#lv treated as a terminal illness

[itsladykit]

Summary: Cash isn’t sure how to handle this.

Content warning: smoking, vague references to suicide, high LV treated as a terminal illness, references to past abuse, feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, references to depression, past genocide run.

Notes: This chapter is mainly set up for the TwistedPuppyMoney, so if you’re avoiding that, then feel free to skip this chapter. I’d also like to say thank you @rainoverthemountains​--your fic definitely inspired me to write this chapter. ^_^ 

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Cash sat beside Blackberry on the couch, ignoring the glare the smaller monster shot him. He was too busy watching Twist without making it obvious he was watching him. Dried magic crusted his cheekbone and his cracked socket. Cash raised a brow-bone, daring a quick glance at Blackberry. It was obvious he’d been crying—his cheekbones were stained and his features were still flushed.

He hadn’t heard much, only what Twist had practically shouted at his brother. (“—you ain’t gonna throw that in my face jus’ ta chase down a fuckin’ Spider—“) Cash tried to remember the last time he’d heard Twist raise his voice in anger, but he came up blank. Something had happened. Something was wrong.

He swallowed, jawbone ticking. This wasn’t his problem. He didn’t even like the Twistfell brothers—

(Standing in the cold, empty Judgement Hall. Surrounded by nothing but dust and bad memories. A hand on his shoulder. Turning, his eyelight blazing…only to be met with a smile. “Heya, Patches! Been lookin’ all over fer ya. Whatcha doin’ down ‘ere, huh? C’mon—why don’ ya come home with me, yeah?” An arm slung over his shoulders, guiding him away. Not resisting. Not caring enough to bother trying to fight him off.)

—so why was his soul so agitated? He pulled out one of his cigarillos, but before he could light it, Blackberry snapped, “If you’re going to smoke, then do it outside.”

He nearly smiled, his soul loosening a little. “gladly.”

Out on the porch, he lit his cigarillo, watching the empty street as he leaned against the wall. He shut his sockets, imagining Twist and Blackberry talking about him, imagining Blackberry reminding Twist that Cash was originally only supposed to stay with them for a few days. Days had morphed into weeks and months. Soon enough, they had to get tired of him. They had to kick him out. Remind him he wasn’t welcome. Remind him he wasn’t wanted.

And then he could go back to not caring. About them. About himself. About anything.

The front door opened and Twist stepped out on the porch. Rather than joining Cash at the wall, he sat on the steps and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He turned it over in his hands, the cellophane crinkling. Then he broke the seal and pulled out his lighter. The smell of cheap tobacco made Cash wrinkle his nasal ridge.

“i thought you quit.”

Twist stretched out his legs and tilted his head back, breathing out a long stream of smoke. “Yeah. Quit b’fore. Prob’ly quit again, too. Jus’ can’t get it ta stick. Not fer long. ‘Sides, if I was serious ‘bout it, I wouldn’t keep a pack on hand ‘just in case’, right?” He looked at the cigarette held loosely between his fingers. “Ain’t a good time fer it, anyhow.”

Cash studied him. “no?”

Twist sighed. His foot bounced in agitation. “Nah. Not now. Whatever. ‘s fine. Ain’t like—“ He shut his sockets and huffed. “Got bigger things’n smokin’ ta worry ‘bout, right?” He laughed, low and bitter. “Pretty sure I only ever bothered tryin’ ‘cause it made my bro happy.”

Cash grunted. “that’s a stupid reason.”

Twist just smiled at him. “Aw, darlin’, didn’ anyone tell ya? Stupid reasons‘re the only ones I got.”

Something in Cash’s soul twisted. He felt it every time Twist called himself stupid or said something about his LV. He never knew how to respond, never knew what to say. So he just looked out over the street and changed the subject. “you gonna tell me what happened? or is that another one of your secrets?”

Twist laughed. “Secrets? Aw, sweetheart. I ain’t got any secrets.”

Cash called his bluff. “yeah? then what happened to your eye, asshole?”

