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yuckydraws · 5 months ago

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When The Past Comes Knocking

Characters: Swapfell! Sans, Swapfell! Papyrus, Mentioned OC

Word Count: 2590

(CW: addiction and it's effects, suicide, death, overdose, disordered eating, hate crime mentions, violence)

Sans sighs as he starts the dishwasher, leaning against the counter-island. The sound of bone rubbing together as he circles his right thumb around the tip of his middle and pointer finger (a nervous tick he’s never been able to shake) and the hum of the hot water filling said dishwasher is the only sound that fills the kitchen.

It’s much too quiet with Papyrus gone.

He’d have walked into some sort of prank by now, or would be stuck in a banter loop with no way out but to quite literally physically remove himself from the situation - and as annoyed as he used to get with his little brother, he’d give anything to have him resting his head at the bar of the kitchen sighing as though he was the one who worked so hard to get dinner ready.

Well. Almost anything.

It’s for the better that he’s gone, Sans drills into his skull. He couldn’t put up with the sneaking around, deceit, and aggression that Papyrus and his fiance’s addiction brought into the home.

He was supposed to have gotten better. When the barrier was broken - a miracle, truly - Sans finally gained a glimmer of hope. Perhaps his brother would finally ditch the pills. The moment monsters were given access to basic care, he all but begged him to go to rehab. Making it to the surface would’ve meant nothing if he was still having to worry for Papyrus’ life on a daily basis. He wouldn’t do it.

He couldn’t do it.

Sans was granted another miracle that day, because Papyrus agreed. And, for a few years, things were good. He got a steady job, fell into about as good of a routine as he could, and even fell in love with someone. Sans was able to focus on his own damn life for the first time in a long time. He helped Alphys form a recognized division of the Royal Guard on the surface, giving monsters somewhere to go when the human police force does little for them. He went out, made new connections and, dare he say, made new friends. A reality that seemed so far away when he was babysitting Papyrus as he vomited the night’s bad decisions away, or when he’d clean up his brother’s wounds after some tussle he got into during a bender, or when he’d have to break up said tussle before they killed each other.

He had a life outside of Papyrus.

Of course, his brother still lived with him, and his fiance eventually did too. They were a family, through and through. Family dinner was very much a staple, and they were all happy, for the most part. When they all happened to be home, the topic of conversation often found its way to the wedding.

The wedding. Sans scoffs. Yeah that feels like a lifetime ago.

His fiance was a good person. Marina, was her name. A water elemental who kept her head down underground, amidst the chaos and disorder that was all around them. She worked the farms, which were typically unanimously untouched given that people didn’t exactly want to starve on top of everything else. They were usually guarded as well.

She was quiet, but charming - and her loyalty knew no bounds. She was good for Papyrus. Kept his head on straight, gave him a consistent reason to stay on track, and even convinced his lazy, cheap-ass to cough up the money and effort for a wedding. A wedding. Monsters don’t even have those, but Marina always wanted one, and she was going to get one.

Sans really liked Marina.

But when Marina’s mother passed, her only living family left, something changed. The house was quieter. She was quieter. They both tried to support her in any way they could, and after a few months, all seemed well and good. Seemed, anyway. That’s when it started up again. The sneaking around, gone at odd hours, fluctuations in magic weight, mood swings…

But this time it was Marina.

By the time he noticed, it was too little too late. His brother was dragged back down to the lowest point in his life alongside her. Both refused help. Both insisted that they could stop whenever. That it’s just a little bit. Just enough to forget everything for a while.

He kicked them out. It was the hardest decision of his life, but he wouldn’t stick around this time. He wouldn’t be an enabler. He would, in no way have any contact with Papyrus or Marina unless they came to him ready for help, and committed to putting the work in to get better.

He has a life outside of Papyrus. His life will not come to a pause just because Papyrus’ did. Not again. Some might call him selfish, there’s days he thinks it, too, but his brother made his choice. And Sans has made his.

He drags his hand down his face, pausing to cover his mouth as he recalls the paperwork he was going to finish tonight. For the 4th Surface-Day anniversary. Crime rates against monsters always peaked around now.

Hopefully Papyrus is being safe in that regard, at least.

He pinches his nasal ridge. It’s going to be one of those nights, huh? Full of worry and regret. In the past, he’d have poured a glass of whiskey, let the slight buzz ease his erratic nerves and calm the anxious beat of his soul. But he joined Papyrus in his “sober journey” after he went to rehab, to support him. Despite its utter useless meaning now, he just can’t bring himself to break that promise he made to his brother. He tried, once, to buy a bottle, to have some sort of relief from the ache in his chest that never really leaves… it ended up down the drain. He just couldn’t do it. There’s still some stupid fucking part of him that holds onto the hope that one day, he’ll see his little brother at his doorstep, in tact and ready to recover.

