
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/742582.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      Other, Multi
  Fandom:
      Homestuck, MS_Paint_Adventures
  Relationship:
      Gamzee_Makara♠Gamzee_Makara, Gamzee_Makara♦Karkat_Vantas, Gamzee_Makara/
      Karkat_Vantas, Gamzee_Makara♠Gmazee_Makara♠Gamzee_Makara, Gamzee
      Makara♦John_Egbert, Gamzee_Makara♥John_Egbert, John_Egbert/Gamzee_Makara,
      John_Egbert♥Karkat_Vantas, John_Egbert♦Gamzee_Makara♦Karkat_Vantas,
      Gamzee_Makara♥Karkat_Vantas, John_Egbert♣Gamzee_Makara♣Gamzee_Makara
  Character:
      Gamzee_Makara, Karkat_Vantas, John_Egbert
  Additional Tags:
      Polyamory, Polyamory_Negotiations, So_many_WTF_moments, But_this_idea, it
      wouldnt_shut_up, I'm_sorry_but_not_enough, Gamzee_is_terrified_and_Karkat
      is_too, But_John_knows_things, Because_he_is_a_nosy_shit, and_Googles_and
      Internets_everything, This_is_also_why_I_should_not_go_to_Conventions,
      They_give_me_random_ideas_when_I_should_be_finishing_other_stories, This
      is_not_what_I_planned, Also_many_Makaras_in_a_Plot_Device_way, plot
      device, Because_I_can, and_a_normal_raging_KK_that_is_FURIOUS, WHAT_THE
      BULGEMUCHING_HELL_YOU_CRAZY_CLOWN, JOHN_STOP_ENCOURAGING_YOUR_STUPIDITY,
      BAMF_John, BAMF_Karkat, Confused_Gamzee, Sad_Gamzee, Murderous_Gamzee,
      Made_E_because_of_my_brain_and_its_disfunctional_and_goes_off_into_dark
      tunnels_alone, BTW_angst_and_sad_feels, Angst_and_Feels, Fluff, Fluff_and
      Angst, Angst, grab_some_tissues, I_got_teary_myself, PTSD, I_HAVE_ALL
      THESE_WARNINGS!, Cuddles, Stress, Mental_Disorders, Personality_Issues,
      Multiples, Plurals, now_not_so_much, LOTS_OF_ISSUES_OKAY?
  Series:
      Part 2 of Idea_Compilations
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-31 Updated: 2014-03-24 Chapters: 5/? Words: 4054
****** 1 is Stable, 2 is Crowed, and 3 is Overflowing ******
by Momma
Summary
     There is this machine. No one has used it, no one seems to want to,
     and what it does is VASTLY unclear, really. Then add in a sad,
     insecure, murderous Clown trying to otherwise occupy himself, and
     that's what happens.
     Karkat is terrified and confused, but John is sad (really, really
     sad) because this means a lot of things (most of them "Not Very Good"
     and one or two Very, Very Bad). It helps clear up the flip-flopping
     for him, anyway.
      
      
     OR: Where in a button is pushed and John has to help KK and GZ figure
     out everything again and maybe add a few quadrants, wether they want
     to or not. It is sad and not for the weak of heart feels.
Notes
     Cons are the bane of my write block, but only tend to crop up more
     stories, not continue (unless it's something absolutely gorgeous,
     then yes, it inspires). All the Homestuckians would be proud to know
     they made this possible.
***** Dee Dee, don't push the button! *****
This was his first day of awareness in a long while. Usually Confused - but
happy enough, he supposed - or Murderous emotions held the reigns. But this,
the despair, the longing, the self-horror...It generally took a backseat. Drugs
or the withdrawal of them. Now, cleaned of the sopor if only for a while, he
felt desperation clawing at him in a distant, echoing way with depression
grabbing hold of his think sponge and vascular pump and squeezing into a tight
fist. 
Listless. Useless. Sick and sickening. Too much bone, not enough meat. Foolish
and stupid and fanatical...
Tired. Heart-sick. Depressed. 
So he looked to occupy his mind, forcing himself beyond the choking swath of
emotions and into action. It was a large victory to him when right now he only
wanted to curl up tight, a bag of nails and glass and more fragile than he
should be with only a thin veil of woven strands keeping it all inside. A
strange, tired victory. 
