Saying Goodbye
Toriel sat in her usual place at the side of your bed, a book laying open in her lap. You had asked to be allowed to stay at home, and the doctor had agreed to your request, coming through every few days to check on your condition. He had told them all what to expect as more time passed and your body slowly began to fail. Even with the warnings, none of them were ready for it.
Her eyes drifted to the blue hoodie that was draped over your legs, one bony hand clenching the hood as though it was the only thing that kept you tethered to the world. She had cleaned the apartment to a spotless sheen, not saying anything about the abandoned dishes and piles of unfolded clothes and discarded mail. She didn't blame Sans for letting things fall by the wayside, though she wished he had told her sooner that things were this bad for him. She looked at your face, trying to match the face on the pillows with the smiling face that she had grown to love since she had met you in the ruins. You lips were a bruised purple now, your eyes sunken above hollow cheeks, blue veins standing starkly under papery skin.
When you let out a dry gasp, she retrieved a soft sponge that was attached to a stick and gently swabbed the inside of your mouth, jumping slightly when your jaws closed instinctively down on it. She knew it would happen, but it always gave her a bit of a start anyway. Careful of your lips, she used one claw to pull your teeth apart, cooing sweet words as she did.
She smiled when one eye opened slowly and focused on her. You always had such beautiful eyes. When you released the sponge and stick, she wondered if there would be any words today. Sometimes you went days without saying anything, others you would speak in disjointed sentences. Her careful hands rearranged the blankets and shifted you slightly up in the bed.
"Are you awake, my child?"
Your eyes followed her movements, and you made a strangled croaking sound and moved your lips, trying to talk. She wetted another sponge and swabbed your mouth again, this time leaning you up so you could try to swallow any water that was left behind.
"Awake."
It was not much, but it was something. Your eyes lowered to the jacket that you held, then scanned the room.
"Where?"
"Sans is downstairs, dear. I told him to get something to eat. Do you want anything?"
"Ice."
She nodded and rose, being sure to prop you up on the pillows before stepping toward the bedroom door. Her feet were quiet on the thick carpet, always a feat for a creature of her stature.
Downstairs, she found Sans sitting in the little kitchen, spinning a cup lazily on the table. His eyes were dark as he looked up at Toriel, watching her intently as she moved around him to the freezer. He didn't talk very much anymore. They all wondered when he would be able to tell his silly jokes again.
"More ice? I would think that she would want more than that..."
She shrugged as she popped a few cubes loose and put them in a plastic bag, securing them carefully before reaching for the wooden spoon. She brought the tool down hard, a loud crack coming from the ice. She smashed it a few more times, not noticing Sans wince with every strike. She felt tears stinging her eyes as she poured the shards into a clean cup, hoping you were still awake when she got upstairs.
"Sans, will you take this to her? I want to call Asgore and tell him that I will be home tonight."
"Sure. Not tonight, then?"
She handed him the cup.
"I don't think so. You will tell me if anything changes?"
Sans nodded and walked to the stairs, his head still hanging. He had not been sleeping. She knew he was tired, just like her.
"Get some sleep Sans. Please."
"Alright. Thanks Tori."
He walked up the small set of stairs and opened the door quietly. Everything was quiet here now. When you had been better, there was always something happening. Music was playing, the television was on, the washer and drier were going. You hated silence. It made you uncomfortable. The first two weeks you lived together had driven him nuts when you always had the fan in the bedroom on. He was not used to sleeping with sounds, now he was finding it hard to sleep without them.
He managed to get a few spoonfuls of ice down you before you started to shake your head. With a shrug, he put the cup down. When you were done, you were done. He decided he would try to sleep a little and turned on the fan. He crept up onto the bed beside you, his hand resting on your wrist. You shifted a little in your sleep, and he rested his forehead against your shoulder, hoping that his sleep would be dreamless.
Hoping that when he woke up, you would still be there.
AN: Hello to all. I look forward to finishing this off tomorrow, with any luck. I love your feedback, so please, if you have something to say, please send it my way. I hope you all have a good day