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itsladykit · 2 years

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Summary: Blackberry is not handling this well.

CW in the endnotes on AO3. It was a little more spoilery than my usual content warnings.

Blackberry was a mess.

It felt like his soul had been hollowed out and a hot coal placed at its center. Mana dripped like magma from its heart, burning his bones down to the marrow. He couldn’t dismiss it and, worse, his ectobody threatened to manifest as well—a symptom absolutely no one had warned him about. He curled around his core, trying to hold himself together and trying not to make a mess on Papyrus and Blue’s couch.

Some horror movie or another played on the tv, but he’d lost the plot long ago. Blue sat near him, but as promised, didn’t touch, and Papyrus loomed nearby. He seemed incapable of sitting for any length of time and was currently rearranging the books on his shelf. Again.

Blackberry wanted nothing more than to haul Papyrus back onto the couch and pull them both close. His soul seemed to reach for them, pulling toward them like a magnet. He could sense every step Papyrus took, every move Blue made, and it made his soul burn hotter. Every moment Papyrus wasn’t settled beside him on the couch, every time Blue adjusted his position to maintain that careful distance between them, it felt like a personal rejection and his soul burned hotter still.

He knew that wasn’t true, knew that he’d asked them to keep their distance. Despite the growing ache in his soul, he was glad they kept their promise and stayed away. Because he knew his soul wouldn’t be satisfied with just their presence or their touch. His stupid, traitorous soul would need more. The simple need for companionship would twist and reshape itself into something else, something awful. Any indulgence—even the yearning for something sweet, for something soft—felt like it could cause his soul to betray him fully.

So he denied himself completely.

A particularly intense wave of heat caused him to groan and curl into an even tighter ball. Blue paused the movie. “Blackberry, are you sure you don’t want some blankets? Making a nest—“

“I’m not making anything!” he snapped, little claws pricking the towel he’d insisted they lay out on the couch.

Blue glanced back at Papyrus. “Okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, but you might be more comfortable if you—“

“Nothing is going to make me comfortable with this,” he moaned. He shut his sockets, so he didn’t have to see them exchange a look. He’d gotten very tired of them giving each other knowing looks.

“Okay,” Blue said. “If you change your mind, just let us know.”

Blackberry didn’t think anything would change his mind. He didn’t want blankets. He didn’t want anyone to touch him. He didn’t want to summon his ectobody or give in to the persistent craving for something sweet. He didn’t want to do anything that might make things easier or make him more comfortable. He didn’t want this, wanted no part of it, and any concession to his soul’s desires felt too much like encouragement. And a further step down a path he had no desire to travel.

So he stayed curled into a ball, shivering at the press of too-cool air against his bones.

Before Blue could get the movie playing again, Papyrus’ phone started to ring. “OH. ITS TWISTED-ME. I’LL TAKE IT IN THE KITCHEN.”

Blackberry could at least be grateful for that bit of consideration. Beside him, Blue sat staring at the remote, toying with the buttons. “We’re supposed to be taking care of you. You can’t be comfortable like that. Are you sure there’s nothing we can do?”

He resisted the urge to snap at him. Blue was trying his best, and Blackberry wasn’t being a very gracious guest. “…there really isn’t any kind of medication to stop this?”

“No. It’s part of your soul’s core being. Mana blockers might work for a fleshy monster, but only temporarily, and we’re skeletons—we’d fall to pieces if we tried. There’s nothing.”

“There has to be something,” he said, hands clenched so he didn’t claw at his ribcage. “On the black market, maybe?” He wracked his brain, trying to think of something that could put him down for a week without killing him or getting him hopelessly addicted.

Blue made a strange, strangled sound. “I’m not—stars above, I’m not supplying you with illegal drugs!”

“Then what good are you?” His brother would. But he’d have to know what kind and what dosage. And he’d need a new minder.

“I—that’s hardly fair. You won’t let us help you—“

“I don’t want your kind of ‘help’!”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t—“ Blue made an exasperated sound. “I wasn’t offering that kind of help! I just asked if you wanted a blanket—stars!” He threw himself against the back of the couch, arms crossed.

