Broken lives of Broken Bones

Chapter 5

Sans sat hunched under his sentry station pulling his jacket tighter around himself as he shivered slightly. The slight movement of his body caused a few jagged splinters to dig into his scapula even through the thick fabric of his jacket. The shivering was not caused by the cold, rather as he thought about what he had come there to do the shivers strengthened. Sans raised a shuddering hand up beneath his shirt, flinching hard as a sharpened point of a phalange scraped across his soul, blistering pain from that touch already coursing through his small body. More gently now he wraps his hand around the weakly fluttering soul withdrawing it slowly and bringing it in front of his skull. The soul looked pitiful resting in his hands, the edges were gray with hairline cracks making it appear more like a poorly made puzzle than the center of his being. The bright cherry red of his magic that once used to encompass the whole should now only sputtered weakly at the core, almost seeming to beg for an end to its struggles. Sighing Sans runs a thumb over the surface with a weak smile before placing both sharpened thumbs at the center and pressing down, hard. 

As intense pain began radiating from the center of his being, Sans faintly thinks about if he was going to make any noise but at this time of day no one would be stupid enough to be out this far in the woods unless they were looking for him, and no one would ever look for a piece of trash monster like him. The pain drove him to sink his phalanges into the rubbery surface of the soul until one sharpened finger tip breaks the surface, with an inferno of pain, condensed magic began readily welling up from the wound. With surprisingly steady hands Sans gripped harder at the soul ripping at it, a gash forming from the original puncture mark. Magic now flowed freely slicking his hands making it harder for him to keep a hold of his soul. After what seemed like aeons a soul slipped out of his hands landing on the snow with a sickening plop.  Sagging onto the splintered surface of the underside of the station Sans weakly looks over to the shredded form of his soul attempting to lift a hand to finish what he started. After a moment of being unable to lift the now concrete weight of his arm Sans instead does what he does best and gives up leaning his head back and closing his sockets as he waits for the remainder of his life force to make it's way out of his battered soul. Before losing what consciousness he has Sans genuinely smiles for the first time in years, knowing that he was finally doing what his brother had wanted most, for him to no longer exist.

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After getting a safe distance into the woods that surrounded snowdin Papyrus finally allowed himself to go from his standard menacing walk into a full blown jog. Thoughts wormed their way into his mind of the events of the last few hours. The discovery that he was the reason for those cracks and scars that covered the smaller skeletons frame was a jarring moment, but then having that pimp of a flame monster to dare call him saying that Sans was gonna dust himself?!? How dare that purple flamed fuck try and insinuate that it was his fault for his spineless brothers weakness? His pace increased after a moment as another thought passed, 'if you don't care about what happens to him... why are you running out here?' 
Papyrus passes by the various stations heading to the one place he thought his idiot of a brother would try and do such a thing at. Soon he was standing facing the large door that securely separated the ruins from the rest of the wretched underground. Not seeing his brother readily in front of the door Papyrus begins searching the surrounding woods looking for a sliver of black or red fabric to catch his eye lights. After  a few minutes of searching Papyrus turns back towards the town wondering if his coward of a brother had decided to go to waterfall instead. Running by the stations once again he skids to a halt in front of Sans station. A splash of red on the snow behind the station catches his attention. Taking quiet steps he approaches the station and rounds the side, staring down at a horrific scene. There his brother is slumped against the inner side of the station, his hands and arms coated in red and the mangled remains of his soul laying a scant 6 inches from Sans motionless body,  laying in a puddle of magic that could still be seen sluggishly spilling from the remainder of the soul. An actual smile plastered on the skull of the dying skeleton, Papyrus hasn't seen his brother smile in such a natural way in years. Dropping to his knees the much larger of the skeleton brothers gently picks up what remains of the entirety of his brother. Already knowing things were dire he begins trying to funnel as much of his meager healing magic he can into the fluttering soul as he ran a *check* on his brother. The influx of healing magic increased as Papyrus saw his brothers HP sitting at 0.24 instead of the 1 it was typically. Even pouring as much magic as he is able into the fading form of his brother the health only begins to increase slowly after around 14 minutes of a steady flow of healing.  After an hour of healing the dying soul Papyrus manages to get it to above 0.5 deciding the rest of the healing can now take place in their home where they will be more protected from potential attacks. Gracefully he bends down keeping a gentle hold on the soul in one hand as he lifts the slumped form of his brother with the other holding him tight to his side as he marches through the woods back to their home.