video 01 | Aortic Aneurysm

[clussy]

(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.

Comments

[skelepun]

[It's not a happy secret.]

[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?

[clussy]

(Honestly? Eddie doesn't have a single happy secret in him.

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.

[skelepun]

[It was a lot of information. That the inhaler wasn't necessary, that the inhaler was fake, the extent of his mother's domineering rules. A relationship now ticked far past overprotective and into a network of constraints. Rules with no purposes, limits without reason.

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?

[clussy]

(Thankfully for Sans, this wasn't really Eddie telling him all this to be fixed or to be provided with help. Eddie doesn't think there's much about him that can be fixed. Mostly, he's confiding in Sans because Sans is now a friend and Eddie felt like lying to your friends was a horrible thing to do.

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?

[skelepun]

I'll show you.

[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.

[clussy]

(Eddie stares for a fraction of a second at that offered hand. How sanitary exactly were skeletons anyway? It's a thought he pushes out of his head. If he can grab at Richie's anything anytime when that kid was a walking, talking enigma of germs then he could handle this.

He grabs the hand (it's weird touching a skeleton, admittedly) and gets to his feet. He brushes his own shorts off.)

A field trip?

(What a use of a word. Field trips were virtually the funnest part about school and there's no denying the little light that comes into Eddie's eyes.)

Yeah it is. (He grabs a hold of his bike and then looks back at Sans before his bike.)

Hey. Want me to bike us there? Promise no coordination. You just stand on these- (He kicks the pegs with the tip of his shoe-) And then hold on my shoulders and tell me where to go. It's fun.

[skelepun]

[As sanitary as most things on a dirty abandoned space station. Possibly less, if only because the crew was making a conscious effort to tidy the Avagi, whereas Sans hadn't seen the inside of a shower for a couple weeks now.

It hadn't been his best month. But as the kid's hand tightens around his, Sans can't help the distant sense that things were looking up just a little.]

Huh? [The offer is a surprise, but one Sans responds to with a broadening of his usual grin. This kid was something else, and whatever that something was had already started to grow on him.] Hell yeah, kiddo. You're never gonna see me turn down a free ride.

[He puts one slippered foot on the pegs, nodding for Eddie to hop on.]

Head back down the greenery path, out into the main hall, and turn left. I'll tell you the rest once we get rolling.

[clussy]

(Okay see if Eddie knew Sans hadn't showered in a while he might have been a little more repulsed. It's a good thing bones don't really get as dirty as human skin (maybe?).

Eddie grins broadly then and yeah, things are just fine. The blessing of kids was that they had pretty sharp reflexes on emotional stuff.) Awesome.

(He climbs up onto his bike and waits until he feels Sans secure himself before pushing off. Eddie rides smooth and rides at a good speed. Not too fast for two people, but fast enough to be a little fun.

He follows directions well, not bothering to ask where they were going because hey, that was part of the surprise, right?)

[skelepun]

[It had been a while since Sans last bothered taking in a scenic route somewhere. If his initial tour of the station wasn't still relatively recent, they might've never found their way at all.

Of course, that didn't stop Sans from pointing out a few wrong turns. Chalk it up to him enjoying the ride. And the laugh he'd occasionally laugh he'd squeeze out of the kid playing dumb. It's the little things.

Two right turns, three left turns, and four wrong turns later the pair found themselves stopped in front of a large, decorative set of double doors. Observation Deck was written above it, designating the location's name and purpose all together.]

Alright, this is it.

[Hopping off, Sans reaches into his pocket. Whatever it is his hand winds around, he doesn't pull it out just yet.]

There's just one thing we gotta take care of first.

[clussy]

(At first Eddie just figures Sans made a mistake or two. But then he quickly caught onto the fact that Sans was messing with him. People who were willing to mess with him in a way that didn't involve snapping his arm or making him eat gravel were a heaven sent and Eddie snorted the moment he realized.

Which of course lead to him retaliating by taking them a few wrong turns as well.

Eddie wheels to a stop once they're outside of the double doors. He can read just fine, but in the 1950s space exploration is barely touched and he doesn't even think about what could be an 'Observation Deck'.

He is curious though, he'll say. What could they be observing? He slips off of his own bike and kicks up the stand, resting it against the wall.