Twist blinked. “My eye?” Then he smiled. “Aw, darlin’—‘m a skeleton. Ain’t got no eyes; never did.” He winked, lighting another cigarette. Cash rolled his eyelight while Twist took a long drag. “Ya wanna know what happened tanight? Ran inta an old ‘friend’.” Cash could hear the air quotes in that phrase, could see it in the way Twist pulled in on himself. He drew one leg toward his chest and rested his arm on his knee, eyelight sharp as he scanned the street. Only now did Cash realize Twist hadn’t just come out here to smoke; he was keeping watch. “She an’ I got a hist’ry. Long one.” He scratched his shattered socket, grimacing as dried magic flaked off the bone.

“she’s a spider?”

“Yeah. The Muffet from my universe.” Twist paused, looking up at him. “Didja have a Muffet?”

Cash shrugged. “probably. she and i weren’t close.”

“Yeah? In’erestin’…. Think yer the only Papyrus that ain’t got some kind ‘a hist’ry with his Muffet.”

Cash just grunted and looked away. “so? what’d yours do?”

Twist took a long drag on his cigarette, smoke slipping out from the gaps between his skull and jaw. “Tanight? Made a pass at Paps. Got me riled up. If the police hadn’t shown….” Smoke curled from his nasal aperture as he studied the cigarette. “Thought it’d be tanight. Thought I’d lose it there. With her.” He shut his sockets and shook his head.

When he looked up at Cash again, there was something open and vulnerable in his expression. It made Cash’s soul pulse, and his whole body went taut. “I don’ wanna lose it ‘cause ‘a her, Patches. Don’ wan’ her ta be the thing that finally pushes me over.” He swallowed hard, his breathing ragged. “She already—she—“ He shut his sockets, shaking his head. Magic leaked from between the cracks in his shattered socket like molten gold. He brushed it away, taking a deep breath. “Fuck,” he muttered. More emphatically, he said, “Shit. Life jus’…jus’ ain’t fair, is it?” He stared out over the empty street, his shoulders tense. “Finally made it ta the surface. Outta the detention center. An’…here she is. Like she was jus’ waitin’ fer me ta get settled. Seems like I can’t ever get ahead ‘a things. Can’t ever quite make it outta the hole I dug fer myself when I was too young ta know what I was doin’.”

He laughed again, sounding anything but amused. Smiling wryly, he looked up at Cash and said, “Heh. Sorry, sweetheart. I ain’t good comp’ny right now. You headin’ in soon?”

Cash followed Twist’s gaze down to his cigarillo, realizing the cherry had burnt down nearly to his fingers. He threw it down and stamped it out, grinding the butt under his heel. “no.” He pulled away from the wall and sat on the steps beside Twist, arms crossed. “one of those nights,” he said, stealing a look at Twist. “can’t sleep. you know how it is.”

Twist nodded, still scanning the street. “Yeah. I know how it is.”

For a few minutes, he was quiet, and Cash shifted. The silence was uncomfortable, but Cash didn’t know how to break it. He had no idea how to reply to everything Twist had said. He was probably supposed say something comforting, right? But any words of reassurance he might have offered seemed hollow and trite. So he just kept his silence and stared out into the darkness, fingers restlessly playing over the double-headed coin he kept on hand.

Snuffing out his cigarette, Twist studied the butt, then pulled out a third. “Y’know…maybe you oughtta call up Slim? See if he’s having a sleepless night too. You two could—“

“fuck off.”

“I was gonna suggest cards, but you two c’n do whate’er ya like, darlin’.”

Cash glared at him, hoping he could feel his sins crawling on his back. “stop it. stop playing matchmaker. mind your own damn business.”

Foot still bouncing, Twist only spared him a brief glance. He shrugged. “Jus’ a suggestion. Seems like you two could—“

“i said stop.”

