Quiet Houses
Chapter 2: Quiet Houses
Sans never wanted to hear the sounds of a silent household again.
Especially not after last time. He had spent so many countless hours, bottles littering the floor as he lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling and contemplating. He had gotten to the point where he couldn't even cry about it anymore. What was the point when it would all inevitably be reset, anyway? Having Papyrus back was just nice all on its own.
Having the anomaly in his home was significantly less so.
It was so utterly quiet that Sans felt a chill run up his spine. Papyrus was never this wordless, certainly not when he was making breakfast. There was almost the constant noisy clatter of pots and pans and other cooking implements as he savagely attacked his challenge, but this time he just seemed… quiet. It was unsettling. He sipped at his coffee that had been overloaded with far too much sugar, staring across the table at the anomaly. They didn't touch their drink, and they kept folding their fingers together like they were trying to hold their own hand. They pulled habitually at their sleeves for some reason, and Sans watched them the entire time. He felt so tired, but he couldn't take his eye sockets off of them for even a moment. It was all such an obvious trap, they were going to stab them the first chance that they got. Sans shot them a dirty look while Papyrus's back was turned, switching back to a friendly grin the moment that he turned back around.
"… Pancakes?" Sans asked in slight confusion. "Not, uh… breakfast spaghetti?"
"Well, Sans, I know how much you love my breakfast spaghetti," Papyrus said lowly. "But I figured that it was a special occasion. Here you go, tiny human!" he said in a much more chipper tone, placing a stack of pancakes before the anomaly along with a bottle of syrup. They stared up at the skeleton cautiously, as if expecting him to pull it away at the last moment.
"… Well, go on!" Papyrus gestured to the nervous human as he sat between the two at the table, carving into his own helping of pancakes. "You know little one, I was thinking about showing you around Snowdin later. I know that we don't have very much, but there's plenty of room to run about outside of Snowdin if you'd like, I even have some fun puzzles set up for later! Are… are you alright?"
Frisk wiped their eyes with their sleeve suddenly, and it took Sans a moment to realize that he had been staring into his coffee. They nodded and swallowed, hair falling into their eyes.
"It's very good," they said softly. "T-thank you so much, Papyrus."
"Nyeh, don't worry about it. Save some room for extra though, we can have some popcorn later! Say," Papyrus said after a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I normally reserve pancakes for special occasions, and meeting you today was certainly special. We also have them for parties, birthdays - say, tiny human Frisk?" he clicked his fingers as if he had just thought of something. "That reminds me, when is your birthday?"
"I-I don't have a birthday…" Frisk mumbled, not meeting his gaze.
"What?" Papyrus scoffed. "Oh, come now. Everybody has a birthday. Even Sans and I have a birthday, it's on the same day! If you don't have a birthday, how can you tell how old you are?"
"O-oh," Frisk blinked, counting on their hands for a moment before holding up their fingers. "Um. I'm-I'm ten."
Sans very firmly, very pointedly tried not to think about how he had brutally murdered a ten year old over two dozen times.
He was failing.
"T-ten, huh?" Sans tried to give a relaxed grin, leaning back in his chair and swirling his coffee around. "Man, kid. Were your parents dinosaurs? You're practically ancient."
Even though he was trying to joke, the stabbing guilt rising in his chest wouldn't die down no matter how furiously he tried to kick it away. He shouldn't be feeling guilty. He did what he had to do. But that wasn't really true, and he knew it. He had done far worse than just kill them a couple of times. It was growing harder and harder to look at them and he returned his gaze to his drink, his mind feeling heavy.
"Well…" Papyrus mused aloud after a few moments of silence, standing and taking the plates to drop them into the sink. "Why not today?"
Frisk blinked up at him.
"… Today what?"
"Since you don't seem to have a birthday," Papyrus stood before them with his hands on his hips. "Why not today? Or if you're not happy with that, why not a 'glad I met you human Frisk' day? That way you can keep track of how old you are and how long we've been friends! Nyeh heh heh."
Sans froze up when the anomaly darted forward in their chair, his magic prickling up instinctively to stop them, but he paused when he saw that they were hugging Papyrus tightly around the middle, trembling furiously.
