All eyes are on you when you returned to school in a wheelchair. It was painfully early Friday morning when your mother was pushing you along in the disturbing thing. Your hands rest in your lap as you stare at the giant space below you, where your legs use to exist. In their place are just the stubs of your thighs wrapped up in gauze. Being silent as hell, your neck cranes down into a dumb yellow 'lucky bandana' your mother had you wear. But somehow you have doubts that it'll help you at all. Your mind is still wrapping around what all happened to you. All in one week at that.

It's official. Being crippled was the worst thing that has ever happened to you.

You realize you've now been hauled into the office of your High School.

"Excuse me," your mother speaks.

"Yeah, what do you ne- oh! Mrs. Nitram." Greets your principal, Mr. Hussie. He glances at you and there was a brief sign of shock. But he gave you a slight smile."It's good to see Tavros is still able to come back to school." He says half-heartedly. Clearly the sight of the crippled 17 year old wasn't what anyone would claim to be something 'good to see'.

"Oh please Mr. Hussie, no need to be formal. Call me Tinker." Your mother bashfully says.

Your principal shrugs, "Ok." and they began a conversation. Slightly ignoring the chatter of the two, you fumble with your thumbs. You can feel the massive pit in your stomach and your heart sloppily sliding down into your body. Not even the ringing bells were able to snap you out of your depressing mood. You hear your mother mutter some words of encouragement to you, followed by a kiss on the forehead to signal she's leaving. You just continue to stare at the ground.

"Right, sooo," the principal pipes up, "Your mom asked me to find a caretaker, or something, to push you around 'til you can do it yourself. So who do you wa-" Mr. Hussie was then interrupted by heavy footsteps that casually walk into the room. This somehow sparked your interest, so you decide to take a look. A tallish and slightly tanned American teenager appeared in the doorway. His murky, dark purple dyed hair was a massive mess and his baggy clothes were no cleaner than the mass on top of his head. His black pajama pants were polka dotted with circles of a pale plum and were long enough to loosely wrap around his ankles and drag along the ground. His hands rested in his black hoodies pockets that was half way open revealing a lavender purple shirt that contrasted against his ensemble. Slung over his shoulder was a bright purple backpack. On his face seems to be light traces of what looked like clown makeup around his mouth and eyes.

"Aw, Jesus Christ," Mr. Hussie whines. "Late again, aren't we, Mr. Makara?" mAKARA? You think. Now you recognize this guy. You've seen your classmate Gamzee Makara around. In fact, you think you hang in the same place during lunch as him. You also recall talking to him a good few times. And here he is, slouching at the entrance of the office. He shrugs a bit with that infamous laid-back smile on his face.

"Sorry Hussie. Lost track of time s'all." His voice sighed.

"You've been late all this week. I guess that means I gotta give you detention, or some shit..." Hussie then looked at you and smiled a bit. "Okay, here's an idea. Instead of detention, why don't you help out Mr. Nitram here until he's got a hang of getting around?" You realise that Gamzee hasn't even noticed that you've been standing - er- sitting there,(wOW, i'LL NEED TO GET USE TO SAYING THAT) the whole entire time. He looks at you and widens his grin,

"Oh!" Gamzee chuckles, " Uh, T-Taren...? Naw, that don't sound right," he thinks for a second then smiles, "Tavros! Right?" Your heart sinks a bit, the fact that he barely knows your name. It sucks even more because you two hang out with the exact same group of people, yet he can't even remember your name. Your frown stretches slightly but you're able to mutter out a "Yeah."

"That's sweet! Know what Hussie? I'd love to help this mother-, I mean, uh, guy, out."

"Alright," Mr. Hussie turns to you and asks, " Sound good?"

"S-sure." you grumble.

"Oh. And Mr. Makara?" says Hussie, "What have I told you about wearing your pajamas?"

"Riiight," he groans, "I'll wear some pants next week." He gave a casual grin and a small thumbs up.

After a schedule change for Gamzee and yourself to have the same classes, you both leave the office and headed to your second hour class. Gamzee pushed you along the slightly empty hallways. You two were silent for a bit. Aside from Gamzee's meaningless humming.

"Sooo," Gamzee starts, "Tavros, I've seen you around school. And I think I've talked to you a few times. But you were standin' then. So what went down with them legs of yours?" You really don't feel like talking but it would've been rude if you just ignored him.

"I, uh," you stutter, "I got in a bad car accident earlier this week. It was, uh, this sunday. Somehow my legs were able to get messed up pretty bad. And by bad, I mean to the point where hope for recovery was uh, well, hopeless. And having dead legs hanging off my body didn't, uh, didn't exactly sound good. So, th-they amputated my limbs. The.. The doctor said fake legs are, um, really expensive. So I don't think I'll be getting of those any time soon. My family can only afford a wheelchair for now."

