Whispers in the Dark chapter 11. In which a name is given, Paps is a tiny fierce, and what we’ve all been waiting for finally happens.
There’s just one more after this everyone! (wow, how strange is it that I started my fics at completely different times and have alternated chapters ever since but they’re both going to end at the same time ... ) This storyline will wrap up in part 12, but ... well I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t really wanting to explore a few other possibilities. And not just other fluffy oneshots either. We’ll see if I can make it work, but ... I’m thinking about it.
Whispers in the Dark
Pairings: None
Characters: Grillby, Papyrus 2-P, Sans 1-S, Dogamy, Dogaressa
Warnings: angst, implied medical torture, implied conditioning, recovery
Notes: Baby Blasters AU belongs to the wonderful @spacegate, I’m just playing in their amazing little sandbox.
Read on AO3 here (chapters go up on tumblr first)
Chapter 11
Time felt like it was standing still in the small apartment above Grillby's bar. Dogaressa and Dogamy had left for Hotland early that morning, finally having earned the king's permission to shut down the royal scientist's projects if they discovered anything questionable. The bartender was almost certain that what they would discover would prove to be far worse than that.
In the short time since taking in the skeletal child called 2-P, he'd learned a few things. The boy didn't like loud sounds or sudden contact. He startled easily and could react to such surprises with violence if he felt threatened or cornered. He shied away from bright light and open space, choosing instead to stay where there was a semblance of cover for him to hide behind. He would freeze up any time he felt he'd done wrong, expecting punishment to come swift and severe. And above all, 2-P was alert. He watched everything with the wary gaze of an animal unsure if they were predator or prey. Grillby did his best to show the child that he didn't have to be either anymore, but it was a long, slow process.
Making a space that the boy felt comfortable in had gone a long way towards those ends. So had offerings of food, though those came with their own complications. It was all too clear that the brothers hadn't had enough to eat out there in the woods. Starvation had left 2-P weak and brittle. So it was only natural that he all but attacked any meal he was offered, yet the boy always stopped himself before he was done. He didn't seem to believe Grillby when the elemental told him that he didn't have to save anything for the next day. The concept that food would always be provided to him, that he could even ask for more if he wanted it, was just too much for him to take in. He still hid some away, sneaking scraps into the pockets of his clothing and stashing them under the bed when he thought the elemental couldn't see. Sometimes he would marvel at a new texture or flavor, forgetting to be cautious for just a little while and letting himself act like the child he truly was. And sometimes, his thoughts would stray and he would stare down at his plate in silence, overcome by a flood of sadness that he could not contain. Times like that, he would prowl the apartment as if searching for the sibling he knew he would not find.
2-P had been in such awful shape when he'd first been found. Only, he hadn't truly been found. Grillby had examined the event in his mind a hundred times since then, and he knew that the appearance of both creature and child behind his bar that night had been no act of coincidence. 1-S had delivered his brother to this place, sick and starving to the point where he was on the verge of falling down and never getting back up again. He'd cried into the dark with that terrible, shattered howl, calling for help from any who would hear. From him.
“You need a name,” he told the child as he washed dishes in the kitchen sink, his arms wrapped in sturdy gloves that went up past the elbow. He didn't have to look to know that the boy was watching him. He could practically feel that intense stare following his movements.
“2-P,” came the measured response, pronunciation precise in the way only something one has been forced to memorize and repeat countless times ever is.
“No, I mean … “ 'A proper name,' the elemental thought, though he stopped himself from actually saying the words out loud. He didn't want to make this poor child think he was wrong for referring to himself with the only designation he'd ever known. “A new name.”
“Why?” the boy asked. He inched closer, accompanied by the sound of skeletal feet tapping lightly against the floor.
“Because you're starting a new life.” He didn't quite know what to call the noise he heard in reply, nor did he know the true meaning behind it, but he could hear enough confusion in that shrill little sound to get a general idea of what it meant. Grillby set the dish he'd been scrubbing on the drying rack and shut off the water. He knelt, waiting patiently as the boy skittered back in fear and remaining still until 2-P once again mustered up enough courage to approach. He looked the child in the eye, radiating a comforting warmth. “You never have to be an experiment or a weapon ever again. You and your brother can still call each other 2-P and 1-S if you want, but - “
“No,” the boy said sharply before he could continue. There was no heat behind his words, only an insistent need to be understood. “We don't say that.”
