followed around by an big puppy, Dave thinks, which is much better than it was before. Before it was more like being stalked by a very hungry, very angry tiger or something.
And kind of just like a puppy, he notices that Gamzee's lagging behind a little bit, like he's worn out his energy with his enthusiasm. Or, you know, maybe it's just that he's still recovering from being kind of fucked up. That's probably more likely.
Carefully, Dave slows his pace, tucks himself into Gamzee's personal space so he can be there just in case.
Gamzee realized Dave up and slowed down for him and he's full with a weird new sensation all through him. Kind of nice, but he doesn't know what it's being. It's not quite the almost pale-like feelings, or the wanting to makeout that makes them red. It's... something else.
It's basically a lifting of the loneliness that's plagued him forever. A feeling that someone totally cares. Really is paying attention. What he'd all up and thought he might be feeling with Karkat but hadn't had the time to settle all in. Gamzee gives Dave a confused but bright smile as they walk, with the tiredness pulling at it a little but open and happy.
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And he's afraid of Gamzee, that much is clear, because he knows now, what Gamzee can do but... But it's also kind of hard to be afraid of him, because Dave can also see the fear in his eyes.
One thing's for fucking sure - whatever the hell this is turning into, it's not going to be easy. But maybe that's better. Maybe that's what Dave needs to distract himself from the fact that he's got no fucking idea where he is or what's going on or how to find his friends.
All he really knows is that he's fascinated by the smear of his own bright blood across Gamzee's gray lips, by that oh-so-alien indigo blush that creeps across the troll's cheeks.
He swallows, hard, knows that now would be the perfect time for some kind of witticism, some sarcastic or cynical remark that display just how nonchalant he is about these sloppy interspecies makeouts, but for some reason, all he can manage to get out is, "Uh..."
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Gamzee is confused and worried all up that Dave will leave like he'd been up and pulled away from every motherfucking body else, and he doesn't want Dave to be leaving now. Dave can't. Dave's being all what's familiar here. The only thing that's not so very different. And some of the differences aren't being bad ones, that's true. But they're too much right now. Too much and he's drowning and Dave is here and familiar and he doesn't know what's going on and--
Gamzee realizes he's got a bit of Dave's shirt all in his hands, clinging just a little. Not a big cling. Dave could be up and absconding out of it without even trying. More of a plea in gesture not to go. He'll be alone if Dave goes. Lost in the dark. Scared. Hurting in a way that maybe alone has always hurt, but only now that he's for once not been alone even for a little while--in a way that up and means maybe not being alone again, not all like the Old Goat's visits where he knew he'd be left again--does Gamzee up and really feel the hurt of.
He still feels all flushed right up, and he knows he's got to be showing some of these feels all on his face, and it's so weak but maybe it's okay to be a little weak sometimes. Gamzee just knows that he can't be letting Dave leave just yet. Can't. "Dave--"
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"Shit," he says softly, shaking his head, and then - because he's been doing far too much touchy-feely talking for his own liking tonight, Striders are men of action or some shit like that - he lets his head drop forward until he's resting his forehead against Gamzee's and sighs.
"Let's just...see if we can't get you out of here. Find you some real food to eat."
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Maybe. With a bit of effort Gamzee finally unclenches his fingers, but he makes no move to end the contact. It takes a swallow, two, past something thick in his throat but he finally gets some words out. "Would be all down with that, brother. Still got some hungry kicking around."
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He backs towards the door of the room, not taking his eyes off Gamzee - but it's different this time. It's not that he's afraid Gamzee will do something to him if his back is turned, more like...he's afraid Gamzee might do something to himself, or...something like that. Shit. Dave seriously has no idea what he's doing.
He gropes for the doorhandle behind his back, finds it, and then mutters, "Just...I'll be right back, okay. Don't...do anything stupid while I'm gone."
Then he slips out the door and hurries off, trying to find that nurse who was in the room before, or some doctor-looking people. Somebody.
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But it doesn't mean Gamzee has to like it. He nods, but stiffly. "Holding you right up to that. Get your hurry on."
And then he waits, not liking the feeling all of the emptiness trying to pull at him.
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"All right. They said that as long as you're feeling up to it, we can leave whenever we want, but they don't know how long the effects of whatever they did to you will last."
