Gamzee Makara hadn't been seen around the colony very often since his arrival on Earth. He tended to only come out of his dwelling around dinner time and a few other social gatherings, or if he needed something from someone else.
It was a little sad, really. During said social gatherings, he was notably less mirthful than before. He calmly picked at his food (and pies), eating it slowly and almost deliberately. The oblivious stare seemed off somehow, as if something deeply disturbed him.
Something did.
He had killed Equius, grievously harmed Nepeta, and "used the others as a motherfucking crayon box", as he had called it back in the Veil, shortly before leaving.
The pies kept that Gamzee (or was it "those Gamzees"?) in check and he wasn't exactly likely to do it again any time soon, but it did deeply disturb him.
Gamzee Makara was motherfucking depressed.
Equius and Nepeta stood just outside Gamzee's hive, carefully considering the situation.
"Nepeta, it has been almost three sweeps now", Equius stated firmly, preferring the old time measurements for obvious reasons. "The highblood worries me. He has skipped the shared meal time for two days now."
"Yeah, but what can we do about it?"
"I was told, as I remember it, that you did an admirable job calming Makara down while I was away."
"He was crying then, though. I don't think he's-"
A rather sad-sounding honk from inside the hive interrupted Nepeta before she could finish stating the opposite.
"...okay, so you think I should go visit and... talk about it with him?"
"On the horn pile, should the need arise."
Nepeta shrugged, adjusted her hat and walked over to Gamzee's hive, exchanging thumbs up gestures with Equius as he went the other way.
"Gamzee, can I come in?"
"...Sure, chica. Mo'fuggin' door's open."
Gamzee, much to Nepeta's surprise, wasn't wearing his facepaint. Rather, all he had left was the vague remains of an old application. Since he had indeed skipped dinner for the last two days, noone had seen him at all until then. There was only a single tin in the middle of the room, a single slice of sopor pie left in it. For a moment, Nepeta regretted coming in -- what if Gamzee hadn't eaten enough pie and had turned evil again? On the other hand, he had never slurred his constant "motherfucking" that badly. When Gamzee opened his eyes, Nepeta's fear was laid to rest. He wasn't looking murderous or baked, but rather just incredibly sad.
"You're... afraid, aren't you Gamzee?" Nepeta guessed as she carefully approached the sad clown. "Afraid of going bad again?"
Gamzee slowly nodded.
"It's all just one big motherfucking conflict in my head, chica."
"Why's that?"
"Well, you know that those sopor pies are bad for a motherfucker, right?"
"Yeah, it's one of the first things we learn; don't eat the slime."
"And yet I've done exactly that all my motherfucking life."
"Turns out it was actually a good thing, too."
"Motherfuck yeah. Those two murderous fucks in my head..."
"So... you only had this one pie for the last two days?" Nepeta carefully asked.
"Just about, chica. I had this idea that maybe if I figured out a... lower limit, is that the word?"
Nepeta nodded.
"If I figured out the lower limit, my supply would last longer and maybe I'd actually be a productive motherfucker for a chance, right? Be a miracle right there."
"But Gamzee", Nepeta argued, "you were a big help before, remember? You've helped us all in a lot of ways! But staying cooped up in here by yourself isn't purrductive, and if you make a mistake and overshoot this so-called limit, you'll just go bad again and be everything but!"
Nepeta took the tin. "Gamzee, please just stop taking this risk. Finish the pie, be happy, and continue your life. We can worry about the supply later; maybe there's something here on Earth that could replace it? There's a lot of stuff out there you don't know yet, so who knows?"
Gamzee forced himself to smile and sauntered over to the hornpile. He let himself fall onto it, almost literally embracing the resultant cacophony if he weren't facing the wrong way.
"Maybe you're right, chica. Maybe this stupid motherfucker should. But y'know..."
"What", Nepeta asked as she positioned herself on the pile, next to Gamzee.
"I dunno if you guys'd forgive me."
"Gamzee, we've had six years to forgive you. We're all alive and well, and we all know why you did what you did. It's okay, really."
When her words didn't seem to register, Nepeta considered her options. She had a mission from her meowrail, and she was going to fulfill it!
She wiped off a bit of leftover paint from Gamzee's cheek and kissed him. That oughta register just fine, Nepeta thought.
"Wha-?"
"If I hadn't forgiven you, would I kiss you?"
"I guess not, kitty."
"I don't think the others would kiss you, Gamzee. But they've forgiven you years ago, trust me."
She gave him another kiss to underline the bit about trust. Gamzee actually seemed amused again, which only hardened Nepeta's resolve. She would make that stupid clown laugh before the sun came up! And what better way to make a guy laugh than to tickle him? Nepeta proceeded to do just that, eliciting a soft chuckle from the slightly-broken juggalo.
"Are you motherfucking sure you wanna go there, chica?"
"If it'll cheer you up, sourpuss!"
"Right!"
Gamzee started to fight back, tickling Nepeta's sides and legs, the horn pile honking noisily as the two trolls began to roll around on top of it.
Outside, Equius listened to the noise, a smug grin growing on his face at the apparent progress his moirail was making.
What he had not counted on was that a tickle fight between two young adults with slightly distorted views was a risky endeavour. He could not see from his vantage point that the tickle fight was degenerating into what the humans would call "heavy petting". He could not tell anything of the sort from the horn pile's noises and the occupants' laughter alone.
He didn't know how badly the plan had derailed in the slightest. Until, instead of barely suppressed feminine laughter, he heard a loud feline yowl.
Things had gone horribly right.
Equius did not think to enter Gamzee's hive and find out what had happened to his moirail. Instead, he went to his own hive to get a towel. He needed one rather badly just from what he assumed the yowl to signify.
It was a good choice too -- if he had gone to Gamzee's, he would've needed a significantly higher amount of towels.
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"Nepeta, what will you do now that you have prodooced this... eggy-looking thing?"
"I don't know, okay?"
"No, it is decidedly not 'okay'. Vantas, you have more... experience on this lood topic. What do you think should be done?"
"I say we just let the leathery sack of whatthefuck be until it hatches, see what color the grub is and decide who gets to take responsibility based on that."
"You mean if the child is of noble blood, Makara gets to be the loosus surrogate?"
"And if it's more along the lines of green, the dumbass catgirl who birthed it gets to fuck it up. Sound fair to you, Nepeta?"
Nepeta just nodded excitedly and hugged her egg. A short bit behind her, Gamzee ruined the mood with a well-timed hOnK.