The hand that holds the chain(swapfell)part 2

chapter 4

Sans figured that it would be difficult breaking Papyrus's tendency to use his own body as a shield rather than use a construct of some sort. It was bad enough that BEFORE all of this happened, Papyrus put very little value into his own life, but Sans wanted that to STOP.

And what better way to make Papyrus listen, than to MAKE him listen.

It had taken a good few hours to set it up, but Sans was satisfied that his contraption would do the trick. He kept it hidden from Papyrus as he instructed his younger brother to stand next to a pole behind their house. “We're going to play a little game, Papyrus,” he said, bending down and picking up a handful of small beanbags he borrowed from Alphys for target practice. “Without moving from that pole, I want you to impale these before they hit the ground. Understood?”

“Yes, m'Lord,” Papyrus answered, nodding. Sans nodded back and began tossing the beanbags here and there, watching Papyrus spear them through with bone constructs, using the last one to toss directly over his head, feeling the beanbag be shot through a mere six inches from his skull.

Wonderful.

“Good boy,” Sans said, walking back over and standing before Papyrus before kicking the taller Skeleton's ankles out from under him to make him kneel. “Hands behind your back.”

Papyrus obediently put his hands behind him, remaining still as Sans walked around to weave a chain between his wrists, hearing the chain being attached to the pole. Sans gave it an experimental tug to test its give and stepped back when satisfied. “Once more,” Sans said, picking up more beanbags, tossing them around.

His brother's magic weaved without gesture, spearing them through midair with little difficulty, and once more, Sans finished up with satisfaction. He walked back over to Papyrus, taking out a small trigger remote and holding it up.

“Do you see this?” he said, waiting before Papyrus nodded before continuing, “when I press this button, rocks will be launched from one of the many springs I have placed around here. You are to destroy them as you did the beanbags. Is that understood?”

“Yes, m'Lord,” Papyrus said, his eyelight flickering sharply. Sans smiled and pressed the trigger button, a rock shooting out from somewhere in the bushes. Papyrus quickly honed in on it and shattered it with a bone construct, the pieces dropping in the snow.

“Very good,” Sans purred, petting Papyrus's skull. “Now then.” He lowered his hand, put the trigger behind his back, and began to walk backwards. Moments later, another rock was launched out, missing Sans by scarcely four inches before Papyrus managed to destroy it before it hit the ground. He kept taking steps backwards, ignoring the panicked shimmer in his younger brother's visage as he pressed the button again.

The first couple of shots WERE rocks; the next few were merely small grey bags full of snow that couldn't hurt him if they TRIED. He trusted Papyrus, but he didn't trust his own HP to hold out on the off-chance something DID happen. But Papyrus wasn't going to learn this with kid gloves, and he had a duty to train his brother out of using his body and instead using his magic

“Keep your guard up, Papyrus,” he said firmly. “Your Lord has only one HP. Your broken form is no good to me, so you had best stay vigilant with your magic!” He pressed the trigger again, feeling a bone construct whiz past his shoulder as it impaled the snow bag, pressing the trigger again before Papyrus could focus on WHAT it was he hit, and kept it up in quick succession, resuming his backwards-walk into the fray.

There were thirty snow bags he had coiled back, but Sans was scarcely into twelve before Papyrus began struggling against his bindings. Sans paused before taking off his bandanna and tying it around his eye sockets.