He's already making his way back over to the bed as he talks, trying to figure out how to lower the stupid guardrail things that...keep people from rolling out of the bed, he guesses? Do people do that? Whatever. Rattling metal accompanies his next few words as he wrestles with it.
"So they want you to come back in whenever you start feeling shitty again - I mean, probably not as shitty as you felt when I found you, dumbass. Probably before that. Or they said you can find someone closer who knows how to cast those two spells, but I don't even know how the fuck to go about doing that, so I guess it's just more trips to the hospital for now."
Finally triumphant over the guardrail, he automatically steps in to help Gamzee off the bed. "So, back to Trevas, then? Is that where you're living?" A thought occurs to him then, of how seriously out of it Gamzee was when Dave found him, and he stops, frowning suspiciously.
"You...are living somewhere, right? Shit, do you even have a job or whatever?"
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It's when Dave starts trying to help him off the bed that he starts snapping all back to attention. Part of him is all screechy that he shouldn't need help, can't show needing help, but he smashes it all down. If he doesn't be needing help maybe Dave will get his leave on. He doesn't want that.
Of course the questions are all up and making no sense. "Uhhh. Got no hive nowhere up in here. There's a place up for getting my washing on but it gets all motherfucking bright there."
The job question is even weirder. What could he all do? Actually, is there anything at all what for a young troll to be doing as a job. "Wasn't up and think there was nothing I could be doing what for work."
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"Okay, well...I've got a place on Aestival - guess I could find some space for a roommate, if you want to just move in with me." And that way, Dave can keep an eye on him, make sure he gets back to the hospital before things go belly-up again. "Or, you know, if you think that's moving too fast, I can probably pony up the cash to get you a place in Trevas." That's not so bad, either - with Dave traveling there nearly every night for work, he can check up on Gamzee pretty regularly. "But what the fuck are you going to do for work?"
He chews his bottom lip for a moment, thinking, studying Gamzee - and then, from somewhere, a memory floats to the surface. Triumphantly, he snaps his fingers and grins.
"Got it. I bet I could teach you to spin. Your beats are pretty ill, you'd pick it up in no time. And then, since I've got that Finder gig now, maybe you can even take over my job at the club."
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"Aestival? What all about the light, brother? Is it going to be up and burning my lookstubs all blind like our justice sister?" This was a worry for him and in fact he'd terrified his finder with his panic at the castle's light the first time, and only quieted when he'd found someplace shady. "I do got a like on of Trevas. Never no worries up about the light there."
But no small amount of pride bubbled up at him at Dave's praise. He knew his beats were being all good, and he'd gotten a good like on of trading all back and forth with Dave that time. "I'm all liking that idea, motherfucker! Didn't have no knowing that could up and be a brother's job all before!"
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"Plus," he adds, grinning a little, "something tells me you'll fit right in there, with your makeup and shit. Hell, people will probably love having you around."
He hovers for a moment, wondering if he should tuck himself under Gamzee's arm, just for good measure, but decides he'll hang back for now. Won't do to overstay his welcome or whatever.
"Yeah, I think I've still got some tables tucked away in my specibus or whatever that you can practice on. You might even be able to use my timetables - that shit doesn't really seem to do much of anything time-related anymore, anyway."
It irks him, losing his abilities - especially just after going God Tier in the first place. But the new gig comes with some training - some of which he's assuming will be magic-related - so maybe he'll be able to figure out a way to get his time-powers back.
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And a chance to show his stuff. Make Dave all look at him and see that he's motherfucking skilled at all kinds of shit. That's a good feeling too. He's tired, clearly, from the way he walks, but his expression is bright and beaming. Still he sticks all close to Dave, both out of not wanting to fall right the motherfuck over and not wanting to lose him. "Teach at me! I'll be showing you all kinds of beats what I can be making happen. Kicking only the best up in here."
A pause. "Lost what I had too. Not being all sure I'm wanting it back, but motherfucking gone, just all like yours."
no subject
It shouldn't come as a surprise, Gamzee's statement - the trolls played through their own version of Sburb, Dave knows that, so logically they would all have had powers, had elements like Dave and the others did - but somehow, it does. Or, at least, until he remembers - with another guilty twinge - a particular conversation between the two of them.
"Right, right," he says, hoping Gamzee won't remember what he's remembering. "You never actually told me what you did. But you were a Bard, right? What's that about?"
I'm just gonna go with it. Go with the codtier. And if it's jossed well he's from a slight AU
"Bard all of Rage, motherfucker. What for destroying people with those mad feels. All I up and got left on with it..."
