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video 01 | Aortic Aneurysm
(You know who is not going to react to this situation decently no matter how many times it's explained to him? Eddie. You know who doesn't have a good game face against fear? Also Eddie. He's alone, he needs an adult, and he's pretty sure they don't restock on inhalers here. He knew he didn't need it, not technically, but he also knew that his lungs were contracting at a rate that lead to hyperventilating and as far as he was concerned, that was exactly what an asthma attack was all about. He was having an asthma attack. Maybe. His body was thinking about it.
By the way, he's definitely just been staring at the video for a couple of silent seconds, his jaw working back and forth as he just tried to remind himself that he was actually capable of breathing. This kid......)
My mom's going to fucking kill me.
(The words are whispered under his breath and he would think twice about swearing if he realized how many adults might be watching this video. He was enough of a loser that he could get the whole communication device thing, really, that was fine. But he wasn't quite able to wrap his mind around the full extent of it all.
After a second, he decides fuck it. He needs his inhaler. It goes up, he gives it a few shakes, and takes a deep, deep breath in with it. Holds. Holds.
Then his whole body deflates, his eyes rolling up. He closes his eyes and thinks about how he would talk to the police in Derry. Ha. If that wasn't the biggest fucking joke ever. When he speaks next, his voice is pitched higher than before, that typical 'I'm trying super hard to be polite and endearing' voice that he uses to call his mom 'mommy' when he's real apologetic. He's not even trying to be a suck up. The kid's just scared.)
Um. My name's Eddie Kaspbrak. I'm Sonia Kaspbrak's son and I definitely need to be home for dinner which is like, in an hour. So if anyone can help...I would really appreciate it.
.....God, I really hope this isn't that creep who was taking all those kids.
By the way, he's definitely just been staring at the video for a couple of silent seconds, his jaw working back and forth as he just tried to remind himself that he was actually capable of breathing. This kid......)
My mom's going to fucking kill me.
(The words are whispered under his breath and he would think twice about swearing if he realized how many adults might be watching this video. He was enough of a loser that he could get the whole communication device thing, really, that was fine. But he wasn't quite able to wrap his mind around the full extent of it all.
After a second, he decides fuck it. He needs his inhaler. It goes up, he gives it a few shakes, and takes a deep, deep breath in with it. Holds. Holds.
Then his whole body deflates, his eyes rolling up. He closes his eyes and thinks about how he would talk to the police in Derry. Ha. If that wasn't the biggest fucking joke ever. When he speaks next, his voice is pitched higher than before, that typical 'I'm trying super hard to be polite and endearing' voice that he uses to call his mom 'mommy' when he's real apologetic. He's not even trying to be a suck up. The kid's just scared.)
Um. My name's Eddie Kaspbrak. I'm Sonia Kaspbrak's son and I definitely need to be home for dinner which is like, in an hour. So if anyone can help...I would really appreciate it.
.....God, I really hope this isn't that creep who was taking all those kids.
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It didn't look all that different, but looks weren't everything, were they?
As Eddie leaps atop his bike, Sans stretches with a roll of the shoulders.
While Eddie huffs and puffs, Sans fishes the half-eaten carton of Grillby fries out from his makeshift bedside table.
When Eddie slows to a steady stop, Sans looks down at his communicator-slash-watch from where he still sat in the library. About eight minutes since their call disconnected.
That was probably enough time.]
Jeez, kid. [The voice from the communicator is a little crisper in person, sounding from behind Eddie as Sans walks forward from seemingly nowhere. How'd he get here? Where'd he come from? Details, details.] How much did you clock on that thing?
[He holds up the paper box of fries -- cold, stale, but fries -- with a quick rattle.]
I'm a skeleton of my word. [Another rattle.] To the victor go the fry bits.
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He's rocking back and forth on his bike with simple childish elation for the sheer fact that he's never won a single race in his entire life. Eddie puts his head down on the handle bars and allows himself this private moment to smile.