He looks away from the sign to Sans, eyes still big with that kid-wonder.)

What's that?

[skelepun]

You talked about your inhaler, right?

[Be it hesitation or striving for a sense of fostered anticipation, Sans takes his time pulling out whatever is now wrapped firmly around his hand.]

How you don't really need it, but sometimes it kinda makes you feel better?

[clussy]

...Yeah.

(He hesitantly touches the pocket where he kept said inhaler. That good ole mix of hydrogen and oxygen with a dash of Camphor.

His eyes are distracted by whatever Sans is grabbing onto though, curiosity twisting up his face even further.)

Yeah. Why?

[skelepun]

S'kinda like armor, right? Something that makes you feel stronger when you're not feeling so hot. [He's meandering to a point but, much like their path here, he was taking the most winding path possible. As to why, well...] My brother had something like that, too. He used to wear it around all the time.

[And, the reveal... well, it's a little anti-climactic. The red piece of fabric pulled from his jacket pocket unfurls from a messy folded square to something long and tattered.]

I've kinda been holding onto it for a while.

[There's a beat of pause, staring down at the scarf with a strange smile on his face, before holding it out to Eddie.]

Things are gonna be kinda crazy for a while. And like you said, you're gonna be on your own, and there's gonna be a lot you have to learn on the fly. N' I think you can handle it, kid, but hey.

We could all use a little more armor.

[clussy]

Armor? (Eddie has never thought of any part of himself or his medication like armor. Armor was for knights and Spartans and brave people. People who fought. Maybe Sans was meandering but Eddie soaks it in, his whole body rigid.

His friends were like armor, he realized. They all were to each other. Locking into place against horrible, God awful things.)

You have a brother? (And that brother had something like that too- something like armor. Was that why Sans hadn't made fun of him? Eddie's hands were curled up against his chest, an overly delicate pose for a boy his age from his time zone, but he doesn't notice it. He's too busy burning holes into what Sans presents to him.

It isn't so anticlimactic to Eddie. He understands fully when something is precious.

He doesn't quite reach for it yet, something swelling up tight inside of his chest. Not anxiety. Something else, something equally as tight, tight as a balloon near bursting.)

You- but that's your brother's. I can't take something of your brothers...

(If he had anything of his friends, he didn't know if he'd be so happy to let go of them. His eyes are stuck on that red, red scarf though.)

Isn't that your armor? (It would be Eddie's. If he had one of Richie's stupid print shirts or one of Bill's shoelaces or Mike's shirts or Ben's too-big sweaters.)

[skelepun]

[It shouldn't surprise him at this point, the depth of this kid's capacity for compassion. From making sure he followed his mother's draconian instructions, to treating a skeleton with some dignity, to worrying about the safety and security of that same stranger over himself.

It really shouldn't surprise him.

They were friends now, right?]

Hey, I didn't say I was giving it to you, did I? [He winks, voice equal parts teasing and warm.] You're borrowing it. I totally expect it back eventually. Just, y'know...

[He waves it slightly, skull canted just slightly to the side. It was strange to see it unfurled like this, carrying with it a thousand memories -- good and bad.]

I think my brother'd really want you to have it. He was really cool that way.

[It certainly wasn't doing anyone any good tucked away in his pocket, hidden like a fresh wound.]

C'mon. [He urges again, smiling a little broader.] Just for a little while.

[clussy]

No, you didn't.

(Sans has a point there. He doesn't need to be told how important this was. If Sans was carrying it around with him, that said enough about its value. Eddie looks up at him.)

What if I fuck up and lose it?

(His eyes drop back down to the scarf.)

I get into trouble a lot. (What if he was wearing it and he met some new and improved Henry Bowers who decided he wanted to make Eddie eat shit? Eddie would never forgive himself.

But Eddie reaches a hand out to take the scarf from Sans. He holds it gingerly in his hands like it's more of a fragile piece of glass than a worn piece of cloth. He winds it between his palms, squeezing the fabric tightly.

There was a certain kind of magic that came with this sort of thing, a subtle magic stitched into the very fibers.)

I'm sure your brother's the coolest. (He doesn't put the scarf around his neck but instead he winds it around his arm, the one he had broken, and knots it off at the elbow. It actually looks kind of cool, fitted around his hand like some sort of improv cast. He clenches his hand into a fist and smiles. He wouldn't always wear it like that but for now it would do.)

