(Child death tw; grief tw) Over the land there lies a long shadow

[lightofthestars]

In the court among the flowers, a small grave has been made. Next to it, upon a bed-sheet shroud, lies Frisk.

Tauriel and the Batman had worked to make Frisk ready for this funeral. She could not bear the thought of laying them to rest as she had found them, and so together, the two of them had cleaned Frisk's body and dressed them in new clothes. Tauriel had bathed their body in many tears as she had worked, for their wounds were grievous and had surely caused them great anguish. She had need, in the end, to find a cloth to wind around their neck, for nothing could cover the wound that had ended their life.

When the work had been carried out, Tauriel had called as many as she could find of the people of the castle to the garden. She cannot be the only one to say farewell to their dearly loved friend.

Comments

[antitemporal]

Sans-Serif takes hold of his brother's hand without hesitation, when he sees S-4 reaching out. He squeezes it gently and smiles tremulously. It scares him, seeing S-4 like this. The somber mood of the castle had dragged on all three of them, in its own way, as they all struggled with the holes that had been torn in their souls by Frisk's absence. But Sans-Serif, at least, feels determined to make himself shine brighter to keep his brother with him. He wasn't made to protect or heal or keep safe like S-4 was. But maybe fighting bad things or bad feelings can be a way of keeping people safe, too. He doesn't want to lose the sound of S-4's voice in his life. He knows that none of them do, none of the friends that S-4 has made.

Frisk wouldn't want that, either.

"i probably won't need to, though. you'll do great. but, but i wanna learn to read like the other me does." In case Sans gets too tired to do it.

"and, and my soul's not blue anymore. s-so i'm already doing good. i'm doing the right things." He sounds hesitantly proud of himself. Sans had been reluctant to even let him come to the funeral before. And now he's standing here, and even if he feels weighted down and heavy with the emotion from everyone around him, at least he's standing. "and...so are you."

[systematicsupport]

S-4 does finally look back after a moment of silence, noticing Sans-Serif's smile and giving his own slightly weaker smile back. He can sense the difficult emotions in his brother's soul, and though he's not really in a state to read him as well as he usually can, he can at least get the feeling that not all of the distress he's feeling is due to Frisk's murder. There's a chance that S-4 is making his brother feel bad, and that goes against everything he ever wanted to do for his brother. He has to at least try to stay calm, stay determined. Sans-Serif had always believed in him, no matter what the two of them faced. He needs to be someone to believe in now, too, as impossible as that sounds.

"Sans can read really well. Way better than I can. Gaster said I might need glasses, like he does. But I was going to try to sound the words out anyways. I... don't think they'd mind if I was a little slow."

The mention of Sans-Serif's soul being blue, however, gets S-4 to give a doubtful glance over to Sans. He trusts any version of his brother fully of course, but... keeping Sans-Serif restrained like that gives him a bad feeling. It makes S-4 wonder if the nickname Sans-Serif gave the older him was more accurate than he thought.

"...Your soul shouldn't have had to be blue at all. You've been trying so hard to understand."

[antitemporal]

Sans is still nearby enough to be visible, though he's leaning against the back of one the trees at the edge of the clearing. Enough distance to give them space, hopefully. Though it's also near enough to overhear them. Only a bit of his hood and a sleeve are visible from this angle, but that will be enough to see the way he hunches in on himself a little at S-4's words.

He's starting to wonder the same. Starting to doubt, and uncertain of what to do with that. It's tempting to ignore it, of course, but...

...either way, even if he should apologize, words aren't coming easily right now.

Sans-Serif follows his brother's glance, and he smiles with an easy trust that might even worry Sans, were he looking over to see it. "but it's not now. so i must understand now. so it's okay! and, and i don't think they'd mind at all."

Still. He'll wait patiently until the graveside grows a little emptier before they make the attempt.

[systematicsupport]

As soon as he notices the way Sans is huddling, S-4 regrets his words. He shouldn't have been so doubtful. Sans obviously had a reason for acting the way he did, even if S-4 saw it as cruel. Surely there was more to it that S-4 wasn't seeing. He hasn't been in the world as long as Sans has. He obviously doesn't understand, that's all. With time, he'll see it wasn't imprisoning his brother or threatening punishment. Maybe that's just what caretakers have to do.

Sans-Serif's trust adds to that reassurance that S-4 must have it wrong, and so he smiles softly back, leaning against his brother slightly so their armbones clack together.

"You do understand. Thank you so much for being here, brother. Um, if you won't mind watching me try to read, then... then you can stay." He watches the other mourners. It doesn't look like Sans-Serif will have much time to decide before they're left alone.

[antitemporal]

Fortunately for both of them, Sans-Serif makes his decision almost as soon as S-4 offers it. "i won't mind." He leans back a little against his brother in turn. He even rattles the bones of the other arm in a show of support. "i want to."

When at last they're alone, but for Sans keeping watch a short distance away, Sans-Serif takes the lead in creeping cautiously nearer to the little grave with its flowers. He sits himself gingerly down on the grass, still staring at it.

