Warnings (Feel free to skip them if you don't care):

Before we start, I'd just like to say that drugs are bad, kiddies. You should never aspire to be as dependent on drugs as Gamzee is in this story. Don't aspire to be that dependent on anything. Another warning- I have never been on drugs, nor have I ever been to a rehab clinic. This story will probably be a (very large) stretch from what it's really like (in fact, I'm pretty sure Rehab Clinics work nothing like how I portray them), but I will try my best to convey realism. Yeah, so… Don't take it too seriously.

Now that that's over with, this story is for my friend. I hope she likes the story, and I hope you guys do, too~ :D

Your name is Gamzee Makara. Your name is Gamzee Makara, and they have no idea what you're like when you're sober. You aren't a good person by any stretch of the word when you're sober. You don't think straight. The world feels heavier when you're sober- it presses down on your fucking shoulders and forces you on your knees. You're one motherfucker who shouldn't be kept away from his greens for very long. Being sober does worse things to your mind than being high does. Everyone who knows you knows that. You're just not the same.

Karkat was one of the people who have seen you sober- a person who truly experienced what you're like when you haven't smoked for days. So you have no motherfucking idea why the hell he, of all people, would be the one to send you to a rehab center. He sent you to a place where you would be sober for days on end; a place where they'd hope to take away your drugs forever. Hm. And you thought the motherfucker was supposed to be your friend.

"This place is against miracles," You said as Karkat pulled you out of the car and onto the sidewalk. For now, you're as cool as a motherfucking cucumber, but that's only because you're still a bit stoned from the last joint you had. It was wearing off fast, though. It'd be only a matter of time before shit hit the fan.

"Well fuck, Gamzee." Karkat says, furrowing his eyebrows impatiently. "I could have taken you to a church. Then Jesus could have flown off the cross and sprinkled magic miracle flakes on top of your head or something."

"Or you could have just let me bake some hash brownies," You say temptingly. "I would have shared."

Karkat rolls his eyes and tries to drag you along by your wrist, but you're much taller and stronger than he is. You give him a goofy smile, but on the inside you were still relatively pissed.

Karkat clicks his tongue, nodding in the direction of the rehab office. It was a big place with two large steel framed doors. Doors that didn't look very inviting. You think they should have painted it a different color. Maybe purple, or blue.

"Fuckass, are you going to move, or am I going to have to tie you to the back of my car and crash you in there?"

You smile, staying exactly where you were. "Calm down a little, Karkat. Let's just stay here and admire some miracles before those motherfuckers take them away from me."

Karkat sighs loudly and let's go of your wrist. "You have five seconds. No fucking more than that."

So you relish your five seconds by watching little fucking miracles crawling around on the grass- they're called, uh, ants, right? You watch them carry around blades of grass. You can't figure out whether you should be jealous of them- the fact that they get to have their greens while you can't- or happy that they're free. You can hear Karkat talking to himself about you being a hippie, but you don't care. You're happy, for now, noticing the little things in life.

"C'mon, asshole." Karkat says, tugging on your wrist again. He takes a deep breath and looks into your eyes. You stare back. For a while it's a staring contest. Then, Karkat hugs you. It's something that doesn't happen very often. "I just want you to get fucking better."

You wanted to say something along the lines of how this isn't going to help, that you're completely fine how you are and how this was just going to make you worse, but you didn't. For Karkat's fucking sake, you hope that this makes him happy. You'd try not to break a nurse's arm or something.

Ruffling your friend's messy black hair, you follow him into the large building ahead. You'd find some way to sneak something in there. If they think speeches and talk groups are going to change you, they have another thing coming.

"Yeah, he gets a little agitated without it." Karkat says to the lady at the counter. She nods, jotting down notes in her little black book. You look at the name tag stuck onto her blue striped shirt that read 'Jade Harley' in cute, curly green handwriting.

You sat in a cheap metal chair, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. Sometimes, despite what it does to your eyes, you just like to stare at bright things in wonder.

"Would he work better with a group or separately?"

You hate this. You feel like a little kid being ripped away from an amusement park. You realize that you won't have anything to smoke for a while. You dig your nails into your palm.

"He'd be best alone."

Fuck yeah, you would. That's why Karkat should just leave you alone. You're best by yourself. You gnaw at the bottom of your lip, and that Jade motherfucker looks over at you with worried eyes.

