Hey Everyone!
Interference in bold, puns and memories in italics, magic is underlined.
-text- indicates either texts, or mental "talking".
All Undertale stuff owned by Toby Fox, else me or a reference.
You sneak a glance at the wrapper from your Nice Cream. It reads 'In all the infinite multiverse, there is no one quite like you'. You are not sure how to take this.
Papyrus
THE GREAT PAPYRUS WAS HUMMING QUIETLY TO HIMSELF AS HE MOVED A LOAD OF LAUNDRY INTO THE DRYER WHEN THE HOUSE SHOOK. HE CAREFULLY SET DOWN THE BLANKET HE HAD BEEN HOLDING, CLOSING THE DOOR AND STARTING THE CYCLE, BEFORE RUSHING UP THE STAIRS TO HIS BROTHER'S ROOM. THE IMPORTANT TASK OF LAUNDRY WAITED FOR NO MYSTERIOUS EXPLOSION!
HE PRESSED HIS SKULL TO THE DOOR, LISTENING CAREFULLY FOR THE GROANS OF HIS BROTHER...THERE DID NOT APPEAR TO BE ANYONE IN THE ROOM. HE STOOD BACK. PERHAPS HIS BROTHER WAS IN THE KITCHEN? HE DOVE OVER THE RAILING, ROLLING TO HIS FEET AND RUNNING THROUGH THE DOOR...THE KITCHEN WAS EMPTY AS WELL.
THE COOL GRANITE OF THE COUNTERTOP GROUNDED HIM AS HE SENT OUT A PULSE OF MAGIC. THE WEAK RESPONSE CAME...WAS SANS IN THE BASEMENT AGAIN? THE GREAT PAPYRUS WAS SURPRISED, AS HIS BROTHER WAS NOT USUALLY AWAKE AT THIS TIME OF THE MORNING, LET ALONE ACTIVE ENOUGH TO WORK ON HIS PROJECTS.
THE GREAT PAPYRUS RETRIEVED THE SPARE KEY FROM HIS BROTHER'S ROOM, NOTING WITH MILD DISTASTE THE UNMADE STATE OF HIS BROTHER'S BED. WHY SANS COULD NEVER BE BOTHERED TO UNBALL HIS COVERS WAS A MYSTERY...PERHAPS HER MAJESTY WOULD BE ABLE TO CONVINCE HIM OF THE IMPORTANCE OF CLEAN BEDSHEETS...HE WOULD ASK HER FOR THIS FAVOR WHEN HE AND SANS VISITED SILVER LATER THAT DAY.
THE DOOR TO THE BASEMENT HAD SMOKE COMING OUT FROM IT. HE, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WAS NOT WORRIED ABOUT THIS, FOR, AS A SKELETON, HE DID NOT NEED TO BREATHE. HIS BROTHER, HOWEVER, WAS IN THERE, AND THE FLARE HE HAD SENT HAD BEEN MUCH WEAKER THAN WAS USUAL FOR HIM...HE MAY HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS FACT IN THE EXCITEMENT OF THE EXPLOSION. CLEARLY HE WAS IN NEED OF RESCUE!
THE GREAT PAPYRUS FIDDLED WITH THE LOCK, TURNED THE HANDLE, FROWNED, FIDDLED WITH THE LOCK AGAIN, AND OPENED THE DOOR. EVEN WHEN HE WAS WORKING IN THERE FOR DAYS AT A TIME, SANS HAD NEVER LEFT THE BASEMENT DOOR UNLOCKED. THIS WAS A TROUBLESOME PUZZLE, BUT IT WOULD BE NO MATCH FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!
HE DESCENDED THE STAIRS, ALLOWING HIS MAGICAL VISION TO OVERLAY HIS PHYSICAL SIGHT ENOUGH TO NAVIGATE BY, AS HE WOULD IN SNOWSTORMS UNDERGROUND. THE SMOKE WAS...ODDLY SHIMMERING, AS IF IT WAS PARTIALLY COMPOSED OF MAGIC. THIS MADE IT MORE DIFFICULT TO WALK SAFELY, BUT HE WAS UP TO THE CHALLENGE!
AFTER SOME TIME FEELING AROUND IN THE CLOUDY ROOM, HE STUMBLED UPON A COLLAPSED LUMP OF FABRIC WHICH COULD ONLY BE HIS BROTHER. IT DID NOT REACT TO HIS RATHER UNGRACEFUL DISCOVER OF IT...HIS BROTHER MUST HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP AGAIN. HE SIGHED, AND SCOOPED UP THE SLUMBERING FIGURE. WHERE WOULD HIS BROTHER BE WITHOUT SOMEONE AS AWESOME AS PAPYRUS TO WATCH OUT FOR HIM?