“What do you call each other then?”
“Brother.”
Grillby waited for the child to continue, but he didn't. Apparently, that was all there was. It made sense in a way. These children had only had each other all this time, their tiny world comprised of the doctor, his assistants, and themselves. What need did they have for real names in that kind of life? Grillby tried not to let the sadness that gripped his soul show.
“Well, I certainly can't call you that, and I'd hate to call you something that reminds you of things you'd rather not think about.”
The boy let out a little whine, the sound undeniably canine despite the fact that he was currently in his two legged form. Though words were hard for him to manage when he wasn't in this shape and the clicking hisses that were his threat warning required a split jaw, most of the other sounds he used to communicate came easily regardless of his appearance. It had been a bit jarring at first, but the elemental was growing used to hearing barks, yips, and trills from his new charge.
“I knew a few skeletons once.” There weren't many around any longer, but many years ago they had been more common. Grillby thought back through the skeletons he'd met and the families they'd talked about. Skeleton monsters could be rather finicky about their names. From what he understood, choosing the right name had a lot to do with one's voice, and it wasn't uncommon for skeleton parents to refer to their children by nicknames until they were old enough to start babbling. 2-P's voice, in the few times he'd been brave enough to speak his mind, had proved to be expressive and very distinct. He may have been soft spoken and even reserved, but that seemed to be due to nervousness rather than nature. As he slowly became more relaxed in his new surroundings, the elemental caught glimpses of a kind, friendly, and optimistic personality struggling to emerge from the lifetime of torment that had buried it. The child deserved a name that reflected that potential. “Once I met a man named Papyrus. He said it was a good, traditional skeleton name. Do you like it?”
The boy thought for a moment, his hands coming together as nervous fingers tapped out a discordant rhythm. “But … is his name.”
“I don't think he'd mind if you wanted it to be yours too. He sounded a bit like you do, only louder.”
The man in question had been a boisterous individual, prone to long winded stories told with breathless excitement. Grillby hadn't known him long, but had enjoyed his friendly nature and cheerful optimism. He'd had a certain way about him, an inflection to his tone that made everything he said seem grand and glorious, and sometimes the elemental could hear a hint of that same quality in 2-P. Besides, he had a sneaking suspicion that the child might take more willingly to a name that began with the letter he was already accustomed to.
“Papyrus,” the boy said, testing out the word. The syllables rolled easily along the natural trill and timbre of his voice. His skeletal grin softened into something more genuine. “I like it.”
“Then it's yours.”
Grillby half expected the child to protest the ease of such a decision, but happiness let him put caution aside at least for the time being. “Can brother have a name too?”
The elemental's soul clenched with something both hurt and hopeful. “Would you like to choose one for him?” he asked, knowing that he'd never choose the right name on his own. He didn't know what the other kid's voice was like. Actually, given the damage he'd seen and the awful, broken way the child had howled, he wasn't sure if the other skeleton had much of a voice left.
The boy now called Papyrus hummed to himself, head tilting to the side as he thought. “No,” he said at last. “He choose.”
Grillby chuckled faintly. He was about to correct the child's improvised grammar when there was a sudden knock at the door. Papyrus vanished in a flash, darting away almost too fast to be seen. Grillby knew just where to look though, and quickly found him huddling behind the couch. That had become one of his 'safe zones' where he could hide from anything causing him distress. The list of things he hid from was very long indeed, and towards the top of that list was 'visitors'. It wasn't as if the fire monster ever had that much in the way of company, but the Snowdin royal guard had all passed through his home at one point or another over the past few days. Papyrus wasn't exactly comfortable with the dogs, but he'd seen them enough times now to know they meant him no harm. He could even be coaxed out to interact with them once given enough time to calm down and acclimate to their presence. Still, he needed that time before he was willing to venture out of his little haven and Grillby wasn't about to rush him. He took off his gloves, placing them neatly by the sink, and went to answer the door.