"Is he, uh, under the influence right now?" She asks nervously in a small voice. You wonder how qualified she is for the job. She looks younger than you- she couldn't possibly even begin to comprehend what your weed means to you. She hasn't fully experienced miracles. She didn't know.

Karkat gives you a sideways look, an expression that read he was sorry, and then turned back to Jade. "If he weren't, he'd be at all of our throats."

"Oh." The little girl looks nervous. "So does that mean I should assign him a strict warden?"

Karkat drums his fingers on the table. "Not strict… Just, someone who understands, if that makes sense. He gets really crazy without it, so just someone who would be able to calm him. Just like, pat his face without getting too scared."

You guess you have some faith in Karkat's decision. He's just looking out for you. Fuck, he probably knows better than you. You're still fully stuck on the idea that you're best the way you are, but you'll entertain your friend's plan for as long as you could.

"O-okay," Jade jots some more notes down in the black notebook and types some things into the computer. "Will he be staying in one of the dorms? Or is he going home after each visit?"

"He'll stay."

Oh fuck no. Why would your motherfucking best friend do that to you?

"Alright," Jade says with a smile. She looked over at you again and waves. You don't wave back. She looks down bashfully and bites the inside of her cheek. "Uh, well… You're going to be paying for this?"

Karkat nodded, and you felt something in your throat. Guilt- that's what was bubbled up in your throat. He really, really didn't have to do this. You don't know why he is.

"The cost for a one-month, individual treatment procedure- plus the cost of the overnight stay- would come out to be $24, 000 dollars." Jade states simply and Karkat curses rather loudly underneath his breath.

"Uh, hey, Karkat." You say from your seat in the metal chair. "Seriously, don't do that. You're a good motherfucker, but it's not worth it, brother."

Jade sheepishly grins, "Uh, well, if it's a financial problem, we can find out an alternative way of payment, like community service or-"

"No. No fucking way," Karkat growls, digging through his pocket to get to his wallet. "Can I just put this all on a damn credit card? I'm not gonna fuck around at some old people's home or some shit."

Jade nods, taking Karkat's credit card and swiping it from that thing that people swipe credit cards through- you never knew what the fuck those things were called- and hands it back.

"Will you be visiting often?" The girl asks, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. You walk closer to the counter; close enough for Jade to get a better look at your face. Her eyes get wide, and she immediately looks down at her notebook again. She scribbles more notes frantically and gives Karkat a worried look.

She noticed your scars and was judging you for them.

"Yeah," Karkat replies, turning to you. "I'll be visiting as often as I can."

You shake your head, patting Karkat on the head a few times. "You are one insane motherfucker."

"-And you're a fuckass." Your friend adds, pushing you lightly away from him. You smile and open your arms wide.

"C'mon. One hug, for the motherfucking road?"

Karkat rolls his eyes and hugs you with little protest.

Jade pressed a button on the desk and called for a warden to escort you to your dorm. "Nurse Nitram? Yes, we have a patient for you. Lead him to room 6 C, on the left. You got that? Alright. Thanks."

Before letting go of Karkat, you gave him a soft peck on the forehead. He pulls away, blushing furiously- but to your astonishment, he doesn't blow up on you like you thought he would. Surprisingly, he leaves the rehab clinic wordlessly, turning around and waving to you before exiting the building. You hope he wasn't full of bullshit with the whole 'I'll be visiting as often as I can' thing. It would help a lot if you had a friend here with you.

You wrap your arms across your chest and go back to sitting in the cheap metal chair. You really don't like how it smells in this place- it was too clean and sterile. It smelled like a hospital, and you fucking hated motherfucking hospitals. They gave you bad memories. Hell, any memories that you had of being sober were bad memories. They flooded your mind like someone had broken the dam to your sanity and just let all the motherfucking sense leak out of your ears.

Jade was staring at your scars again. She was probably confused as to why she hadn't seen them in the first place, since they were pretty fucking apparent on your face. You've tried cover up, but the scratches still showed through no matter how much powder you layered onto your face. You just learned to not give a fuck about what people thought, even though the stares people gave you were still unsettling.

There were three diagonal scratches starting from the middle of your forehead that stretched across the entirety of your face. One even just barely missed your eye- a fact that you're thankful for, because if it had gotten your eye, it would have most likely been ripped out of its socket. You only remember how it happened in bits and pieces. Karkat says that it's your subconscious trying to forget- you say that it's you not giving a fuck.