Blackberry desperately wanted to crawl across the couch and rest his head in his lap, wanted to curl around him like a cat and just be close. His soul cramped again, as if punishing him for resisting. He clenched his fists, biting back a pained moan. As the cramp faded, he became aware of the silence stretching between them. Then a burst of inspiration struck. “Cold medicine.”

“What?”

“Cold medicine. It’s not illegal, and it would probably be safe to use until this is over. The nighttime formulation would probably knock me out—“

“What?” Blue stared at him with comically wide sockets before running a hand down his face. “Can’t you just give the blanket nest a try? It will help, and it would be safer than drugging yourself unconscious.”

Blackberry struggled to his feet, swaying from side to side as his did. His soul roiled, and his perpetual wooziness threatened to blossom into nausea. “I’m calling Papy. This isn’t working. I’m asking him to take me home, and-and we’ll figure something out. I can’t stay here.” They were too tempting and Papyrus didn’t seem any more likely to get him cold medicine. Papy would, though, if Blackberry needed it.

“I’M AFRAID THAT’S NOT AN OPTION.”

Stumbling slightly, Blackberry turned to face him. “What? Why? Did something happen? Is he okay? Did Ella—?” He put a hand out, catching himself on the arm of the couch as the world tilted. Bile rose in the back of his throat, but he managed to swallow it back, choking.

Papyrus stepped into the room and reached out to steady him. Blackberry tried to jerk away, but it only caused him to stumble. “EVERYTHING IS FINE,” he said, backing away from Blackberry as he remembered himself. “CASH AND SLIM WENT INTO HEAT AND TWIST IS GOING TO MIND THEM. BUT YOU CAN UNDERSTAND WHY YOU PROBABLY DON’T WANT TO INTERRUPT THEM RIGHT NOW.”

Blackberry froze, though he couldn’t stop his bones from rattling. “He—what?”

“ITS OKAY. IF YOU REALLY DON’T WANT TO STAY HERE, WE’LL FIND—“

Blackberry jerked away from him, stumbling. “No. They can’t—“ Mana soaked his shirt, causing it to stick to his bones. The smell of cinnamon was thick in his nasal cavity, threatening to choke him again. He shook his head, and another wave of vertigo brought him to the floor, his legs simply folding under him. “He can’t,” he said again, looking up at Papyrus. “We have to stop them.”

Papyrus and Blue shared another look, then Papyrus was kneeling next to him. “‘BERRY, I’D LIKE TO TAKE YOUR TEMPERATURE. I’M CONCERNED THAT YOU’RE OVERHEATING.”

The world still seemed uneasy on its axis, but he felt steadier sitting down. Papyrus pressed a hand to his forehead, and Blackberry inhaled sharply. His hand felt cool and comforting. He wanted to lean in, but knew he shouldn’t, though he couldn’t quite remember why. Before he could fully commit one way of the other, his body decided for him. Mana flooded his mouth, and he gagged, leaning away to retch.

“OH, DEAR.”

“sorry,” he mumbled. “I c’n clean it up.” A shudder wracked him, and he realized, “Oh. She’s going to be so mad. I haven’t even started the dough yet.”

Cool hands scooped him up—one under his knees, the other supporting his neck—and cradled him against a bony chest. “DON’T WORRY ABOUT THAT. LET’S JUST GET YOU TO THE BATHROOM, OKAY?”

(“Nah, bro. Don’ worry ‘bout that. Yer too sick ta work taday. Le’s jus’ getcha ta the bathroom, yeah?”)

“She’ll be mad,” he moaned into his brother’s chest.

“NO ONE IS GOING TO BE MAD AT YOU. EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE JUST FINE.”

(“I’ll talk ta her, sweetheart. It’ll be fine. I’ll take care ‘a it. Just worry ‘bout getting’ better.”)

Papy set him down in the bathroom, near the toilet. “DO YOU STILL FEEL SICK?”

