There's No Fixing This

It had been a week since the family of skeletons had settled in snowdin, Gaster's two sons already becoming well acquainted with their new place of residence, (the younger celebrating the end of his community service expoits). As of today, the town was enjoying optimal weather; buildings and houses were bathing in the artificial sunlight of the underground, and the snow that interminably encased the town sat fresh with bulbous white mounds of it glittering pleasantly. The laughter of children playing echoed off of walls, rooves and evergreens, as did the general ambience of adult chatter in the streets. The town of Snowdin was enjoying another day of peace and quiet.

Sitting cross-legged on the soft carpet of his new-ish home, Papyrus the skeleton was not. 

"C'mon Papy, play with me," Sans begged for the hundredth time, lightly smacking Papyrus's hands to try and get his brother's attention. Papyrus huffed and put down his half-finished rubix cube, turning towards his older brother sitting on the ground next to him. "Play what?"

"Outside!"

"Nah way, you know I don't like snow." I don't really wanna go outside if I don't have to, Papyrus thought as he moved to pick up his rubix cube again. Before he could, a flash of white filled his vision and there was his brother, standing over him, tossing Papyrus's colorful puzzle back and forth between his hands. The resounding clack, clack of plastic against bone taunted papyrus as he tried to grab for the cube, his brother dancing just out of his reach, giggling. "Sans! Give it!" Papyrus cried, struggling to get up fast enough to chase his confounded brother, who was already beginning to run towards the stairs. His incessant giggles turned to screaming laughter as Papyrus sped after him, both boys knocking various objects over as they tore their own path through the house.

Sans was much taller than his brother despite being only two years older, and Papyrus was rather small for his age, significantly smaller legs struggling to keep in tow of his brother's longer ones. The only reason he caught up with Sans was because the doof had tripped over a fallen stack of books, tumbling to the ground as the younger tackled him, both boys laughing joyously. The rubix cube lay forgotten inches away as Sans flipped his brother to his back and began a furious tickling war, Papyrus eventually screaming uncle at the top of his lungs.

Sans rolled off of him, the pinpricks of light in his otherwise dark eyesockets glowing brightly, his chest impossibly heaving with residing laughter (skeletons do not have lungs). "Gosh, papy, guess I really tickled your funnybone," Sans said after a moment, giving his brother a wink. Papyrus screeched indignantly at the awful pun, nearly tackling his brother again.

I hate those, dangit!

"Oh, right, sorry Paps, I forgot you don't like my jokes so much. I'm such a bonehead," Sans chortled. Papyrus promptly leapt upon him, both of them roaring in laughter once more. 

A wide grin had stuck itself on Papyrus's face as his brother overpowered him easily, peppering his chest with fake punches. He truly did love to play with his big bro. He looked so happy. Papyrus decided that even enduring the snow would be worth it, and was about to suggest that the two go outside for a snowball fight when his father burst into the house, home from his grocery run, looking very unhappy. 

"Papyrus!" Gaster bellowed, seething. He started to yell again but stopped and visibly tried to collect himself when he saw the startled and terrified faces of his sons, both frozen in whatever positions they'd been in when he had entered the living room. Gaster simply set the bags on the entry table, pointed at Papyrus, jerked his thumb in the direction of his room harshly, and walked in, signaling for the young skeleton to follow. Crap...Papyrus thought wearily, sternum growing uncomfortbly cold with indignant anger at being the only one to be yelled at, and with dread at the harsh lecture that would definitely ensue. I'm gonna get chewed out bad for roughhousing again, He thought despairingly. Sans gave him a pitying look as Papyrus trundled by. His good mood was absolutely ruined. Nevertheless, Papyrus gave his brother a goofy "What's this guy's problem?" look back, earning himself a stifled chuckle. 

Papyrus's father paced back and forth, seemingly lost in furious thought. The dark room casted a shadow over his face, the cracks running through both of his eyes and down his skull becoming eerie looking as his eyelights guttered out in anger. Papyrus sat awkwardly on the large bed, swinging his stubby legs back and forth over the side. He hadn't been this scared since that one night where he had accidentally (totally NOT his fault!!) stolen towels and ended up at the guard station. This wasn't fun fear though. 

