The house was quiet with the morning's gentle touch. Soft bouts of light fluttered through the blinds in the window, bathing everything in its reach. Birds sang softly of the day's distant joys, the sound dancing throughout the warm air and dipping among blooming flowers and lush grass. This sweetness touched those who even were at rest, but, in this case, Sci was wide awake and could take this in fully, not unusual with how he threw himself into his work constantly. But it was hard not to when this was what greeted him when he committed to science papers and reports.
His coffee mug sat at the table, poised just far enough that the scientist wouldn't bump it, the steam twisting in the air like ribbons in the wind. His papers littered the table, as well, red pens marking up some with jumbled words and others with hastily written equations that sometimes felt like code that only he could unravel. Sci had dressed in a pale brown turtleneck and slacks this morning (one of his more fashionable choices, if you were to ask someone), his glasses carefully taped to his skull as he worked. Nothing would ruin this flow. Nothing could, as little Rus was fast asleep still and his boss had given him today off. Nothing could possibly go wrong. He could stay contented with the ridiculous mathematical toil he now was faced with.
Of course, Murphy's Law dictates otherwise. Bitter as it may be, anything that can go wrong, will.
Sci's warning was only the weak rapping against his white, wooden door. Despite its soft nature, it seemed to have silenced the wind's tender murmurs and the birds' music. Hushed whispers reached him, the twinge of pain enough for him to move despite his annoyance with the interruption. He gripped the door handle, taking a deep breath, and throwing up the door.
Once open, the breath he had just taken was stolen away.
Sci knew Strawberry to always looked disheveled, as though he couldn't be bothered to present himself more than a homeless bum, but this took it to another level. Ruby eyelights had died into pale, flickering magic, the color seemingly stolen by the magical residue on his clothes, which manifested in burns, many of which still hot with embers. His very body shuddered with the very effort of standing, and supporting a child.
And that's really what got him the most. A baby bones, equally as shaken as the adult. Their clothes were wrinkled, and it looked like they had sustained minor injuries.
"I... I know 'm a piddlin' sight, Sci... an' ya don't like me much... but I didn't know where ta go." Strawberry rasped out, voice so, so quiet. Sci could see tears prickling at his sockets, only held back by sheer will to support the baby bones.
He stepped back and watched his alternate inside, each step agonizingly slow. Nonetheless, Sci did not rush him. Rather, he closed the door and moved ahead, moving some of the pillows on his couch to make a comfortable spot to lie down the kid.
"...what happened?" Sci asked as Strawberry let the child onto the cushions. The edgier skeleton draped a blanket over them afterward, placing a teddy right beside them. They instantly latched onto the toy.
Strawberry glanced at him, briefly making eye contact before ducking his head, "B-Boss came home and he wasn't too happy ta find a youngin in the house. The swaps wanted me ta take care o' him, but I failed... Boss ain't..."
"you live with your boss?"
"...tha's wha' he wants me ta call him..."
Sci shook his head, deciding best not to untangle that mass of words right now. He leaned over the child, attempting to press his hand to his skull, only for him to whimper and bury himself into the blanket. Sci's frown deepened.
"Strawberry, what did you do?" There was an accusing tone in his voice that he just couldn't reign in for some reason.
"I didn't...!" Strawberry seemed to choke, "the kid's been through a lot an' it's not very nice ta put tha' all on me 'cuz ya hate me! I don't know wha' exactly made him... scared an' all tha', but Boss probably did somethin' before I got there."
The scientist adjusted his glasses, but did not respond.
"Look, I know ya don't believe me, but I didn't hurt 'im. I wouldn't do somethin' like tha'," Strawberry gestured to the child," Lil' Bones here is jus' tha' way. Comes wit' the territory."
Sci shook his head again, sighing, "what's his name?"
"Lil' Bones. I jus' said it."
"...right, okay."
Sci patted Strawberry's shoulder (promptly ignoring the violent flinch he received in response), and moved to the kitchen. Rus would be up soon, and he had more mouths to feed. He'd rather not make pancakes, but he had promised his brother the sweet food. And he doesn't break promises.
"Does he need medical attention?" Sci called from the kitchen, grabbing a pan and butter.