AS HE JOGGED UP THE STAIRS, THE GREAT PAPYRUS COULD NOT HELP BUT NOTICE HOW LIGHT HIS BROTHER FELT...HOW ODDLY THIN THE RIBCAGE BENEATH HIS HOODIE WAS...THE UNFAMILIARITY WAS YET ANOTHER PIECE IN THE EVER-GROWING LIST OF CONUNDRUMS OF THIS MORNING'S PUZZLE.
THE BASEMENT DOOR HE LEFT OPEN, CERTAIN THE AIRING OUT WOULD DO HIS BROTHER'S WORKSHOP NO HARM. HE JOGGED OVER TO THE FRONT PORCH, UNLOCKING THE FRONT DOOR AND LEANING HIS SHOULDER AGAINST THE GREEN-PAINTED WOOD. HE SIDLED THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR, CAREFUL NOT TO JOSTLE HIS BROTHER ON THE FRAME. ACROSS THE RUG AND OVER TO THE JINGLING SOFA, HIS BROTHER'S SKULL ON ONE CUSHION AND…
HIS SLIPPERED FEET BARELY REACHED THE MIDDLE OF THE OTHER CUSHION...THE GREAT PAPYRUS FELT...WORRIED. SANS WAS ALWAYS STRETCHING OUT ON THE COUCH, SKULL PROPPED UP ON ONE ARM, SLIPPERED FEET KICKED UP ON THE OPPOSITE...HE WAS TOO SHORT. SOMETHING WAS WRONG…
THE GREAT PAPYRUS GAVE HIS BROTHER'S BODY A WORRIED EXAMINATION, NOTICING MORE AND MORE THINGS WHICH WERE JUST...WRONG. HIS TIBIA WAS THINNER THAN IT SHOULD BE, HIS FIBULA TWISTED BACK BEYOND THE ANGLE HER MAJESTY HAD MANAGED TO CORRECT IT TO, THE OLD PATCHES OF SCAR ACROSS HIS HUMERI FRESH AND RAGGED, HIS RADIUS AND ULNA ALMOST RECTANGULAR, HIS...HIS SKULL...HIS FRONTAL BONE WAS LOPSIDED, HIS SOCKETS MORE THAN A THIRD AS LARGE AS THEY SHOULD BE, HIS MANDIBLE CRACKED...
SANS LOOKED...YOUNGER...THE MANY YEARS OF PAPYRUS' AND HER MAJESTY'S HEALING...VANISHED, UNDONE...HE…
Toriel
The boysenberry pie slides into oven easily, for which I am grateful. I fear I may have overloaded this pie...I do hope Sans and Papyrus enjoy it. Had I recalled Papyrus' visit all those years ago, I would have been baking them such pies more often!
The gift my son gave to me last Giftmas was the assignment of personalised ringtones to all of our friends. Every time one of them calls, I cannot help but think of him, and how...how I missed him so! I dry a tear with my handkerchief as I answer Papyrus' call. His ringtone is so...jaunty, is it not?
"Greetings, Papyrus. I hope you-"
"YOUR MAJESTY, I MUST APOLOGIZE FOR INTERRUPTING YOU, BUT IT IS...SANS IS…"
My brows draw together, and I reach for a pad of paper as the poor skeleton hyperventilates into the phone, "Papyrus, please...Papyrus, calm down, will you not?" I write a note for my children, instructing them to check on the pie when the timer goes off, and to take it out of the oven when it is done, "Papyrus, I need you to do something for me...can you help me? I need to know where you two are," I frown, and add a postscript, explaining how to tell when it is that the pie has finished baking.
"WE...WE…" I make soothing noises through the phone, "WE ARE AT OUR HOUSE...PLEASE, YOUR MAJESTY, HURRY...PLEASE, I…"
"I am on my way now, Papyrus. Stay calm for me, will you not?" I snatch the strap of my bag from it's place on the front hall credenza and the keys which belong to our van from the bowl beside it; then I am out the door, claws clicking against the steps down to the garage.
I do hope this is not some prank of Sans'...he is so inventive, but his 'time-space shenanigans', as Papyrus puts it, have had...unintended consequences before...however, I do not...I...I would rather it be such an event than a true injury. I am certain, however, that whatever has occurred, one of us will be able to find a solution...we always do, do we not?
I am thankful for the early hour, as there are fewer cars between me and my destination in consequence. It is for the best that the two skeleton brothers live so close to our house...even now, it seems there is hardly a month to go by when I am not called over for some emergency, of one kind or another. I have rather gone accustomed to it, this caretaking of Frisk's friends...and now I have another reason to watch over these two SOULs, do I not? It is just as well that their godmother is so near.
