castle_perrault | [open] There's a word for that, what does it start with? A word for that, I'll sound so smart

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undertale

[open] There's a word for that, what does it start with? A word for that, I'll sound so smart

It's been quite the stressful week for most of the castle's inhabitants. S-4 wasn't any different. With losing Frisk, fighting with Sans-Serif not to take any souls, struggling with the overwhelming emotions the funeral brought up, and then trying to deal with his dear friend's return as well as attempting to take care of his siblings (even Sans, despite him holing himself up in some mysterious room in the castle with that weird human), S-4 was a bit exhausted. But he wasn't about to sleep without a bedtime story.

Sans was too busy, so S-4 didn't want to bother him by asking. Sans-Serif would have helped, but he was still learning to read, and S-4 didn't want to frustrate him. It would probably be fine to just read it to himself.

He takes one of the picture books to the lounge, and is slowly flipping through it, a fingerbone pressed to the page underneath the words so he can keep his place.

"Out... came... the baby... bird."

Sophie called him a baby. He knows what that is. And a bird are those singing, flying creatures up in the trees. But the one in this book talks. Maybe only little birds can do that?

"'Where... is my... mother?' he said..."

Now that's a word he doesn't know.

"Mother? Mother... like brother?"

They rhyme, so it must be similar. But what exactly is one? Does he have one?

He's frowning at the book until he realizes someone is watching him read. Usually, he'd have a moment to be embarrassed about being caught like this, but right now, his question is too serious to be ignored for shame.

"What's a mother?"

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With the two of them looking together, it won't take too much time to find the book. It's been carefully placed back right where S-4 would have first found it. And it's surrounded by other bright books with other interesting titles. Sans-Serif finds himself tempted to just pull one of those out to read with his brother instead - but, they have an important job to do. With the first book settled safely on a chair where they can hopefully find it again, he goes searching through the other shelves, or at least the ones he can see as high as.

Fortunately, for all the library's size, for all the hundreds of books crammed into it, it actually doesn't take them much longer to be successful in their search. It all starts with him finding a book on building boats, and searching much more carefully from there. A book on kites is three shelves down and four to the left. Sans-Serif pulls it out and holds it up with a delighted gasp. "here it is!"

Hastily, he sits down right there on the floor and opens it up to a random page. And he can scarcely believe what he sees when he does - rather than the simple square of red from the story, the kite detailed in this part of the book looks like some enormous monster, as big as a Snort.

"I'm glad about that too! Do... do you like it here?"

He hopes they do. He definitely doesn't want them sad.

"...sort of. I wish...I could come and go. Between here and home," they admit. "But if I need to be somewhere that's not back there, this castle's one of the better places to be, I think."

Even if Sans-Serif doesn't allow himself to get distracted from the task at hand, S-4 is a little more curious about the different titles, and so even as Sans-Serif goes looking through the shelves, he starts pulling out more books. Here's one about some sort of game with a ball, and one about space, and a book about bunnies-oh, his brother will definitely like that one...

Sans-Serif's gasp of excitement quickly lures him over, though, and he hurries over to Sans-Serif's side, placing the stack of books beside him, only to gasp in surprise at the picture he sees.

"Wow... It's really big! And it has a face. Is it supposed to have a face?"

He flips the page, and it shows another kite, just as large, but designed to look somewhat like a frog.

Sans-Serif scoots over to make room for his brother, and obligingly holds the book up a little so that S-4 can see it better. "we could give it a face. do you want to give it a face?" Would Frisk like it if it had a face?

Then he remembers - "some of them do have faces! frisk said we could paint a 'kitty' face on it, if we wanted! but i didn't know what one of those was." And he doesn't know how to paint. Learning how to paint and learning how to make a kite seems like it might be a bit hard, even for the two of them.

He sets to work flipping throuh the pages one way, and then the other. Fortunately, a page almost at the very beginning of the book has what they were initially looking for. Sans-Serif's eyesockets widen, and he taps a finger against the page. "there!" A picture of a kite that's just a bright, simple diamond shape with a ribbony sort of tail.

"i tried to get us some fabric already. i left it under the bed." It's a respectable amount of torn curtain.

S-4 gets more worried by the second, at the stillness, and the look in Sans' eyes that betrays that he thinks he's in trouble. He's seen the same look from Sans-Serif many times since his arrival in the castle, and maybe later this will reassure him that the two of them really aren't all that different, but right now, he's in a panic, watching Sans for any sign of what's wrong.

He notices the way Sans is cradling his arm before his brother starts speaking, and immediately, he knows what's going on. The excuses are ignored, because it doesn't matter if S-4 is tired or if the injury is minor. He's always feeling up to doing something that will support his brother.

By the time the sleeve has been rolled up, S-4 has moved forward, quickly and gently cradling the bone in both hands. His eyes flicker with the beginnings of magic, and moments later, the warm, tingly feeling of a monster's healing travels from S-4's fingers along Sans' arm. He doesn't bother speaking, intensely focused on the task at hand, watching the injury and Sans' face to make sure he isn't causing any pain.