Twist gave the street a thorough look, then he turned his attention to Cash, his good eyelight flaring. “Look ‘ere, darlin’. I know ya like ‘im. And I know he likes you. He’s too shy ta make a move and yer too fuckin’ proud ta bend fer ‘im.” Twist stabbed a finger at his chest, making Cash sit up straight. “Why the fuck’re you so determined ta be unhappy, huh? Ya got—ya got a fuckin’ chance ta have a life up here; why don’ ya take advan’age ‘a that? Why’re ya always tryna sabotage yerself?”

Cash’s sockets narrowed, and he leaned in, holding Twist’s gaze. “yeah? where the fuck do you get off? as if you don’t do the same thing.”

“What the fuck’re you talkin’ about? I—“

“slim.” Twist swallowed and broke eye contact. “you two flirt with each other every chance you get. don’t even try to tell me you don’t want him. i can see it—he can see it. and between the two of us, i think we both know who’d make him happier in the long run.”

Twist shut his sockets and sighed, running his claws over his coronal suture. “Darlin’, I ain’t got a ‘long run’, yeah?”

Cash shook his head. “oh, fuck off. you’re fine. you’re—“

Twist turned and hooked a finger around the collar of his jacket and pulled him close. Close enough that Cash could feel the heat pouring off of him, could smell the sweetness of spent magic. “You got cotton stuffed in your earholes? Didja hear me earlier? I almost lost it tanight.” He held up his thumb and forefinger and pinched them nearly together. “Came this close. It’s like…like standin’ on the edge of a cliff—you c’n stand there an’ wait fer it ta crumble underneath ya, er you c’n step straight off…but ya can’t back away.” He let go of Cash and leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “Not gonna pull nobody else inta that. Not my bro. Not Slim.”

Then Twist turned and gave him a look that hit him like a punch to the soul. “Not you.”

Soul pulsing, the back of his neck prickling, Cash had to turn away, fingers curling limply. His soul felt too heavy and too light all at once. “twist—“

But Twist was standing and stretching. “’m gonna walk ‘round the house. Make sure we ain’t got spiders in our eaves.” He looked at Cash and grinned. The expression didn’t meet his sockets. “Like I said, I ain’t good comp’ny tanight. Why doncha give Slim a call, huh?”

Cash couldn’t think of what to say, so he just watched Twist walk away, searching for signs of spiders and spiderlings. Soul still sitting strangely in his chest, Cash stood up and stuffed his hands in his pockets before heading inside. The house was dark and quiet and—

(Standing in the Hall. Tasting dust on the air. Waiting for Them. Waiting. Waiting and waiting.)

(But nobody came.)

—and Cash didn’t bother to turn on any lights. He walked down the hall to Blackberry’s room and pushed the door open. The smaller monster sat up immediately, one hand raised and magic glimmering in his sockets. “Who—“ He blinked, lowering his control hand. “Oh. It’s you. What do you want?”

“tell me about the muffet from your universe.”

Blackberry stared at him, sockets narrowed. “Why?”

Cash crossed his arms. “because it’s midnight and your brother is circling the house, searching for spiders.”

The blankets bunched in his hands, and Blackberry pulled them to his chest. “Turn on the light.” For a moment, Cash held still. Then he reached out and flipped the light switch on. “I don’t know everything,” Blackberry said, looking up at him. “Papy hid a lot from me when we were with her, and after we got separated….” He looked away, his fists clenched so tight the magic had drained from his knucklebones. “I just know she hurt him. Bad. He didn’t like tight spaces after we found each other again. Or apples.”

Cash’s brow-bones rose. He knew about Twist’s strong reaction to apples, but he hadn’t known that his Muffet was the cause of the aversion. “she’s here now? on the surface?”

Blackberry nodded, pulling in on himself. He drew his knees to his chest and rested his fists on top, still gripping the blankets like a lifeline. “She found us.”

“what name is she using?”

Blackberry looked up at him, his eyelights glinting. “What are you planning?”

Cash shrugged. “haven’t decided yet.”

He nodded, climbing out of bed. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”