"… That s-sounds wonderful," Frisk said in a wavering voice. Papyrus only softly petted them on the head, his expression surprisingly pained for a moment. It was gone the next second that Sans tried to inspect it though. Maybe he had just imagined it. Too much stress, too much reliance on magic could make one see things. Sans had more experience with that than he would ever care to share. Papyrus picked up the shaking child and held them close to his chest, and Frisk appeared to be giving him the strongest little hug that they could manage. He kept an eye socket on the little freak nonetheless. They were a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off, he couldn't afford to tear his sight away from them for even a moment. Didn't Papyrus get it? Couldn't he just see past the stupid waterworks and see them for what they were? But on the other hand, they hadn't necessarily done anything wrong this time…
But that didn't mean they weren't still planning on stabbing them all in the back the first chance that they got.
"… Why don't we save exploring Snowdin for later?" Papyrus said quietly, pulling away and helping them to the floor. "How about you
go pick out a movie for us all to watch, little one? I'll make some popcorn for everyone, we'll just have a day inside. How does that sound?"
Frisk (anomaly, human, freak, doesn't need a name) only nodded with a little smile, scampering off to the living room.
"Man, when did you get so good with kids Papyr- Paps?" Sans's words caught in his throat as he glanced over at his brother. The taller skeleton who normally exuded positivity and cheerfulness like a lamp radiates light had… darkened. The lights in his eye sockets were dim, his face was weary and heavy, his shoulders were slumped, and he looked more exhausted than Sans had ever seen him. In short, it was downright disturbing on every level. Papyrus wiped a hand down his face and gave a weak grin, but it was too late. Sans had seen through the veil, and very deeply wished that he hadn't. Papyrus only leaned toward him, ensuring out of the corner of his eye socket that Frisk was out of earshot.
"You need to take a look at their arms."
Sans reeled, uncertainty hitting him in waves. What was he on about? Papyrus was never like this, and it was upsetting in a way that Sans didn't even know that he could be bothered. Papyrus was back to his normal boisterous self within moments however when he saw Frisk (anomaly, anomaly) standing in the kitchen doorway, holding up a little box.
"Oh, good, Mettaton Vs. Space Dragons," Papyrus beamed down at them. "That one's a classic! I've got the popcorn going, why don't you help me set up the movie?"
Papyrus held out his hand for them and they hesitated, looking at him with worry.
"I… I'm sorry-" they started again, but Papyrus only shook his head with a small smile. They ever so tentatively took his hand, letting him lead them to the couch. Sans finished off his coffee and slipped in behind them, dropping onto one end of the couch while Papyrus sat on the other, Frisk between them both. They were clearly trying to avoid Sans's constant gaze, and it was painfully apparent that they were still afraid of him. That was a good thing. He much preferred that they be afraid of him. If they were too scared to try anything stupid, maybe they would stay on the straight and narrow for a little while. It was all so inevitable, really. He couldn't quite shake off the feeling of guilt, though. Frisk reached over to Papyrus's lap and munched on popcorn almost silently, and Sans sighed as the movie rolled.
"… Hey, kid," Sans shrugged internally. Maybe he really had started off on the wrong foot. "You sure you wanna watch this movie? It's about the same as all of Mettaton's other movies. And by that I mean
it's terrible."
"Sans!" Papyrus chastised him. "How can you say something like that?"
"With my mouth," he pointed to his smirk. He heard a light titter before he realized that it was coming from Frisk. He had heard them laugh before. Only once. But that cruel, high pitched mocking laughter that echoed down the Judgment Hall had sounded so… different, from how they were giggling now. Almost like they were a completely different person or something. It bothered him more than he was willing to acknowledge.
"Don't listen to him, little one," Papyrus let out an annoyed grunt. "The only thing that even comes out of that mouth of his is a torrent of bad puns."
"And the tongue," Sans winked. "Don't forget the tongue."
"… You have a tongue?" Frisk stared at him quietly.
"Uh. Yeah?" he blinked, opening his mouth to reveal his canines and letting his dimly glowing magical tongue slip out over his teeth. Their eyes widened significantly and they lurched back into Papyrus, their shoulders shaking a little. "What? Don't you have a tongue, kid?"
Frisk just mumbled something, their cheeks heated as they turned away with that expression that he couldn't identify.
"He's only messing with you," Papyrus rubbed the top of their head softly.
"Is… is your tongue blue, too?" they looked up at the taller skeleton with a curious glance.
