Ace in a Hole: Collaborative Shenenigans

Chapter 16

Alastor is inclined to believe that Charlie's secret double was most certainly Papyrus. They had the same traits. They looked nothing alike, their genders far and different from one another, different species altogether, and different planes of existence. Yet Papyrus was Charlie, and Charlie was Papyrus. There was no denying such factual statements of that nature. Sans says he doesn't see it, but he has yet to meet Charlie. Alastor will get an 'I told you so' the moment Sans meets Charlie. It's bound to happen.

A consequence of such similarities is how easy it is to fall into hating the man. Naturally, Alastor would detest him, as the man wasn't Sans or his Mother and was therefore irrelevant to Alastor. Then Papyrus spoke, and ah, how Alastor hated him.

Alastor cannot find fault in Sans loving his brother. It would be hypocritical to judge such a relationship he and his Mother mirrored. Alastor is sure Sans would likely find faults and issues in his Mother if they met, even if Alastor thinks the sun shines out of her. But fuck, couldn't Sans have chosen anyone else to have as his family? Papyrus spoke in a high-pitched voice that grated at his ears, and that damn 'nyeh heh heh' was so obtusely stupid that Alastor debated strangling him on the spot. If he were to have met Papyrus during his living years, the man would have been mentally noted for after-work activities.

But Sans loves him, so Alastor must refrain from doing anything to him. Which is fine, Alastor holds himself back a lot from killing people. And Papyrus makes Sans smile, all sweet and gooey, and that's something Alastor doesn't want to snatch away from him. Alastor knows that taking Papyrus' life would be an end to their friendship. Which means he would have to kidnap Sans, and then Sans would hate him more, and it'd be a whole situation he'd rather not deal with.

The whole point of being friends with Sans was to hang out with him and enjoy his company. If he had Sans tied up somewhere, there's not much he could do to force Sans to interact with him if Sans decided not to. Sans could be stubborn. Their little quips, their jokes, their dynamic he found he very much enjoyed; all of it would be gone in an instant. The purity of it all vacuumed out into the space of nothingness. The best Alastor could do would be to force physical things upon Sans, but all he'd crave from the skeleton was their slaps or hugs or sudden flights of silly fights. Anything more would be just as revolting to Alastor than Sans. No point in pursuing it. No matter how much he wished Papyrus would just go to heaven so Alastor could deal with one Charlie clone in his life. He does not need two.

Alastor had been debating a lot back and forth throughout the wedding on the state of Papyrus' life. Living. That didn't sit right with Alastor. Sans himself agreed that heaven suited Papyrus, so why not send him there a little earlier?

Alastor had managed to talk himself down internally from such a decision, but that had been put into question right when Papyrus clung to his hands and made him almost want to vomit from discomfort. People really did need to get some space nowadays. Sans, the perfect bestie he was, quickly drew Alastor away and returned him to safety. The feeling of Papyrus against him compared to Sans was night and day. Alastor detested physical contact, and only did so under his own accord.

Sans was different, though. His magic was cold, his bones just as chilly as the attacks that pierced him. Combine that with no skin and the knowledge that the touch was Sans was enough to dissuade any remaining dislike. Papyrus' hands were inhuman yet warmer, as if sticking around a fireman long enough chased away some of the chill Sans said lingered in skeletons. The mere touch of Papyrus was enough for Alastor's usual restraint to draw thin and tight, like a bowstring in use. Ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Alastor really did need to work on his self-restraint. The relationship he and Sans had was something he treasured deeply, and intended to continue for the rest of eternity. Killing Papyrus would throw it all out the window, and he would hate to do so. And he had to remind himself of that several times over the night, repeating it like a mantra until it stuck.