Their driveway is empty...at least I do not have to worry that some error on Undyne's part is the cause of this panic. I cannot help but notice the smoke, mixing with magic, spiraling out from the back of the house. It is...unsettling...and...unfamiliar. Sans' magic is mixed with a kind I have never felt before...have I not? I...it does not matter. Through the open green door, I glimpse a worried skeleton pacing back and forth.
"Papyrus," He starts, bones rattling loudly, then holds himself still. It hurts me to see him do this...I take his gloved hand in my own, larger paw, and rub circles across the now quivering fabric. His eyes do not meet mine, too focused upon the figure...oh.
I kneel beside the...beside him, allowing my healing magic to soak into his bones, into his SOUL...the familiar mixture of magic that is Sans...it is gone. There is not even a whiff of my magic, and after all the...shenanigans he has gotten himself into, these past few years...there should be quite a bit. Papyrus' magic, which has always reminded me of garlic and parmesan...it is there, but there is far too little of it. His power has always been so much a part of Sans, and Sans' of him, that it is sometimes difficult to tell them apart...but now...now, Sans feels...like a starving pup, lost in the woods, bleeding and broken and calling out for a pack which is long gone.
I open my eyes, and breathe in, allowing the spell to dissipate. I...I do not believe I am capable of fixing this...I do not know where to begin. It is not as if he has sustained an injury...it is as if he has...as if every injury received, every modicum of healing, every second of growth...as if his time has been stripped away, every trace of it...vanished. It is…
I remember the magic that was mixed with Sans' in that smoke, or perhaps, a magic that could be it's...sibling? That seems closer to the truth. I have not felt anything like it for many years...monsters, after all, have never been as...religious as humans. When we created the Wishing Room, it was not entirely out of a longing for the sky. We...knew those creatures the humans called gods, once, a long time ago...so long ago I can hardly remember. They...many of Them...grew distant, in the long years before the War...and when it came...we prayed for MERCY, and the humans...prayed for victory.
...but nobody came.
I did not like that that feeling, the feel of Their magic, was mixed up in this. While humans were made of curiosity and determination, and monsters made of magic and compassion...They were made out of what we believed them to be...and for every good dream...there is a Nightmare...and it is always the nightmares which stay with us the longest, which affect us the most.
A groan from the small skeleton in front of me interrupts my thoughts...he is smaller than usual, is he not?...if I were not as worried about the...wounds, I would almost say he is adorable...he looks much the same as Asriel did when...when Chara fell. So small and...thin?...even for a skeleton, this...child-Sans seems far too thin. I am glad I chose to bake the pie...he will need it, will he not?
His sockets open, and...only...only the light in his left socket appears. It is like when he...when he showed Alphys and I...I shudder. No one should be so...nonchalant about...about sticking their own appendage into their skull! I...a shaking hand grabs my arm.
"hey old lady," I look down in surprise - the voice sounds like Sans, but it is far too high in pitch. The wink small Sans gives me assures me that it was, in fact, he who spoke. I suppose one with a smaller rib cage must have a voice that is higher in pitch...my arm is squeezed slightly, "knock knock."
"Who is there?"
"ivory," I frown. I have not heard this one before.
"Ivory who?" The small skeleton smiles up at me...the genuine smile he wears when telling a joke to someone he knows will appreciate it.
"ivory much would like to take a nap," I snort. Yes, that is most certainly Sans.
"BROTHER!" I am politely displaced by a rattling skeleton. The small skeleton is quickly wrapped in a hug. I stifle a giggle. They are too adorable, are they not?...the quiet sounds of snoring fill the room, "SANS, YOU LAZYBONES! DID YOU REALLY JUST FALL ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR IMPORTANT BROTHERLY BONDING HUG?"
I look closer, certain I will see Sans' familiar smirk...he is truly asleep. I frown. While he has often pretended to fall asleep to avoid uncomfortable situations or to annoy his brother, Sans has not fallen asleep that abruptly for years. I kneel beside the skeletons and reach out...his body is trying to heal itself, energy siphoning off at an alarming rate.
"Papyrus, I believe he has...whatever has happened has left your brother...very injured. His body and magic are trying to heal his wounds, but...well, his body currently has far too much damage to be healed easily...perhaps more than I can sense…" The poor skeleton monster is clearly trying very hard not allow his fear for his brother to wake the sleeping figure. I am uncertain as to why he is so frightened...ah. Sans has always been very weak, has he not? "I am certain he is merely resting - he is in no danger of Falling Down," the taller skeleton relaxes.
I am uncertain as to what course of action to undertake next. I am aware that I am out of my depth...but I am also aware that Sans has...a dislike of hospitals, especially as a patient himself. To take him there would be...unlikely to help matters. What to do?
Perhaps Doctor Alphys would be able to help? "Papyrus, you would not object if I were to ask Alphys to come and visit you, would you not?" The skeleton hesitates...then nods.