And he trudged, in shadow and fear. He trudged so that he wouldn't be so
menacing, so sharp and angled. He traveled from the light because he did not
deserve the light the others were reveling in. He tried and tried and tried and
nothing worked as they flinched and scuttled away and stared fixedly,
dangerously. So he feared. Himself, the others, the light. He feared in a
quiet, sickening, sad way that twisted his insides into knots and choked the
air from his air sacks and made bile coat his throat. That was how he ended up
in some unused lab forgotten and dusty and machines that ran, but no one would
touch for fear of some weird and horrifying retaliation. He was beyond that
fear, sitting at the lip of a deep well that was reaching up ghoulishly to grab
his ankles and drag him down, drowning him in a sadistic glee of feelings he
couldn't sort out on his own. 
That...
That was real fear. 
Sometime later, he would regret his own selfishness. Right now, however, he was
leaning over a machine without a monitor, without a keyboard or tubes or
anything, just a tablet he was standing on, one that was bare of the swirling
designs and images, blank white and boring. He stood there and looked at the
one big red button that was the color of his Moirail's blood, so red it hurt to
look at as he relived every moment he had all but destroyed their sacred bond.
A button that he pushed in a fit of temper at himself, smashing it like he
could remove and heal all of the wounds that his precious, most precious friend
and heart and red, red, red, pale red love. So pale, he thought as he was
forced to his knees. 
Pain traveled along his feet, through his legs and spine, gouging into his arms
and neck and head, ripping in long strips blood and flesh and bone. He might
have screamed but he felt too much to know if he was, blood thundering, sight
blistering, breath gone and a tear that went from tip to end, top to bottom,
pulling and pulling and pulling him apart. 
He wondered if there was going to be indigo blood splattered out in a waste of
color as his last thought. 
***** Sentient Breathing *****
Chapter Summary
     Wherein life is a bitch about things and so is Karkat, air molecules
     are ALIVE, and holy shit, what the fuck is even going on?!
 
Karkat was up to here - TALLER THAN YOUR NOOK STAINED FACE, YOU BULGEMUNCHING
CEPHALOPOD - with aggrivation and worry and pure unadultured fury with his
Moirail. A Moirail that just could not help himself. Really, literally, he
could not. This is a fact, not a weak observation of incorrect proportions. Due
to his lusus being conspicuously abscent most of his younger sweeps, Karkat
counted himself lucky that his Moirail was able to speak Alternian with only a
slightly accented slur. If he wasn't so pale for his best friend and vascular
pump brother, he would be as red as his mutant blood for the adorable klutz. 
But back to his issue! 
He was looking for the clown, scouring every room and raising hell with
everyone he met. Only John (and Equius, but let's face it, that guy is a
stalker where Gamzee is concerned) was able to pin point a direction, and then
volunteered cheerfully to lead the way of the disturbed air currents that were
more than thrilled to help the Heir of Breath (Karkat was thinking very hard
about not thinking about living air molecules and their apparently sentient
nature, nope). Glad for the assistence if not the chatter about pranks, ideas,
and not so thrilling past adventures, they loped off into the distance,
hurrying further and further into the disused portion of the labs. The thick
dust swirled around them without touching, something Karkat was grateful for,
especially when he knew that his ass would be wheezing and hacking up air sacks
if not for Egbert. 
Then they rounded the corner and the short mutant felt his cardio vascular pump
crash into his ribs like a freighter going down hill. John was silent. Creepily
so considering. Then: 
"Damn, I thought that was disabled. It was supposed to be disabled." 
Karkat turned to look at the doofus, his eyes harder than the mutant had ever
seen and his smiling mouth distinctly not smiling, frowning in fact. Angry and
very unhappy. The troll cleared his airways noisily, eyes wide as he sought to
catch all the little ticks the human teen had. "Egbert?" 
Geez, was that his voice, all small and freaked out and scared? His human
companion was freely unhappy about this situation and he could say little about
it since he was vastly over-whelmed and under prepared and he was a Moirail and
while signed on to this shit, he was not signed on for this shit, really he
wasn't. 
"It didn't work on me, oddly enough, but..." he sighed, settling on the ground
to walk the last few feet, standing at the edge of the platform and no further.
