(A.N: Okay, I'm doing this for the whole story. Homestuck does NOT belong to me. This plot does however. DO NOT STEAL THIS! Now, enjoy~ ^^')

I sluggishly pulled the over sized shirt over my bruise riddled body. My body aches from the night before. I knew the bruises would go away after awhile, but I always got new ones before I had a chance to heal anough.

Gamzee isn't abusive. He can be... a little over baring, but it's all for my own good. I think. He teaches me, what I should do and what I shouldn't. Punishments for bad things, and... Well, I don't get anything for good things, but not getting a beating is good enough.

I slowly shuffle out of the messy motel bedroom into the main room, where Gamzee sat on the couch with a joint and a bottle of alcohol. I look away from him and head towards the refrigerator.

"What 'chu doin' over there, mother fucker?" Gamzee slurred harshly. I swallowed hard, hoping my fear would be swallowed as well.

"Getting something to eat?" I hear him tsk and slouch in his seat. I sigh and open the fridge. Alcohol and pie. Only fucking alcohol. or fucking pie.

I roll my eyes and close the fridge door before beginning my scavenge for food in the cupboards. Only finding dirty dishes and empty cereal boxes.

When did we ever have cereal? Must have been a long while ago.

I shrug it off and turn to look at Gamzee. His eyes blood shot, yet the purple hued irises still glowed. It made my heart flutter like a teenage girl seeing her crush.

He glares up at me and I quickly turn my head, I shouldn't have looked. I know I shouldn't have looked. Never look.

He quickly get gets up off his chair, empty bottles of beer or something falling helplessly to the floor. The clang of glass against the painted concrete made me jump in surprise.

"You mother fuckin' scred?" I hear him growl at me. I keep my eyes on the floor that was scattered with cigarette butts, beer and vodka bottles, and blood stains.

I whimper quietly as he stands in front of me. Fucking tall bastard. I'm the size of a hobbit compared to him.

"I thought you were getting food?" he asks, somehow still sounding angry. I nod slowly, keeping my eyes on his boot. Steel toed leather boots. Damn those things. "ANSWER WHEN I ASK YOU SOMETHING!"

I flinch and my my muscles forcing me to shiver. "Y-Yes, sir..." I whisper.

He growls and grabs my hair tightly, pulling me to my toes. I whine in protest, trying to unhinge his fingers. He forces my face up, my eyes unconsciously glancing at his eyes. They were full of anger. It scared me. It always does.

He roughly throws me to the floor, my tail bone screaming as it hits the concrete. I shiver and my eyes widen in realization.

I'm on the floor.

I quickly try to scramble up, only for it to be in vain as a steel toed boot hit my chest with a crushing force. I gasped and yelped at the sudden pain. I barely had time to think as the foot met my stomach. My breath caught in my throat as I tried to get my breath back.

Another kick. Ribs. Stomach. Stomach. Stomach. Ribs. Ribs. Ribs. Stomach. Ribs.

Eventually I had given up trying to block the hits. My arms lie useless by my sides as the blows finally stop. The familiar taste of blood in my mouth, the aching pain that flows to the rest of my body from my torso.

"Get up!" Gamzee orders. I slowly turn myslef over, pressing my palms against the floor to help me up. "MOTHER FUCKING GET UP!" I gasp and try harder. I push up and scramble to my feet, my legs protesting against the weight of my body, quivering their reluctance.

I whimpered as Gamzee gestured angrily to the bedroom. I looked up pitifully into his indigo eyes. I nodded and slowly began walking to the room. He grumbled and shoved my back, my legs quickly trying to keep up with the rest of me, stumbling agaginst the wall. I shudder and fix myself, standing upright again as I walk into the bedroom.

Once in the doorway, Gamzee grabs my hair and shoves me down onto the floor. I whimper, preparing for another kicking session.

I flinched as Gamzee brought his foot up, my eyes clenching shut. I soon felt the cold rubber bottoms of the shoe against my head. I gulped and my eyes shot open.

Gamzee began pressing down hard on my head. I whined loudly in protest.

"Gamzee! Please! Stop!"

I writhe and squirm under the boot, his pressure only growing harder. The inside of my skull felt like it would soon be reduced to mush. I shivered as I felt as if my head would collapse any given moment. I knew it wouldn't though. Gamzee wouldn't risk another accusation on manslaughter.

A year or so ago, Gamzee had a pal named Tavros. A kind paraplegic guy, a little younger than me. Back then, Gamzee used me just as a play thing or someone to vent his anger onto. Tavros was the one he tried to love.

He said to me that Tavros is a better partner than I could ever be. Even so, one day Gamzee snapped while cleaning his attic in his last house, beofer the motel, and he dropped a 5-by-4 glass shard into the kid's neck from the second floor. Decapitated him and killed him instantly.

"GAMZEE STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO FUCKING CRUSH IT!" I screamed, hearing my ears pop from the pressure. Gamzee scowled and removed his boot. I shiver and quickly hold my head in my hands, pain radiating though my body.