It was one of your ex-girlfriends. You had had plenty in the past. Bitches love you. They clamored and fawned and flirted; you couldn't help but give in to some of them. She had just gotten a manicure, her new nails French tipped and painted a deep royal purple. She went on to say that it was funny how the both of you loved that shade of purple.

She was one of the girls who tried to change you to become 'better'. She took away your weed and shoved it down the kitchen sink, making sure to turn on the garbage disposal on afterwards. In other words, she was a crazy bitch- but you guess she meant well.

So you were sober when this happened. When shit flew off the handle like shit was a newborn baby chick and was being pushed out of its nest for the first time, you were sober. You're always sober when bad things happen. You're not sure what you said, or what she said, or if there were any words even exchanged between the both of you, but something happened. Something happened that had her gripping at your shoulders, her nails digging underneath your shoulder blade and all across your back. She slashed her nails across your face in one quick, swift motion. You remember the antagonizing sting as the blood started to flow down your face, and that's when you think that's when you lost it. You tore her off of your body and forcefully threw her to the floor. You remember her screaming for you to stop; you remember her crying as your fist pummeled her body. Karkat told you that you beat her within an inch of her life, but you don't remember. All you remember is passing out, her cries for help playing in the background of a black screen; the end credits' last song without the text.

You beat her into a coma, Karkat said. He had a tough time explaining that to the doctors, but he told them a twisted version of the truth. He walked into your apartment and found the both of you beat up and on the floor. You claimed to have amnesia- which was also true- and your ex-girlfriend wasn't exactly conscious at the time to give any explanation. You haven't heard from her since.

You're a good guy, though. You're a good guy when you're stoned. When you're sober…

You see a male warden in pale blue scrubs round the corner and walk to Jade. He had an untidy black Mohawk and sweet blue eyes; you couldn't help but stare at him. He seemed pretty chill, if not a little worried.

"Uh, Jade. Where's the, uh, guy?" He asks, looking around nervously.

Jade, who had never taken her eyes off of your scars, nods her head towards you.

You wave at the Mohawk guy, and he looks behind him to make sure you weren't waving at someone else. When he makes sure you're waving at him, he waves back at you and smiles nervously. You decide he's cute.

He walks towards you, his eyes on the ground as he does, and then looks up. He stares at your scars- and just like Jade- his eyes widen. He looked kind of scared, but he held out his hand firmly. "I'm uh- Tavros. Tavros Nitram. You can, uh, call me Nurse Tavros or uh, Nurse Nitram…"

You shrug and take his hand, shaking it roughly. Tavros seems a little unsettled about this, but he smiled anyway. "Gamzee Ma-fucking-kara. Nice to meet you, Tavbro."

"Uh," He looks at the floor, and then he looks to the side. "It's uh- you kinda have to call me nurse- I mean, I don't have a problem with it, but it's just regulation…"

You stand up and marvel at how much taller you are than him. You pat the poor guy on the back and laugh. "Fine, I'll call you Nurse Tavbro, then."

Tavros bit his bottom lip and shied away from your touch. You wonder if he's scared of your scars or if he's just a scared person in general. It was probably a little bit of both.

"Your room is this way." He says quietly, leading you to the hallway on the left. You follow him with no complaint, but in the back of your mind you can feel it. You can feel the longing for a joint wriggling its way into your brain. You have to bite the inside of your lip to keep some composure. You take a deep breath and continue walking with him, looking at the doors and their numbers.

"Uh, C rooms are on the second floor, so I hope you're okay with elevators." Tavros explains, stepping in through open elevator doors. You follow, watching as Tavros pushes the second button on the button panel.

You shrug, "Are you okay with motherfucking elevators?"

Tavros seems a little put off by your foul language, but he nods. "Uh, yeah. Elevators are nice."

"Good. I consider elevators motherfucking miracles. I mean, you press a button and it takes you higher. Who even tells it to do that? Miracles. That's what." You smile and look at the roof of the elevator. Maybe if you close your eyes you can pretend you're on a rising wave or some shit.

"Uh, yeah." You hear Tavros say again, uneasily. "Elevators are nice."

"You said that already, Nurse Tavbro." You're very amused at his nervousness. Is everyone who works at this place like that? Is everyone here shy little flowers? If so, they're going to be in for quite a surprise when your high wears off, and you're left sober with nothing to suppress your more violent urges.

"Oh, sorry. I uh, I guess."

You wonder why Tavros works at a place that makes him interact with people when he's so shy and nervous. Especially highly temperamental and depraved people such as the kinds of people who go to this rehab place. They really, really need to get better qualified people there, you think- but what the fuck do you know?

