His Broken Promises (Kustard/Dustard Ship Story)

Chapter 4- Changing Clothes

(~❤️‍🩹\💙~)

Fell woke up with a pained grunt. His back was aching more than anything. It took the dazed skeleton a few moments to remember everything that happened. Sans attempted to kill him.

Fell screamed and sat up. He quickly regretted that decision when the sudden movement sent another wave of pain up his spine. The immense pain caused Red to freeze up, his pupils shaking as he held back another scream.

"I see the painkillers wore off." Dust spoke up. Fell's former soulmate was giving him a glare from across the living room, intently watching him whilst leaning on the kitchen doorway. He weaved the handle of his knife between his fingers. It was a skill that he was able to do so without getting cut.

Red was overwhelmed quickly. He was still alive, but then was quickly brought back to this nightmare. Between the pain and emotional stress, Fell's bones began to tremble.

To make matters even worse, Red looked down to see he had been undressed. Fell was in an extra pair of Classic's shorts but his shirt was gone. Instead, Fell's ribcage was completely covered and wrapped in heavy-duty bandaging. "I'm not a healer so I gave ya medicine from my personal provisions. They came from Al's lab and I don't have much of it. I've already wasted enough saving your life so don't expect me to give you anything else." Dust explained firmly.

Fell wrapped his arms around himself, highly insecure that his soul had been exposed to practically a stranger. How could he be so inconsiderate?! But the more Fell thought about it, the more he became confused. This was still Classic, his soulmate. Or had that become void since turning into Dust? Either way, he still didn't appreciate Sans' lack of manners.

"Ya caN aT leAst give mE my clOthEs." Red snarled. "Clothes? You mean the coffee and blood soaked rags? I already threw those out. You supposed to be some kind of butler?" Red narrowed his gaze with an aggravated huff, "I was doing something important, alright?! In Underfell."

Dust laughs, "The Underfell? Being from the top known au of violence, I would've expected ya to give me more of a fight-" "JUST GET ME MY CLOTHES!" Fell exclaimed impatiently.

"For the last time numbskull, I threw them out!" Dust snarled, stepping closer. "Not tHose! I could care less about that- I'm talking about the extra set of my clothes put aside in your closet!" Fell flinched as Dust arched an eyebrow, his eyes glowing brighter under his hood. "My closet? You must be joking. Why would your clothes be in my room?" The comment had definitely slipped from Fell's tongue. Dust didn't remember? Fell was caught off guard by that. Now he definitely couldn't tell Dust. Having to explain that him and Classic had been soulmates until Fell forgot about him would most definitely get him killed faster.

Dust stepped forward, growing impatient with Fell's silence. He suddenly pointed the knife towards Fell's eye sockets, demanding, "ANSWER ME."

(~❤️‍🩹\💙~)

The self claimed Sans from Underfell backed himself into the corner of the couch. He was trying to hide his pain by doing so, but Dust already saw how much his tattered bones were shaking.

"We w-were friends! I stayed here sometimes so you kept a pair of my clothes in your closet just in case! ThAt'S iT! NOW PUT THE KNIFE AWAY!"

Friends, huh? So he did have friends before the genocide. Why couldn't Dust remember it? Most importantly, why did they never come for him? When the kid kept killing and resetting, no one was there to help him. Maybe Dust wouldn't be in this situation if someone had been there... Or would he have killed them too like he did to Papyrus?