Cancer [Classic Sans Story]

Chapter Sixteen -From a Different Perspective-

Sans sighed as he sat in his hospital bed, the poem in hand, his cheeks stained with dried-up tears. Bags sat under his eye sockets, everything has become so stressful, this sickness, relationships, everyone being tense around him. He almost can't take it anymore. It hurts to just think about it, much less deal with it. He tiredly gripped at the paper and narrowed his eyes, looking at the page once more. Tear droplets spattered on the page, all dried up and smudging some of the words.

The words at the bottom, written out in terribly scraggly letters, mocked him. Sticking their tongue out at him for how he felt. He shook his head and set the page on his bedside table, letting his hands fall back into his lap. He feels horridly depressed with all these thoughts running rampant in his mind. Was this even worth it? Maybe at this point, everything would just stop if he started acting better. Right?

No, Medic would be able to tell that he was lying with a simple test, he wouldn't even make it through the hospital doors. He sighed and let himself fall back into the less than comfortable hospital pillow. He rolled onto his side and picked at the bedsheets. He didn't want to do these tests anymore. If anything, he just wanted to go home at this point and forget this even happened, if it weren't for him being sick, he would live a happy life, with everything he's ever wanted.

...Right?

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Another test, why does Medic insist on doing these every day? Nothing is going to change, or rather he doesn't think so, but then again, he's not a doctor so he doesn't know that.

"Classic, can you hold your arm out for me?" Medic's soft voice rang out in the quiet room, Sans sighed and held his arm out. He winced slightly as Medic pushed a needle into his arm. "Thank you, sorry for this, drawing blood just helps with the tests." He muttered sucked into his work as he drew blood into a vial.


It was silent for a moment, the question Sans has been meaning to ask, now raddling around his head more and more. "Hey Medic, mind if I ask you a question?" He blurted out, Medic snapped up, looking at Sans. He nodded with a small smile before focusing back on his work. "Why do you always do these tests? What are they going to fix?" He muttered his self-dread weighing down on him more than ever.

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"Why do we do them?" Medic asked softly, he isn't too sure he can answer that without breaking Classic's heart. He doesn't want to hurt him or make him worry any more than he undoubtedly does. He sighed and pulled the needle from his arm before grabbing a cotton ball and placing it on the small bead of blood on Classic's arm. "To be completely honest with you, it's because you're the first skeleton known to ever have Cancer. Especially at this severity." He whispered his voice growing softer by the second. He set the cotton ball to the side and grabbed a band-aid, placing it over the small cut. He wanted to vent to him, wanted to tell him that they were doing everything that they could. But he was afraid that it wouldn't be enough, he looked up at Classic and smiled.

That smile quickly dropped with the look that crossed Classic's face, complete and total horror, and fear. He must've known the implications of this news; he would undoubtedly die. Medic sighed and stood up slowly from his seat. He hates delivering bad news like this, and it's all because of that exact look on Classic's face. Medic placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him one last small smile. "We're doing everything we can." That's the most he can promise at the most he can try to comfort him. He helped Classic get up, setting him upright. He turned around to face the door and opened it, they were sitting in a small clinic like area, he did this so Classic wouldn't grow to hate his hospital room. The area crowed with people twenty-four seven and horribly stuffy. I guess that's why everyone was always in a rush to get into the smaller side rooms with the doctors. They didn't want whatever the person next to them had, he shook his head and stepped aside and held the door open for Classic. He glanced around the larger room as Classic walked out slowly. A large desk sat in the center of the room with computers and file holders sitting atop if it. The desk was cluttered with papers, doctors taking files, and guiding patients into the side rooms.