Not such a loser after all, am I?
Maybe not, maybe not.
Eddie doesn't think that maybe Sans was giving him an easy out. It didn't matter for someone like Eddie, Eddie who was just young enough that this kind of validation mattered so much to him.
Eddie picks his head up and whips it around at the sound of that familiar voice. At first his eyes widen because okay, yeah, skeleton is still pretty creepy, but he relaxes pretty quickly after once he does confirm that yes, it's Sans.
All at once he's grinning from ear to ear.)
Clocked enough to beat you. Although I think I might have an unfair advantage with having muscles and all.
(Look at that. He was even joking a little. His eyes fall to the fries and he rotates his bike to face Sans, leaning over it to grab the box.)
Thanks! Maybe next time I'll have something to offer you as a prize. (He suggests, sitting back on his seat and looking at the fries. Sure, they were cold and stale which was kind of gross but as a principal, Eddie didn't get to eat junk like this a lot and he was going to relish in it. And relish he does.)
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It was a strange anomaly in the grand scheme of the Avagi. Gone were the rusted metal plates that made up the winding station halls, replaced instead with grass and trees. Two weeks of climate flux meant that grass was a little yellower and the trees slightly wilted, but it couldn't completely rob it of its otherness. A slice of something different in an already wildly alien place.]
C'mon, ditch your bike, take a load off. [He invites, settling on a particularly soft patch of grass.] You ride a lot?
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(Eddie slips himself off his bike so that he could walk inside with Sans, leading it along next to him. As they entered, he stared about him in wide-eyed wonder. It looked a little like fall, he thought.
He does as Sans suggests and nudges his foot to get the kickstand out. Leaning his bike upright, he took a seat next to Sans and folded his legs together Indian-style.)
Yeah. I ride everywhere mostly. It's the only way I can really get around town and do stuff with my friends.
(They all rode. He munched on some more fries but wasn't such a glutton that he was going to hog them. After two more, he holds the box out to Sans.)
Do you know how to ride a bike? Actually- like. Were you ever a person? I mean, you look like a skeleton of a person but...
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But even without the first hand experience, there was something nostalgic about it. That funny spot between life and death -- and whaddya know, limbo had french fries.]
Me? Nah. I mean, I am a person, but I was never human. [He winks, leaning over to steal one of Eddie's fries with a quick finger to his "lips."] I was a kid like you, once. A lot smaller, though. N' nope.
[Another fry stolen.]
Never learned how to ride a bike.
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Eddie wonders if this place is going to have all that too. A keen ache fills into the pit of his heart. Longing.)
Oh. Okay. (That...made enough sense for Eddie. Eddie looks a little frazzled at being winked at and he's reminded, not for the first time, of his friends. That ache deepens.)
A lot smaller than me?
(Eddie sounds incredulous. He snaps up a fry for himself.
Then his eyes widen spectacularly and his mouth opens until it's damn near gaping.)
Seriously? Riding a bike is one of the coolest things ever. I could teach you if you want?
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[He bites the "head" off the fry he's holding.]
Would I lose cool points if I told you I'm a real speed demon on a tricycle?
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Eddie sniffs at that.) I've had harder challenges before. It's not too hard. And trust me, if I can ride a bike, anyone can ride a bike.
(It had taken him forever to even get his mom to agree to that one.
Sans startles a laugh out of Eddie. It's more of a snort really and something he hides behind a hand but the amused delight is obvious in his eyes.)
Trikes are cool, sure, for babies. And seeing as you're not a baby? Yeah, you lose mega cool points. That's okay though. I don't hang out with cool people anyway.
(And he sounds rather proud and fond of this fact.)
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It's relaxing, in a strange way, listening to a kid talk like this. All of it is, despite the looming shoe hanging over them, inching close and closer to falling.]
Your friends, right? You mentioned them before. What're they like?