Like armor, right?

[skelepun]

[There's a moment as the scarf leaves his hand that Sans feels something catch at the back of his jaw. A strange feeling of letting go of something, even just for a little while.

And yet he couldn't help feeling as if where ever Papyrus was, whatever was left of him in that old tattered red scarf, he would be pretty pleased with sharing something cool with someone who really appreciated it.]

That's the thing about armor. [He points out a few of the tears and rips scattered across its hem.] You can bang it up and it still works. No matter how much trouble you get into.

[I'm sure your brother's the coolest.

If Sans' expression was anything to go by, that was putting it mildly. Caught between amused, impressed, and distantly happy in a way he hadn't felt in some time.]

You look rad as heck, kiddo. [He juts a hand over his shoulder, back towards the Observation Deck doors.] Ready?

[clussy]

(Eddie wasn't about to pry into Sans' personal life concerning his brother. He didn't have the emotional capacity to think to, really, despite his natural inclination for compassion.

Though he certainly would not forget about this any time soon and no doubt would bring up Sans' brother in the future.

His eyes catch the little rips and tears and a bit of that tension dislodges itself. If it was neater, he'd be so much more worried.)

Okay. I'll keep it safe for you then until you want it back.

(Eddie makes this promise like he's signing over his life on a piece of paper, the seriousness stilling his entire face.

But then the motion to continue waves him on and Eddie is animated again.)

Thanks. Although the credit kind of goes to your brother. I'm not really known for my fashion sense.

(He gestures to the eye-burning micro shorts and pastel shirt with matching tube socks complete with bands of colors at the top. Heeello.)

I am! What are we observing anyway? (Oh boy. Little does he know what's in store for him.)

[skelepun]

[Another man might've told Eddie the seriousness wasn't warranted, that it was just a scarf, and yet... well, Sans looked more impressed than anything.

It was serious. It was important. And, though this was more opinion than measurable fact, there was some magic in that old scrap of fabric.

A magic that apparently had an affinity for owners with short shorts. Papyrus really would be proud.]

Well... I guess you could call it your new home, for the time being. [He pushes at a button by the door, shuttering them open immediately.] And the reason why none of us can leave it just yet.

[He steps aside slightly, nodding forward through the door.

Lead the way, kiddo.]

[clussy]

(And Eddie would have dutifully ignored another man. He would be serious if he damned well wanted to be serious and things like this were always serious.

It was a curious answer and one that Eddie figured he'd get more explanation of if he just took a step through that door. It might be a little ominous the whole 'why none of us can leave yet' thing but his excitement overrides that. Instead he looks ahead and takes those first few steps.

And the universe seems to yawn open in front of him.

It's at once the most immense and terrifying and incredible thing he has ever witnessed. It wasn't like looking up at the stars at night at all. It was so much more. He doesn't notice any of the chairs or the systems nearby. He just keeps walking until he's in the dead center. At some point he had covered his mouth with both of his hands, his eyes staring up ahead unblinking.

The strangest, quietest thought slipped into his mind. Does that look like a turtle?)

This is-.

(Eddie doesn't have the vocabulary. Did anyone ever when they saw something like this for the first time? He folds his hands together tightly and squeezes his palms together.)

Jesus.

[skelepun]

[There are no footfalls following behind Eddie as he wanders towards the center of the deck, and yet when Sans speaks he's right beside him. A low voice breaking in through the stillness of the moment.]

Talk about starry eyed, amiright?

[It's a joke, but there's a reverence behind it that Sans couldn't quite strip out. No matter how long he lived among them, stars never quite lost their luster.]

This is one of the few things around here that doesn't disappoint. My advice? Take your time soaking it in.

[After all, you only get to experience it for the first time once.]

[clussy]

(Eddie doesn't even notice the lack of footfalls. Of course he doesn't. The only other thing of unbelievable proportions that could match up to this was his forgotten encounter with IT and that was definitely not like this at all. This was more positive than it was negative- even if it did make Eddie a little hyper aware of how tiny he was.)

Jesus. You're not kidding.

(He can't even look at Sans right away. He's too busy just. Staring. Staring and staring and staring.

