𝐇𝐄'𝐈𝐈 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄⎟⎟ 𝖴𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗅𝖾

T e r r i f i e d

⎯𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄
(n.) He's easy to talk to but hard to explain
𑁍࿐ྂ

• Bone pain/numbness of bones

• swelling and tenderness near the affected area

• fluttering sounds in lungs and bones

• vomiting

• Migraine

• Unexplained nausea

• Fatigue

• weekend bone, leading of fracture

Sans told the doctor all of his symptoms and all they did was prescribed him medications. They never even bothered to get him a check up. Or maybe that was not how it works, but Sans thinks transporting half an hour to get there, just to collect meds sounded pretty dumb. He rather sleep then do this.

Maybe paps was right. The nurses, and doctors, they were all right. There was nothing much they could do to help him without knowing what the sharp pains in his head were. The pain killers they prescribed to him a month ago did nothing.

It was harder than he thought it was. All he wanted was one simple thing⎯for the pain to stop. He was so tired of swallowing random pills that tasted like plastic in his mouth and forcing himself to swallow it. He wants to be normal again, are something like normal. He wants to be able to sleep without feel pain every night. To join paps at his station. To slack off at his posts. To hear paps scolding him. To see paps angry face again.

Clicking

That sound again, the feeling of butterflies. It felt great at the moment. But pain came with the feeling. Pure excruciating pain.

Sans sighs, and this time there's a hint
of sadness in his tone, blue liquid
flowed down to his cheek bone without him knowing it. He stared at the polaroid of his favourite photo; of him and Papyrus. It was last Christmas, where they headed to a festival not far from where they lived in Snowdin Town, with pretty fairy lights hanging behind them.

They didn't have a care in the world when the photo was taken. They were smiling brightly at the camera, and just by looking at it already radiates so much happiness.

"Sans?" He hears a sleepy Papyrus coming from behind him, immediately wiping away the tears on his cheek bone, placing the polaroid into his hoodie pocket immediately,"You're up earlier than me brother. That's new." Papyrus yawns, stretching his arms before he sat next to him, laying on his side.

Looking at Papyrus made him feel a little better and a small smile plastered across his face as soon as he met his eye sockets.

"Good morning brother."

"Morning, paps." Sans grinned in distress, stressing over the doctor's words. Papyrus knew he'd hadn't slept because of the appointment, but he always tries to pretend he was a mood wrecker. So he played along. Except this time he couldn't, because he knew his brother was sobbing.

Papyrus sighed lowly trying to look at the bright side, "I know it's getting really hard and the great Papyrus realises it's a lot to take in but. . ." His voice tapers off and he forces himself to meet San's gaze and when he did, he wish he hadn't. San's wounded, painful blank expression makes him filled with guilt, "You're super duper strong. The great Papyrus doesn't think he'd be able to even get out of bed if I was in your position." Papyrus says and Sans broke the gaze, blue dust on his cheek bone, smiling to himself.

Clicking

"So, uh hehe. . ." Sans mumbled feeling a sharp pain in his ribs, he turned his face to Papyrus, who seemed to be all ears for him already, "Ya won't leave me even if ya mad, right?"

"Nyeh?"

"Mad at what?"

"Me."

"What are you talking about, brother?
Come on, we should go eat break--"

"I made my decision paps," Sans interrupts, enough to make Papyrus sit back down in the couch, looking at his eldest brother in confusion.

"What decision?"

Sans pursed his teeth, coughing, before he speaks again, "The surgery. I don't-I don't want it. I don't want them poking though my skull and having me bedridden for days, or weeks. I-I think I prefer the way I am, now."

Papyrus stared at him for a few seconds and his mouth kept opening and closing, like he wanted to say something, but hesitated.

"You don't have to make your decision now. You have plenty of time," Papyrus says before realisation strikes him a second after. He sighs under his breath once more, stayed silence, not knowing what else to say, but when he finally did, his cheerful voice sounds defeated, "Sans, please brother."

The silence fell against them once more and Papyrus spoke again, this time meeting his gaze, "Sans, do you want to die?" The sentence sits stagnant in the space between them, so long since he last used the word so when he did, it sounded foreign slipping off his teeth.

Sans drops his head down, and after a sniff, he tries to meet Papyru's eye sockets, but can't bring himself to, and abruptly caves, "Nah. I mean, of course not bro," He spoke calmly, "I'm just afraid paps."

"Of death."

Sans thought for a second, he wasn't afraid of dying. He's been through a lot of genocide runs to fear death, he's been traumatized severely seeing his little brother die by that human child every single reset, death was the least of his problems.

What was he afraid of, terrified actually, fared for his soul it was much worse.

"No paps. Afraid you'll leave me to die alone."

Papyrus audibly gasped before pulling him closer, shaking his head, "I would never do that, ever. I'll take care of you and be here with you for the rest of your life brother, remember?" Papyrus says and stops talking because his voice was trembling and his hands were shaking.

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