There's no sense even worrying this can't be healed. S-4 has only failed at healing someone once, and he's already promised himself he won't ever fail again.

Sans does wince, at first, when S-4 takes his arm. But he also makes no move to pull away, because he trusts that the pain is temporary. He trusts wholeheartedly now that S-4 will be able to heal him.

Sure enough, scant seconds later, he feels that familiar warm rush spread from the site of the wound, all up and down his arm, and then all throughout his body to suffuse the rest of his bones. From there, S-4 will see no sign of pain on Sans' face. All he'll see is an expression of heartfelt relief, even if Sans keeps his eyesockets closed until S-4 is done. Tension is bleeding out of Sans that he'd grown so used to that he'd forgotten was even there.

When S-4 pulls away, Sans immediately moves to unwrap the bandage. The sight revealed beneath is an entirely unsurprising one. Where scant seconds before there was a neat but painful hairline fracture, now only whole and undamaged bone remains. Sans regards his arm with a shaky smile for a moment, and then he slumps back heavily against the couch with a long sigh of relief.

"wow..." He chuckles, a little shakily, lifting up a hand to rest over his eyesockets. "wow, i forgot how good that feels. thanks, bro."

"Oh. Um... I wish you could do that, too, if it would make you happy. Your world must be a really nice one."

One without purposes and dangers and disapproving scientists.

A nice one? Yeah, it counts as that. Definitely nicer than what the younger skeletons deal with. "Mm-hmm. It's the same where Mettaton's from, maybe? Sounds like he's from my future."

Frisk stretches out, looking contemplative. "You're really nice, S-4," they say abruptly.

"Um, I don't know. Does Frisk want a kite with a face? Like a 'kitty' face? ...Do you know what a kitty face is?"

Because S-4 certainly doesn't. It sounds very silly, though, so who knows if Frisk would enjoy it? Maybe S-4 will just have to ask, and then if they really want one, he and S-4 can work on figuring out how to put a face on the creature.

As Sans-Serif flips to the page that shows the simple design, S-4 grins.

"That looks really cool! And it shouldn't be that hard to figure out, right? Can I see the fabric?"

He hopes it's the right shade of red.

"sure! i'll show you!" Sans-Serif gets to his feet, tucks the book under one arm, and holds his other hand out for S-4 to take. Guessing at least a little at what his brother is hoping for, however, he shakes his head and adds: "it's not red, though. but we can use it to practice, so we get it right when we do find enough red fabric." The castle might reset any damage it takes, but Sans-Serif doesn't want to wait around to find out if that applies to curtains.

And indeed, once they return to their room, Sans-Serif crawls about halfway under their bed, only to gingerly emerge holding a large bundle of material in his hands. It's more a dusty sort of pink, rather than proper red. The fabric is flimsy and even a little bit see-through, but at least that makes it light enough for even Sans-Serif to carry.

"now what else do we need?"

S-4 almost tries to move away, but knows he needs to hold his arm, even with the nasty injury, if he wants to have a chance to heal it.

Thankfully, after a few moments, the relief overcomes the pain, and S-4 manages a soft smile as he keeps his magic coursing through Sans' arm, until he feels instinctively that there is nothing more he can do.

He almost asks if it's okay, but Sans shows him soon enough without him needing to ask. The arm looks to be completely healed, and Sans seems completely free of pain as well. S-4 allows himself another smile.

"I'm just glad you're okay now. It doesn't hurt anywhere else?"

Sans replies by leaning comfortably against his brother's side. He even moves to draw one of S-4's arms around his shoulder, snuggling against him a little to get comfortable now that he can do this without pain. "nope. i mean, it did, but...it's all good now."

Except it isn't. Not yet. Even if the surface damage has been fixed, Sans can't ignore the fact that "other" side-effects might not be so quick to fade.

...S-4 has to know. However hard it is, however much Sans doesn't want to think about what could happen, S-4 deserves to know.

His smile fades into a troubled, almost afraid sort of frown. Sans draws S-4's arm a little more tightly around himself. "...i should, uh," he begins. His voice falters, and he has to take a deep breath before he can try again. "i should probably tell you what i did to myself, to get hurt like that. i mean, um...i have to tell you." He picks anxiously at his sleeve. "just in case. it's...it's about some of what i was trying to do, in my lab."

"Oh! I didn't know you were from the same place. But I guess that makes sense. It's always nice to have someone from home here."

S-4's lucky to have his brothers, after all. He's about to mention that when Frisk speaks again.

"Wh-What? Not really... I, um, I try to be."

"Yeah. Still a little weird sometimes. He's my uncle--that's sort of...a parent's brother, usually. (And an aunt's a parent's sister.) But he's not Toriel's brother. I think...picked families can be really different from...actually-related families?" They look slightly troubled, but shrug it off.

"Are too. And you do it good." They don't have a wider point to make, he just is.

He's already reaching out to grab Sans-Serif's hand, and smiles when their fingers intertwine, before listening carefully to what his brother has to say.

"Oh, that's smart! We probably do need a lot of practice... I hope we can find red fabric soon though."

The dusty pink is nice enough, though, and light, so it should be able to fly on the wind well enough, right? S-4 looks over the material before he remembers the book, and checks the page.