Dogamy and Dogaressa stood in the shadow of his doorway, a bundle of black cloth held protectively close in the latter's arms. They wore matching grim expressions which tempered with relief at the sight of him. “We found him,” the woman said simply, the sorrow in her tone conveying what words could not. For a heart stopping moment, Grillby was afraid that the child they'd gone to rescue had died and all they had brought back was a pile of dust. Then the black cloth she held shifted of its own accord, a ripple of movement beneath it hinting at the shape and form of something very much alive.
A sharp gasp drew his attention and he saw that the boy had crept up silently behind him to investigate. Papyrus trembled, shaking so hard that his small frame clattered, staring up not in surprise but in anguish. A high pitched whine tumbled from him, quiet and keening. The bundled figure in Dogaressa's arm twitched in response. A pale, bony muzzle tied shut with stark white bandages poked out from the folds of thick, black cloth. Papyrus let out a startled yip, the sound quickly morphing into a deep growl that reverberated through his ribs. He changed, effortlessly dropping to all fours as his spine lengthened and his joints popped into a new configuration, until he could bare sharp fangs and brandish wicked claws. He crouched as if ready to pounce, growling and hissing at the guards.
“It's alright pup,” Dogamy said as soothingly as he could, following up the words with a few soft barks. “We brought him back, he won't be taken away from you again.”
The reassurances did nothing to calm the skeletal child. Papyrus let out another clicking hiss, little sparks of light leaping from his mouth as magic sputtered inside him. Hearing his distress, the other child began to struggle. A faint scraping sound rumbled behind his teeth, the attempted response cut off with a choking cough.
Dogaressa adjusted her grip, clearly fearful of dropping the small creature. “I should put him down.”
“Yes, I think so,” the flame agreed readily. Not only would it hopefully calm Papyrus, but some part of the elemental was all but desperate to see the new arrival himself. No, not just see him, to help him. To care for this beast-child as if he was his own even though neither he nor Papyrus truly was. Grillby chalked it up to the gnawing guilt that had plagued him ever since 1-S had been lost to them. This was his too long awaited chance to try and make things right.
The fire elemental led them to the room that had been set up for the kids to stay in. He'd quickly discovered that, while Papyrus did enjoy the soft surface and warm blankets of his bed, he didn't care much for the way they'd been arranged. The once smooth bedding had been quickly puled free and tangled into a nest which the young skeleton would bury himself beneath to rest. So, with that in mind, the elemental removed the blanket from the second bed and gathered the sheet into a cozy mound in the center of the mattress. Dogaressa, who had been following close behind him, carefully laid the rescued child down and unwrapped him from the dark material of her cloak.
Papyrus darted past, weaving between the older monsters' legs with the grace and speed of a predator, and leapt up onto the bed to stand over his sibling. He turned to face the dogs, paws braced and spine arched, and let out a threatening growl that even Grillby could understand. No one would be touching his brother without his permission.
Dogaressa held her hands out in a show of peace, her mate slowly approaching with a similar gesture. “Calm down little pup. We're not going to hurt anyone, we just want to make sure he's comfortable.”
The boy responded with a clicking hiss that spat sparks. His brother was hurt, bandaged and weak and smelling so strongly of foreign magic and chemicals that even the fire elemental was aware of it. That had flipped a switch in Papyrus, banishing the curious, cautious little boy Grillby had been getting to know and calling back the dangerous beast. Dark blue and orange light flickered madly in his eye sockets.
“They only want to help,” Grillby said as he edged closer, letting his warm glow precede him. “They rescued him.”
But the child wasn't in the mood to listen. He let out another hiss and snapped his jaws shut so fast that they clacked painfully together.
Grillby knelt on the floor beside the bed. “Papyrus, do you trust me?” he asked as calmly as he could.
Papyrus hesitated, drawn to the newly chosen name as much as the monster who’d given it to him. He growled, gaze flicking from person to person, tense frame rattling faintly. The elemental could all but see the proverbial gears turning as he struggled to resolve what his instincts told him and what he believed to be true. Eventually, his expression softened and he answered with a barely discernible nod.