He pulls up his shirt a bit, and it's got an itch up through his back, tingly and twisty. Doesn't up and bring them out much, like Vriska all did. Didn't even know he up and had them for a long motherfucking while. Not all sure he's liking the look of them anymore either, what with the faces all getting a remind on of what he was up and doing and what all got broken. No more messiahs.
But the wings all come on out, bright and purple and getting their fairy dust on things already.
Codtier, yessssss.
The words are out even before Dave has a chance to think about holding them back, and if one large part of his brain wants to complain about suddenly being covered in glittery purple fairy dust, it's being drowned out pretty handily by the part of his brain that is insisting that this is just about enough surprises for one day, thank you very fucking much.
He wants to touch them, wants to know if they're soft or scaly or what, just because holy fuck, they're fucking wings, and his hand goes out automatically before he can stop it, wondering if Gamzee's down with the touching.
"Fuck, bro," he says, kind of hoarsely, because seriously - what the fuck do you even say in response to something like this? They're out in the hall, now, and people are kind of looking, but less than Dave would have expected, and none who look quite so gobsmacked as Dave feels. Maybe wings aren't a big fucking deal here, or whatever.
"You guys have got wings? Why the fuck didn't that come up in any of our conversations?"
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He looks at Dave's hand curiously, but his wings do a little more than just that, stretching out and flicking forward towards that hand a little. Admittedly, he's a little curious about the wings. Never even tried to up and fly with them yet. Can't remember more than one other time he up and had them all out either. His voice goes a little sad, a little lost.
"Don't even got no memories how it up and happened. Didn't even know until ... after."
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Tentatively, delicately, and with a reverence usually only reserved for some of his (Bro's, though, really) most expensive equipment, Dave runs callused fingertips over Gamzee's wings. They come away covered in more of that fucking fairy dust, but that's okay. It's kind of worth it for that touch.
Dave's never held a butterfly - they were always a little too...normal to be included in his collection of weird dead things - but he imagines it might feel something like Gamzee's wings.
His mouth twists a little as he rubs his fingers together, feeling the dust. "Might be better that way, bro. Going God Tier's not exactly a great experience. I mean, me and Rose had to fucking blow ourselves up to get there, and I think John got stabbed."
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"Maybe. Don't sound too motherfucking good up to me."
There's an awkward pause. He doesn't remember how to put the wings back in. He knows there's a way--Vriska kept them in for a long while, and he had them in until now--but he can't up and figure it out. Thinking all at them to go in doesn't work. He frowns and just lets them relax. They fold up nice against his back but don't go in again, looking rather like bright purple coat-tails.
"Well motherfuck. Don't be knowing how to put them all back."
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"Guess you're just going to have to go around being a winged motherfucker for now, then." He shrugs. "Somehow, I don't think anybody's going to mind. But, uh..."
He eyes the floor around them, now glittering and purple. "Let's get the fuck out of here before they decide to make us clean this up or something."
He laughs again as he starts down the hallway. "Man, you better hope nobody's looking for you, or anything. You're leaving a trail Terezi could follow." He considers that for a moment. "I mean, without getting down and licking the floor."
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The contact feels nice, and he leans in just a tiny bit for a moment or two, looking more like a sway than anything else. He laughs along all at Dave's joke, suddenly so very glad he doesn't feel that hate anymore. This feels so much better. Cleaner. Like that hate wasn't all being what he really wanted. What had he wanted all to start up? Gamzee isn't quite all sure, memories going fuzzy in and out.
Then he realizes he's all lagging behind and has to trot a few steps to catch up. It's...tiring, and he remembers there all being a train so he's hoping it's close.
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And kind of just like a puppy, he notices that Gamzee's lagging behind a little bit, like he's worn out his energy with his enthusiasm. Or, you know, maybe it's just that he's still recovering from being kind of fucked up. That's probably more likely.
Carefully, Dave slows his pace, tucks himself into Gamzee's personal space so he can be there just in case.
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It's basically a lifting of the loneliness that's plagued him forever. A feeling that someone totally cares. Really is paying attention. What he'd all up and thought he might be feeling with Karkat but hadn't had the time to settle all in. Gamzee gives Dave a confused but bright smile as they walk, with the tiredness pulling at it a little but open and happy.
"This is up and being...nice."