For you, I'd do anything {GamTav}

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Nobody POV

Tavros stares blankly at his food. He was still tired, and he couldn't exactly register what it was. He poked and prodded at the partially liquid mash potato with a plastic fork, his brain basically flatlining. Gamzee frowned at him, grabbing a spoon and scooping up a small portion of pumpkin soup.

"Say ah," He cooed like he would to a child. Tavros looked at him with a blank look in his eyes. After a second he finally registered he command, opening his mouth as Gamzee shoves the spoon in.

"Just because I'm in recovery doesn't mean I'm incapable of eating," Tavros replies, already beginning to doze off again. "I'm just a little... tired that's all..." Tavros took the spoon off of Gamzee and attempted to feed himself, scoping some of the soup onto the spoon and lifting it too his mouth, completely missing and hitting his lower lip instead. The orange soup dribbled down his chin as Tavros stares off into space.

"Ow," he muttered, his eyes drooping shut. Tavros slumped forward, knocking some of the utensils off the tray.

"Oh shit-" Gamzee swore, dashing to catch Tavros before he fell into his food.

"Dammit Tavbro..." Gamzee muttered, staring at Tavros' sleeping face.
'He looks peaceful,' he thought to himself. 'I wish he would look that peaceful around me...' Gamzee frowned. 'God I'm so selfish...'

"I'm sorry this shit had to happen to you..." Gamzee muttered, setting him down on the bed carefully, slowly moving the food tray to the bin and scraping everything inside of it.

"I'll see ya later, Tav," Gamzee murmured, kissing him on the forehead before walking out of the room.

————
Tavros- flashback
————

Gamzee was gone again. He didn't say anything to you when he left. You aren't surprised.

You don't know what time it is, or how long you've been drinking for, or what bottle you are drinking, all you know is that Gamzee is missing and you are very drunk.

Everything you see is doubled, it's almost like wearing the glasses of a person who is very blind when you do not need any. Or like watching a YouTube video that's buffering at auto. You giggle at the thought, but then remember Gamzee and continue to sob.

"F-foukin hell... yoo reeeeaaally can't do aaaanyyyythiiiing right can you!" You slurred in a bad Vriska impression. "Huhrrr it's no wondeeeerr your a drooop oouuuut, oooor a sociallyyy anxious friendless loooseerr, or a fa-ailure...." you grab the bottle and down some more. "I'm such a fucking failure!"

You slam your hands on the bench of Gamzee's deserted apartment. Deserted except for you. You stand up abruptly, pushing the chair back with so much force that it topples over with a loud clang. Ignoring the noise, you stumble over the to the front door and shove it open, clambering down the hallways and out of the building.

Out on the streets in your drunken state, you begin screaming.

"IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE YOU BASTARD? YOU WANT TO SEE ME IN PAIN?" You roar, your throat scratchy and painful with the tangy and metallic taste of blood and bile rising in the back of your throat. "GOD DAMMIT, GOD DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU TO HELL!"

You stumble across the sidewalk, unable to see anything properly as your feet threaten to give out, your eyes partially shut and your prosthetic leg clicking and rattling with each step forward.

You walk towards a pedestrian crossing, stumbling across and shouting unintelligible slurs into the crisp night sky. You partially register some sort of loud noise, but disregard it due to your drunken state.

Before you had time to react, a powerful force collided with the side of your body, hitting your torso, leg and part of your head. The impact sends you barreling through the air at least two meters before you slam against the concrete road, sliding across like a rag doll being thrown against the wall. You couldn't move, your chest was tight and you're coughing up copious amounts of blood and stomach acid.

From the tight, constricted and stabbing pain you feel in you chest you assume at least half of your delicate ribs are broken, your arm feeling as if multiple razor sharp needles are injected searing hot lava into your feeble muscles. Through the dark spots forming in your vision you make out a trail of skin and blood, the headlights of a car with dots of crimson shadowing the blinding light and scattered gears, wires and metal fragments that could only be described as what was once your prosthetic leg, your other one snapped backwards in a disgusting way. You swear there was a splinter of bone sticking out of the torn skin.

You were dazed and confused, lost and in pain.

And god, the agony. You couldn't begin to describe it. It would be impossible, it was worse than breaking all your bones, you felt as though the skin was torn off your muscles like it was nothing more than old Velcro, your muscles aches with an indescribable seeding pain and your head thumped with a sharp pain worse than that of a migraine and a hangover combined. It was like being shot in the head without the sweet, comforting release of death shortly after.

Your body spasmed as blood dribbled out from multiple scratches and gashes that littered your body, the disgusting sound of you gasping out for breaths in between sharp cries and violent coughing fits ringing throughout the once comforting night turned lethal. People screamed and called for help, screams you could not hear. You were so tired.

You could just rest your eyes here... you wouldn't have to worry...

You think... you think that you're going to go to sleep...