Chapter Text
== > Let’s begin with gamzee.
Gamzee never forgot what it felt like to die.
He simply wouldn’t let himself forget. He alone had to carry the burden of his memories. Be it if his death, the horrible things he did to his friends, but worst of all:
The happy times he had with his friends.
The laughs and joyous things they got up to when they played Sgrub, even if he was fried out of his mind on the slime. It made everything so starglazed, seeming to be more rose colored than it actually was. His fingertips tingle when he remembers such things, as if flexing his hands in the nothingness before him would make the memories tangible. The only thing tangible was the ache of his death, it never left him. He never wanted it to, it was the last thing he could keep gripped in his hands. The full ache in his stomach, the dry feeling in his throat, and how much his eyes hurt when he blinked, as if the insides of his eyes were lined with sandpaper.
== > gamzee, how did you die?
The fridge.
He sat in there for eons it felt like, scratching at it endlessly until he bled, he knew no one was listening and that no one would come. He didn’t deserve it, but he still held onto the fools hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d make it. The only thing keeping him alive was the control lord English had over his body, just like the batterwitch. Lord English kept gamzee alive to use as a spy and a weapon but once he realized gamzee had no use, he…..let him go. He relinquished control back to Gamzee but the damage was done and nothing could be salvaged. So gamzee laid in there, suffocating and dying slowly, painfully, and most of all: Alone.
Eventually the fear ebbed away and exhaustion took over and he closed his eyes and when they reopened, the fridge opened and when he sat up he could smell the sea salt in the air and hear the waves.
He was home.
== > gamzee, Is this where you are now?
Well, before we get to now, let’s look at the past just a little longer;
The dream bubble was home, and just like home, he was alone. But he figured he deserved a destination like this so he never argued. He’d spend an eternity here if it meant he didn’t have to see the disappointed looks on the faces of his friends.
He spent an unknown amount of time there alone, the days never changed, he preferred if they didn’t so he didn’t have the misfortune of experiencing the alternian sun again. He did nothing but reflect and breathe in the deep nostalgia all around him at first, he never got visitors and when he did he hid until they left. He lazed around in horn piles and painted on the walls in purple, no rainbows here. He’d spend days on the beach, sometimes swimming and trying to get his gills to work (though they never did for long). One day when he broke the surface of the water he wasn’t alone and was paralyzed with fear.
Staring back were the eyes of his caretaker, his lusus, he who was supposed to take care of and nurture gamzee.
Goatdad.
So many different feelings and thoughts ran through gamzee, so much anger and sadness. He was alone so much when he was alive and yearned for nothing more than goatdads care. He could do it this time, he could open his mouth to scream and shout, tell his lusus about the pain he’d been through and how he was a failure to his bloodline, his friends, to himself. All of those dark sad feelings curled and built in Gamzee's stomach in the very presence of the one who was to protect him. He gripped at his lusus and opened his mouth to dump every horror terror that had built within.
But all that came out was wails.
The wails of a child. The crying and sobbing of a wriggler who got stuck on their back. The hiccups of a boy who was shattered like a prince Rupert's drop when the tail is pinched. Big purple tears dropped into the water beneath them as he begged in a hoarse and broken voice for goatdad to never leave him again. He was sorry, so sorry, he’ll be better, just please please don’t leave him again. Goatdad, ever the conversationalist, responded by nuzzling gamzee, for as long as his precious ward needed. In that moment gamzee felt like a wriggler again, small and vulnerable at the mercy of the world.
He spent as long as he could in the bubbles and goatdad never left, making up for lost time and gamzee put off those lonely feelings within him once more.
Until the bubble popped.
== > so…where is gamzee now?
We’ll get to that, just let me finish
== > sure
He was on the beach with Goatdad, having a picnic, letting the waves wet his legs and pants as he held plates of food up to his lusus when everything paused. The sky broke out in a delirious spider web of cracks, gamzee's arms began to shake and he suddenly felt….tired? Goatdad used his front hooves to pull himself out of the water and onto the beach and urged gamzee to come lay upon him. Gamzee was mad confused but who was he to argue with a mother Fucker that was right. He curled against him and nuzzled his face into his damp fur and took deep slow breaths until he fell asleep.
Goat dad leaned down and wrapped himself as tight as he could around Gamzee. This would be his last apology for abandoning him so often, gamzee could not understand or hear goatdads thoughts but he forgave him all the same.
The sounds of the waves pulled gamzee asleep deeper and deeper, a lullaby just for him. When he awoke again he’d apologize for having to cut the picnic short and they could pick up once more where they left off.
== > did they?
Unfortunately, no.
When gamzee awoke he was under the shade of a tree, the sound of waves never leaving his ears and the warm sun was on his arms.
But….the sun didn’t hurt.