"I read the manual, once. Got really very bored, because yeah, nothing else to
do." He flipantly settled down on the floor, staring at their conundrum. "But
now? A lot of what makes Gamzee tick is suddenly very visibly apparent." 
Karkat knelt slowly, settled beside the human supplying him with answers
freely. He was afraid to ask, hands shaking before he fisted them in the hem of
his over large shirt. "...And?" 
He sighed, long and weary and unplesant becuase this was John Egbert, and he
never ever was unhappy, not really except when his lusus was murdered (a long
time ago, too long to feel painful to remember), but... "This machine was
designed to 'separate' traits of a severely conflicted person. It didn't happen
to me, I don't know why, but..." He pushed a hand through his hair. "I thought
Gamzee was weird - shut up, seriously, hear me out - and conflicted in
seriously bad ways. I just didn't know he had split off. I mean, I was curious
about it, heard of it on some late night doctorial thing, and then really got
curious and looked it up at the time. I didn't realize he was fractured." 
Karkat was quickly loosing his cool with John avoiding the issue by going
around and around in circles. "John!"
"Yeah...Gamzee has MPD or, well, Dissociative Identity Disorder. Gamzee is a
Plural, only literally now." 
Karkat felt something in him snap. In some heart rending way, he was breaking
without the seams being visible. John pulled him in close, resting his head on
top between short nubby horns. 
"We'll fix this. Some how." 
The troll had a feeling there would be no fixing this one. 
***** Mirror, Mirror, Mirror on the wall, the floor, the ceiling *****
Chapter Summary
     Moving forward but not really.
     (Also, sorry for the long wait. College has stolen all of my soul...)
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It took some maneuvering, John moving them silently through the halls, high
against the ceiling. Nothing gave way their trespassing, not even scent as the
air wrapped around them. Karkat shivered at the implications, feeling for the
first time in awe of John because he had power. The kind that, had any of their
own kind had, the troll was certain that most of troll-kind would be dead and
gone by now. Suffocated. Smothered. 
A shiver traveled all the way down his spine. He had enough issuses right now.
There were threeof them right here in his lap.
"Going down," John intoned softly, settling them all on his enormous bed.
Karkat had argued this but had to concede that a recuperacoon was not ideal.
The soft feather down coverlet ("It's for winter, Karkitty. Humans get cold
easy.") was soon wrapped around his shoulders, his human companion sitting down
with four large fuzzy blankets that were soft to look at, possibly softer to
touch, and wrapped them around their - his - problem(s) as well, leaving an
extra. Tugging his hood off, John sighed as he used the wind to wrap the black
(Karkat was very much not interested in the fact that all the covers were
either blue or black, no he was not) fuzzy blanket around his body and
shoulders. They both looked at their problem, tired resignation making itself
known by both awake parties. The human teen released a hand to gesture.
"This?"
The troll huddled deeper in the deep blue-black coverlet. "What happened?"
It was soft, more an exhale than a whisper. There was a head bob, glasses
slipping down. John wrinkled his nose and pushed his glasses back up. "This?
This, in humans, is a mental disorder that makes parts of our mind bend and
fracture and a bunch of bad things. The cause? A lot of stuff: Emotional,
physical, mental, spiritual issues associated with deep trauma... It's kind of
why I was so surprised I was not affected. I guess I just... I just delt with
the problems as they came.  I didn't ignore them or shove them down or
anything, I just felt and raged and released." He floated over to snuggle
against Karkat, only getting a mild grumble that was more a growl that soon
turned to a purr. "It can be severe to some people," he laid his head on the
bony shoulder, closing his eyes. "It can literally unmake someone as you know
them. It's like a stranger in a familiar suit, wearing the skin of your best
friend or a loved one."
Karkat took a shaky breath, leaning into the only one available who knew what
was going on (he was not going to ask Rose, fuck no). Another breath, choked
and stuttering and oh... fucking NO, his Moirail, his Pale Diamond, was broke
and broken and breaking his blood pusher at the quiet implications being spoken
in a soft, determined, sad voice.

"What do we do?"
"We help Gamzee. We help him pick himself up and put all the pieces in their
places." John lifted an arm out to hug Karkat to his side. "And, most
importantly, we don't give up because, if we do, how can we expect him to keep
trying?"
Soft sobs filtered through coverlet as John pulled the troll tighter, feel an
intense worry and horror fill the pit of his stomach. How were they going to
help not one but three Gamzees?