The elevator stops after a few seconds, and Tavros steps out of the elevator, motioning to you to get out as well. You follow him down some bleak beige hallways, looking at the doors where other people just like you- depraved, frustrated- were occupying. You wonder how they feel. You wonder if they think that this is all just pointless like you do. You wonder if they truly are better than they used to be, but you kind of doubt it. Just a little bit.

"This is your room." Tavros said when you approached a door labeled 6 C and opened the door, escorting you into the room.

You're surprised to see that the room is actually pretty nice. It looks more like a hotel room than the jail cell or hospital room you thought it'd look like. You guess that if Karkat was going to pay that much money for this stupid motherfucking stay, it had better look nice.

"Do you like it?" Tavros asks, standing in the doorframe awkwardly.

Its motherfucking cozy, you suppose. There was a twin sized bed pushed to the corner of the room, its red sheets tucked in neatly. Above the bed were two metal plated windows covered by tan curtains. A small alarm clock and radio were situated next to the bed on a drawer. You turn to Tavros and smile.

"It seems pretty motherfucking okay, Tavbro." And you mean it.

"Good." Tavros grins, "Uh, the windows are shatterproof… They do that just in case you try to break out. They're, uh, sealed. You can't open them and try to leave either."

You weren't thinking about doing that, especially since you were on the second floor. You give Tavbro a sideways look, "Why would a motherfucker try to escape from a second story window?"

Tavros shyly looks at the ground, sticking his hand into the pocket of his scrubs. "Well, some people get depressed and they, uh."

"They all up and motherfucking jump?" You think about this for a while. Seems too motherfucking messy for you.

"Y-yeah." Tavros says, shuffling his feet on the carpet. "I know someone who did. I was looking after her, actually, so it'd be nice if you didn't, uh…"

"Ah, Tavbro. No worries. That's not the way I'd off myself if I wanted to off myself, you get it?" You don't think the motherfucker does, but he nods anyway and continues to look at the ground.

"Yeah, thank you. That'd be, uh, nice." Tavros whispers, looking at his wrist watch and then back at you. "It's getting late… I should let you get comfortable here, so I'll, uh, leave."

You walk closer to him and ruffle his Mohawk. It's softer than you thought it would be, considering you thought that it would be jelled and hard, but it's quite the motherfucking opposite. Tavros stays there, shocked maybe, and you laugh at his expression.

"You need to learn how to motherfucking lighten up. We should be bros." You say, patting Tavros on the back. Tavros gives a sheepish smile and steps away from your touch.

"T-thanks. Uh, we'll talk tomorrow, if you want. We can uh, 'chill'?"

"Motherfucking yeah, man!" You smile at him, and he chuckles nervously.

"Seriously, though. I have to go and, uh, attend to some of my other patients." Tavros smiles at you- and for the first time you think it's a comfortable, real smile. It's a beautiful miracle that you're glad you were a part of.

You wave at him and smile as he walks away. You had a feeling you two could be really good motherfucking bros. You two would get along well- as long as you weren't sober. You don't get along well with anyone when you're sober, and you know your slight high won't last until tomorrow. You're motherfucking upset about that, because you really wanted to hang out with Tavros, too.

You hope Karkat is fucking happy.

Scratch that. You hope Karkat is fucking ecstatic. You dig your nails into the sheets, the urge for a blunt overwhelming you. You've gone without weed for a day or two before, but only because of that damned ex-girlfriend. Your stoned-self feels really bad and remorseful for what you did to her- he regrets it and never wants to do that to anyone else ever again. Your sober-self, however, does not have the word 'sorry' or any of its synonyms in his vocabulary. He's a monster. You hate calling him 'you'.

You know how to overcome the first day pretty easily. You have to keep reminding yourself that you'll get a motherfucking hit later. It was hard, but you managed to get through it. Your ex-girlfriend was proud of you.

It's different this time, though. You know in the back of your think-pan that you won't be getting a hit later. This place was designed to rip you away from your miracles and strip you down to your unforgiving, piece of shit sober-self for the rest of your life. Goddammit, you weren't going to be like that. You hope Karkat is just filled with fucking happiness. You hope he's taking a bath in a big, motherfucking pool of joy and singing mushy ass songs from those romantic comedies he always watches.

You hear a knock on the door. You really hope it isn't someone who'll annoy you to the point where you break. You hope that you won't pound the motherfucker's face in.