“Will you let me help him?”
Another little nod, this one clearer than the last. He hunched a bit lower, curving his spine over the prone body of his sibling. There would be no moving him, not that Grillby wanted to try, but at least now the fire monster's presence was permitted.
It was a bit difficult to study the new arrival with Papyrus in the way, but Grillby peered around his long, skeletal form to see the figure lying beneath him. The two were remarkably similar, but not, as the elemental had previously assumed, identical in this form. Papyrus was a bit longer, a bit taller, his muzzle more pronounced. The crest of his skull curved in a different way, points arcing slightly inward rather than back. He thought the boy's eye sockets might be different as well, more narrowed while those belonging to the creature he'd first seen behind the bar were wider, but that was a comparison that he couldn't accurately make just yet because those wide eyes were shut tight.
A bandage wound around the second skeleton's skull, concealing almost half of his face from view. Another was tied around his ribs, holding them in alignment even as his chest rose and fell in jerky, uneven breaths. A black collar stood out in sharp contrast to the white bandages which covered his neck. Grillby had seen the soft wrappings around his muzzle already, but he was surprised to find similar ties pinning his limbs together in pairs, bound tight from wrists to knees. He'd barely managed the lightest touch when the child jerked violently away from him. His one visible eye socket opened wide, the light that resided in it constrained to a pinprick and burning bright as a distant star. Papyrus snapped his teeth in the elemental's direction, the distance between them more than enough to prove the action had no harmful intent, and hissed to make his displeasure known.
“It's alright,” Grillby whispered to the pair, “everything's going to be alright.”
He tried again, inching his hand forward so that they could both track his movements. The wounded creature still flinched at his touch, trembling and letting out a warped little sound of distress, but did not pull away as a warm palm brushed against his muzzle. Grillby carefully pulled at the thick wrapping.
“That might be a bad idea,” Dogamy cautioned, looking more than a little twitchy himself. “We took it off before but he wouldn't stop trying to bite everyone.”
“Thank you for your concern,” Grillby replied in a tone that made it sound more like a counter argument than actual gratitude. He unwound the material, loosening the bonds until he could slide the entire thing free. Before he could retreat, the creature latched onto his hand. Small, sharp teeth dug into solid flames. His first instinct, as it was with most things, was heat. The elemental's magic surged in his soul, ready and waiting to direct a blaze of power to the affected limb. He could burn so hot, so bright, that nothing would dare touch him. Grillby restrained that power, drawing heat away from his hands rather than letting it flood into them. The very last thing he wanted to do was burn the poor thing and lose what fragile trust he'd built up with the pair. The only unfortunate part was, that left him trapped until the skeletal child decided to let him go. The dogs, hovering anxiously as if torn about the idea of prying the creature off of him, at least had the courtesy not to say 'I tried to warn you', even if he wouldn't have begrudged them a bit of gloating.
Papyrus let out a soft, worried whimper, his gaze flicking from Grillby to his brother and then back again. He trilled to his sibling, the sound as sweet and musical as a bird's song. When his efforts earned him a muffled hiss of a reply, he tried again. He dipped his head, nudging his sibling's tied legs with the end of his muzzle, and crooned to him with a low, imploring call. The creature's white hot gaze flickered. He whined softly, a tattered kind of sound, and his mouth dropped open. Grillby gingerly removed his hand. Small holes adorned his fiery skin. The wounds were already filling in, a simple thing to accomplish as they'd caused no serious damage, yet he couldn't deny that the bite had stung quite a bit. Dogaressa and Dogamy moved to check the injury but he waved them off. There were more pressing matters to focus on.
Wisps of pale smoke escaped the child's muzzle. Traces of ash stained his teeth. His breath came in ragged pants that sent little jolts along his frame. Slowly, his head tilted to the side as the white pin light of his eye roamed between the assembled monsters. His wary gaze stayed on them even as he lowered his head, closing his mouth around the delicate looking joints of one of his forelegs. Fangs scraped over bone, idly gnawing like a trapped animal seriously considering chewing its own foot off.