Chapter End Notes
     I'm terrible for leaving it so short, but this was the PERFECT PLACE
     to leave it for now.
     (I enjoy having random ideas thrown at me, though. It helps me think.
     I have no idea why.)
***** Eeny, Meany, Minee - Whoa *****
Chapter Summary
     Dealing with it
The first one awake was apparently the problem one, eyes with crimson scelera
and vividly violet-ish irises. Karkat said indigo. (It still looks purple to
John.) But anyway, Karkat was up and on him the moment he bared his fangs,
shoosh-papping him with a no nonsense air that made the murderous rage calm but
not leave. This would be the vicious, dark, blood hungry side of the troll,
only...
John knew trolls were dangerous, but having a creature inside that would thirst
for blood and death and gore - that was not something he got because, unlike
Rose or Dave or Jade, he didn't feel the need for space, for life like they
did. Oh, he liked living, had fought to live, but he had not really got it,
that urge to kill. Maybe it was because he just didn't let himself get that
angry, let the little things go, and dealt with the big ones when he was forced
to. Upset, yeah, and down right annoyed, but he just...he didn't get out and
out angry. 
The next one up was a shivering, weeping, depressed wreck, huddled in on
himself and sporting a giant set of bruises around his neck, as if something or
someone had choked him. John cooed as he floated over, wrapping his long arms
around the sniffling mess and patting his face dry with the edge of the
blanket. The waxy paint came with it, showing more bruising around his mouth
and eye, John silently feeling that just moments ago mental comparison leave
him feeling hypocritical as actual rage well up. Maybe it wasn't so much that
he couldn't get angry as it was he could net find it in himself to get angry on
his own behalf. Whatever the situation, he curled around this Gamzee, long
gangly limbs in his lap, face against his neck and shoulder, soft shudders
wracking a thin and delicate frame that wasn't on the other two. What a poor
creature, sad and needy and lonely. 
The last came to with a whimsical smile, eyes unfocused and body a pliant
sprawl across the surface. Murderous Gamzee looked sharply at the last one,
Karkat pulling his face back to his own, knocking their foreheads together and
making M. Gamzee go cross-eyed. "No. Not today. Too much hoofbeast shit has
gone down. I am too tired and too drained to deal with it. No." 
John sighed, nodding. "He's right," he murmured, petting his Gamzee, silently
dubbing him Sad Gamzee. "We'll explain tomorrow, but right now I just want some
food and then some sleep." 
Karkat hmmed in agreement, draping himself over M. Gamzee to keep him too busy
with the body in his lap to start going after people. Sighing again, the lone
human pulled up the wind, fetching pen and paper, writing with his off hand a
little comically but well enough, begging for a few sandwiches to be made and
don't worry about sending them, he'll know when their done, okay? Rolling it up
in a draft, it zoomed from the room, making a bee-line for a troll, any troll,
or a human. Karkat blinked at him, head on M. Gamzee's shoulder as he raised a
brow. John grinned a little, petting his Gamzee and poking the last one with
his foot, the only one without any obvious issues outside of looking like he's
been drugged to the gills, and shrugging lightly. 
"Don't tell me you wouldn't make a sandwich only to see how bad I would fail. I
know you," he teased, settling into the bedding, S. Gamzee calming down now. A
cautious eye peered around, landing on M. Gamzee with a snarl. John was not
prepared, nor was Karkat as the two lunged at each other. The lazily sprawling
Gamzee was soon joining them in the brawl, eyes not red but orange around the
violet of his eyes. Karkat yelped, scrambling away from the flying limbs to
John, the human teen lifting the two into the air and away from the fight.
There wasn't any blood, he noticed, but there were lots of scratching, pulling,
snarling. Karkat squeaked, covering his eyes with his hands, mumbling into them
as it progressed, clothes taking a lot of damage and...and was that...
John spun around, tugging Karkat in and shaking him, eyes wide. "Are they doing
what I think they are?" 
Karkat moaned. "Yeeeeee-heeeeeees," he whimpered. "My moirail in is Pitch with
himself! Twice!" 
John smacked his forehead, blushing and then cringing when the sounds below
changed cadence and he felt something in his stomach twist into a hot ball of
unmentionable, not going there, ignored now and forever tension. "I am never
sleeping on that bed again." 