The door opens, and you see Karkat and Tavros carrying some bags with them. You almost immediately want to wrap your hands around Karkat's throat and strangle him to death, but you hold back. You hold back just because Tavros is there, and you're pretty sure he wouldn't want to be bros with you if he sees you strangling another guy right in front of him.

Karkat sets the bags down and inspects the room. "Not bad," You hear him say, and you pat him rather roughly on the head.

"How have you motherfucking been, Karkat?" You ask, and you know Karkat hears the slight edge to your voice.

Your friend sighs, patting your face like he always does to calm you down. He looks at Tavros, "If he ever gets worked up, just do this. No matter how scary he gets or acts- no matter if he tries to rip your face off, just do this. I have no idea why it works, but it does."

Tavros nods, looking a little nervous and pale. "He, uh, has a tendency to rip people's faces off?"

"Only when he's sober," Karkat sighs, 'shooshing' and 'papping' you until you're as chill as a motherfucking iceberg.

Tavros stood there awkwardly, watching as Karkat calmed you down. He looked torn between wanting to walk away and wanting to take notes. You smile at him.

"Aw, come on Tavbro." You say teasingly, walking over to him and opening your arms for a hug. "Join the motherfucking miracle that's taking place right now."

Tavros awkwardly scuttles into your arms. You tightly envelop him in a hug. He eventually moves his arms to hug you back, and you could feel his heart beat wildly against yours. You laugh at his nervousness, turning to Karkat.

"Oh hell fucking no, Gamzee." Karkat scowls, sitting down on the bed next to the bags. "You guys have your little mushy gushy moment, I'll just stay here, thank you very much."

You roll your eyes, "C'mon. We'll just be one big motherfucking bro sandwich."

Tavros makes a squeaking noise, and you're brought to attention that you're still tightly holding him. You let go, and Tavros takes a few indiscrete steps backwards.

"Uh," Tavros begins shyly, looking away from you, "You have an appointment with Doctor Ampora today."

You can't help but grimace a little bit at the word Doctor. You didn't really like them. It was sort of a phobia, but you'd try not to flip your lid.

"And after that," Tavros continues, "You need to go listen to a seminar about how drugs affect your body…"

You contemplate falling asleep during the seminar instead of actually listening to it, like you used to do during school assemblies.

"After that, what do I do?" You ask.

Tavros shrugs, looking down at his feet. "We have, uh, group activities where all the members go out and do things under the supervision of wardens, uh… I think they do pottery-"

Karkat bursts out into a fit of laughs at that, almost doubling over on the bed. "S-sorry, I was just imagining a bunch of stoners trying to work a kiln."

You smile at your friend, "What? You don't think this motherfucker can work an oven? I'm the best motherfucking druggie cook ever."

Tavros clears his throat, "Uh, we don't encourage calling the patients here any derogatory terms that involve their, uh, affliction."

Shaking your head, you wrap your arm around Tavros's shoulder. "Lighten up, Tavbro-"

"Nurse,"

"Nurse Tavbro," You correct, laughing. "You need to just chill. Take a moment and appreciate all of life's miracles."

Karkat scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Here we go again, you and your fucking miracles. I think we've found the second coming of Christ, guys. He's an insane stoner."

Tavros sighs and looks at you, "Well, it doesn't really matter what the group does… You enrolled in the individual treatment course, so anything you'd do would be by yourself and a warden."

"Do I get to all up and choose my warden?"

"Well, I'm your assigned warden, so…" Tavros blushes, "You're kinda stuck with me."

"Good!" You exclaim, clasping your hands together. "I would have chosen you any way, Tavbro."

Tavros doesn't correct you on not using 'Nurse', but instead he sighs and looks down at his wristwatch. "It's almost time for your appointment, so, uh, we'd better get going."

Karkat groans, sitting up from the bed. "I'm taking that as my signal to leave."

You watch as Karkat gets up and playfully punches your shoulder, whispering something to Tavros that you can't quite hear. Tavros nods at whatever the motherfucker said, and Karkat leaves silently afterwards.

Doctor Ampora is a really big dick. You find this out while sitting on top of a gurney, your arm being exposed so that they could take your blood and do some tests. You're more on the muscular side than you are on the lanky-olive-branch side, and that's the first thing Doctor Ampora comments on.