He heard shuffling before, "nah, jus' some scraps. He'll be okay."
"Strawby is hurt!" came a tiny voice, rough with extreme use.
...
Little Bones was good with nicknames, Sci thought. Strawby is... cute.
He poked his head from the doorway, sizing up the flustered skeleton.
"'m not hurt badly. I jus'... naturally limp...?"
"...I'll patch you up once breakfast is done. For now, Little Bones should rest."
Not long after the golden cakes had finished, Rus came downstairs, pulling on his scarf as he moved. Sci watched as he poured himself and Strawberry coffee, a fond smile on his face.
"morning, bro."
"Good morning, brother! I see we have company!" Rus animatedly pointed to Strawberry and then the lump on the couch that was Little Bones. Sci chuckled softly at the behavior his brother had always displayed. Grandness really was his forte.
"they came for a little visit. Strawberry's taking care of a kid named Little Bones; that's the couch monster right now."
Little Bones grunted from his spot, popping his head out from the blanket, "'m no blanket monster! You are!"
Sci snorted loudly, glancing away and covering his mouth. In response, he got three blank, confused stares, but he did not explain. Instead, he finally plated the pancakes and set them on the table, now cleared from clutter. He put butter and syrup in the center, then followed up with orange juice for the boys. Rus was quick to sit down, but Strawberry had to coax Little Bones to the table and, the entire time, he gripped his plush like a lifeline.
Once everyone was seated, Rus and Sci began eating. Little Bones and Strawberry glanced between one another and the meal and, slowly, they began to eat, as well. Unhurried movements in a fast moving life. Afraid.
While Rus and Sci brought life to the dining room with conversation, their guests made no attempt to respond or join in. Even when Little Bones had been asked questions, he had fallen silent and gave vague gestures instead of any substantial answer. Rus had taken this in stride, despite his older brother's obvious frustration with this behavior the other child had presented.
When it was over, Strawberry did up the dishes while Sci went over the day's plan with Little Bones and Rus. The idea had been to take Rus swimming, but the guests' sudden arrival had made that difficult, so Sci was suggesting Rus take Little Bones to the park or stay home and hang out in his room. Sci would be too busy to hang out, but he'll check in every once in a while.
Once they understood, they were sent away to decide their plan of action. Sci then went back to Strawberry, leaning against the wall while his counterpart dried his hands.
"So, you're hurt? I know your leg is injured, but where else?"
"Lil Bones told ya a tall tale, Sci."
Sci moved closer, grabbing the edgy version by the shoulders. Fear and confusion flashed across the cracked skull.
"If you're not going to tell me, then I'm going to find out on my own. You're not being stupid in my house."
Strawberry choked, grasping onto Sci's wrists, "please don't say things like tha'..."
"Then tell me," Sci demanded, shaking one hand loose and grabbing the left sleeve of Strawberry's jacket, "I'm not going to-"
"p-please stop," Strawberry whispered, voice heavy with something only he knew. Sci backed down when he realized Strawberry was crying this time, the tears dripping slowly down his cheeks.
The scientist herded the Fell onto the couch before plopping down on the coffee table, "Strawberry, I didn't mean to make you cry. I just... want to know where you're hurt."
Strawberry's head fell and his shoulders slumped, "I think Boss might've cracked my arms. I know my leg is... in purty bad condition, upper an' lower. An' my chest hurts."
"Can I see?"
Shaky breathes puffed out as the sweater was shed, followed by the shirt. Strawberry's body looked like an old building, cracks and dents and graffiti craved into a structure that should be cleaner and stronger yet isn't. His sternum bore the latest of cracks, a spiderweb injury that branched out, with the center have a small hole punched out. The newest injuries on his arms looked like an attempt to crush the bone. Then, Strawberry pulled up the bottoms of his shorts; his fibula had an oblique fracture higher up so it hid under the shorts, while his femur had a long gash along the front, which had, at one point, bled but hadn't been cleaned or bandaged.
Sci felt sick at the sight before him, "wh-"
"don't ask, please. I don't wanna talk 'bout it."
The request was met with silence, and then he disappeared to get his first aid kit.