Chapter XIV
A place called home
'Whoa! That's so big!'
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The little skeleton is amazed by the old abandoned house. With his eyes filled with wonders, the kid is running throughout the whole piece. He opens every single door, looking for anything which could be new for him — which means, basically, everything. Sans stays near Grillby, watching Papyrus with a bright smile.
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'Well, you know… That's not that bad actually.'
'Eh, thank you. I'm glad you like it even though it's… hum… a little dilapidated.'
'Shouldn't be a problem. Not like if we were here to stay.'
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An air of sadness seems to briefly appear on the young monster's face, but Sans isn't sure. Why would he be sad? All Papyrus and he have brought him so far was an indescribable amount of… well… an indescribable mess. So why this look?
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Meh! Must have dreamed it.
Yep, seems legit.
I'll go with that.
Now, what Paps-
Oh hell no.
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'Paps! Get down of the… the… that thing! How did you even get there?!'
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Wait… Is that made of bones?
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'No! Now I'm the Great Papyrus, king of this home!'
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And thus, between Grillby's muffled laugh and the dust of the old house, Sans tries to get the little skeleton back on the ground. Which isn't really successful since the aforesaid monster actually stands on a bone tower of his own making. That, and the fact Sans is definitely not going to climb up there to get him.
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oOo
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Almost two hours later, and with Papyrus back on the ground, the old building has finally regained some character. Cleared from all its dust, the main room now shows a great space. Stairs seem to awaken in the corner, their steps squeaking under Grillby's weight, leading to a small mezzanine where the other teenager stands. With his elbow resting on the guard rail, Sans is gazing at the empty room below. The wallpaper of a faded orange appears like an outrageous recall of a past he wants to forget. The shadow of a hovel lost in the depths of a town wraps the house. Smells of alcohol intoxicate the air he is breathing. He needs to get out, he can't stay here to be the victim of his spirits once again. He is at the door, the urge is becoming unbearable. Need to flee. Need to be safe. Fear of what will happen.
A breath.
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It smells of whiskey. He retches, but his throat is dried. In front of him, he stands. His body shattered on the old chair, bottle in hand, and a look of fatigue in the eyes. Those dead eyes are looking at him, sending shivers down his spine.
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"Why didn't you open the door?"
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The stiff body stands above him with a threatening air. And, suddenly, there's a voice.
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"Enough drinking for today!"
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And he can see himself tearing the bottle away from his father, putting it in a place out of reach. The other wants it back, its face is twisting in anger. He raises his voice, shouts, yells. All his son needs is patience. So, he simply ignores the screams and walks to the door.
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"I'll get something edible."
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And close it. And run out of this nightmare.
But there's nowhere to run.
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'Sans! Wake up!'
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The youngster hardly opens his eyes, still standing at the guard rail. Grillby looks at him, worried. He sighs, fakes a smile.
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'Guess it's been a rough day!'
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Why would he ever think of going back there? There's nothing waiting for him. He must have forgotten him by now, like all the rest… But still, he wants to go back somehow. Even if there might be absolutely no reason. Even if he might as well forget about it. Even if this might be the stupidest thing ever.
He wishes he could go back there. Even if only for a minute. Just to say goodbye.
I'm still wondering if I should use Sans's real name... I know what it is but, still, I think it would be weird. And, in a way, not using it helps to set all of this in the past. So... I need to see what I wanna do with this actually-a-bit-important detail.
