Money, Jokes, and War (Sans x Reader)

Chapter 22:

TW: mentions of kidnapping, scars, death, and panic. 

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"This is as good as it'll get..." You trailed off and tried to reread the message you had thought of sending. It was lengthy, and you tried to explain your situation as much as possible-- without revealing anything you shouldn't. This was around your 9th draft of the message, and you had debated including photos for proof, but on the offhand that Sans does see the message, you can always send proof after. Papyrus doesn't need to see that. Maybe you're treating him like too much of a child? How old is he anyways?

You stood up and stretched your arms above your head, letting your back crack and fingers pop. You were hunched over that laptop for the longest time without any break. Who knows a break might make you feel better before you send it off. You pushed the laptop aside and got off of your bed. The comfortable rug below was an instantaneous distraction from the message.

You walked over to your bathroom to take care of your business, and assess any remaining damage from that night. It had been about three weeks since it happened, and you were feeling a lot better physically. Your burns had almost completely healed, and all you had left to do was keep your skin moisturized. You stripped yourself of your top layer and applied lotion to your back (as much as you could reach) and the backs of your arms and legs.

Though, looking at your face, it wasn't hard to see how much everything had hurt you in the recent months. You had a few scars here and there doting your body from the kidnapping, and your face had a small one on the top right of your lip. Your forearms and hands definitely held the most scarring, but with how religiously you had been taking care of it, they've turned into light marks on your skin.

You were happy you couldn't see any possible scars on your back.

You exited your bathroom and went to change into new clothes, throwing the old ones in the hamper. Speaking of which, you should probably start a load of laundry. Nodding your head to confirm the idea you slipped into a simple F/C shirt and an old pair of pajama pants. The hamper was mostly full after you scrambled to grab old clothes scattered on the floor to wash. You opened your bedroom door, then grabbed the hamper and walked out to the bathroom in the living room.

It was a half bath because it doubled as a laundry room, but that wasn't an issue. You dumped your clothes on the floor and began to sort through the colorful pieces and white pieces to make two loads. While you could get new ones if anything did stain, it was too much of a hassle. Pouring in laundry detergent after throwing your first load in, you set your basket out of the way and return to your room.

God you had to read this again and correct any possible mistakes.

"Hey Papyrus. I don't really know how to say this, or if you even care to hear from me at this point. I don't have an excuse for leaving so abruptly or cutting off all contact with you guys. It was horrible, rude, and downright awful of me to do. I'm so sorry. Though, I owe you an explanation for everything that happened.

The day after we hung out and had a blast. I had gotten kidnapped. It sounds crazy and unbelievable but I do have proof I could show if you wanted it? I don't remember too much of what happened, but there was this jackrabbit monster and a minotaur monster who kidnapped me. I know there had to be more than two I just can't remember.

That totally ruined my perception of monsters, and in fear of seeing you guys and remembering/reliving that night over and over again. I left. No word just left it all behind. I'm sorry.

The reason I'm reaching out to you now is because I have information that monsters should know about, and because I miss you. You don't have to reply, or even say anything. Hell, I wouldn't message me back if someone did that to me.