The best people always come too late.
At least that was what Susie came to know. It started with her father, tossing a few sweaty dollar bills to the foster home before leaving her to go off and have his way with a whole building of women more beautiful than Susie's own mother. It then came to little Grace Hopkins, feared by the bullies but was out of sight when the same bullies descended on Susie.
From the bushes came a startling crinkle, as if the leaves were nothing but tissue paper, then a roaring rip as he came out. Him. Too small for the bush to stop from enveloping him. Him. He who had nothing to hide inside of him, who had built something so strong with Lancer, so strong, Susie-strong, but placed one weakness in its core. He'd attacked it, toppled the tower- no, built the tower Lancer was now bleeding in front of.
Him.
There was no one to stop Susie now. No one but the ground as it stopped Susie from pushing Sans down any further. No one but Ralsei, making a half-hearted conglomeration of tugs and pleas to stop. No one but Kris, who stayed motionless, staring at a faraway world, a world of his very own, a world that seemed to be controlling him.
"You- fucker- you- you-"
She was nothing now. She wanted to become something. Did she deserve to become the warrior she was before? Perhaps not, but she still wanted to become something. She didn't deserve her axe. She could only punch, punch with every curse that streamed out of her lips. She was nothing. She was nothing. Still nothing, until-
Susie didn't realize how much of her punches, how much of her frenzy, was redirected until she realized that Sans was looking straight down at the floor. Unmoving. Warmth was trickling down his arm, down his legs, down his mouth, even a little in his torso. He did nothing but wipe his mouth so as to keep his dignity.
Susie was crying. But she didn't care. She couldn't afford to, not with the guards fleeing them, yet encircling them, coming fast. She couldn't afford to when the King, the son of a bitch he was, was still cowering inside the castle. She couldn't afford to, not with the world still revolving around her.
Ralsei was pushing, almost shoving Kris, whispering in a mother's dove-coo for him to move, to say something, to ensure he was alive. But still he stood. A statue in one of the King's gardens. A veritable pygmalion.
Susie still hid. Still caring. She tried feigning a hurt eye, but one glance from Ralsei lashed her bull to a growling halt.
She looked at him. Him. What a little piece of shit he was. But he still needed to understand her. Just once. Once was enough. She was a little piece of shit herself, but all she needed was understanding. All that she ever needed was understanding, really.
"Sans?"
There was no noise, not when the noisiest one was kept quiet.
"What 'son of God' do you even think you are?"
The wind blew its musty ichor; it was raining. It became a shadow, started dripping, dribbling, atop of Sans' hoodie, than Ralsei, who did his best to wipe it off of his glasses, then to ever-unmoving Kris, then to Lancer, then to the castle, and beyond it all…
Lancer had always hated the rain. It made it too muddy to take Steed out for a ride. But he said nothing.
The only other sound was the wind echoing, leaching out a song from Sans' bones. Whistling, whistling… can you hear the whistle… can you hear it….