It Still Hurts (An Undercaged Short)

It Still Hurts

Author's Note- I know that for a while I've been mainly focused on Sans and his trauma and mental health, but I haven't once given any attention to how Grillbz might be coping with all he's seen Sans go through. It isn't going to sit well with him and with how paranoid he can be...candle boi might need some comforting of his own.

Trigger warning in this story for uncensored language, a depiction of suicide, a suicide attempt, character death (but not really), nightmares, a panic attack resulting in a non-verbal episode, depictions of PTSD, guilt, discussions of suicidal thoughts, and discussions of depression. Tread lightly.

Otherwise, hope you enjoy!

***

He was right there. Right in front of him. Just within his reach. He was gonna do it! He wasn't too late! Sans was gonna be okay! He was gonna be okay...

Wait...wait no! NO NO NO NO NO!

"SANS!"

Grillbz felt his soul leave him as he ran forward, arm outstretched as he reached towards Sans; towards his best friend in an attempt to grab him before he dropped off the edge.

He was gonna make it! He was gonna make it!

But as his hand went to grab Sans by the shirt...

...his finger brushed against the edge of the soft fabric...

...he was too late.

"NO! SANS! NO! NO!"

Grillbz's eyes went wide and he couldn't hold back the scream that sounded as he reached over the edge of the cliff; as if Sans was still within his reach.

But it was exactly as he feared. Sans was dropping. Faster and faster as his form became more and more distant; soon disappearing with a splash in the lava miles below.

Grillbz could only stare in shock a moment; his brain trying to comprehend what just happened. His hair flashed between purple and black and blue in a slow rotation; his yellow eyes boring straight into the lava below as only one thought played on loop in his head.

Sans was gone. Sans was gone and he was never coming back. He was too late. He couldn't save him in time.

He failed.

Grillbz couldn't stop shaking as he sat back on his knees, his breath quickening when his hand brushed against something soft next to him. He looked over to see Sans' hoodie next to him; abandoned by the skeleton that just fell to his death. He moved as if he were a robot, gripping the hoodie as he lifted it; his fingers brushing against the soft blue fabric as the reality of the situation became that much more real.

Sans was dead. He was dead he was dead he was really dead...

...and it was all his fault.

As if his brain finally caught up with his soul, tears began to fall with reckless abandon; Grillbz hugging the hoodie close to his chest as all he could do was scream. Scream for his failure, scream for the loss of his best friend, scream scream scream...

His voice echoed uselessly on the rocky walls of Hotland; a sorrowful symphony for the loss of yet another member of the Skilton family...