You had thought you had imagined it. It was silly to think that, though you because close to this guy through the Bubbles and knew you would never see him again, but things had an interesting way of being real. No matter what SHOULD be possible.

It was like he had not aged, as if the game had just stopped for him and adrenaline and worry and pain was all that he really knew at this point. Like he was still having to be better, faster, smarter, stronger, more cunning and vicious, and hide the terror behind this monstrous facade called the Cool Kid. And really, you felt your blood pusher contract harshly, all pain and sadness and maybe a tiny, tiny drop of pity. One that you ignore so you may resume your tending.

"Dude, I know I'm prime real estate and that taking eyes off of me is dooming you to forever without enough, but what's a Dave gotta do for some answers?"

A small grin does pull at your lips as you hurry for the TENDING BOWL and TENDING CLOTHS you kept out of nostalgia.

"Hey! Hey, Tavbro, seriously. What the actual fuck man? Are you OLDER?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. And you are not." You smile softly at the perturbed face. "Don't worry. The Game has been over for a while now. In fact, we have peace and all of us, the original twelve and four, are here. Including lusii and Parenting Units."

Before Davesrpite can take off, you grab him by the neck, gently at the nap,e and hold him there. If you had to think about it, it was almost like a purrbeast holding a kitten. A small chuckle bubbles up at the thought. "Now, you, Davesprite, are going to sit here. Do not move."

You are not really assertive, and perhaps you are still a bit too shy and stutter, but you are more sure of taking care of things. Humans. Trolls. Flapbeasts... Davesprite is two of those three, so you have to appeal to both the human and the beast. So, you throw a thin, feathery coverlet over him, downy soft and smelling of Tavros. Davesprite stills, almost as if caught in a trance. This is good. The orange soda-pop colored blood is staining it, but that does not matter. You set to work, gently cleansing him of all the blood and grit and other nasty stuff. Next to go are the bandages and your stomach turns. Oh, oh how terribull...

You hurry to clean him, gagging when inside bits make an advance outside. This is one reason it was hard for you to kill others. The sight and smell of things like this. Davesprite was whimpering, not even trying to fight, but sounding lost and afraid and hurt. Taking a breath, you thread your needle, patting him on the head, your hand now large enough to cup the back of his skull, something that isn't quite possible when he gets older in a few years time.

"Dave, look at me," you murmur in a soothing tone. When he looks at you, all soft eyed with humiliation and tiredness and just general all over exhaustion, you smile again, kissing his temple. It was a human gesture, one that Jade used a lot. "You are going to be fine. But I have to sew you up. Do you want me to give you something?"

You know about this stage of things. One would rather be in pain than give over the ability to react instantly. Trolls feel it, humans feel it, and animals feel it. His paranoia would be as high as theirs once was. You remembered having to do things that made you sick just to keep your comrades alive once you were back. You even remember not wanting to sleep in case Vriska or someone like Eridan lost their think pans again.

He does tend to surprise you. "Y-yeah," he husked. He just lay there, eyes hidden behind obnoxious aviators, something that didn't really ever change even as he got older and more mature, and you sigh. Okay, yes, that did surprise you a lot. "Yeah, go ahead."

"Dave," you say, quickly holding the needle to his arm. The plunger goes down quickly, filling his blood stream with a wonderful narcotic mix of relaxants and pain relievers. "You'll feel dizzy for a moment, but then you will be mentally and physically asleep. It will wear off in about three hours, so just let it happen." It actually might be longer because he is now part animal, but this will keep him out for the duration of what is going to be a very painful procedure and a good deal afterwards, keeping him from moving in pain and upsetting your work.


Hours later, when Davesprite comes back to you, you are rubbing the knots out of his back and wings, one wrapped to help encourage healing the other a heavy unfurled weight on his spine and muscles.

"Oh my goddamed, Tavros, you god, don't you ever stop..."

You laugh, nuzzling into his feathers. "It is a thing, Dave. A thing that is done."

He chuckles, the pain meds in real good, his wounds healed with Jade's and Rose's newest tech. Well, mostly healed. The internal damage is better, anyway. And, yeah, he really shouldn't have become part FEMALE cawbeast. You snort at the mental images that assault you at the thought of him finding out. Oh yeah. That will be hilarious. Most likely.

"Dooooooon't, oh fuck me, Tavbro, you are my new personal god of massage. Oh, ooooh, yeeeeeeeeah," the orange teenbeast purrs, humming and moaning his appreciation and wow those meds are good and oh WOW this is making things kind of awkward, but not really?

"Dave, when you are not high on medication, will you still like me?" you tease, ruffling his hair and generally preening him like a bird would. He relaxes even more into you - not something you thought possible - and chirps. You can't help giggling and then chirping languidly back.

"Yes. Yes, you bovine god of masseusery, I will like you. I may even looooooove yoooooooouuuuuuuuu," he sang, cheeto colored wings fluttering and relaxing. Something warm erupts in your blood pusher and chest. Oh, Dave, you think. How precious you are.