"W-well, aren't w-we rather muscular?" He says, snapping some gloves onto his slender hands. You notice that he's wearing a blue scarf. A doctor wearing a blue scarf while taking blood from a patient. Again, you wonder about the qualifications of the people associated with this clinic. "My name is Eridan Ampora, but you may address me as Doctor Ampora."

"Why thank you, motherfucking doctor guy." You said, and Doctor Ampora rolls his eyes. "Gamzee motherfucking Makara is my name."

"Perhaps you ought to w-watch your mouth, Mr. Makara." Doctor Ampora says, drawing out a needle from one of the cabinets that surrounded the room. "Remember that I have the needle."

His stuttering with the 'w's annoys you somewhat, but you ignore it, flinching slightly when the needle penetrates your skin.

"I see you aren't a heroine user, then." Eridan whispers to himself rather loudly, extracting some blood. "They never flinch w-when the needle enters them. They're used to it, I guess."

You frown a little, "That's a little harsh, doctor dude."

"They don't pay me to be nice." He replies, putting the blood sample somewhere- you don't exactly remember because you were too busy noticing how much of a douchebag he was- and gave you band aid to put over the wound from the needle.

He ran a few other medical tests on you, too. He measured your height and weight and asked you about health. "Are you a marijuana user?" Eridan says after some questions.

You look around the office, decide you might as well tell him. He'd find out eventually with all the tests being done- plus, aren't the majority of people that he checks here for the same reason?

"Yep," You say begrudgingly. Doctor Ampora nods, writing the information in a legal pad he was using to take notes of everything else that you had answered.

"They say that actually has beneficial medical values." Doctor Ampora begins, pressing a stethoscope to your chest. "Breathe in and out slowly."

You scoff, breathing like he told you to. "I don't know about you, doc, but it sure makes me a better motherfucker."

"I believe that that's something w-we call bullshit."

You scowl. No one really understands what your weed means to you. They were little miracles in smoke-able blunts. You needed them to function, to be a better person. This Eridan guy was starting to piss you off. He was reminding you that you were sober, and that was never a good thing. Your insides twisted and coiled together like snakes. It was only day one. You were stronger than that. You wouldn't hurt anybody. Not today, anyway.

"What?" You ask, clawing at the gurney you were sitting on. "You don't believe in miracles?"

"No." He says flatly, taking off the stethoscope. "Miracles grant leeway to magic, and magic is the most preposterous thing. Magic doesn't exist, so neither do miracles."

This guy is a really, really big dick. He is the human embodiment of a penis.

"Well, on the bright side, your vitals seem okay." Doctor Ampora hums, patting you on the head. It was a lot of self-control that kept you from ripping his hand off. If you see him tomorrow, however, when your craving for a blunt would drive you insane, you will rip his arm right out of its socket.

"Geez, thanks doc," You reply, your voice sharp with distain.

"No problem, Mr. Makara." He smiles at you, and you want to pull every tooth out of his mouth one by one. He looks at the clock on the wall, a clock you couldn't read because you have no motherfucking idea how to read roman numerals, and then turns to you again.

"You have a seminar to go to, don't you?" Doctor Ampora asks. You nod and he nods in return, "I'll call your warden. You've been assigned Tavros?"

You nod again, and he presses a button to speak into an intercom. "Nurse Nitram, your patient is ready to be picked up."

You hear Tavros's nervous voice answer back, saying that he'd be there in a few minutes. You thank whatever entity you believe in, because you couldn't stand being in here with the motherfucking douche doctor for much longer. You continued to sit on the gurney awkwardly until Tavros arrived, and you couldn't have sprang out of that place any quicker. It was like Speedy Gonzales, the Road Runner, and Sonic the Hedgehog had a threesome that produced a lovechild of speed, and you were that lovechild as you rushed out of the door to Tavros.

"Bro, the motherfucker in there was a huge dickwad." You said once you were out of Doctor Ampora's earshot.

Tavros, surprisingly, didn't object to what you were saying. Instead, he chuckled. "You should have seen him when he was single. He was an even bigger, uh, douche."

You fill with joy at the fact Tavros is opening up to you more, and you ruffle that little motherfucker's Mohawk again. "Hey, little Tavbro all up and used foul language."

"Uh, oh." Tavros blushed, "Yeah I guess I did."

"This is a motherfucking-"

"Miracle." Tavros cuts off, smiling at you. You can't help but give him the biggest, tightest hug you could. You only let go when he tenses against you and informs you he can't breathe.

"Sorry about that Tavbro," You sigh, patting him on the back.