Whining in distress at the self-destructive behavior, Papyrus carefully maneuvered around his brother. He pawed gently at the other child's skull and pressed his snout to the edge of his jaw, gingerly nudging him until his fangs had been pried free. That single, seeking light slid over to him, widening into a glowing white disk. The boy called 1-S let out a muted sound, all regret and relief and wordless questions, that Grillby had no name for. Papyrus returned it, just as mysterious and meaningful. He stepped around his sibling, slinking and circling until he found enough space to wedge himself between his brother and he headboard. He changed just as fluidly, reaching forward with paws that became hands before they connected with gentle, careful touches.
With 1-S now distracted, Grillby reached for the wrappings tying the child's legs only to find a broad paw blocking him. “You really should leave those for now,” Dogamy cautioned, his tone stern and sad. “We tied them ourselves. They're padded and shouldn't be too uncomfortable.”
“But why? Surely he won't try to run.” If that was even possible in his condition. While the fire monster knew that such a thing would be dangerous and should be prevented lest the boy aggravate his injuries or, even worse, run into one of the townspeople still paranoid about wild, magic infused animals prowling the forest, he still didn't like the idea of leaving him bound this way. These children were not his prisoners and they didn't deserve to be treated as such.
“Because he nearly hurt himself one too many times.” Dogamy sighed deeply. It was clear that he too regretted binding the child that way, but he saw no other safe options. “Hopefully he'll calm down soon and they can be removed, but until then this is for his safety, not ours.”
Papyrus cast a cautious glance up at the dogs. Despite the smaller, more harmless seeming shape he'd taken on, he was no less wild. It was impossible to look at him and not know he was something more than an ordinary monster. “You helped?” he questioned, a soft growl underscoring his words.
“We tried.” Dogaressa took her mate's hand in her own, a deep sadness clinging to the both of them.
“T-the man.” The small skeleton's voice wavered, fear eclipsing his protective ferocity. “Tall man … “
The woman knew what he meant, and anger flashed in her eyes at the mere mention of the doctor. “He was sent away. The king will punish him for what he did, and he'll never get his hands on either of you again.” Her words carried with them and unspoken promise. If justice failed them and Gaster tried to reclaim these children, she would rip him to pieces herself.
Papyrus looked away, once more focusing his attention on the sibling that had been stolen from him. Grillby didn't understand the sounds he made, and judging by how alien and strange they were he wasn't sure if the guards could either, but there was a gratitude in them that transcended the confines of language. He sat against the headboard, his sibling's head cradled in his lap, and curled over the other boy, shielding him from view and harm. One hand shook as it ghosted over the bandaged skull of his brother. His other arm was flung over the creature's shoulder in an awkward embrace. The boy trilled, soft and sad. He leaned a bit closer, delicately pressing his skull to his sibling's in a gentle nuzzle, tears falling onto bone with a near silent splash.
“Let's give them some space,” Grillby said, already starting to herd his guests out of the room. He turned on a small lamp and flicked off the overhead light, plunging the room into the sort of cool shadow that Papyrus seemed most at ease with. The dim light caught on pale white bone, making the two small figures stand out despite the darkness. There was more to be done, wounds to tend to, trust to earn, and Papyrus should take another dose of medicine before the evening was done to make sure his illness was kept at bay, but for the time being he suspected that the best thing for both boys would be time spent together in the calm quiet of this safe place.
The adults retreated to the living room, Dogaressa and Dogamy gratefully accepting the invitation to sit a while on the couch. They looked weary in a way that went straight through to the soul. The elemental offered to make them tea or coffee, but both canines politely refused.
“What happened?” he asked at last, unable to put off the unpleasant topic any longer. It had only been a few days since the child had been taken from them, and to see him returned in such a state was troubling.
Husband and wife exchanged a meaningful glance. This information was no doubt tied into a very sensitive investigation, but luckily they seemed to agree that he was trustworthy enough to hear it. “We're not that clear on the details but … does the word 'determination' mean anything to you?”