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Eddie wouldn't know what to think of someone actually finding him calming to talk to. He was mostly described as shriek-y and panicky and way too rambly.
For a beat, a strange looks comes over Eddie's face and he has to think for a moment.
Then he wants to laugh at himself. Jeez. How could he forget? Maybe it had to do with the space travel. He sets the fries down and works his fingers together, feeling...weirdly exhilarated. He has never once in his life been able to talk about his friends positively. His mom hated them so much and he- well. He didn't talk to anyone else.)
Well there's Bill. Bill's like, the coolest guy you'll ever meet. I'm pretty sure he knows just about everything there is in the world. He even taught me how to change a flat on my tire. He's kind of our leader, you know? He has this really bad stutter but like, that isn't his fault. His kid brother was one of the kids who went missing in his town. Bill's just. He's got a good heart.
(Can you see the stars in his eyes? They're definitely there. Eddie loves Bill, loves him a lot and there's nothing short of a little bit of hero worship there.)
And then there's Richie- (His voice pauses, his whole everything pauses. Fucking Richie Tozier. Eddie sighs and props his elbow onto his knee, chin going into his palm.)
Richie Tozier is literally the most annoying asshole you'll ever meet. (Eddie's on a tangent now and doesn't seem to notice his own swearing. His voice is...oddly fond though.) He's always doing these dumb Voices that sound nothing like what he's trying to imitate and he always is going on about my mom and pinching my cheeks and is so annoying. I hate him.
(Except for the part where he absolutely did not and honestly kind of liked the attention. But like hell he'd ever admit that.)
Ben's a good guy. He was new to the group this year. Kind of- big. It's weird seeing someone so big. But he's smart as hell and helped us build a dam. We accidentally flooded a bit of our town from it but we didn't get into too much trouble. And then there's Mike. He's the only negro friend I have - and he's actually really cool. He gets homeschooled cause his dad's a farmer so it sucks not getting to see him at school but we hang out a lot outside of school to make up for it.
Then there's Stan. He's a good guy too. Do you know what a Jew is? Because that's what he is. He's safe now that the war is done. Stan Uris' remaining fear is that they are still gonna be cutting the tip of his dick off.
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Plenty of people back home didn't find him very cool, either. But Sans always did. Always would, too. Maybe that's why the scene felt familiar in a strange, bittersweet sort of way. It'd been a long time since his little brother was young enough to talk so openly with him about his hopes and fears. It was nostalgic.
Of course, Papyrus never would've sworn quite so much. Not to mention the fact that Eddie was still alive, for the time being.
But details were cheap.]
Uh huh. [Sans nods along, listening closer than he might appear to be. Occasionally he punctuates the story with a soft mm or nod of the skull, taking mental notes on each new wrinkle and twist Eddie's words took.
Ben, new kid, smart, big. Mike, negro (whatever that was), farmer. Bill, a leader with a missing little brother, Eddie's favorite.
Richie, annoying, a jerk, Eddie's other favorite.
Call it a talent for reading people, call it the obvious earmarks of a kid with a crush, but Sans didn't have to stretch too hard to hit that conclusion.]
I dunno what you mean about you not hanging out with cool people, your little crew sounds pretty rad. I mean, flooding a town? [He nudges Eddie gently.] Not bad.
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It's like being seen for the first time.
Sans has a whole lot more awareness about the kind of person Eddie is than Eddie would even know where to begin with. His obliviousness to himself is a trademark of the time period he came from. The only time Eddie has ever thought about himself was alone in the dark of his room, feeling the fear soak in and letting it fester under the skin where the rest of his diseases lay dormant.
(You're a sick boy, Eddie! You're my delicate boy.)
Sick. That's all Eddie was to himself. Sick, sick, and sicker yet.
Except when he was with his friends. Then he forgot sometimes that he was sick. And right now? Sitting with Sans? He forgot to be allergic to the grass.
The kid might just have a chance this turn around. Honestly, Eddie's abduction to this space station was a lot better for him than the future that lay at his feet back home.)