Tavros takes a few deep breaths before composing himself, "You, uh, have that seminar to go to."

You groan, "Do I really have to?"

The motherfucker nods his head with a sorry expression, "You're scheduled to. It's all a part of cleansing you to make your drug habit, uh, go away."

"I don't want it to go away." You mutter, biting your lip. "It makes me a better motherfucker."

"Well maybe being sober won't make you a better motherfucker, but it might just make you a better person." Tavros said quietly, looking away from you. His words echo in your mind for a little bit. Maybe Tavros understood something you didn't. Hell, he'd been working with patients just like you, he'd seen them get better. You just can't help but wonder-

"Yo, Tavbro." You say, and he looks back up at you. "If it's not too personal, can you tell me about the girl that all up and jumped?"

Tavros flinched for a moment. "Not now. Maybe later today, but you have to, uh, go to the seminar."

So, with that, Tavros guides you over to the room where they would hold the seminar. There are a few of those cheap metal chairs you were sitting in earlier set in a semi-circle around a podium. You sit on the very last chair, away from the people who were already there. Tavros takes the seat next to you, drumming his fingers on his lap. He looks off into the distance blankly, probably thinking.

"You must have to always listen to these motherfucking speeches." You say to him, drawing his attention away from whatever he was staring at.

He smiles half-heartedly. "Yeah, I've heard this speech about a thousand times."

"Do you get tired of it?" You already know the answer. Who wouldn't get tired of listening to the same boring speech over and over again?

"Yeah," Tavros sighs, "But I, uh, I listen anyway. As just a reminder, you know?"

"A reminder of what?" You scoff, "That there are people in this world that are really against miracles? People who have never experienced real euphoria?"

Tavros sighs. "I don't know if you've, uh, noticed, but I'm kinda, uh, against drugs."

You wish you could show this guy what he was missing. No motherfucker should go without a hit. You don't know how other people live their lives without it. You know you can't- you could never be sober forever once you had your first hit.

"If you haven't noticed, Tavbro," You reply, messing with his Mohawk. You really like how soft it feels. "I am very pro-drug. Very, very pro-drug."

Tavros says nothing and looks at the podium. A girl with short black hair and red sunglasses made her way to the podium, a shit-eating grin plastered onto her face.

"Hello? Is everyone here?" She speaks into the microphone, tapping it a few times. The room you were in, an auditorium, you guess, booms with the sound of static. The other people sitting in the circle groan, and the girl at the podium giggles. "Okay, I smell seven of you assholes here. That's how many were scheduled, right?"

Tavros buries his face in his hands, "Oh god. Your first speaker is Terezi."

"Why's that a bad thing? Motherfucker seems like a pretty chill girl." You shrug, watching as she fumbled around with the microphone some more.

"She's just a little-"

"Have you ever thought about what the government thinks about your drug consumption?" Terezi asks, and when no one answers, she goes on. "It's illegal. With a capital 'I'. They don't like it. I'm sure there are other things- other legal- things you can do with your time. Like feed pigeons or watch sappy romance movies."

She turns to face you and grins. "You. You smell like weed."

"Thanks?" You say, and a few members of the circle laugh.

"Do you live in California?" She asks, leaning over the podium in a flirty fashion.

"Uh," You look at Tavros, whose hands were still in his face, "No. I live here, in-"

"Exactly!" She exclaims, giggling slightly. "So what you are doing is against the law. Have you ever thought about doing something legal? Like, I don't know. Bake?"

"Oh, I bake." You smile. "I make the best weed cookies in the world."

Tavros tugs on the edge of your shirt, probably trying to hint to you to stop talking, but you just continue to smile at her.

"Eh, okay. I like you, guy-who-smells-like-weed, even if you are a felon." Terezi stands straight up and yawns, "But let's get serious. Even if you like being high in the sky with dragons and shit- I mean, who doesn't like dragons? I know I do-"

You whisper to Tavros, zoning out of Terezi's speech. "I still smell like weed?"

"Terezi has a heightened sense of smell since she's, uh, blind." Tavros says, looking up from his hands. "She's super eccentric with her speeches. I like her, and she helps a lot of the patients out, but she's just… Blunt."

You give a low chuckle. "Nice word choice there, Tavbro."

Tavros thought for a moment and looked up, looking a little guilty, "I didn't mean it that-"

You shake your head dismissively, patting your friend on the back. "Yeah, I know, Tavbro. It's all motherfucking right."

