Complete opposites

To get help

Life had been harsh for him in the Underground. Living in a kill or be killed world, trying deseperately to survive with a little brother whose mouth was even bigger than their hunger, with "friends" involving into troubles with the royal guard and using him as a scapegoat for their deeds... To say that he had been busy was an understatement. So when he reached the surface, after years and years of hardship, and that his life calmed down, he realized that something was wrong. He had always been harsh and rude, and people would not describe him as patient, but he sometimes would snap out at everyone for no apparent reason for a few days, before staying on his bed for another cycle of days, not having the strength to get up, reliving his every mistakes and regretting them deeply. Then he would go back to normal for about two months, then it would all happen again.

He also noticed that during these times, his sleep schedule was completely changed : he would lay awoke many nights, feeling restless, wanting to do something, anything productive. That was what made him tick. And sometimes, he would feel like a narcoleptic, falling asleep every hours of the day. Of coursen when he was Underground, he didn't notice that, but when he did, he put that on the fact that those reactions were a response to his world's rules : he stayed awake to make sure that his baby brother would not be attacked during the night, his violent self was there to prevent people to get near them, and his guilt was brought up by "the judge".

But now, there was no need for that, and when he saw that it didn't stop now that he was safe, he knew that this had nothing to do with his previous lifestyle, though it may have been heightened by those rules. For a few years, he tried to cope with it, ignore it or try to not think about it, trying to deal with it on his own. But now? three years after? Nothing had changed. Well, almost. This time, something happened. Something big and bad that would haut him for days until he dies.

He lashed out at his brother, blaming him for every hits he took -done by other monsters or by said brother- for having made him be like this. And he hit him. He hit his brother. He slapped him so hard that he hurt himself. But it wasn't the important part for him. As soon as he regained his bearings, guilt and sorrow wracked him. How could he have done this? He would never ever do that normally. Except that he did. Even if it was alittle blurry, he did this. No amount of apologies, tears and attempt to make it up to him would ever change this fact. The same day, after putting his brother to bed and reading him his bedtime story -though his brother told him that it was nothing, that he barely felt it and that as an adult, he didn't need a bedtime story, he took his phone, and composed a certain number.

"Mt Ebott hospital's reception, what can I do for you?" "I would like ta make an appointment as soon as possible. I think...no...Something's definitely wrong with me." "Of course sir, is it physical or mental?" "...Mental." "Alright, I will give an appointment, Mr...?" "Red. Red Felldings."

He didn't want to wake up. Let him sleep longer.Longer and longer and longer. Let Papyrus yell louder and louder, he didn't care. All he wanted was to sleep, to close his eyesockets and never open them again. Had he always been like this? No, not at all. In fact, he had been the opposite before. If he had to describe his situation, his life was an alevator, and right now, he was stuck in the basement. Before, everything was fine : he loved his job, his new lifestyle, his city... He may not have been the most joyous monster back in the Underground, he was far away from...that. After trying to do as he pleased and see that he failed, he got up with a groan, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He sat on his bed, tank top hanging from his shoulders. He sat there unmoving for a few minutes, before putting his face on his hands and cry. He didn't know why he was crying, nor for how how much time he spent there crying. He barely managed to stop himself, before finally standing.

He cried some more while he prepared himself for the day. But of course, he would compose himself while being with his brother. Though they were not talking to each other a lot lately. Because something happened. Something big that he would regret his entire life. He had an argument with his brother, something about his brother having gone into a fight with someone else at college. Sans had been mentally and physically exhausted that day, but it wasn't an excuse for what he did. He yelled, no scream at his brother. Something he never did before and would have never contemplate doing. But he did. And it was vivid in his head. This had fueled his crying that night, after apologising again and again and granting any request his brother made -though his brother told him he was fine, that he knew his brother didn't mean it at all and that he was old enough to move and get the remote to change the channel on TV, and he softly and as silently as possible cried all night, before falling asleep from exhaustion...For being awaken by his alarm clock thrity minutes later.

After seing that he was 'ready', he teleported in front of his workplace : the hospital. He entered the building, not giving a look to the patients there, not because he looked down on them, but because he might cry just looking at them, and people would take him for a regular patient, when it was the complete opposite. He walked to the psychology aisle, and he passed in front of the reception desk. "Good morning docteur Serif. You have a patient already waiting for you in the waiting room." He sighed tiredly. "Already? *sigh* alright, tell him that I will take him in a few minutes." "Alright doc-" "Are ya the doctor Sans Serif?" came a gruff voice behind him.

He turned around to see a skeleton monster looking like him a lot. "Yeah? What can I do for you?" "Ya're late. I've been waiting for you for forty minutes." The other one told him coldly, his arms crossed. Sans scratched his head, looking detached from everything that was happening there. "Sorry." The other one looked increduloudly at him. "...Sorry? That's all ya got?" "Yeah, that's all. Still want to go?" The other looked REALLY annoyed. "Of course!! Why do ya think I came? Just to say hello to some random stranger then walk away??!!" Sans stayed put for a moment, blinking surprised at him. He already had some ideas running through his head about this patient.

"Alright then, Mr..." He looked at the file his secretary gave him, "Felldings. Red Felldings? " "No, I'm the fucking president of the association for the protection of lamas. Of course it's me!" Red walked past him towards to examination room. Sans sighed, already hating all of this. 'This will be a looooong day...'

Red explained him what was wrong with him, but he got the impression that this Sans wasn't listening to him. Sans on the other hand, was listening distractely. Something about this stranger was off... Felldings...Felldings...Why do this name told him something... "Oh. Oh! Oh!!! Ya listening to what I said or what??!!" An angry voice... "Edge Felldings!" Red looked at Sans incredulously.

"...How do ya know my brother's name?And what does it have to do with my problem?" Sans stared at him for a moment. "Edge's your brother?" "...Yeah? What doe-" "So it's your brother who beat mine?" "...What?" "Papyrus. He is my little brother. And yours hurt him." Sans stated coldly. "So what ? Are ya gonna blame me for what my bro did? He's an adult, I can't be behind him everytime." Red answered, feeling the anger boiling inside him, but repressing as best as he could. Sans on the other hand, wanted to lash out at Red, wanted to let him down, to find another doctor to treat him, but he couldn't. That damn guilt was already rearing it's head, so he should just be quick. Already the tears were pricking at the corners of his eyesockets.

"Alright...And yes, he heard you just fine." Sans sat, his indifference still showing. "I know what's wrong." Red stared at him, sweat beading on his skull. "So?" Sans sighed dejectedly, before standing, rummaging in one of his drawers and getting a small booklet. "Bipolar disorder. I'm sorry."

Alright, here it is! A big sorry to Chatxmarinette for the delay, and I hope you will like it and that I didn't made too many big mistakes! Comments are very welcome and once again, if you think and see that I don't depict this as it is truly, please stay polite in the comments, and remember that I try to write a story about something I am not familiar at all with and that I didn't live through! So any constructive comments are welcome! Anyways, have a lovely day or night everyone!