Miserable, he nodded, opening the lid so he could retch again. A cool hand rubbed his back, running up and down his spine and across his ribcage in soothing circles. Subtle projections of / peace / care / affection / comfort / emanated from the figure at his side. (“‘S okay, little bro. Let it out. You’ll feel better afterwards.”)

He wiped the spoilt mana from his mouth and leaned against his brother. “Don’ tell her,” he said, “I c’n work the counter. ‘S fine. ‘M fine.” He tried to stand, but Papy held him in place.

“JUST STAY HERE.” He continued to rub his back, and the nausea started to fade as his soul settled. Sans’ sockets slid shut, and he pressed his skull into Papy’s shoulder, taking comfort in his brother’s presence even though he knew he couldn’t stay like this. Muffet would only get angrier the longer he took to begin work.

“Everythin’ll be fine, Sans. I’ll take care ‘a her. Tolja. Jus’ stay here.”

The circles stopped as Papy instead draped his arm over Sans’ shoulders, tucking him protectively into his side. Sans only wished he could trust the sense of safety that enveloped him. “She’s gonna hurtcha. I don’ wan’ ya ta get hurt ‘cause ‘a me.”

“No one’s gonna get hurt, bro. It’ll be fine. Jus’ lemme—“

“You always say that.”

“Say what, darlin’?”

“That yer fine, even when yer not. She hurts you. I know she does. Even if she don’t leave marks where I c’n see all the time. I c’n tell. ‘M not stupid.”

Papy ran a hand over Sans’ coronal suture, and he pressed into the contact. It felt like the fever was being siphoned away wherever he touched, leaving a cool trail in his wake. “No one thinks yer stupid, darlin’. ‘M sayin’ it fer me much as I’m sayin’ it fer you.”

Sans’ sockets cracked open. “How’m I s’ppossed ta know ya really are okay, then? Yer always lyin’ ‘bout her. How do I know yer not lyin’ ‘bout them too? How do I know ya really want….” He trailed off as he remembered. “Oh. You’re not Papy, are you?”

“NO. I’M NOT YOUR BROTHER, BUT I AM YOUR FRIEND. HIS TOO.”

“Oh.” He looked up, but still, he could only see his brother’s face. Not as he was now, but how he looked before. “D’ya know…he used ta look exactly like you when we were younger. Exactly.” He leaned against the skeleton that was not his brother. “She used ta say he was pretty. All the time. Told ‘im he was lucky he was so pretty.” He shivered. “Didn’ seem lucky ta me.”

The hand on his back stuttered in its soothing circles. It resumed after a beat. “This was your Muffet?” he asked, voice soft.

Blackberry nodded. “Yeah. She’s here, now. On the Surface.” He paused, remembering. “You saw her, didn’t you?”

The skeleton—Papyrus, but not his Papyrus—nodded. “I did. She…seemed nice. At the time.”

“Uh-huh. That’s how she gets ya. Pretends to be nice, pretends to care. For a while, she is. Ya love her, fer what she’s doin’ for you an’ your brother. First time’s not so bad. She ‘pologizes. Says it won’ happen again…s’long as ya do what she says. You believe her—she was so nice before, an’ it’s not like you have any other options anyway. So ya make excuses for her. You tell yourself she won’t hurt him if you’re good. If you do exactly what she says. But s’not about that. ‘S just about her. And if she wants to hurt him, she’ll find a reason for it. She always does.” He looped his arms over his knees. “By the time you realize how bad it really is, you’re in her web, and you don’t even know how to get out anymore.”

He looked up at Papyrus, who was now frozen in place. “Stay away from her, okay? She’ll want to break you too, the same way she broke Papy.”

Papyrus stared down at him. “I…see. No—“ He cleared his throat. “No one is going to be breaking anyone. Not up here. You’re safe now. We won’t let her hurt you or—“

He shook his head, leaning against Papyrus’ side. “You don’t get it. She never hurt me. Never even touched me. It was always Papy.” He pressed closer, feeling the marrow-deep burning leech away wherever they touched. “I don’t understand. If he could protect me…then why didn’t he protect himself?”