Well we didn't flood the whole town or anything. We just started to cause some backups and then a cop came- it was horrifying. (He smiles a little proud. It had been horrifying in the moment, anyway, but with Sans approval, he felt like maybe it was pretty cool too.)
Nah. They're the greatest guys I've ever met in my life. Everyone calls us losers but that's okay. We kind of are losers.
(He grins at Sans then, his nose wrinkled up, and yeah, he was fine with that name after all.)
What about you, Sans? Do skeletons have a lot of friends?
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It was a special thing. This kid had spark in him. Weighed down, maybe, but too bright to miss its shine.
... This place was gonna tear him to pieces.]
Skeletons? Oh, sure. I'm a pretty popular guy back where I'm from. [In so far as popularity could be measured by how many people who knew his name and his drink order, but nothing else.] Here? Eh... I'm eating french fries with a new pal now, aren't I?
[He winks, and steals another fry. They were down to the dregs now; only bits left. Those were Eddie's spoils of victory, and Sans avoids them in favor of a shriveled up frankenfry.]
S'alright if I ask you something a little more serious, kid?
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The only difference is that unlike at Derry, this place seemed to have no shortage of actual quality adults. Adults who maybe wanted to help. Like, actually to help.)
Yeah? What are some of your friends like? Are they monsters like you? (Eddie uses the word 'monster' like a physical object. He holds it in his mouth curiously, realizing maybe for the first time that words did not have to have concrete meaning. That a monster could be simultaneously good and bad.
That was information he wasn't sure what to do with. For now, it's tucked away.)
We're friends?
(There's a small hopefulness that melts its way into Eddie's voice. He does not make friends often. He stares at the bottom of the fries and tips the box back to eat them.
Half of them.
The other half he holds out to Sans and grins a bit sheepishly.)
I'm stuffed from the others. (A lie, sure, but Eddie wanted to give his new friend (a new friend, mom) the rest of the good pieces.
But the serious question thing? That has Eddie lowering the box a little and he feels a prickle of discomfort under his skin.)
Um. Yes. (His gut instinct is to ask if he's in trouble but he doesn't. He waits for Sans to ask him instead.)
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But I've got some human friends, too.
[It's impressive, honestly, how quick Eddie is on the uptake. For all his initial surprise, the mundanity of Sans' appearance and species settled in quickly over their interactions. There was no laundry list of questions about the hows and whys of his existence, no suspicion, no prolonged horror.
Just a kid, eating fries, asking about his monster friends.
... A kid, eating fries, making sure someone like him got enough to eat even in a strange place where he knew nothing and no one.
Sans takes a crispy fry end. He doesn't buy that this kid was stuffed off a few stale french fries, but far be it from him to turn the kid down.]
Like you. [He nudges Eddie's shoulder, hand hovering over it with a quick, steadying squeeze.] Of course we're friends.
So that's why I'm gonna ask... how much did everybody tell you so far, about this place?
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(Can they? That's incredible if they can. He gives that some thought before nodding rather slowly.)
Actually, they probably have a good poker face. Because they're a dog.
(Maybe they can play poker after all.
It was all simple to Eddie. It had been pretty startling at first but with how casual Sans was, how easy it was to relax around him, and frankly, the fact that Sans made Eddie feel even remotely good about himself? Eddie was quick to accept Sans as a basic fact of nature. Eddie didn't go around asking birds how they ate so why would he ask Sans? Besides, he hated when people asked him what all of his medication was for. That kind of stuff seemed personal.
Eddie's smiling again because wow, boy, it does feel good to have more friends. He wonders if the guys would like Sans and shit, of course they would. Richie might make some god awful jokes though but Eddie thinks maybe they'd be the sort of jokes Sans would appreciate.
Some of them anyway.)
Oh. (That wasn't the question he had been anticipating. He relaxes and looks up, thinking.)