He wasn't enjoying this. 

Just when hearing nothing but his father's hurried footsteps was about to drive him crazy, Gaster stopped at looked at Papyrus dead in the eyes, pupils returning to his eyesockets. Papyrus found himself immediately glancing at his shoes and keeping his gaze locked there. 

"Why." The question was spat out like a statement, Gaster's anger too unbendable to warp the word into an inquiry. 

He was not meant to answer anyway.

So Papyrus was silent. 

"He's not meant to roughhouse, Papyrus. You are perfectly aware of this, yet you still do it. We moved here so his health would improve, and you can't even help that happen? You are actively keeping your brother from ever getting better, you child! What is wrong with you?!"

Tears stung Papyrus's eyes, and shame washed over him in turn. He hated crying. He hated being punished. He says child like im not supposed to act like one. I dont get it, I don't! He flinched as his father spoke again, his voice cold as ice. 

"Don't cry, boy. I'm sick of you acting like a baby. You are no longer an infant-

I'm not acting like one...

"-and you will assist in making sure your brother isn't throwing himself around the house like a goon-

My brother is not a goon! He couldn't take this, especially when his brother was being insulted. 

"-because it could hinder his advancement, and regress all of the measly progress he's made in the week that he's been here! You-"

Papyrus interrupted him by screaming suddenly, childishly. He was hurt, embarrassed, and angry. Very angry. He couldn't really comprehend it, his throat tight and his chest heaving. Gaster wheeled back from Papyrus in surprise, as he had been slowly advancing on the small child during his tirade. "IT'S NOT FAIR!" He yelled, tears running full-on down his cheekbones. "IT MAKES HIM HAPPY TO BE ABLE TO BE FREE! HE CANT GET BETTER IF HE'S SAD ALL THE TIME!! HE WANTS TO BE LIKE THE REST OF THE KI-"

SLAP

Papyrus's breath was stolen from him as his father, quicker than he could process, brought his hand down upon his son's left cheekbone, as harsh and as sudden as a lightning strike. 

"He can't be like the rest of the kids, Papyrus," His father began, voice low and deadly. "His HP is too low. One hit--a baseball, a friendly shove gone wrong, anything. Could. Be. Critical." At every word, Gaster poked his paralyzed son's chest roughly, trying his best to drive the point home. "His freedom will be sacrificed for his safety. And I would do anything to keep him safe," He finished, glaring at Papyrus pointedly. Papyrus shuddered. He didn't want to speak. He didn't think he'd be able to.

He tried anyway.

"But...we were just playing. In the house. You say the house is safe. You're always like 'In the safety of our own home,' and stuff...he should be able to, y'know, play inside with me, at least," Papyrus mumbled, voice shaky and small. Gaster said nothing in response for a while. 

Until he suddenly grabbed Papyrus by the collar of his striped shirt, forcing him off the bed and onto the floor. Papyrus's small legs stumbled to catch up to the rest of his body so he would not fall. He was terrified, hands reaching up to grasp where his father's were, eyelights shrinking to pinpricks with fear. "Why can't you get this?" Gaster grumbled, pulling Papyrus along to the door, his long black lab coat sweeping papers off his desk as his pace quickened. Important royal scientist stuff, Papyrus's mind supplied inbetween the throes of garbled white noise that filled his panicked thoughts. "Sans is so intelligent. So obedient. You're the less...fragile one, so why can't you just be more like him? I don't understand. He should've been a good influence on you." 

Gaster opened the door roughly and Papyrus was thrown out of the room, landing in an unceremonious heap of tearful bones on the floor. 

"I'm going to take a nap, so I don't have too much of a headache to make dinner later. And after dinner I have to make a phone call..." Gaster paused for a moment to rub his eyesocket with the back of his hand in stress. "Help your brother clean up this mess," He said pointedly, looking less angry and more exhausted. And then the door slammed closed, Papyrus flinching heavily with it. 

