Sleepwalking

Did I Really Adore You?

Error sat beside Classic's brother, who spoke about himself in a proud manner. His confidence was, admittedly, a bit overwhelming, but Error didn't mind all that much.

The skeleton pounded his chest as he stared brightly at Error, seemingly putting on a show. He spoke loudly; encouragement and confidence boasted in every word he yelled. He was enthusiastic and proud of himself for the things he'd done in his lifetime. It gave Error a sense of hope to become something.

"My brother Sans, he procrastinates. You didn't hear that from me, though," he stated. Error chuckled and rolled his eye lights.

'Your brother is cool.'

Papyrus eyed Error with a low hum in his nonexistent throat. "Do you think he is cooler than me?" he held his chin as he bent down to Errors height. 'Never.' Error signed. Papyrus patted Error's head and laughed. Error sighed, coming out in unclear numbers and glitched font.

"You know, I just realized you've never tried my spaghetti."

Shit. Error waves his hands frantically and signs spastically that he is definitely not hungry. There was one thing Classic told Error before going where ever it was he went: DO NOT eat ANYTHING Papyrus offers to cook.

Besides, there were leftovers in the fridge left by Dream. Dream didn't trust Blueberry's cooking after he used glitter. Granted, edible glitter this time, but that didn't change the fact that it was used. "Are you sure?"

Error nodded and motioned towards the fridge of leftovers. Papyrus laughed and wrapped his arm around Error, picking him up, and sat him in a chair at the kitchen table.

"Leftovers aren't exactly fresh, but since you don't like spaghetti, how does rice and chicken sound?" He asked. He tilted his head back to look at Error who smiled lightly and sat quietly in his seat. Thank you, Classic. From what he's said, Error was for sure the taste alone would kill him. To be honest with you, dying was not on his to-do list.

______

"But-"

"Nope, no buts, you either learn how to do it or he stays eyeless."

"Fine."

The plush blindly looked up at his doctor. A child, not exactly the best choice. But he was prepared, this wasn't the first child to operate on him.

The child doctor looked up at his teacher. His brother, he pulled strings from his eyes with ease and they loosely wrapped around his fingers. "All you have to do is think of strings and how they move. It's important to remember, strings are not used as weapons, they are for healing and defense."

Dr. Child nodded and lifted his hand, his dad gave him a different method that helped him catch strings rather than wrap around his fingers accordingly. He used his favorite story.

"North wasn't happy with Moon."

His father's voice echoed in his skull soothingly. And he could feel his warm smile play on his dads face as he retold his bedtime story.

"'What am I if I'm not helpful?' North asked. Moon smiled and told him, 'You're beautiful and mine. What more could you need?'"

Strings felt as if they were twirling and swirling around Dr. Child carefully. Choosing specifically where they wanted to warp.

"'I don't want to be yours! I don't want to be beautiful! I want to be bright and guiding, they need me!'"

Something heavy weighted in his soul, a sense of longing, he wasn't sure for what reason. He could feel strings punctured through fabric so effortlessly.