I know there's inhuman things here. Both because of you and someone else told me. People have told me it's safe but someone else told me it could be dangerous too- but like, that's how everywhere is. Um....People have to trade things to get things or find them. We can't go home and apparently our home is stuck in time so no one knows we're gone either.
(He's pretty sure that covered most of it.)
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[Not that Sans complained when he was taking all their money. Maybe now Eddie could take some people's money, too.
Well, dog money, anyway.]
But it sounds like you got the lowdown. That's good. [It was.] How's it all... y'know, sinking in? You feeling alright?
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Sans was quickly becoming the guy Who Knew Things.
Eddie would probably be too nice to take money from dogs. Dogs had it bad enough didn't they?
You know what most little boys aren't used to? Being asked about how they felt. Eddie stares at Sans for a solid minute before he's looking down at his lap, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt.)
I'm okay. (He's supposed to feel okay and he knows that. Crying is for babies, sissies, and otherwise, and Eddie is doing his best to keep a brave face on.
But...Sans has done a decent job at implementing himself as relatively trust worthy to Eddie. So even after he exclaims his okayness, Eddie clears his throat.)
It's just. (He looks at Sans out of the corner of his eye before giving a small shrug.)
I don't really know what I'm supposed to do. Overall, I mean. My mom did mostly everything for me. I know how to do some food stuff but for like snacks. I can handle a drug store but there's not a drug store. I'm not old enough to work, but apparently there's not even currency. I don't really-.
(His voice catches because these fears? These are the kind of fears a lot of people have in the real world let alone a weird situation like this.)
Can I tell you a secret?
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It wasn't righting any past wrongs -- nothing could do that, Sans had seen that with his own eye sockets -- but there was a strange sort of mercy in those three little words.
Are you okay?
If only he'd learned that a long time ago. Maybe things would've been different.]
Yeah, of course.
[The rambling list of fears, the worries, the talk of his mother (maybe not high-five worthy, after all...), all of it could wait for the moment.
Whatever it was this kid had to get off his chest, that was where Sans' eyelights focused now. He scoots a bit closer in the grass, skull ducked lower. Conspiratory. Safe.]
What's up?
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But Sans had been enlisted as a friend for Eddie, someone he could maybe express his concerns to at the very least. He bends himself towards Sans, tucking himself into that private bubble between the two of them.
He looks nervous and yeah, Sans was about to figure that no, his mother wasn't so high-five-worthy at all.)
I'm-.
(He looks over his shoulder as if expecting Sonia Kaspbrak to be standing right there, staring him down, Eddie-bear? I've been looking all over for you, Eddie. Are you trying to run away from your mother? Do you not love me anymore? Eddie!
But there is no such thing there and he slowly turns his head back around. Guilt rubs him raw but he has to admit it- even if it's only to one person.)
I love my mommy. I really do. (That's the first thing he says- because it's true. Eddie doesn't know how to not love her. His relationship with his mother was so ingrained into him that it fucked with every piece of hard wiring he had and it didn't matter how deep the resentment went for her lying to him.)
But I-...I'm kind of...happy she isn't here. I don't know how to be on my own and I'm a little scared about that, but I think if she were here, it'd be a lot worse. She would be scared and I don't think I would ever leave the medical place here. And I'm not exaggerating. I really think she'd lock me down there because she wouldn't be able to believe that I could be safe out here- in the open air.
(There isn't that childlike fear of a parent grounding their kid. There's something extremely real on Eddie's face, a waver in his voice.
Granted, he was pretty anxious about space illnesses himself. How could he not be? But even as much of a hypochondriac as Eddie was, it would never be as bad as his mother was.)
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[From their small bubble -- private only by the grace of some unspoken, tenuous promise with the rest of the world -- Sans' eye sockets soften slightly. From this close vantage, Eddie's body language was easy to see and even easier to read.
