Crazy For You (Eridan/Gamzee)

You're pretty sure you have the worst luck in the history of the universe; both universes, at that. Even Vris couldn't have luck this fucking shitty.

When the human kids beat their session, they invited all of you to come and stay in their universe with them; you'll never be able to thank them enough for being awesome and not leaving the lot of you to die alone in a ring of dusty meteors in a decaying universe. It's been rough adjusting, on the behalf of both the trolls and the humans, since you're pretty sure that both races are equally confused by one another. All-in-all, though, you're doing pretty well for yourselves. The human kids' guardians have been helping you all get settled in (Mr. Egbert is your favorite, because he likes everyone indiscriminately), and things are going great. ...For the most part, anyway.

Every week you divide yourselves up into groups of two to run around together, so that no one is alone if shit gets weird or some human tries to start a fight because you're different. This 'buddy system' (as the humans call it) works pretty well for the most part, except for one small detail.

While you've managed to convince everyone that you're not going to go on any murderous rampages any time soon, Gamzee is still a dangerous psychopath if you don't all work to keep him drugged up. The guardians aren't exactly pleased about this state of affairs, but after hearing your stories, they do see the need for it; so they provide all of you with legal things that will keep him high and safe to be around. When it comes time to divide up into pairs, everyone draws straws to see who gets stuck with the crazy clown.

This week, as it has for the past two weeks as well, that responsibility falls on your shoulders. You don't know how anyone could possibly rig drawing straws, especially when you watch the event being set up with your own eyes, but you're sure that it's happening. No one could have this kind of shitty luck. Gamzee scares the everliving fuck out of you, even when you know he's safe, and you want to be as far away from him as it is possible to be, not stuck leading him around by the elbow like some sort of dazed, semi-catatonic puppet whenever you want to go somewhere. Seriously, Gamzee is the last person in the world you want to take to Starbucks with you.

You've got a case of Faygo laced with some stuff called DXM that Dave's Bro gave you, assuring you that one bottle of the stuff would keep him high as a kite for most of the day. You're not quite sure what a kite is, but it sounds like a positive simile, so you're not going to question Bro's credibility. If it works as well as he says, you should be able to give Gamzee a spiked Faygo with breakfast and another with dinner and not have to worry for the whole week.

But still.... what if it doesn't work? Fuck.

You are Eridan Ampora, and you are still freaked the fuck oh.

"Oh, glub."

Out of everything that you lost from your home planet, there is only one thing you miss the most.
You miss pies.
You miss their slimy texture that you could sleep and eat in and their ability to make everything amazing. That funky fresh fucking smell when you just got done baking them, taking a big bite, and just napping for the rest of the day. Everything was full of miracles when pies were around. Now, you can't even remember what miracles are. Like miracle whip. Miracle whip... what the fuck is that shit anyway? Fuck that noise. Fuck that white, creamy, puss version of pie, noise.

You feel like an insomniac now with the things they put in you to keep you down. Keep you from seeing colors and making them see those colors too. They got needles in you full of anti-miracles. But that's alright. They're looking out for you. Look at that. They're all your brothers and sisters and they've got a game of some sort going on. Now everyone seems to be looking at the royal fish troll and it makes a motherfucker sad to see that down right puppy kicked face he's got going, holding that tiny straw.

Sliding out of your chair from the kitchen table like a drunk lemur, your bare feet stride across the Egbert's carpeting and you slump over towards your purple blooded brother until you're swaying back and forth behind him.

"DoEs A mOtHeR fUcKeR nEeD a HuG?"

You jump nearly a foot in the air when you hear his voice behind you; with his bare feet, he's damn near silent, even when he's staggering around drunkenly. It's terrifying to think about him being sober again, when you know he can move like that. Your fins fold in on themselves and press back against your skull defensively as everyone else scatters to go off and do their own thing. Oh glub, you're stuck alone with him for another week. If you fuck up somehow, it's your ass that gets killed before everyone else even knows what's going on.