"frisk, um...i don't know if you're still here. i can't feel you, but, but that could just be because you're...under all of that. but i hope you can hear us, because s-4 is gonna read you a bedtime story, before you go away. and, and it's going to be really good. because s-4 is really good, and...and you're our friend, so we'll try our best." He smiles in relief, feeling that rare feeling of having all the words out and said in their proper order. Then he looks up at S-4 to join him there.

[systematicsupport]

S-4 is silent for a long while after that, but instead of it being his earlier detachment from the world making him unable to speak, it's the impact of Sans-Serif wanting to do something. He doesn't need to do it, he hasn't been asked to. He just... wants to. Like any normal person would. For Sans-Serif to be able to feel that way already, after such a short time being here, shows S-4 that the two of them being here is a gift he hopes they get to cherish forever.

He lets Sans-Serif lead him over by the hand, before getting down on his knees, placing the book in his lap. It's hard to listen to Sans-Serif saying his goodbyes, in a way that's so kind and gentle, and so sure of himself. He knows that what S-4 is going to do is the best goodbye Frisk could ask for, and he states that with such firmness that the taller skeleton finds himself believing it too, smiling at his brother even as he fumbles with the book.

When he seems to have finished speaking, S-4 starts. His voice is hoarse from the crying he's done and that he still wants to do, but it's as gentle as he can make it.

"Frisk... hello. I know I can't feel you either, but I know you're there, and that you can hear us. I know... you wouldn't want to leave without saying goodbye. So I... wanted to say I miss you. And that you were an amazing friend. I, um... I haven't read a lot, but I'm going to try my best, okay? I hope you like it."

With a slow exhale, S-4 flips the book open to the first page, presses a finger underneath the first word, and starts hesitantly reading.

[antitemporal]

It will soon transpire that S-4 chose his book quite well. It's a picture book about a human child - specifically, a human child who has lost what the book calls a "kite". Sans-Serif mispronounces it when he murmurs the word under his breath. It's an entirely unfamiliar word to him, which is just as well, because the image of what he finally correctly guesses to be the kite is an entirely unfamiliar image. It looks to be a sort of toy that you can make fly in the air. It's bright and colorful and the human is having so much fun playing with it that Sans-Serif wants one of his own.

But then they lose it. They lose their grip on the string and it gets torn away from them up into the sky. And the human child is sad.

They don't want to play with any of their other toys. Fortunately, their "parents" and friends all come together to try and make the child happy again. They play with them and spend time with them and tell them that it's okay. And in the end, they even all come together to help make a new kite for the child.

The story ends with a picture of the smiling child with their new kite and all their friends around them, with words saying that it doesn't matter what you have, as long as you have good friends who love you.

Sans-Serif does get frustrated a little easily on the words he doesn't know, so he'll mostly defer to S-4 in the telling.

[systematicsupport]

A kite. A toy that flies up in the sky. Kind of like a bird, colourful and light, but usually shaped very differently. It takes S-4 a few tries to sound the word out, but eventually, he decides the correct pronunciation sounds the best, and he sticks with it, and he also wonders if there are supplies to make a kite of their own, here in the castle. With their friends...

By the end of the story, S-4 is tearing up again. Frisk deserved so much. They had so many good friends, and they loved every one of them. S-4 should have read to them sooner. He should have found gifts to give them. He should have been the kind of friend that was in the story.

But here he is, trying to become that much too late.

He leans against Sans-Serif as he closes the book, sniffling.

"...I'm sorry, Frisk. I-I wasn't very good."

[antitemporal]

Sans-Serif shifts when S-4 leans against him, for the sake of wrapping his arms around his brother in a tight hug. He shushes the other skeleton gently, though more due to his self-deprecation than his tears. Sans-Serif's own eyesockets are blurred with them once more, but he doesn't care. He lets them fall, so maybe S-4 will see that it's okay. "no way, s-4, that was really good. you picked a really hard book, i-i know you did. but you made it all the way to the end! you didn't give up. and, and you read much louder than i do. so i know frisk heard you. and i know they're happy! because bedtime stories make everyone happy."

S-4 might be able to hear footsteps slowly approaching, after a moment. Sans-Serif does, but he doesn't bother to look around, since he can also immediately tell who it is.

"he's right, s-4." Sans smiles down at them both, tired and fond. There are the smudged remains of tears around his eyesockets. He hoped he hadn't distracted either of them from their work when he'd finally broken down. "take it from me. that was...that was something special. from both of you. frisk would be happy."

[systematicsupport]

S-4 slumps in Sans-Serif's grip, pressing his hands to his face, trying and failing to keep his tears from falling.

"No, no, it wasn't! I-I didn't finish the story right, because... because I started crying.I promised myself I wouldn't cry anymore. I don't want Frisk to be upset. But how can they be happy if I'm crying like this? Now they'll... they'll be sad and it'll be my fault."

Even if he didn't give up, it doesn't matter. He made a mess of things. Seeing his brother cry only makes him feel more sure of his failure.

The steps distract him for a moment, but only for a moment before he's rubbing at his eyesockets again.

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."