"Why would it be blue?" he gawked at them. After a moment he stuck out his tongue a little, letting the dim orange glow illuminate his features and making a bleh noise with a silly scrunched up face. Frisk giggled and shook their head. Sans felt a little lighter just hearing them laugh. He knew deep down that it couldn't last though. It was only a matter of time before they snapped and he would be kneeling over his brother's dust all over again.
"Hey, kid. You know the difference between popcorn and pea soup?"
Frisk only stared at him.
"You can pop corn but you can't pea soup."
Frisk covered their smile with shaking hands, looking torn between laughing and bolting like a frightened rabbit.
"How can skeletons make funny faces?" Frisk kicked their little legs as they stared up at Papyrus, and it was clear that nobody was really interested in the movie. "Or have tongues?"
"Magic?" Papyrus blinked. "Doesn't yours glow?"
Frisk just shook out their head, hair falling in their eyes. They smiled up at Papyrus and turned with their back to Sans, and they must have done something because all of the color and energy just… drained from Papyrus. It was like Frisk (human, anomaly, freak, don't identify it, don't get too close) had leeched the life right out of his brother, and he started to reach out for him when Papyrus seemed to snap right back into the swing of everything, smiling kindly and patting them on the head.
"Can… can we just watch the movie?" Papyrus asked in an almost pleading tone, far, far too quiet to be normal. "It's-it's really not that bad. Let's just settle down for a while. Oh, here comes the good part where one of the camera guys falls into the set. Best fourth wall break in the movie. Mettaton sure is talented at writing movie scripts!"
The window shades were drawn and it was fairly dark inside. The 'movie' dragged on for hours and hours, and every so often the camera would start slipping away from the rectangular actor with petals falling around him. He couldn't blame the poor camera guy for falling asleep, Sans was about to do the same. He desperately wanted to rest, but he couldn't allow himself to close his weary eye sockets. He had to keep an eye on the human, had to ensure that Papyrus was safe. Frisk's eyes fell and dropped and they leaned toward Papyrus every now and then, but every time that they touched him they flinched hard and tried to sit up straight. They had a small blanket over their lap and after the sixth time that they started to fall asleep only to jerk themselves awake Papyrus gently started petting their head. They flinched again at the contact, but he didn't pull away. Eventually Frisk began snoozing quietly as they leaned against him, one hand in their lap and the other clenching and unclenching at nothing as they slept. Sans wanted to fall asleep too, but he caught the look that Papyrus was giving him, nodding inconspicuously toward the human. Sans felt a small surge of anger. Papyrus was never this subtle. It was just one more way that the anomaly had ripped away any remaining semblance of normalcy in his life, and even when everything reset he would still remember how his brother had changed. He eventually shook off his anger though, Papyrus's words ringing in his head.
He carefully, gently peeled up the sleeve of the human's shirt, unable to see much of what Papyrus wanted him to see. The sleeve of their striped jumper rose a bit more as he inspected their arm, uncertainty filling his head. He sincerely wished that he hadn't seen anything at all. Their wrists were scarred and cut in strange little patterns, and he couldn't determine whether or not they were self inflicted. Rows of little circular burns on their arms in random places showed dimly in what light there was, and Sans felt a little sick. He could spot what might have been rope burns on their wrists, and the more he stared the more it occurred to him that maybe not all of these jagged, painful looking marks were done by themselves. He glanced up at Papyrus, but the taller skeleton only shook his head with a frown, motioning for him to turn their arm over. Sans didn't necessarily want to, just looking at the injuries was bad enough. But he turned their arm over slowly anyway so as not to wake them.
He genuinely wished that he hadn't.
Track marks.
There were track marks from needles running all up their arm, placed too finely, too perfectly aligned to be done by anyone other than a professional. Sans's hand found its way to his mouth and he ground his teeth, his mind whirring in a tornado of anger, confusion, disgust and uncertainty. He slowly rolled their sleeve back down to cover their… marks, but it was already too late. He had seen something that was probably going to haunt him for a while. Not like he needed more nightmares. He couldn't bring himself to speak, and eventually realized that he wasn't even breathing. Sans glanced up to see Papyrus nodding gently to the kitchen, and Sans bowed his head once in silent agreement. He slipped off the couch and Papyrus ever so slowly, carefully, gently pulled away from the human to let them sleep. After a moment he leaned over them and tucked them in with their small blanket, giving their head a few soft strokes before following his brother into the kitchen.