Papyrus’ arm lowered over his shoulders. Blackberry tilted his head back, to get more contact along his neck. “I…I’m afraid I couldn’t really say. That seems like something you’ll have to ask Twisted-Me. When you’re feeling better, that is.”

He blinked. “I don’t think I’m in heat,” he said, “I think I’m just sick. ‘Cause yer touchin’ me an’ it feels nice, but I still don’t want anything else from you.”

“You are most definitely in heat—I don’t know of any illness that would cause your soul to manifest. But it’s not surprising that you’re not feeling particularly amorous. Maybe you just don’t feel that way about other people.”

“…so, it’s not going to get worse if I let you touch me? I’m not going to start feeling…that?”

“I…I wish I could give you a definitive answer, but I can’t. You might or you might not. I don’t know. But whatever you end up feeling, you just need to know that you’re safe here. No one is going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Though…I might have to insist you take some blankets. I think you started to overheat because we weren’t properly tending to you.”

He drew his knees closer. “I don’t want to feel that way. Ever. About anyone.”

Papyrus rested a hand on top of his skull, and Blackberry couldn’t repress a relieved sigh. “You know that those feelings aren’t bad, right?”

“…they’re not good,” he said.

“But they’re not bad,” Papyrus insisted carefully, “There’s nothing wrong with feeling those things. They don’t make you a bad person and they don’t make you do bad things.”

“They make you want to do bad things. They make you think it’s okay when someone does something bad to you.”

“That’s…that’s not true. You know that’s not true. Don’t you?”

He sniffed. “I know I’ve only ever seen people get hurt.”

“…What about Edgy-Me and Lazy-Me?”

Blackberry didn’t reply at first. The truth was, he hadn’t ever really thought about their home life. “Maybe they don’t want to do that either. You don’t know.”

Papyrus sighed, scooping him up again. “Undyne and Alphys.”

“Which ones?”

“Any of them.”

He shrugged, unwilling to engage with that line of thinking. “I don’t know them well enough.”

Papyrus set him down amidst a froth of blankets that had appeared on the couch in the time they’d been gone. Papyrus himself knelt in front of the couch, one hand still cupping the back of Blackberry’s neck. “Okay. Sans and Razz.”

“Razz is definitely hurting Sans. I’m shocked you’ve allowed it to continue for so long.”

Papyrus ran a hand down his face, sighing. “I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START WITH THAT SENTIMENT. AND I DON’T THINK WE’RE GOING TO GET ANYWHERE TODAY, SO WHY DON’T WE TALK ABOUT YOUR HEAT PLAN GOING FORWARD. WE CAN’T LET YOU OVERHEAT AGAIN, WHICH MEANS WE NEED TO MAKE SURE YOUR NEEDS ARE BEING MET. SO—WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

He curled in on himself again, pulling away from him. The blistering heat immediately began to build along his spine. “I don’t want—“

“BERRY, PLEASE. WHAT DO YOU WANT? IF IT’S SOMETHING YOU WANT BUT FEEL YOU CAN’T HAVE OR SHOULDN’T DO, THEN WE’LL WORK AROUND THAT AND FIND A SUBSTITUTE. BUT WE NEED TO KNOW WHAT YOU WANT.”

Blackberry trembled in the nest of blankets, tugging at them. “Nothing.” He curled in on himself and added, “I don’t want this.”

Papyrus sighed, something sad in his eyelights. “ALRIGHT. I UNDERSTAND. WE’LL JUST HAVE TO MAKE SURE YOU HAVE WHAT YOU NEED, THEN.”

He grabbed Papyrus’ hand when he went to stand up, soul hammering as his fear reignited. “What does that—? What do you mean?”

