He couldn't remember. Gamzee couldn't remember why his thumbs were pressed so forcefully against Tavros' throat. He couldn't contemplate his reasoning for rubbing soft, soothing circles with index fingers and whispering, comforting as lungs struggled to inflate against the weight pinning them down. Shh, brother, take a deep breath.

(oh wait you can't-)

Gamzee had the sudden impulse to shake the neck enclosed in his fists. Despite the talons digging into his wrists and attempting to pry his dead-set mitts off, he didn't feel bad. No. He felt pretty good, actually. Nothing was wrong. He leaned down so far his lips brushed against the straining veins in Tavros' neck, screaming for connection, suffocating under pressure. Trying, trying so hard to breathe. While Gamzee just wanted to hold him and tell him that he was sorry, he only wanted to-

(you need to bite him bite him tear him open)

help him. But he couldn't do that, could he? No one could help because Tavros was just-

(a sad sad little piece of shit who can't even kick you away where are your legs shitblood-)

so low and pitiful.

"Gggggham-" he couldn't talk. He used the remainder of air to try and say Gamzee's name. To snap him out of it because-it hurts oh god it hurts my lungs are on fire gamzee stop it stop it please what are you doing- calling his name usually worked. But now everything was fuzzy. Gamzee's grip was letting up a bit but everything was comforting and warm and such a nice shade of grey. Such a nice shade. Tavros tightened his grip around Gamzee's bleeding wrists, panting, tears stinging the backs of his eyes.

"Stop. Gamzee. Stop. Please get off of me." he rasped, his hands sliding higher up to scrape at Gamzee's fingers.

He wasn't looking at Tavros. Wasn't listening either. His orange eyes were looking through him and his ears were swiveled back, teeth bared in a snarl. His hot breath stank and assaulted Tavros' nostrils which flared as he coughed and spluttered.

(why does my love look at me this way? the stupid fuck-)

He loved him though. Gamzee loved him. That's why he had come over. He needed to tell him that, show him that.

(i love you and she can't have you no one can have you so you'll just have to be first)

(you'll just have to wait for me when you get to where you're going)

Gamzee seized him once more, tightening, hands wrapping around sensitive flesh, slamming the other's head down with a forceful crack. Tavros tried to gasp. But Gamzee silenced him by rubbing those soothing circles as he held fast- tighter tighter faster hurry - and Tavros tried his hardest to get Gamzee off of him. He was strong. He could have fought Gamzee. Could have beaten Gamzee any night except for this night. Because he was tired. Hadn't slept in a few days. His muscles were worn and his stomach was empty and he had no aggressiveness or urge to inflict suffering in his genetic pool. He was simple. So simple.

(yet so motherfucking complicated)

There was the black again, dancing with the grey off in the distance. Flying, flying away from him - inviting me take me with you please - all his nightmares and wildest fantasies in one and for a minute he was happy. Then he was sad. So sad because he didn't understand. He didn't understand why Gamzee was doing this. Maybe his body wasn't shutting down. Maybe he was just going to sleep and when he woke up he and Gamzee would still be friends. There would still be piles and ridiculous rap battles and Gamzee's meaningless rambling about life and purpose.

(gamzee no i don't want to please stop don't do this i thought you liked me. i thought i was your friend. gamzee. please. stop.)

Then his fingers went slack around the scabbed, flaky wrists and punctured skin, leaving Gamzee staring blankly and frowning faintly at the lifeless body. Tavros.

(good job you waste of space you're starting to do things right)

No. Hurting what you loved was not right. It was bad. It was sinful -deranged crackhead freak who works for the dark carnival-, ungrateful, his idols said so. Gamzee felt his stomach turn in a fit of shock, lurching as bile crept up his esophagus.

(yes now no one can get to him, except for you. once. you get him once. now that's the end of that. you got him.)

No. That wasn't what he had wanted.

(you put him out of his misery if you hadn't culled him they would have and we both know how much you hate them don't we?)

...Yes. Gamzee hated it. Hated himself now. Would continue to hate himself for a while anyway. But not as much as he hated them. Hated the voice in his head coaching him. It would all get better soon. It had to, it had to, it had to.

It should.

(it will)

AN: yet another stream of consciousness from me. please review it even if you hate it. next i'm probably going to write some fluffy equius/nepeta or some eridan angst. maybe some smut. who knows? anyway thanks you guys and have a good night!