"Shit," Sans muttered, running a hand over his sweaty head. "Shit, shit, shit, shit."
"We really do need to implement that swear jar," Papyrus leaned against the door frame, rubbing his wrists awkwardly. "But, yes. I do agree. Shit."
"What happened?" he breathed heavily, feeling strongly like being ill.
"Some-somebody… oh god. Oh, god, Paps, some-somebody hurt
this kid."
Maybe even more than he did.
"Who would do something like this, Sans?" Papyrus asked with a frown, glancing over his shoulder at the darkened living room with the dancing shadows cast by the television. "Just… why? Why would-would someone harm a-a child?"
Plenty of reasons, he thought grimly to himself, but didn't dare speak it aloud. Instead his brows furrowed as he began to pace, he was feeling too tired, too unnerved, too sick, too disturbed. How long had the kid been like that? Why would anyone do something like that to somebody, let alone a little kid? What in the hell was going on in his life anymore? He had so many questions, and no answers to be found, and it was absolutely maddening.
"… We gotta do somethin' about this," Sans began carefully. He didn't want Papyrus to get the wrong idea. He could probably just tell him that he would walk them to somewhere safer, and dump the body when he got the chance. Maybe that bottomless pit in Waterfall would work. If there really was no bottom then it would be a long time before they died, which meant that he could actually have some peace and quiet before another reset occurred. For some reason just thinking about that made him feel physically ill. Why would he even care? That thing was a freak. A brother murdering, monster crushing, soul shattering anomaly. And no matter how many times he repeated that to himself, he still couldn't shake the feeling that maybe the garbage was where he really belonged.
"We can't take them to Undyne," Papyrus said after a minute, running a gloved hand down his face with a sigh. "I mean, I-I know that any humans we capture are supposed to be taken to her, butbut the little one, I… I'm worried, Sans," he continued softly, not meeting his gaze and instead staring at his boots. "They're… they're so thin. Are human children supposed to be that scrawny? And I mean, did you see the way that they eat? They scarfed down food like I was going to snatch it away from them or something! Whatwhatever happened to that poor child, I cannot even…"
Papyrus took a long, slow, deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nostril bone, eye sockets flaring with a quiet but fiery anger. It was gone within a moment though, and Sans really had to wonder if he had even seen it at all.
"Whoever… did that, to a child?" Papyrus seethed with hidden fury. "I want to believe that everyone can be a good person. I really, really do. But… but things like-like this?" he cast an arm back to the living room, his wavering voice rising no matter how hard he tried to keep it down. "It… it hurts. It makes me start to wonder, to really doubt that everyone can be a good person, Sans. And it hurts. God, Sans. It hurts so much."
Even when they weren't killing everyone in sight, they were still hurting his brother.
Sans's fists clenched and unclenched as he turned away, stuffing his hands into his pockets and trying not to let his absolutely boiling rage scorching his bones be revealed to his brother. He took a few breaths, pacing around the kitchen as Papyrus stared. What was their plan? Was this all just some game that they were playing with them? What in the actual hell had that kid been through? There were so many variables unaccounted for. Too many questions without answers. Before it had been the flower with the power to reset the world, he had studied it so many times that he could clearly recall every petal from memory. It made it difficult to do when he had to keep pretending that he didn't know about the resets. That thing had caused so much trouble, so many times. But ever since the kid came, the flower had made itself scarce, and whenever the anomaly died the world would reset. Did the kid and the flower have that much in common? Were they in leagues with each other? Did they both have the same power? Were they just messing with them out of boredom or something? He wouldn't put it past them. Humans tended to get bored easily. But Frisk (anomaly, freak, dirty brother killer, don't give it a name) had told him that they didn't have complete control over the timelines. Could he even trust that they were telling the truth? That if they died they had no choice but to reset?
And if they ever relapsed…
Well.
He could always force a reset to occur…
There again was that unpleasant guilty feeling that made his soul itch.
"We… we gotta do somethin'," Sans rubbed the back of his head eventually. And by 'something' he meant dump them off for someone else to take care of, Sans couldn't handle this right now, he was way too sober.
"We can't just throw them out," Papyrus said pleadingly, rubbing his hands together nervously. "We-we just can't, Sans. I… I really don't think they'll make it very far."