Papyrus leaned down and pressed their foreheads together, strong projections of / COMFORT / CARE / PROTECTION / emanating from his soul. “WELL. MORE PILLOWS TO START,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet his eyelights. “FRESH CLOTHING IF YOU’RE READY FOR IT. FOOD. SOMETHING SWEET, MAYBE—AH, YES, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYELIGHTS!” The corners of his sockets crinkled as he straightened, but the sadness in his smile didn’t fade. “SMALL TOUCHES. LIKE THIS.” He squeezed his hand. “OR A HUG. WE WILL BE RESPECTFUL, BUT WE CAN’T LET YOUR SOUL OVERHEAT. DOES ANY OF THAT CROSS A LINE FOR YOU? DOES ANY OF IT SOUND BAD?”

“…will you stop when I say so?”

“YES. WE’LL STOP IF YOU NEED US TO STOP. SAY ‘SNOWPOFF’ AND WE’LL KNOW IT’S TOO MUCH—CAN YOU DO THAT?”

“Why not just ‘stop’?”

Papyrus crossed his arms, one hand propped under his chin. His voice softened as he said, “You weren’t with us for a little while there. You were somewhere else. If you say ‘snowpoff’, we’ll know you’re with us, and we need to stop.”

Blackberry nodded, understanding. He rubbed his humerus, faintly embarrassed though he couldn’t say why. “And if I’m not ‘with you’?”

“If you’re that far gone, we need to bring you back however we can. Sex will never be the solution to that,” he said before Blackberry could start to panic. “But we might have to hold you. Do you understand? Are you okay with that?”

“…no sex. No matter what?”

“No matter what.”

“Even if I tell you I want it?”

“Even then.”

Slowly, Blackberry nodded. “Okay.”

Papyrus offered him a beaming smile. “EXCELLENT! BLUE?”

Blue immediately appeared from wherever he’d been eavesdropping, arms full of pillows. “Thank the stars,” he murmured, “I didn’t think I could take that for much longer. Do you have any idea how hard it was to see you like that and not do anything to help?” He piled the pillows around Blackberry, then met his sockets. “Can I sit in your nest with you?”

For whatever reason, the question made his soul twinge. He bowed forward, one hand pressed to his chest, the other flailing. Blue caught it and held steady. Blackberry found himself gripping his hand like a lifeline as he waited for the deepening cramp to pass. “Okay,“ he rasped, “but—"

“No funny business. I know. We won’t.” He settled amongst the blankets beside him, holding his arms out to telegraph his intention to hug him. Carefully, checking with Blackberry at each step, he folded his arms around him and set his chin on Blackberry’s shoulder, his hold tight and secure. “Thank you for trusting us to help you. We won’t let you down.”

The ache in his soul eased and something loosened in his chest, like a blossom opening. A shock of panic made him tense as he waited for unwanted feelings to emerge, but his desires didn’t change. He relaxed into the hug, allowing himself to hold Blue in turn. The searing heat in his marrow mellowed to mere warmth, and the last vestiges of the cramp faded away. “Stars above,” Blue said, still holding him, “how did you manage to go without touching anyone for most of a day? You had to be miserable. C’mon, now.” He pulled back, but didn’t fully release him, still resting a hand on the back of his neck. “Let’s get your nest sorted out.”

He started to fluff the pillows and rearrange the blankets, and as he did, Blackberry realized that they were all wrong. He started to tug them into place, and Papyrus sighed in relief, watching them. “WELL, I HAVE AN ERRAND TO RUN. I’LL BRING BACK DONUTS…?” He eyed Blackberry as he said this.

Too distracted to notice the obvious fishing, Blackberry said, “And cinnamon rolls?”

A full smile broke across his face. “AND CINNAMON ROLLS. IF YOU WANT ANYTHING ELSE, JUST GIVE ME A CALL.” He held his hand out, waiting for Blackberry’s nod before he ran his hand down his coronal suture, gently scratching. Blackberry shut his eyes and allowed himself to savor the contact. And, for the moment, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

#life cycles #my work #twist sans #swap sans #papyrus #heat fic #vomiting #content warning on AO3

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