He could be dead in a ditch and Sans would never know…

A growl leaves him as he tries his best to push those thoughts away. Pushing away from the counter, he stomps towards his home office - grabbing his work-bag on the way.

He has work to do.

***********************

Reported mugging, arson attempt on home, stabbing, murder of a family member… soon enough the words printed on the case files start to blur together, creating one giant conjumbled mess of shittiness.

Sans’ office chair creaks as he leans back, his glasses clatter against his desk as he tosses them carelessly. His mismatched eye-lights blearily take in the time from his computer screen before he throws an arm over his sockets. One o’clock in the morning. A deep sigh wracks his frame, his mind racing in a way that hints towards the lack of quality sleep he’ll get tonight.

A ring at the doorbell is the only thing that pulls him from his thoughts.

Peeking from under his arm, he confirms the time, frowning as it stares back at him, the same as the first time he had checked. Lumbering out from his office, he pulls up the camera feed of his front porch on his phone. With all the crimes against monsters that he’s repeatedly exposed to, he felt much safer with cameras installed on the perimeter of the home. They come in handy with late night (early morning?) visits like this.

Yet… Sans wonders if what he sees on the camera is really correct or not. It’s hard to tell with their hood up… but that almost looks like…

He cracks open the door, soul thudding against his ribcage.

Papyrus looks… worse for wear. His head is ducked, his hood covering a good chunk of his skull, but even that can’t hide the dark circles under his sockets. His eye-lights are barely illuminating his sockets, leaving them to almost blend in with those dark circles, making his sockets look like large sunken-in voids. His slouch is even more exaggerated than the last time Sans saw him. His hoodie is the same thing he was kicked out in. It was always baggy on him, but it looks like a tarp on him now. It’s ratty and torn, stains all over… and Sans can definitely tell he hasn’t showered in… a while. He doesn’t meet Sans’ gaze as he opens the door wider and leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed - pushing away all of his instincts as his older brother to usher him in and take care of him.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

“... i need help.”

“WHAT KIND OF HELP? MONEY? BECAUSE I WON’T HELP YOU THERE.”

Papyrus closes his sockets, a ragged sigh racking his frame.

“i want to get clean, sans.” His voice is weak, but his eye-lights finally meet Sans gaze.

He’s serious.

Sans uncrosses his arms, looking his little brother up and down before opening the door wider and turning to walk in, himself. As much of an invitation as he can muster, right now. This was not how he thought his night would go, and the shock of it is what he chooses to focus on. Not the hopefulness of potentially having his baby bro back. He’s been disappointed before. Or the relief that his brother is alive standing in front of him, because depending on how this conversation goes he might be right back in the dark soon. Sans reaches the kitchen before he hears his brother’s shuffling footsteps following him.

“HAVE A SEAT, PAPYRUS.” Sans orders, turning on the coffee maker.

It’s going to be a long night.

Papyrus plops onto the barstool in front of him at the island counter, like he always used to, but his usual chattiness and shit-disturber tendencies aren’t present tonight. One glance shows his hood covering his head as he slumps over the counter, hands in his lap, dim eye-lights staring blankly at the counter in front of him.

Sans tamps down that ache of guilt he feels in his soul.

“WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU ATE?”

“...”

“PAPYRUS?”

“huh? … oh, uh, i don’t know.”

“SO, A WHILE. GOT IT.”

The only sound in the kitchen is of Sans heating up food and the whirring of the coffee maker. Soon, a plate of leftovers and a mug of hot chocolate sits in front of Papyrus and Sans stands in front of him on the other side of the island, sipping his coffee.

Papyrus looks at the food in front of him, with what appears to be little appetite.

“IF THIS GOES WHERE I WOULD LIKE IT TO GO, THAT MIGHT BE YOUR LAST DECENT MEAL BEFORE HOSPITAL FOOD. SO, EAT.”

The younger skeleton huffs out a breath through his nasal cavity.

“yeah, that food was shit.” He agrees, reaching for the provided fork before his hand pauses. “... is that hot chocolate?”

“YES, I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN YOUR FAVORITE.”

That gets Papyrus teeth to quirk up slightly.

“thanks, sans.”

