"You Got the Bad Ending" (Angsty) Bite Me! extra
This is NOT CANON.
I only wrote it to appease the angst Gods so I can continue to write the fluff. It is Mutt/Hazel angst, so SF!Papyrus/Reader.
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Days were slow and steady, and for once in his life, Papyrus didn't mind the quiet.
Quiet with you felt good. Your little feet in his lap, that coy smirk over the top of your book every time he looked up, the gentle press of your lips as he let you take the lead, let you be comfortable.
Laying in bed with you and letting the rest of the world disappear.
“you don't know what you mean to me,” he sighed against the back of your neck as he closed his sockets, letting the smell of apple pie a la mode fill his senses. But there was something else, something he hadn't noticed, deeper--more primal and true.
Blood.
...He didn't want to open his eyes.
“MUTT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WE NEED TO LEAVE!”
No. No. Nonononono, his brother isn't here, he doesn't visit his apartment, not with you there and the separation and--
“MUTT!”
--it's fading. The soft bed, the curtains you picked, the satin of your nightgown. Instead there's a strange sticky slickness beneath his fingertips and rough denim, the feeling of rain pattering against his skull. He tried to grasp onto that comfortable place, that perfect place, but--
“PAPYRUS!”
His sockets snapped open.
Gone was his apartment. Gone was Calvin and Hobbes and the white noise of the TV in the background. Gone was the soft, sleepy smile of the woman he so desperately loved…
...loved? He'd loved...but how?
Terrified eyelights turned to the weight in his hands.
He knows that face, all too well, but there was no coquettish smirk. Your eyes were dull and plain brown, not even the tiniest hint of your green magic sparking in them.
You were bleeding, everywhere, everywhere, all over where he'd dragged you into his grasp. The trail led all the way around the alley corner and his brother stood there with a panicked look on his face.
“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! WE HAVE TO DUMP THIS BODY!” Sans whisper-shouted, gripping you by the lapel of your cutoff denim vest. “EARTH TO MUTT! WE'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!”
...That's right. The Razorbacks had flooded their terf to attack their bookies’, and Papyrus had been sent to hunt down the mage that had been casting that massive shield. It had fallen when she had gotten shot, and he'd caught her.
Just a girl. He had no clue who she was. Never met or heard of her, and yet…
...the moment he had touched her, he'd seen an entire lifetime or something like it, and he...he…
Sans watched in shock as tears welled in his brother's sockets, his eyelights shrunk with shock as he gently caressed the mage's face like an old friend or lover. You would think he knew her better than himself, the shaky way he brushed her hair from her dead face, and the rain mingled with bitter tears as he watched his brother completely break, holding her as if she were a treasure slipping from his grasp.
Sans could hear the sirens in the distance.
“PAPYRUS,” he said, gripping his shoulder. “WE NEED TO DO SOMETHING WITH HER.”
“...happy.”
“WHAT?”
The look on his face as he looked up was...he'd never seen him look like that, completely blank with despair. The vivid loss of HoPe was actually visible in the way his magic dulled, and for once in his life, Sans feared he might not be able to bring his brother back from this.
There was a choked sob as he repeated himself.
“...happy, sans. for once in my god-forsaken, pathetic life...i was happy.”
“... PAPYRUS…”
Papyrus gripped the dead human closer, his eyes pleading. “why? why?!”
“I...I DON'T KNOW?!”
Then back to the human. “oh, little rabbit. it...it isn't fair,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion as he hoisted whoever she was up to his shoulder and stood, on shaky legs.
Sans gripped his jacket, and they were gone.
And Papyrus was never, ever the same.