The fears of children were sometimes just that -- childish. Fear of punishment, fear of reprisal, fear of the unknown. But sometimes, there was something deeper about those anxieties. Something that settled past the what ifs into concrete certainty.
When Eddie says she'd lock me away, it wasn't a trembling kid anxious over missing dinner. It was the assertion of a child who knew his mother, and knew how she might react.
She wasn't the first mother Sans had ever heard of, who wished desperately for her children to be protected even at the limits of their freedoms. He could remember as clear as day, one such mother reaching out to him through a locked door, imploring him to protect any children who walked through it.
But unlike Eddie's mother, children did walk through that door.
She did let them go.
Whoever this woman was, things were different. Wrong, somehow.]
Hey. [Sans begins, choosing his words carefully.] That's... you don't have to be ashamed of that, kid. Sometimes... sometimes, it's easier, not having to worry about yourself and someone else.
[His perpetual grin tightens a little.]
Your mom sounds like she gives you kinda a lot to worry about, huh?
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Eddie couldn't argue to anyone that he was particularly good at reading people. But he wasn't bad at it either. He had enough sensitivity that he could read pain on someone else or pain's many variations. The funny thing was, he had never thought a skeleton could be expressive. But Eddie notices that softening in Sans. Another look he's not too used to. He holds it in his minds eye, like smoke, not quite sure if he could do anything with it, but aware of it all the same.
It's not something he understands or realizes at the surface of his mind, but somewhere buried inside of Eddie he understands that Sans is an empathetic person. He is not listening to Eddie with the pity of an adult, but with the compassion of a friend.
That's a pretty substantial difference.)
Yeah? (He asks with sheer hope because God, he doesn't think the guilt from it would ever go away.)
...You're right. (Though Eddie would prefer his friends there at least. That wasn't what Sans meant though and he knew it.
He picks at the grass absently, twisting it between his fingers.)
I'm...not really sick. (He mumbles.) I mean, I'm sick in the head I guess, but like, my lungs are fine. My mom...she's always telling me what I can or can't do and sometimes I know what I can do but then I wonder if she's right and. I don't know.
(His eyes dart up to Sans and he looks fidgety.)
I know my inhaler doesn't actually do anything but like. It's. Sometimes I just need it still.
(It sounds stupid when he puts it like that but alas.)
So yeah, I guess she does give me a lot to worry about. I try to remember it's bullshit but then I get scared about something and I can't remember. And then I start thinking that she's not totally wrong. Like, there's so much bacteria that can make you sick and kill you it's disgusting.
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That Eddie seemed aware of that only made it worse, somehow. Buying into the lies people tell at least provided a sense of comfort and consistency to backwards logic. Poor kid didn't even have that.
Sick in the head.
He starts to speak several times, only to stop before any words could escape. Finally,
he straightens up, looking back over the greenery's expanse. Wilted, sure, but still beautiful.
How many things would Eddie's mother be terrified of here, he wondered. The pollen? The alien plants?
... The monster talking to her son?
There as a lot to unpack. Too much for him to fix with mere words of encouragement or sympathy. And for a moment, Sans is at a loss of how to help.
(you're not good at this, call Shepard, call someone who has the barest idea of how to not screw this up)
And then, it comes to him.]
Hey, kid. [He finally speaks, almost suddenly, turning back to Eddie.] You wanna know something cool?
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And every time he used that inhaler, no matter how real the asthma attack looked, that was a lie too. A lie that Eddie convinced himself of needing even.
He didn't want to lie to Sans. His fingers twist and rip out more grass, maybe a little harder than before. There isn't really anything anyone can say to twelve years worth of invasive manipulation.
That kind of thing didn't change magically because of one perfect sentence.
Eddie looks up, his dark eyes curious.)
What?
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[He gets up, brushing some grass off his shorts before offering a hand down to Eddie.]
We're going on a field trip, kiddo.
[There's a beat of pause as Sans remembers their conversation from before. Strangers versus friends.]
Y'know, if that's cool with you.
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