Papyrus looked around the living room, tears obscuring his vision. Sans had already cleaned it up, but his father hadn't noticed. Sans was also nowhere to be found. He rubbed furiously at his eyesockets and decided to look for his brother upstairs. He got up shakily and proceeded to trudge up the stairs, rubbing his bruised cheek. His breath hitched at the pain and he collapsed on the third one, breaking down in messy sobs. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He got totally chewed out, as usual, but something was different this time. His dad was being way more...mean. It seemed like he didn't care about Papyrus at all. He even hit him...well, he slapped him on the cheek. Did that count? Papyrus had heard the kids in school talking about their parents spanking them. Was that the same thing? Was he just being a big baby about this...? He'd grabbed him, too. That was scary. The bad kind, not the roller coaster kind. The really bad kind. 

This is all my fault...

I don't know what to do. 

Well, yes he did. He was going to look for Sans. He tried his best to force himself to stop crying and continued to make his way upwards. He wasn't upset. He wasn't. Dad can go die, He thought angrily, stomping up the stairs in feigned confidence. 

"Sans?" Papyrus called as he made it to the top. 

"In here," His brother's voice echoed softly from his room. 

Papyrus made his way inside, and was immediately wrapped up in a warm hug. "I'm sorry dad yelled at you like that," Sans mumbled, eyes, downcast. "I know it was because of me. I heard most of it." He patted Papyrus on the head, making his little brother burst into tears again. As he clumsily rubbed his back, Sans got the strangest feeling that something more had happened. He couldn't fathom what. 

That night, the two brothers climbed into the same bed, tiny arms clutching each other until they both fell asleep. 

*****

Tello didn't get paid enough for this. 

Their gears clicked nervously as they made their way down the bleak hallway, trying very hard to keep only their destination in mind. They hated working the lab in the evening. It was dangerous to walk home this late in the Capitol, and the lab was incredibly...

creepy 

at night. 

Dimly lit rooms, an empty office. Scientific tools laying around halphazardly, glinting in the flourescent light coming from above. The shadows seemed to move with them down the hallway, following determinedly, endlessly. It made Tello want to run screaming into the comfort of their own damn home, honestly. But they still had so much work to do. And they weren't even getting paid overtime. An irritated sound escaped them, somehow containing a hint of nervousness as well. A phone ringing a few doors down nearly scared them into dust. God above. Maybe they should adopt some children, or something. The head of the facility, Dr. W.D. Gaster, was compensated with early leave, being a single parent and all. Tello should invest in that little advantage. Maybe they'd get their own assistant.

They hurried to their office to grab the phone, which is where they were going anyway, and picked it up. "Ring, ring, hello?" Tello garbled, their voice exhibiting its usual trait of being very hard to understand. Dr. Gaster's voice crackled through the other end, not skipping a beat but obviously wrought with tiredness. "Tello. I need to inquire about...that thing I discussed with you around a week ago." 

Tello paused, gears clicking rapidly. "You're going to go through with that? They're quite old. I do not know if they will work. I have not managed to test one yet."

"I am. I am not equipped to deal with this...issue myself. I need you to try and test one tomorrow. Don't get caught, and e-mail me your results."

Dull, repeating tones took over the audio of the call as Gaster hung up. Tello set the phone down gingerly, lost in thought. They did not care about the wellbeing of Gaster's children, but they were disturbed by the air of certainty that stretched taut in his voice, drowning out any compassion he might have for...that one. It was strange. A parent should love their child, should they not? This seemed like a lazy way to raise one. But Tello would do it, they would test those wretched collars. It was none of their business, and besides, they were getting paid extra. 

A mechanical sigh escaped their mouth as they sat down to fill out the rest of the paperwork for tonight, documenting the results of the newest CORE tests from the basement.

They couldn't wait to go home and enjoy some Mettaton. He was doing a cooking segment tonight, and they had already missed the beginning.