With that, he looks down at the ground and sighs. The both of you stayed silent for the rest of Terezi's speech, which somehow ended up comparing taking drugs to being a dragon who gets a cheap thrill from terrorizing harmless civilians, only to be shot by cops and taken down by the law. In a way, you agree with her.

You find yourself back in your dorm room, laying on your bed and staring at the ceiling. Tavros sat quietly with his legs crossed in the middle of the room, looking around and absent mindedly running his hands back and forth on the carpet.

"So, what about the girl who jumped?" You ask, looking over at Tavros. He runs his hands through his soft mullet, and sighs.

"Her name was Aradia, and she was a childhood friend of mine." Tavros quietly mutters, "We used to pretend we were fairies and fly around my grandma's backyard until we got tired and passed out on a picnic blanket."

He smiles at the memory, and you can't help but smile along with him.

"We were the best of friends. We knew each other inside and out… But she was always a little, uh…" Tavros pauses. "She was always a little bit more… Adventurous than me. I started working here while she went to school to get a degree in photography."

You nod, making sure that Tavros knows that you're still listening to him. You get up from the bed and move to sit next to Tavros.

"Aradia was really different after she got into drugs. She was a completely different person." Tavros continues, "She got into a lot of things I can't even remember which ones she did and which ones she didn't. I was really worried about her, so I enrolled her here."

You continue to listen, soaking in all of the information. So he was kind of like Karkat, enrolling his best friend in something he knew they wouldn't like for their own good.

"I took care of her for a good week before she snapped." Tavros's face grew sullen. "I walked into her room one day, and I couldn't find her. The window was open, and when I looked down…"

Tavros stopped, a few tears welling up in his eyes. "I saw her there, her body splayed out on the ground, blood on the concrete. A lady downstairs already called 911 for help, and all I could do was, uh. I couldn't do anything." His voice trailed off in a weak, mournful whimper.

You wrapped your arms around Tavros, pulling his body close to yours. You felt him start to sob into your chest, and you held him. You could feel his tears stain through your shirt, his hands gripping tightly onto the back of it. You kissed the top of his forehead, and his eyes- red and puffy from crying- looked up into yours. He swallowed deeply and let a few silent tears drop down his cheeks.

"Y-you know, your f-friend told me to take care of you."

You nod, so that's what Karkat whispered to him earlier this morning. You stroke his hair, still embracing him tightly. "How about we make a motherfucking deal," You whisper. "You can take care of me as long as I can take care of you."

Tavros couldn't be happier to oblige.

You have no fucking idea how it came down to this. You were completely fine yesterday, and you hadn't smoked the entire day. You were fine. You could function. Things were looking up.

Today was a completely different story. You woke up and the first thing your senses told you to do was get high. You could almost feel little surges of want coursing through your body, ripping you from the inside out. Fuck, you felt hallow. You might as well have been a motherfucking log with how empty you felt inside at that moment. This wasn't a want like how little kids wanted a stuffed animal from a claw machine; this wasn't like wanting to grow taller so that people wouldn't bully you about your height- no. This was the purest most undeniable form of want. This was the want that had you gripping onto something- anything- to keep yourself composed.

Needless to say, you weren't feeling very good.

You really didn't want Tavros to come in through the door, looking cheerful and happy, ready to help you get ready for the day. You didn't want him to come in, because you know you'd do bad things. You'd hurt him. You'd hurt him like you hurt your ex-girlfriend.

You didn't want him to, but he did.

He was pinned up against a wall before he even knew what hit him.

"Gamzee, what are you-"

"I'm really fucking tired, Tavbro." You mutter, hand clasping around his throat. Tavros looks absolutely terrified, and somewhere in your heart, something stirs. You suppose it's the high trapped inside of you telling you no. It's the high begging to be released, begging for you not to do this to Tavros, but…

You grab his leg, feeling how fragile it is in your hands. It would be so easy just to snap it in two, like it were a pencil or a twig.

"Gamzee- Gamzee please stop." Tavros begs, tears welling up in his eyes. You wish you could- oh, you wish you could stop. You don't want to hurt him, you really, really don't want to hurt him.

"If I could, I would." You say in a hushed tone, your voice low. "I would if I could."

It's only after you've done the deed, blood staining your hands and the carpet below Tavros, that you realize how easy his legs broke in two.

Okay, I promise this isn't over. The second part will be up soon, I swear. There'll be a better ending than that.

I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I hope you guys stick around for the second part