Sans just nods, lifting his own mug to his teeth as he watches Papyrus closely. His little brother slowly eats, hand with the fork shaking with every bite. Sans pretends not to notice the sound of Papyrus’ bones rattling. From hunger, cold, anxiety… withdrawals… Sans doesn’t really know which is causing it but it’s honestly likely a mix. He barely manages to finish the plate. Which is to be expected. Sans didn’t give him a large portion because of that.

He also takes note of Papyrus’ hand that he still leaves rested on his lap. The same one that was balled in a fist when he first opened the door.

Curious.

Sans, takes Papyrus’ plate, rinsing and placing it in the dishwasher numbly as he amps himself up for this conversation. The one he’s been hoping to have the second he kicked his little brother out. The one he’s had nightmares of ending badly, and dreams of ending in a reuniting of their odd little family.

Speaking of family…

Sans grips the side of the sink, taking a deep breath before squaring his shoulders and turning to meet his brother’s gaze.

“WHY?” He asks.

“why what?” Papyrus blinks, confused.

“WHY NOW?”

“... something happened.”

“THAT MADE YOU DECIDE…?”

“that i don’t want to fucking be like this anymore, sans.”

“LIKE WHAT?” Sans steps closer to the counter.

“like a fucking fuck up. a loser. a junkie. scum of the earth. whatever fucking term you want to use.”

“DON'T TALK ABOUT YOURSELF LIKE THAT. BUT, YOU’RE SURE? BECAUSE ONCE I LET YOU BACK INTO MY LIFE, I WON’T TOLERATE ANY SORT OF-”

“i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Papyrus hunches over the counter again, resting his head in his hands… one still in a fist.

“WHAT’S IN YOUR HAND?”

“...”

“PAPYRUS, YOU CAN PROVE TO ME YOU’RE SERIOUS RIGHT NOW. WHAT’S IN YOUR HAND?”

The rattling of his little brother’s bones grows louder as he shakes in his seat. But he doesn’t move or respond. Sans reaches over, Papyrus flinches away. Sans huffs, but moves a little slower, grasping Papyrus’ fist with both of his own hands. Gently prying his fingers open one finger at a time… he’s not sure what he expected but it certainly wasn’t the ring he helped Papyrus pick out for Marina years ago now. Frowning, Sans looks up at his brother to find tears falling from his sockets.

“... Papy? Where’s Marina?”

“... dead. she’s fucking dead, sans. and it’s my fault.”

Sans feels a jab in his soul. He’s spent this past year hating Marina, resenting her for dragging her brother back down to his old ways, but before all this shit happened… she was like a sister to him. And to Papyrus… she was everything.

“What-”

“we had to find a new dealer, 'e was some scummy looking human but we didn’t care. turns out we should’ve cause the shit was laced. i woke up and she didn’t and-” Papyrus sobs, “sans, she was dust when i woke up and if i had just listened to you, we could’ve helped her together but i wasn’t strong enough, i’ve never been strong enough that was always the fucking problem wasn’t it? underground, last year… even yesterday. i couldn’t handle it, i tried to- i tried to…”

Sans wastes no time, rounding the corner of the island and pulling his little brother into a hug. Papyrus collapses into him, hunching over to bury his face into Sans’ chest as he wails.

“i tried to follow her, b-but i couldn’t even do that right either. i’ve always been a failure, i don’t even blame you for kicking us out.” Sans shushes him, hand rubbing comforting circles on his overly-protruding spine. “i-i don’t know what to do sans. tell me what to do. i know i don’t deserve it but i need someone to tell me what to do and i don’t have anyone else. i don’t want to be like this, i don’t want to, i don’t want to. please, just tell me what to do, i don’t know what to do right now, i don’t-”

“It’s Okay Papy, We’ll Figure It Out. You Did The Right Thing Coming To Me. I’m Here, I’m Going To Help, And I’m Not Going Anywhere, Okay? We’ll Figure It Out.” Sans reassures, his voice much more firm and sure of itself than he feels right now - tears of his own escaping his sockets.

“We’ll Figure It Out.” He assures again, squeezing Papyrus as he cries.

Somehow.

#a look into Mal and Midas' past #before being sucked into the UT universe #Midas is probably the one of my guys that's the hardest to get involved with romantically #he'll typically shut that shit down real quick #cause look what happened to marina #his thoughts not mine #please pay attention to cw's when given #not responsible for your internet experience #yucky writes #yucky yaks #undertale #swapfell #sf sans #sf papyrus #mal #midas #angst #oneshot #drabbles

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