"N-naww, Gamz. Uh, tanks but no tanks. Say, uh, wwhy don't wwe head back to the apartments and wwatch a movvie or somefin? I'vve haddock about enough a this plaice, anywway. Or, uh, did you havve somefin else you wwanted to do today?"

"ShIt, DiDn'T mEaN t'ScArE yOu Or NoThInG."

Your head falls to the side and you shrug in a way that's more like raising your shoulders and rolling them backwards slowly as you drawl, "AiIgHt By Me, My FiShY mOtHeR fUcKeR. LeAd ThE wAy."

Everyone is so damn nervous around you these days. Why the fuck they gotta be like that? You don't even know why they act the way they do. They don't tell you what happened that's got them so scared shitless of your scrawny ass. Probably some beef about the color stains from that one time. You vaguely suspect that's the case, but you don't know why they're all so scared about seeing something so fucking pretty.

You take him gingerly by the elbow and your fingers tense at the idea of being in such close physical contact with someone who could kill you so easily. This never gets any easier, no matter how many times you get stuck holding that shitty little short straw, but somehow you manage to keep your cool and you lead him back towards home. It's a short walk, because you don't stop anywhere along the way like you would if you were alone; you just want to get home and get one of Strider's rigged Faygos in him so you can relax a little.

You let your finned brother lead you through the crowds of peach and coffee skinned people, smiling and waving at the smaller ones when they point at you. It'd be nice to know why they're pointing at you, but you're not sure if you should care. You decide that you don't and after traveling a bit longer, the one with the thunder purple hair comes to a halt in a hallway of doors. Suddenly, you slump against him like a teetering bible in a book shelf, a bit awkward for your height difference as your head lands on the side of his.

As you take a deep breath of his hair, you note that it smells like something familiar. Like something close to home. Like the ocean. Fuck, do you miss that big ass pool of blue. Not as much as pies of course, but because of what it symbolized. Your lusus. Your mother fucking, deceased, sea goat of a lusus.

Whatever it is they have in you, it seems to wear you down, but you're cool with that because you wear it down too. You wear each other out, you and whatever the fuck it is that's making your legs resemble jello. Exercise seems to get it out of you the fastest and your friends always insist that you avoid doing anything in the last hour before they put some more of it in your system. Aw fuck, you can even feel it now because you feel like you can think. Not 'think more clearly' but actually THINK for fucking once and it's got this wicked happy grin on your face that spreads against the texture of the other troll's hair and you whisper some shit like, "ArE wE tHeRe YeT?" before wrapping an arm around his shoulder, taking another whiff of his reminiscent hair.

You tense up again at the feel of his face in your hair, which would actually be really nice if it were someone that didn't make you fear for your life every time they touched you. You force yourself to take a deep breath and try to relax, knowing that it isn't fair to Gamzee that you treat him like he isn't a person over something that he has no control over. "Yeah, Gamz. Wwe're there."

The door swings open and you retrieve your keys from it, helping the indigo blooded troll into the apartment since his legs seem to be out of order at the moment. When he's situated on the couch, you go over to the case of Faygo that the Striders provided you with and look it over. There's a little of every flavor in there.

"Gamz, d'you wwant a red, blue, purple, orange, or browwn Faygo?"

Your head tilts back against the couch and you stare distantly at the ceiling as you answer, "GrEeN." Even though that was not an option from the color choice Eridan had given you and you know it's not. It's sort of your own way of messing with him yet sort of making you yearn for your green pies and you heave a mournful sigh. "NaH, i'M jUsT fUcKiNg ArOuNd WiTh A mOtHeR fUcKeR. I'lL hAvE a BlUe OnE."

Your neck snaps back to attention as you look over at the aquatic troll hunched over by all of the bottles of sugary soda when you come up with the most genius idea in the world, "No, No WaIt- AlL oF tHeM. PoUr A bIt Of EaCh In A BoWl. I'lL dRiNk ThAt."