Week 47 - The Birthdays That Could’ve Been (and Maybe Were)
Creator: me:))
word count: 822
notes:
(Almost) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO CROSS! (Almost) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO CROSS!! (Almost) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO CROOOOOOOOOOOSS!!!!! (Almost) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO CROSS!
yeah- this is a Cross birthday special for his birthday on the 10th.
————————————
Sans sighed, closing the door shut.
It was a rough patrol today, the kid kept running off, people kept pestering him, he was home loads later than normal.
His armor was heavy, he was hot, he was tired, his feet ached. He just wanted to collapse, maybe take a shower, and do nothing for the rest of the day.
The house was dark, which wasn’t abnormal, especially seeing as he was home later than usual, but he had been trained to notice everything.
Slipping a dagger from his sleeve into his hand, he eyed the room carefully as he switched on the lights.
Maybe Papyrus was at a friend's house. His father was in his lab thinking. Maybe they went out for a walk. Maybe they went out looking for him. Maybe they went out for dinner. Maybe the-
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!”
He flinched lifting up the dagger in defense, but he dropped his arm as he saw a crowd of people in his house.
“What…” Sans dissipated the dagger, his hands flying to cover his mouth in disbelief, tears pooling at his eyes.
“Happy birthday, brother!” Papyrus stepped out of the crowd, taking ahold of his brother and lifting him up like a ragdoll.
He looked to everyone, Gaster, the humans, Undyne, Alphys, The King, Queen, and Prince, Mettaton, even Muffet. They were all here.
“It’s your big day, boneheaded!” Undyne was next to step out as he was lifted by his brother and spun around.
“Papyrus!!” He cried, holding tightly onto the others hands for stability.
“Oh come, Dearie, no need to be so surprised. It only happens every year.” Muffet spoke up, giggling with a cake in her hands, the phrase “Happy Birthday Sans” written in pretty font and icing atop the cake. “Isn’t that right, Frisk?”
Said human smiles, giving a thumbs up, standing next to Muffet and holding one of her hands. Chara sighed, rolling his eyes as he went to stand next to his brother.
“Yeah, stop crying “Royal Guard” it’s just a birthday.” Chara groaned, teasing him.
“Shut up, Kid.” Sans responded as his brother set him down, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Watch your words, son.” They looked to Gaster, crossed arms and narrowed eyes.
Sans smiled sheepishly before coughing, a cold, metallic hand slapped into his back. He looked up to see Mettaton mirroring Frisk, giving a stiff thumbs up.
“Now now all,” the deep, soothing voice of Asgore got heads turning. “Let’s not overwhelm him.”
“Happy birthday, my child.” Toriel smiled sweetly, putting a soft hand on his shoulder and giving a kind smile.
There was a warm feeling inside of him, fuzzy and nice. Surrounded by people that cared enough to throw him a party. Homemade cake, over the top decorations, heartfelt gifts, enjoyable activities.
He didn’t cry often, and he didn’t cry a lot that day either. There was no sobbing, no breaking down. Just smiles and laughs, inside jokes and a memorable evening. Though, he would lie if he said there weren’t happy tears when they sang him happy birthday, when he saw the sentimental presents, when they waved goodbye and all of a sudden he was left with a fizzling feeling of warmth and belonging fading from his soul as the commotion and noise and people and activity and everything silenced.
Laying in the bed, the party happened just downstairs. Everyone else asleep and content in their rooms. Cross still sniffled, forever unused to a celebration just for him.
Maybe a memory, maybe a hopeless fantasy, as the celebration continued, his mind wandered to a time. A time before it all. A time back then. A time he couldn’t tell was real or not. Was it part of a timeline? Was it just a dream? Was that a moment a past him had lived? Was that a time his mind made up to cope? He didn’t know.
He was grateful when the Bad Guys threw him that surprise party after his solo mission, he was grateful they handmade the cake despite no one but Horror knowing how to bake, he was grateful they put so much thought into the gifts they got just for him. He was grateful they set up moments where his mind could forget how in another life, this celebration would’ve never been a thing that crossed his mind. How in another life, a scene exactly like this played out. How those other lives were trapped perfectly pristine in his mind and yet he couldn’t differentiate what was real and what were his mind playing tricks on him.
He enjoyed the surprise, he enjoyed the celebration, he enjoyed the cake, he enjoyed the laughter, he enjoyed the gifts, he enjoyed the moment. He enjoyed it, he really did.
But lying awake, still grappling with the fact this was his reality, his mind wandered to the birthdays that could’ve been, or maybe were.