"Hmm," you hear Gamzee grumble, "Well damn! I can't help but feel sorry for a motherfucker. But hey, I'll be here to help as long as you need brother." He pats your shoulder as you two turn down a hallway in a comforting, friendly manner.

"Uh, thanks, Gamzee." You say. The class you were heading to was english. Both of you linger in the hallways until the bell rings and a rush of kids are released into the corridors. It was a blast of chattering. As soon as the room was empty, Gamzee props open the door and pushes you in. Mr. Egbert wasn't inside the room at the moment.

"Alright, bro. Where does this crazy motherfucker sit?" Gamzee asks you. The classroom desks are in rows that split in half leaving a massive space between them for the teacher to walk up and down. The desks face inwards, a.k.a, at each other. You always seemed to like this setup in this room.

"Well, uh, Mr. Egbert allows our class to sit freely. It would, uh, it would probably be best to have us set over there. But we might have to have to share a desk."

"Man!" states Gamzee, "Egbert lets ya set wherever? Thass cool! I don't think my old class got to do that...We just sat in assigned seats 'nd stuff. But that's cool too. I'm sure teach knows what he's doing." His voice was lower than a baritone singer and every word he said grinded against his throat. It somehow shook you and made your heart shudder. Gamzee pushes you right next to him and he sits down in the typical school desk. He hums another random tune as he brings a couple of pills up to his mouth and chewed them happily. They looked like pain killers.

"Was that, uh, medicine?" You ask.

"Well," he swallows, "You can say that." he chuckles. You then remember what a massive druggy Gamzee is rumored to be. Guess it's true. According to everyone you know, he's always high, and it's a rare occasion for him to be sober. That's usually when he's just out at the moment, or something's terribly wrong.

"Oh." you respond. "I'm not a... fan, of drugs."

He laughs, "Not expectin' ya to be."

Abruptly, the door opens and a couple of people walk into the room. It was your friends Sollux and Karkat. Sollux was first to speak,

"Oh Travoth, thank god you're al- Jethuth Chrith!" your friend yells as he spots the wheelchair and the missing legs. Karkat looks over and shock was painted all over his face.

"Tav, Jesus, what the hell did you DO to yourself!" Karkat rushes over, then he glances over at Gamzee, "And what the fuck are you doing with this clown?"

"Hey they Kar." Gamzee happily replies, waving lazily. Kar rolls his eyes.

"Gamzee, you're high, aren't you?" Nags Karkat. Gamzee nods heavily.

"Like a motherfucking astronaut, brother." Karkat groans annoyed and you laugh a little.

You regurgitate the story to your two friends as to what happened to your legs and why you're in a wheel chair.

"Wow, I'm schorry to hear that. I juth hope you'll be alright. I know Vrithka already givthz you a hard time, I can't imagine what sche'll do when sche theethz you." Sollux says, sitting down.

"Y-Yeah. I guess I'm already, uh, prepared for the worst from her. I'm glad that I don't have class with her until later on. Uh, today, of course." Your voice rattles out. Though you try to hide it, you're actually extremely paranoid as to what will happen when she sees you in a wheelchair, legs completely gone.

oH gOD, SHE'S GOING TO HAVE A FIELD DAY WITH ME,
oH WELL,
i ALREADY KINDA EXPECTED THIS, i GUESS i'LL BE FINE,

You're trying very hard to cope with your nervousness due to the unavoidable events that will have you spiral into a dangerously emotional mood.

"It's Vriska, let her just do whatever the fuck she wants. But remember-whatever she says don't take it personally. Besides, all she's out to do is pump up her pathetic ego and get her kicks, because honestly, she literally has nothing else better to do with her life." Karkat rants, sitting next to Sollux.

"I-I know."

Other kids begin to pour in. Some care about your condition, some don't even look over. You know you're not the most popular kid. The fact that you have a horrible speech impediment is a problem within itself. But now that you're in a wheelchair, you can't help but feel you're moving lower and lower on the 'interesting' scale. You sigh heavily and let your hand hang from the back of your neck.

When Mr. Egbert enters, you two talk for a bit. He asks the typical 'Are you ok?' 'Tell me if you need something' 'If you have a tough time let me know.' so on and so forth. Boy you're going to get a boat loads of sympathy from the teachers. After the chat, the bell rings and Mr. Egbert takes his place in front of the class and claps his hands together to get everyones attention.

"G'morning everyone! How ya doin?" The class responds in a careless murmur. "Great! Now today I want you guys to prepare your essay idea of the theme for Con-Air. I want you all to organize your thoughts and brainstorm. Today is a work day so talk amongst yourself and get stuff done! I'll answer any questions anyone has." Mr. Egbert then returns to his desk to watch Con-Air himself like he always does on work days.

