Tiny Raven

“wouldja smooch your clone?”

Red looked at Mutt over his beer, considering the question. It was rhetorical but …

“which one? got at least three, depending’ on how y’ look ’t us. an’ i’d argue black is ’s much my clone as you are.”

“the one most like you,” Stretch said, stopping the impending argument in its tracks. He wasn’t drunk enough for philosophy. “sans.”

“how th’ fuck am i like him?!”

“y’said yourself that black is as much your clone as mutt. blue, too. ya ain’t a papyrus, so … sans.”

Red grunted in acceptance, then shook his head. “‘course not. He’s an ass.”

“a’ight, so no smooching’, but waddabout a date?” Mutt pressed, leaning forward. Red rolled his eyelights, not deigning to respond.

Mutt’s grin was sharp as he leaned back with a shrug. “s’like i thought, y’ don’t have the guts.”

“an’ what do  i  get if i did go on a date wit’ ‘im? my pride’s worth more’n braggin’ rights for that.”

Mutt’s grin shrank as he considered.

“we could make it more fair,” he said after a moment. “raise the stakes.”

“what ya got in mind?” Stretch asked.

“friendly competition,” Mutt said as he raised his glass with a grin. “we drink. until we can’t anymore. loser is whoever bows out first.”

“an’ whoever loses has t’ hangout with Sans,” Stretch agreed with a nod. “the other two get to mock them until they do it.”

Red didn’t need to beat Stretch to win, he only needed to outdrink Mutt – who was already several drinks in.

He agreed.

He hadn’t realized how outmatched his alcohol tolerance was against the other two.

—Red+Edge—

He felt sick.

Red hadn’t moved after collapsing in bed after his “date” with Sans. His brain cycling through the interaction trying to find anything wrong with the other’s behaviour.

There was nothing.

Sans was … Shy. Soft-spoken. Polite.

If he was putting on a front to gain sympathy, it was very nearly working.

He kept going back to one thing, over and over again.

Whenever the topic shifted to Papyrus, Sans looked sad. His eyelights would shrink and he’d talk a little softer for a few sentences. He only had good things to say about his brother, how proud he was, how hard Pap worked.

“He’s good at it … He’s been working really hard to … Helping people is what he’s best at … I’m proud of him.”

It was … uncomfortably sincere.

The image of Sans in his head was someone cruel. Someone who hurt others and enjoyed it. Someone who got off on manipulating people, taking a sick joy in the other’s pain.

It was directly at odds with the Sans he had spent the afternoon with.

Guilt, marrow deep and all consuming, filled him.

Sans had been polite and kind. Attentive! … even when Red was not.

For all that he told himself that Sans had to be manipulating him somehow …

Sans certainly seemed to have been making an honest attempt to get to know Red better. He’d put more effort into the “date” than Red had, certainly.

Red cursed himself.

He should never have accepted the bet.

He should have accepted defeat. Let Stretch and Mutt mock him for a few weeks.

He should have done anything but what he had done.

The weight of his sins kept him pinned to his mattress and the guilt kept him awake.

He felt sick.

Edge had been worried when Red came home from getting coffee, distracted and upset. He’d assumed it was either the other’s LV or depression acting up. There was no telling when those would pop up and cause problems.

So when Red hadn’t come out of his bedroom for dinner, Edge understood.

But when Edge checked later, none of the leftovers had been eaten.

And now it seemed Red was going to sleep through breakfast.

That just wouldn’t do.

There was a brisk knock at Red’s door, followed by Edge entering without waiting for permission.

Red was laying on his stomach face buried in a pillow. He was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

Edge frowned down at his brother’s back, carefully keeping the concern from his expression or voice.

“WERE YOU PLANNING ON SPENDING ALL DAY IN BED?” Edge asked.

Red growled something that wasn’t quite words, muffled by the pillow. But otherwise he didn’t react.

Edge’s frown deepened and he sat next to Red.

“WHAT’S WRONG,” he asked, tone allowing no argument.

Red stilled, and Edge could almost hear him trying to think of a way out of the conversation.

Another misjudgment on Red’s tab: Edge would be worried if he just never left his room again.

He rolled onto his back, covering his face with his hands.

Ashamed.

“ ‘m an idiot’n an asshole.”

“I AM AWARE,” Edge responded quickly, voice neutral. “THAT DOESN’T ANSWER MY QUESTION.”

Red sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this conversation.

Knowing how disgusted Edge was going to be when he learned what Red had done.

“i’m more’v an idiot when I’m drunk,” Red said. “makes me think bad ideas ‘re good ones.”

Edge waited patiently as Red gathered up more courage. Patience had always been the key to getting the elder brother to talk.

“i tried t’ outdrink mutt. an’ stretch. either-or,” Red explained. “i lost.”

“OF COURSE YOU DID,” Edge said with a sigh. “EVEN IF MUTT DIDN’T CHEAT – WHICH HE LIKELY DID AND YOU ARE AN IDIOT FOR NOT NOTICING – BOTH OF THEM OBVIOUSLY HAVE MUCH HIGHER TOLERANCES THAN YOU. I DON’T BELIEVE I HAVE EVER SEEN MUTT SO MUCH AS TIPSY.

“I’M ALMOST AFRAID TO ASK BUT … WHAT DID YOU HAVE TO DO AS THE LOSER OF THIS BET?”

Red looked away, cheekbones beginning to grow red with shame.

Moment of truth.

“loser had t’ ask Sans out on a date,” he muttered. “that’s where i was yesterday.”

Edge stared at his brother in shock as the words fully sank in.

“THAT … IS A VERY CRUEL PRANK, BROTHER,” he said after a quiet moment. “EVEN FOR YOU.”

Red nodded in agreement, his shoulders hunching as the guilt of disappointing his brother settled on his already overburdened back. 

“BUT … ”

Red startled, skull whipping up to meet Edge’s eyes. He hadn’t expected a ‘but’.

“WE DON’T KNOW WHAT CAUSED THE RIFT BETWEEN SANS AND PAPYRUS. THIS COULD BE AN OPPORTUNITY TO GAIN SOME PERSPECTIVE.”

Red considered it.

Of course he wondered what happened between the Tale brothers. Once it was obvious that they were the outliers, everyone did. If Red kept hanging out with Sans … they could exploit that for more information.

It’s what they would have done back home.

… But they weren’t in Underfell anymore.

Edge shrugged, expression uncertain.

“IT IS UP TO YOU, BROTHER,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet.

Red groaned, dramatic and pitiful, as he fell backward onto the bed. Edge’s non-verdict wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But he supposed he got himself in this mess.

He would have to get himself out.

“NOW, I MUST BE OFF TO WORK AND YOU SHOULD EAT SOMETHING AND TAKE A SHOWER. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SLEPT IN YOUR DIRTY CLOTHES!” Edge offered a hand to help Red to his feet.

Red took his hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with a grunt. He kept himself from snarking back that he hadn’t slept in his clothes.

He hadn’t slept at all.

Edge didn’t need anything else to worry about.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT,” Edge asked as they left Red’s room.

“yeah, boss,” Red answered, the answer leaving him as a sigh. “i will be.”