"You'd be surprised," Sans grumbled under his breath before shaking his head and clearing his throat. "I… I dunno, Paps. I don't know if we can-"
"Let me rephrase that," he found a firm purchase on the door frame, fist clenching so tightly that he could have sworn that he was starting to hear wood splinter. "I am not throwing them out, they are hurt and they need help, and by god I am going to help Sans!" he was steadily growing louder and shaking, his free hand jittering hard. "They need our help, they were hurt and they're-they're just a child!"
"Alright, alright!" Sans held up his hands defensively. "J-Jeeze, bro.
You… you don't hafta shout. Wasn't… wasn't gonna suggest throwin' 'em out into the snow," he lied with a small forced smile. "I mean, I'm not that… cold hearted."
"… Sans, are you really making puns right now."
"It's a coping mechanism, bite me. I'm an ice hole sometimes."
"Sans, oh my god," Papyrus rubbed a hand down his face, but he could still see the little grin on his brother's face. Sans was kind of surprised to see that there really was a new hand mark on the door frame, but he ignored it. "Seriously, your puns are just the worst."
"Ayy, gimme a break, bro. Don't gimme the cold shoulder."
"Sans I swear to god I will disown you."
"Snow problem, bro."
"One of us was adopted, I just know it."
"How could you be so cold to me, bro?" Sans grinned up at him expectantly.
"There is snow way you could have any more cold puns," Papyrus deadpanned. Then he facepalmed himself with a quiet groan, making Sans snicker somewhat proudly.
"Icy what you did there," he winked at him, and Papyrus only shook his head, but he still smiled regardless.
"You really are a terrible influence, you know that?" Papyrus sighed and rubbed his weary eye sockets. They simply stood there for a while in silence, listening to the dim sounds of the television in the next room.
"… We need to form a plan of action," Papyrus said after a moment, pounding his fist into his hand.
"What would you suggest? I'm all ears," Sans grinned at him, but cringed a little from the look that his brother gave him. "Uh. That last one really wasn't on purpose."
"We can't just hand them over to Undyne," he rubbed his chin with one hand.
"Yeah," Sans nodded once. "Doing that would be pretty much outta the question. Probably wouldn't end too well. You, uh, know how she is about humans."
"Maybe we could… I-I don't know…" Papyrus tapped his fingers together awkwardly. "Maybe… k-keep them?"
"You mean like-?"
"Not like a pet," Papyrus frowned hard, and Sans had to fight back the urge to tell his brother that things like that deserved to be on a leash. He wondered what they would look like with a leash momentarily, but brushed the thought from his worried mind. "They're… they're just… just hurt, Sans. They talked about hurting others, and-and I… I know that they haven't done anything wrong. I think. And I also think I know why they might have done that. They're just hurt, and scared, and maybe lashing out is the only way that they know how to respond. Someone must have done something terrible to them to make them want to do such awful things. I can save them from going down that path. I know I can. Everyone can be a good person if they just try. I have to help them, Sans. I have to."
Sans stood in stunned silence. He ran a hand over his head again with a heavy sigh, closing his eye sockets for a moment before sticking his hands back in his pockets.
"I'm… I'm gonna go to Grillby's," he said quietly. "You… you want anything?"
"I'm fine, Sans," he shook his head. "Just… come back somewhat sober? Please?"
It ached, it hurt the way that his brother looked at him, and San cringed inwardly knowing that he had absolutely no such intention.
"Y-yeah," he nodded after a moment, swallowing dryly. "Yeah. Sure thing, Paps. Just, uh… c-call me. As soon as they wake up. Send me a message or something, as soon as they start movin'."
"I'll have the phone ready…" he answered after a few seconds.
"I won't even be gone that long," he tried to say nonchalantly.
"Probably be back before the movie is even over, just gotta talk to Grillbz about a few things is all."
"I won't take my eye sockets off of them," Papyrus nodded firmly. Sans thanked him quietly and slipped out the front door, throwing one last look at the human sleeping on their couch. Papyrus was left in absolute quiet as he settled back down onto the couch, sighing heavily. After a while he leaned back into the couch and flipped the television off, letting the darkness swarm over him. He could have sworn that he felt eyes on him, but there was nobody there. He only patted Frisk softly on the head, closing his eye sockets and just staying like that for a while.
Papyrus never wanted to hear the sound of a quiet household ever again.