He does take his time. Truly does, shamelessly does, staring from end to end. There's that fierce ache inside of him again and his hands go from his mouth to his chest, clutching at the material of his shirt just on the other side of his heart.)

God, they would love this. (His voice is small and soft, and it's probably evident to Sans without even saying it that he's talking about his friends. His eyes sting for a moment but he instantly pinches them shut.

He would see them again. He would. They were the Losers. They didn't go anywhere without each other. Right?

His eyes open back up and he finally looks at Sans, smiling again, even if he's got some mixed emotions in him.)

Thank you. For- all of this. (Gesturing intentionally with the scarf-wrapped arm up towards the stars.)

You're...a lot better than most adults I've met.

[skelepun]

[It's a sight Sans has seen many times, really. He comes out here to think, to work, to read, enough that the vast expanse served as both backdrop and passive entertainment. The galactic storm would churn and Sans caught himself staring for hours, trying to learn its patterns.

He hadn't yet, not even close, but that was the point, right?

He could stare out these windows for the next thousand years. He'd never come close to learning it all. How can you map something that's constantly pulsing, changing, replacing itself, reforming -- as alive, maybe more alive, than the people staring up into it. He could barely stand to tear his eye sockets away most days.

Funny how, this time, it's Eddie Sans can't seem to stop staring at.

Maybe it was the scarf. Or it could be how he must've been close to Eddie's age when he first dug a telescope out of the dump, pointing it up at the gemstone lined cavern walls and imagining they were constellations.

But mostly, Sans couldn't remember the last time he'd made anyone this happy.]

You don't gotta thank me, kid. [There's a tinge of embarrassment in his voice as he shrugs away the thanks, quickly looking back up towards the view when Eddie turns his way.] You just seemed like you could use a pal.

[You're a lot better than most adults I've met.

It spoke less to Sans' strength of character as it did to the sheer... sourness of the life Eddie left behind. Something heavy and sagging hung over Sans' ribs, weighing him down as he continued to stand at Eddie's side.

If he was better, then what did that say about wherever this kid came from?]

I know I've asked you a lotta questions today, but are you cool with one more?

[clussy]

(Eddie doesn't realize that he's being stared at. It's no smaller wonder. Eddie wouldn't notice if Pennywise itself was creeping up behind him. There was something so deeply consuming about space that Eddie was caught up in its endless nebula and blackholes and swirling clouds of impossible motion made possible.

In all truth, the only time Eddie had ever felt this wholly content, this safe, this happy himself was one or two very tender, very sweet memories of his friends. This would be something he would cherish for the rest of his short, miserable life.)

Yes I do. (Eddie insists this at once and without a single thought to it. If there is absolutely anything he has learned, it is that adults are extremely self-motivated. So are kids but in a completely different way. Adults didn't need to do anything for kids. All Sans could have done was pat Eddie on the head, assure him everything was fine, tell him to suck it up, and be on his merry way.

But no. Sans took the time to be so much more to Eddie than any adult ever has. He gave him a sense of validation, gave him companionship in a suddenly cold, foreign world, and gave him an outlet for Eddie to tuck some of his darker secrets into.

Eddie's best relationships have all formed like this: out of the blue and all at once. Nothing drawn out and developed. His trust is simple but unwavering.)

I think maybe we both could. (He's not oblivious. He idly squeezes his hand into a fist- the hand he wore the scarf around.

Eddie looks at Sans straight on and shrugs his small, bony shoulders (ha).)

You can ask me whatever you want to ask me. Shoot.

[skelepun]

[I think maybe we both could.

It wouldn't be the first time Sans was knocked off kilter by a few simple words, spoken by a child. He's sure it wouldn't be the last, either. But hell if these ones didn't root him to the spot.

When you spent most of your time lurking in the shadows, watching, waiting, noticing, you get used to people not looking too closely at you. He told jokes, he did tricks, all in the service of keeping himself out from under the scrutiny of public opinion. For all but a few especially stubborn individuals, when people thought of Sans there were some notable words that came to mind: apathetic, lazy, irresponsible, a screw-up, a mess, a murderer. They weren't wrong, either.

But, a guy who needs a pal?

That just might be an Eddie original.]

Someone offer you a place to stay yet?