Dead Giveaway

We Arent Sleeping Anyway

Chara's POV

When we got back home, Mom was waiting for us in the living room. The smell of hot cocoa was thick in the air and a steaming mug of it sat on the coffee table. I slipped my jacket off my shoulders and went to hang it up when Toriel suddenly hugged me tight, making me drop it in shock.

"Chara, my child! You gave us quite a scare when we realized you weren't home! Are you alright?"

I nodded. She sighed in relief.

"Thank heavens. There's a mug of cocoa on the counter for you. I know you like to pour the milk yourself."

"Thanks Mom" Before I could slip away she dropped a towel around my shoulders.

"You're going to be the death of us my girl"

I smiled weakly and padded into the kitchen. I poured my almond milk into the mug of cocoa powder and stuck it in the microwave.

I heard Sans and mom talking in hushed whispers. I just knew it was about me. What else would it be about? Nothing.

Mom came in and hugged me. "I'm going to bed, Chara. You should too. Your siblings must be worried about you"

"I know mom. Goodnight. I love you".

"I love you too, my dear." She glided down the hall to her room.

I pulled my cocoa out of the microwave, gave it a stir, and started towards the living room, but Sans stopped me. He was holding my green flannel pajamas and a pair of clean socks.

"Stay in here and get changed. Toss the wet clothes to the laundry room and then come out here. I don't want you waking up Frisk and Asriel and you're goin straight to bed after we talk"

I rolled my eyes when he turned his back.

I changed into the soft pajamas and carried my mug of cocoa to the living room. Sans was sitting there in his navy blue robe sipping the mug of cocoa that had been on the table when we walked in The first aid kit was next to him.

He pointed to the spot in front of him. "Arm". He said simply.

I stood in front of him and rolled up my left sleeve. I avoided eye contact as he scanned the cuts. There were four of them and they were pretty deep. The bleeding had stopped and the blood around them was dried.

He took some antibacterial wipes out of the first aid kit and scrubbed at my arm. I winced in pain and instinctively flinched but he kept a tight grip on my wrist.

Soon, all the blood was off. He dug in the kit until he found some kind of gel, which he spread over the kits. It was a pale green and kind of shimmered. I stared at it in fascination until he wrapped it in a fresh bandage. He grabbed my jacket off the floor and reached into the inner pocket. He pulled out my knife.

Bloody Mary is my prized possession. It's the knife mom and dad gave me. The handle is jet black. A small green button releases the blade, and my name is engraved in handle in green cursive writing.

He pressed the button and released the blood covered blade. I couldn't read his empression. He took another one of the antibacterial wipes out of the package and handed me the wipe and the knife.

"Don't try anything with it. Just... get in cleaned off"

I carefully and deliberately wiped down my treasured blade. I watched as the clean white wipe slowly turned reddish brown. When I had finished I handed it back to him.

He stared at it contemplatively for a minute and then looked up at me. My eyes went to the floor, but he titled my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eye.