Grillby tensed, flames popping and crackling as little ashen sparks drifted into the air around him. “Why do you ask?” he questioned, knowing his reaction made it all too clear that he knew what they were referring to.
“Doctor Gaster did something to his soul.” Dogaressa shuddered in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. Her hands clenched into tight fists that did not stop trembling even when her mate laid his own gently over them. “We don't know what, but whatever it was, it had something to do with Determination. His health is very low and nothing we tried could restore it. Healing magic won't work either, his body and magic are too contaminated.”
The last word was all but spat out, as if it too were poisonous. There was a faint crackling sound as the elemental cursed in a way few could hear and fewer could understand. Enough Determination to stain his magic and soul but not so much that his body melted away. Grillby didn't pretend to know the finer points of the substance, but he'd heard enough to know that was a delicate balance to achieve. It would have been impressive had the man responsible not been playing with an innocent child's life. At least 1-S had survived it. With time, patience, and care, his condition was bound to improve.
“I'll take care of him,” he said, solemn as an oath.
“Thank you.” A fraction of the weight she carried with her seemed to lift from Dogaressa's shoulders. “The collar's been mostly deactivated, but we didn't want to risk hurting him further by trying to remove it just yet. And his ribs were cut open, so don't go moving him unless you have to.”
Not broken, but cut. Deliberate. Intentional. “And his eye?” Grillby managed to ask, though even voicing the question left him feeling faintly ill.
Dogamy shook his head slowly. “We don't know yet.”
“Maybe, once he's recovered some, we can try taking him to a healer again. Or perhaps have someone come here.” Once the child's system stabilized and the 'contamination' was dealt with, the elemental hoped that a skilled healer might be able to fix what the doctor had broken.
A hint of a smile returned to the canine's face. “Are you sure you'll be alright having both of them here?”
“They can stay as long as they need or want to. I've got the room and Papyrus has been very well behaved so far.” Perhaps too well behaved, if he was being honest. The little skeleton didn't ask for much, had yet to demand his time or attention, and he didn't even play. Grillby had to wonder if he even knew how to.
“Papyrus?” Dogaressa asked, raising a furry brow ridge. The guards must have heard him call the boy that earlier, but they had all been too busy to really make note of it.
Grillby's flame burnt slightly hotter, embarrassment coloring his face a deeper red. “He needed a real name.”
“I think you're right,” she said, approval brightening her tone at last. The dogs stood and she reached out to take his hand. “Let us know the moment you need anything.”
“I will,” he promised, the knot of tension that had resided in his chest loosening as the reality of what had occurred set in. “And I'll let you know when they're feeling up for visitors.” He knew that Dogaressa and Dogamy would be eager to see the children once they'd settled, even if he feared it might take them quite some time to accept their company. They had a lot of healing to do in every sense of the word, and he wasn't even sure if Papyrus would be able to convince his brother than he only wanted to help. This would not be a simple matter, Grillby had no delusions about that, but it was worth the effort.
Once the guards said their goodbyes and left, the apartment was once again quiet and still. The elemental wanted to go check on the boys, but he knew better than to barge in just yet. Instead, he stood just outside the door and listened to the soft, lyrical trills coming from the bed. The children were together and safe and whole at last. And to his surprise, he found that he would do anything to keep it that way.
There was the softest chime of metal as the coin fell from the small outstretched hand. The all-too familiar stench of cordite lingered in the air as Kincaid stared down at the body on the ground before him.
"I'm sorry it had to come to this." he sighed, slipping the Sig-Sauer back into his holster. "Someone had to it, and it might as well have been me."
His brow furrowed as the body jerked slightly, the mouth moving with pleading but silent words on the lips.
"No, there's nothing I can do. I was lucky enough to get this shot as it is."
He ignored the gurgle, falling into the practiced motions of cleaning the scene of his presence. He pulled his leg out of the way effortlessly when the weakened fingers gripped his pant leg.
Kincaid turned to step away from the growing pool of blood, stopping only to bend down and picked up the tarnished piece of silver, examining it for a moment.
"I'm sorry, Karrin. There was no way you would have been able to handle this much power."