You can already tell that only 30% of class is actually doing what they were told and the rest are just talking aimlessly. You scribble down some ideas in your notebook until Gamzee began to fondle your mohawk.

"Does this feel weird? Like, having only this part of your hair?" His fingers graze the buzzed portion of your hair. "Whoa, this feel motherfucking awesome!" You gasp and squirm away.

"Don't do that! It tickles..."

"Whoa! Sorry brother." Gamzee puts his hands in the air playfully. He smiles and leans back in his seat. "Did I ever tell you how motherfuckin cool you name sounds? Tavros! Damn, that shit feels fine to say." The way his groggy voice said you name made you have chills down your back. You're not exactly sure how to interpret the reaction but you brush it off.

"Oh, um, th-thanks I think."

"Yeah bro." He says closing his eyes, becoming relaxed. He then sits up straight and looks at you with the biggest grin. "Tavbro!"

"What?"

"Tavbro! That's what I should call you!"

"I-I don't-"

"It's a beautiful combination of your wicked name and bro! Damn, I just created some miracles all up in here!" He states, eccentric of his new creation. You can't help but laugh at how excited he for something so simple. He joins you in laughing. You wipe the small tears from your eyes, and look over at him. You suddenly feel uncomfortable because you realize that Gamzee is staring at you with a blank expression.

"G-Gamzee?" You stutter. No response. Then his eyes widen.

"Oh." He finally says, he turns his head away. "Oh yeah, um, sorry." He grabs his forehead. "Y-You were sayin' something, bro?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Right, right." Now both of his hands are caressing his face, "'Course you didn't brother."

"Gamzee are you ok?" You ask, worried.

"Yeah no I'm fine, I just," He sneaks a couple more pills into his mouth, "I just need to motherfuckin calm down. M'heads all up 'nd crazy right now."

"O-Okay." You decide to pat his shoulder as a gesture of comfort, for whatever his problem is. He flinches at contact and looks at you. Then his casual smile returns and you're relieved. "H-Hey, I know you're supposed to be watching me but if you, uh, if you have any problems, you better let me know. I'm here for you too." Gamzee sits up and chuckles.

"Tavbro, you're the coolest friend a mother fucker can have."

"Wait, what?" you say shocked, "Y-you think we're friends?" Gamzee waves his finger in the air.

"BEST friends, you mean." You can feel your whole entire face light up. Just when you thought this was going to be the worst day of your life, you've managed to make a new friend!

"Oh wow! That, that's great!" you voiced, happily. Gamzee snickered.

oH GOSH, mAYBE THIS bANDANA REALLY DOES WORK, You think stupidly.

He grabs your shoulder that's farthest from him and pulls you in for a brief hug. Blood rushes to your face because his touch feels a little... different from everyone else. It makes your heart race, and when he lets go, you feel a little disappointed. Biting your smile, you try to not show it.

A little less than 10 minutes before the end of class, Gamzee told the teacher he needed to escort you to the next classroom before the hallways are too crowded. Mr. Egbert let us go without another thought because he was so focused on his favorite movie. You both say bye to Sol & Karkat. Gamzee ruffles Karkats hair and Kar freaks out, threatening murder on to him. You both laugh then leave.

"Wait. Gamzee," you say, "We don't even need this much time.."

"I know, but I have this... thing I gotta do real fast." His voice rambled, bringing your wheelchair over by the restroom. After parking you close by, Gamzee then tugged over his backpack and emptied onto the counter what seemed to be... Halloween Makeup?

"Uh, what exactly is that for?" Gamzee shrugs, smile gone.

"Just... something to cover me up. Don't feel very comfortable without it." His hands clenched around a small jar of a white face paint. He proceeds to apply a thick layer of white all around his face with his fingers. He then opens up a second container and his fingers swipe at the pale deep purple inside. Very carefully, he spreads it around his eyes, covering his eyelids and underneath. Another swob at the make up. He paints a smile across his lips, stares at his face, then smiles in satisfaction and turns around to present himself to you. He smiles proudly,

"Good as new! What do you think?" The white so bright and out of place in comparison to how dark everything he had. It was clear to you Gamzee was hiding something from you. 'Not Comfortable' didn't sound like the whole story. But you decide not to pry, and play along.

"Y-You look great." you try to say.

"Fan-motherfuckin'-tastic!" He exclaims. He packs up his clown kit and continues to push you down the hallway. You wish you knew more about Gamzee. Something told you he had some dark secrets. If you just knew what those were, you might be able to help him and it bugs you that you can't do much.

You just, for some reason, want to be close with him.