***** Your Writing is Terrible *****
Chapter Summary
     Just a bridging chapter to get around the shenanigans happening...
     A bit fluffy which, apparently, some of this is. Where is my
     angst...?
      
     ((*goes to look for it* *finds it* *starts throwing it at the
     chapter* I WANT SAD FEELS, PEOPLE...))
Chapter Notes
     Guys, seriously, I need a BETA like you wouldn't believe. I need
     someone who can help me with several different series and fandoms and
     motivate me so I can get my ideas on paper. It's not that I don't
     have the idea, I just cannot seem to gather them properly to put ON
     paper in a cohesive line of thought. Which, apparently, is a thing
     that should be done to understand my brain.
     I'm not asking anyone to take ALL of this on, that would be asking
     way too much unless you can entirely follow the convoluted Escher
     Stair Room paths of my brain. Which, yeah, I cannot even do that some
     times. But, guys, I need some help. Please. I WILL add more later, I
     haven't remembered this right off the top of my head. Also,
     crossovers. ((but mainly HS right now))
      
     MAIN FANDOMS:
     Inu Yasha, Spirited Away, HOMESTUCK, NARUTO, Kim Possible, American
     Dragon: Jake Long, Final Fantasy VII (and all the interations there
     of), The AVENGERS, Skyfall: 007/James Bond, Iron Man, X-MEN, RIDDICK
     compilation, Harry Potter, Biker Mice From Mars, Labyrinth....Et
     Cetera, Et Cetera.
Hello, John. Here are the sandwiches on a platter to keep you from filling the
halls with fillings. Also, to note: "their" denotes ownership, "there" is a
place, and "they're" is "they are" in contraction. Please use proper English
Grammar or I will be forced to hunt you down.
                                  Sincerely,
                                     Rose
 
John smiled as he read, the plate of sandwiches in his other hand while he
ruffled Karkat's hair causing the troll to chirrup like a giant cricket. The
letter fluttered in front of his face with the help of his Wind, kind of like
having an infinite amount of hands for simple tasks. It was nice. The elbow
digging into his side and limply flailing arm trying sluggishly to dislodge his
hand buried in the soft satin fluff of hair was a nice comical touch to his
overall letter reading experience.
Setting the plate to the side, he grabbed one for himself, scratching
soothingly along the base of one horn. "Hey, Karkat, ya hungry?"
There was a hum, possibly in agreement, but the troll didn't move from his
sprawl across John, John's lap, and along the ground of the large set of double
doors they were planted in front of. Behind said door were three trolls, an
impenetrable sound barrier, and a ten ton pail-full of denial by both boys on
just what exactly was happening, nope. Not that John had that problem anymore,
really. Rose was the best shrink.
Seriously, she had looked at John like he was nuts and then proceeded to have
one of the longest sit-downs with him. Possibly in the Land of Ever. John was
like that cracker, last one left in the plastic wrapper and then left for who
knows how long (years) with little cracks and fractures, bit of crumbs. The
moment he is lifted from the too close, too tight wrapper, he crumbled into
salty dust and was now trying to pull himself into some semblance of self. Of
course, Jade compared him to a human bendy straw - a long line of female
preference but an appreciation of the male side of the bend. Troll bendy straws
were a new experience in and of themselves. Talk about overly complicated and
convoluted...
But this was a topic he wasn't going to touch. It was way too much like incest
for his little human brain to deal with easily. MOVING ON!
"You're from a whooole 'nother world~, A different dimension~, You ooopen my e-
"
"No, John. No, that is not allowed, stop that blasphemy, it is disgusting and
terrible and you should stop right now, shush," was the scratchy, hoarse
sounding whisper from Karkat, the troll covering the human teen's mouth with
his hand, a red eye peeking blearily through his hair up at John. The human boy
smiled at the troll, rolling his eyes. He knew, really. His voice was made for
Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin songs, not hip-hop, pop, or rap. Didn't mean he
didn't like the music though.
And ET from Katy Perry had a special place in their little purgatory. It was a
good song, nice vocals, but really weird from their new stand point.  That and
Dave abused nice things. That is why they couldn't have nice things to begin
with. Because Dave was a douchecanoe. John chuckled softly to himself, Karkat
giving him a stink eye before letting go to flop back down, reaching for a
sandwich. John went back to petting the troll, running fingers through his hair
and around the base of his horns.