He sat with a panic around him, hyperventilating and when he looked down he was back in that outfit. That vile purple and filth stained outfit. Several feet in front of him was the fridge, busted open and empty. He was looking around for Goatdad who wasn’t there, he was gone once again. Even when gamzee dove into the water and swam for hours until sunset and his body felt like it was going give out, his outfit soaked and weighing him down. He sat on that beach front for hours through the night, watching the moons reflected in the water until the sun began to rise behind him and his stomach began to ache and growl.
He cried.
He sobbed into his hands and begged that whatever higher power was listening to kill him again.
He was alive again.
Nothing hurt more than being alive again.
== > where was he?
Once the game was won, everyone who died was given the gift of life once again, they didn't know gamzee was also given such a gift. Nor did they know he made it to the other side as well. His fridge landed on the beach a few miles away from a lovely beachside town. Prospititians, dersites, trolls, and humans all lived together here. No blood caste, no cullings, no bloodline expectations. Gamzee was in a bright paradise, a world where he was free. Where they were all free.
A few miles down the coast from where his fridge landed there was an abandoned shack. He converted it to the coziest place a motherfucker of his standing could live in, a pile of old clothes and tarps for a bed to sleep in. He didn’t do much for furniture but he did manage to use a nearby river to wash himself. He did his best to get jobs in town doing small things for coins to buy new clothes, one of the prospitians taught him the skill of gardening and it wasn’t before long that he had his own little stall in the town market selling sad looking vegetables.
Everyday he kept vigilant for his friends, not that he was looking for them, but that they could be looking for /him/. He kept to himself, conversations kept small and private, no one visited his home and he didn’t visit anyones. Days were spent gardening, running errands and tasks, or working on his shack to keep out leaks and cold breezes. Nights were spent often sleepless, staring out at the moon's reflections and waiting for goatdad to rise from the water. Often gamzee got lost in the fantasy of seeing him, he’d chastise him and pretend to be mad again. Only to break down into relieved tears and welcome him back.
But he never came back.
And two years passed without error or issue.
== > can we see gamzee right now?
Now we can, yes.
He’s at his stall like any other day, he’d just sold an eggplant he was particularly proud of, he spent so long nursing it and got a decent amount for it. His stall neighbor gave him a thumbs up and mouthed ‘good job’ which he laughed at. He looked back down at the table and reached out to begin to rearrange a few things to cover the now empty spot. All in all he was overjoyed with the monotony of his new life, gamzee was content with dying in obscurity, maybe this time he’d swim out and let his body give out and sink to the bottom of the ocean so no one would have to see his body-
“Excuse me?” His hand froze, his sun hat blocked his view so all he could see was the waist down of his customer, “Your produce looks really, good.” His chest was tight, as if someone was crushing it. He didn’t want to look up, he couldn’t.
== > Do it anyway. Look. Now.
When he lifted his head time stopped, how cliche right?
Standing before him was a ghost, a vision, a person gamzee had been avoiding since the meteor, his shameful actions had kept him from thinking about them since he was in the bubble.
He was taller, he’d grown into his facial features and become a work of art, a real….miracle. His eyes had begun to tint to show his rich bronze blood. His mohawk had grown out and shaped into a mullet, the sides had grown in and needed to be touched up. There were shiny pieces of metal in his ears and septum, gamzee could see the imprint of his top canines threatening to poke out. His face was dotted with freckles down his jaw to his neck and probably beyond. Around his neck were necklaces that bore the same symbol as his shirt under his vest, to gamzee he was carved from the very miracles that his fellow subjuggulators spoke of. When he smiled gamzee could drop fucking dead right there and not a single regret would keep him hanging on.
== > gamzee, what miracle has been shown before you today?
“Tav? Is that really you? I’m not seein’ shit right?” His voice wobbled just a bit, he reached out to touch but held back, that would be mad weird right??? Tavros met him halfway and leaned in, letting Gamzee's fingertips graze his chest.
“It’s really me, I didn’t think I’d find you here, haha” his voice was deeper, but gamzee could still hear the underlying tones of his bro. He snatched his hand back as if he were burned when he could feel Tavros’ voice vibrating through his chest, his heart pumping.
“What are you doing here?” Was the only question gamzee could make out in the sea of questions that burst from his brain. How are you here? Do you remember everything? Are you my tavros? How did you find me? Are you here to kill m-
“That’s kind of, uh, a long story-“ he laughs and gamzee swears the sun gets brighter,”-if you have time for it that is”
Gamzee casts a glance at his stall neighbor who’s waving her hands to usher him off, she’ll watch and close if he doesn’t return and he’ll get his money. He could just kiss that woman sometimes. He gives her a smile and after removing his apron he walks around and joins tavros on a leisure walk through the rest of the market.
“For you Tavbro? Times’ all a motherfuckers got” walking next to tavros he noticed that he still had a few inches on him, but that was to be expected given Gamzees lineage, “Now lay down some miraculous tales for a brother” His snicker is a warm comfort as tavros begins regaling gamzee with tales of his own adventures.
== > tavros, what's up?
Well, gamzee asked to hear it from the start, so let’s go back to his death.