"Um, we need two sticks, string, and a pair of scissors... Those should be easy to find, right?"

S-4 is happy to hold Sans close now that he knows he's fully healed, and he pulls the smaller skeleton closer into his side, smiling softly and peacefully.

At least for a few moments. Then Sans starts frowning, and S-4 can somehow tell his brother has something serious to talk about. He turns slightly so he can see his brother completely, and the hand around his shoulder rubs at Sans' arm as comfortingly as he can manage.

"I... I want to know what happened. If there's a chance you're going to get hurt again, I-I have to know. So I can heal you."

He's already terrified. He's seen more than enough of the bad side of science, and he had always believed his brother was just trying to do what was right, but... if it was at the price of his own well-being, was it worth it? Progress never seems to be worth all the suffering.

"Oh... it sounds like you have a lot of family members that are different. That sounds really nice though. I bet Mettaton would be a... fun uncle."

He kind of wishes he could have a big family like Frisk does, but it would be rude to ask about that.

"Not as good as you." He smiles softly.

"Probably. I've only seen him here, I don't know what he's gonna be like on the surface normally. Or if I'll get to see him a lot." They tap their chin, getting absorbed in the thought. "He's going to be famous. And I'm going to try helping Asgore and stuff. So we might be busy back there."

If only they could read minds, they'd encourage him to ask whatever he pleased.

They blink towards. "Well. I try to be nice, too. We're both good at it."

"sure they should!" Sans-Serif nods encouragingly up at his brother. "there's a lot of sticks outside. and, and everywhere needs string." Even a big, mysterious castle. "and..."

Hm. Scissors. Sans-Serif frowns thuoghtfully, staring straight ahead at nothing very much - that might be trickier. He's not sure he's seen something as mundane as a pair of scissors all while they've been here.

"...the other me might have some." Sans had gathered a lot of strange and sharp instruments for his makeshit lab. "or maybe we can borrow one of tauriel's knives."

He moves to smooth the pile of material out over the bed. It's enough to almost look like a second blanket. Maybe they can get two kites out of this.

"it...it might not be a matter of me getting hurt, s-4." At least, not in a way that his brother could heal. "it might be a matter of me...hurting other people." Especially Frisk. The thought of that happening, so soon after he'd thought that Frisk was gone forever, makes Sans feel physically sick.

But that's why S-4 has to know. That's why a few others have to know, too, but it's easiest to start with his brother.

"i told you a little bit about how i got my powers, r-right? that gaster was my brother, and the two of us worked together to try and find a way to stop the anomaly? well, i mean, it...it basically worked. as well as could be expected. eventually. but, uh...not without some problems." He winces at how much of an understatement that is, but Sans' memories of that time are still quite hazy, so what else can he do?

"over the past few days, i, um...i tried to replicate some of the things gaster did to me. to try and make myself even stronger, y'know? even though that's, that's what made me change into that thing in the first place. i thought i fixed where we went wrong. for a while, i was sure i did. but..." He lifts his previously-wounded arm, staring pensively at the neatly-healed bones. It should have healed without S-4's help. It hadn't.

"...now, i don't know. it might be nothing. it might be okay. but in case it's not...you should know."

"Oh. That makes sense. I bet he would be really busy... but um, what are you helping King Asgore with?"

It must be something very important, if the King is the one who has the plan. S-4 is quietly impressed.

"Okay. We can both be good." He laughs quietly.

"I'm going to be the ambassador for Humans and Monsters," Frisk says, trying to deepen their voice. Then they start laughing a little. "...that didn't sound like him at all."

Yes, that's some good thinking. Frisk turns the grin on him. "Exactly."

Immediately, S-4's movements freeze just for a moment, in complete confusion. His brother has always tried his best to be kind, and he's never hurt anyone who didn't need to be hurt. It doesn't make sense to him that his brother could do something so cruel.

But he listens anyways, and as Sans speaks a little more, everything becomes a little more clear. Sans was experimented on in his world, even if it was voluntary, and he was developed to stop the anomaly, much like Sans-Serif. Of course he would have abilities he couldn't quite control. And of course Sans would turn back to those abilities out of fear from everything that had happened.

...If only S-4 could have been there. If only he had put more effort into looking for the lab, into making sure Sans slept. But he had left Sans alone, and now things were going wrong once again. He tries his best to stop his bones from rattling.

"...I'm so sorry, Sans. I should have helped you. If I had, then you wouldn't be hurting like this..."

It's his fault. But it's always his fault. That's what he's always been told, and it's easy to fall back into that idea of guilt and self-hatred.

As Sans-Serif speaks, S-4 looks just a little more relieved. Of course there would be lots of sticks and string. There's so much of it no one should mind if the two brothers need to borrow some. Especially for something so important as a kite for Frisk.

The scissors, though, will be an issue.

"Hopefully they'll let us borrow them. Do you want me to go try to find them?"

Sans-Serif is busy with the fabric, after all, and S-4 wants to do something to help in the meantime.

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[open] There's a word for that, what does it start with? A word for that, I'll sound so smart

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