It was as they were discussing the advantages of tuna with or without pickles
that the door opened in one long creak of foreboding, one bleary eyed Gamzee
with half shredded pants held to slim hips standing hunched in on himself. The
sclera were pale yellow, the skin was bruised and bloody around the chest and
stomach, and a ring of old fading bruises were about his neck like a deadly
necklace of pain and hate. Sad Gamzee. In fact, he was the one John could count
the ribs on and something in his stomach flipped and knotted like an old ball
of yarn tossed around. He was so thin, his bones were nearly outlined with his
skin. Karkat whimpered a chirp, burying his face in John's stomach, grabbing so
tight it hurt.
"Come 'ere," whispered John, sure his voice only reached this Gamzee because
the Wind was one to make sure his words were heard. He held out the arm on the
mostly free side, large blue eyes imploring the pathetic creature miserably
shuffling his feet. A soft, barely there sigh was his answer as the troll
silently padded over, collapsing beside the human with a tiny choked sob. With
a face all but devoid of paint, the bruising on his cheeks and mouth were more
apparent, old scars standing out like a drunken spider's forgotten web. The boy
pulled him in, pressing the cool face into his shoulder and neck, the sobs
becoming body-jerking, heart rending sounds, his shirt sleeve sopping wet
within seconds, long spidery fingers gripping the fabric ends and leaving
holes.
Karkat dared not move, curling more into John, his current and possibly only
anchor in this hot mess they were all in. The human boy just pulled them both
in a bit more, cooing in Gamzee's hair as he petted him with fingers deep in
his nest of hair. Then there was another Gamzee, sclera still red, but not
nearly as intense. John panicked, eyes shooting wide as he tapped harshly on
Karkat's shoulder.
"Karkat, Karkat, your murderous Moirail Bro-pal just wandered in, get the fuck
up, please, because I might die if you don't," he whispered harshly, holding
his Gamzee - and this one was going to be his fuck damn it - to keep him still
and hopefully calm at his side. The smaller bundle of gray flipped up so fast,
he almost smacked John with a horn to the chin. Before the mouthy bastard could
rise, there was a very full lap of Gamzee, snuffling sounds coming from this
crazed version, but the teen knew for a fact that he was not crying. Possibly
able to smell? TZ would see with Smell-O-Vision, who said Gamzee wouldn't be
able to parse scents too? 
So when this Gamzee growled, John stared at him hard, eyes narrowed as he held
S. Gamzee. Pulling his bravado up, he laid his hand on Karkat's shoulder and
touched his skin in a very non-platonic caress all the way up his throat to cup
his chin. M. Gamzee made a sound of confused aggression.
Karkat made his own sound of surprise, looking over his shoulder at John, one
eye always on his psycho clown. "John?"
The human just smiled - strained as it was - tapping Karkat's nose even as he
watched and stared down the murdering highblood. "Just establishing boundaries,
Karkat. I'm not trying to take his Moirail away and he isn't going to take you
away from me."
The pale fluttering blush on the smaller troll's cheeks was absolutely adorable
as he cleared his throat. "Uh..."
The human smiled as M. Gamzee looked away, breaking the challenge and allowing
John to relax some. Leaning his chin on Karkat's shoulder, the teen chuckled.
"Don't think too hard, you might explode." He gently pressed fingers through S.
Gamzee's hair, scratching gently along the scalp and horn base. "I am going to
have to take this Gamzee to my room, though. Can't have him and M-zee trying to
rip out each others' throat when we're not looking."
The silence accompanying that statement was thick and strained, Karkat very
much not happyabout the whole thing. He did concede to the logic, grunting at
the human. "Fine, you bulge blister sack of pustules. Go be a hero and keep
your pitiful pale on with that pathetic flesh bag. I think I got this covered."
Without another word, John drifted from the floor, weightless and euphoric as
he toddled off with the nearly emaciated form of the former whole Gamzee.
Karkat sighed as he looked at his Big Problem. "You," he started, poking this
Gamzee on the shoulder, "are a mess. And quite possibly deranged beyond my
help, but I'll be fucked upside-down on a chair of broken glass before I give
up that easily."
Still, this begged the question: Who would be willing or stupid enough to care
for a third Gamzee?
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