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

[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?

[clussy]

(It isn't like Eddie didn't have his own check-list of negative words associated with him (sissie, mama's boy, crazy, girly-boy, oh the list went on and on and on). Probably a mile longer just because the cruelty of children (though most with far less severity than 'murderer' - yet Eddie might think certain words were just as bad based on pure conditioning, words that implied......that). All the same, if Sans is an outcast, that just makes Eddie like him even more.

The question spurs a gut wrenching feeling because all at once Eddie feels bad and relieved. It was a weird position to be in.)

This girl my age offered me a place to stay with her and her dad. I'm not sure yet if that's a solid thing but.

(He smiles a little sadly. Because he would have lived with Sans in a heartbeat. Probably the only adult here so far that he would have- even if maybe his trust was jumping the gun.)

But...um.

(He fusses with the parts of the scarf that weren't so securely wrapped around his arm.)

I don't know if you'd want to hang out with a kid a lot or not, but I'd- it'd be fun. I think. The two of us if we hung out.

(He has no idea how to ask for permission to stay at someone's place. Well, okay, maybe with his best friends, sure, but he isn't sure if it would be normal or okay for him to ask if he could stay the night at Sans every now and then. It would be a small comfort, he realizes, to be able to stay with an adult who didn't put him in a giant bubble.)

[skelepun]

[If Eddie's churning guilt is rooted in a fear of upsetting or disappointing Sans, it needn't be. His relief was genuine and immediate, pulling at the static corners of his grin.]

Yeah? That's... that's really good, kid. [A place to rest his head, somewhere with any sense of stability -- it was more than Sans could offer, and no short of what Eddie deserved.] And of course, you know you can come chil with me whenever you want. Actually, that's, uh...

[He holds out a hand, wordlessly asking permission to see Eddie's communicator.]

Lemme fix something for ya real quick, alright?

[clussy]

(Eddie's far too used to his mother guilt-tripping him for just about any time he left the house. He's instantly relieved when Sans reacts like well...a normal person should react. He smiles, feeling once again good about Sans.)

Okay, awesome.

(For a second it took Eddie a moment to realize what Sans could be talking about. He understood the communicator, sure, but it would take him a while to get used to always having it on his person.

Once he realizes what Sans is asking for, Eddie scrambles to hand his communicator over.)

What are you fixing?

[skelepun]

[Upon taking it, it's only a matter of moments and several button presses before Sans is handing it back. With a finger bone, Sans taps at the screen, indicating a small icon he'd added to the home screen.]

These things can be pretty fiddly, so if you ever need anything, all you gotta do is hit that. [He draws his hand back, sliding it back into his pocket.] It'll connect you directly to me.

[And whether that was more for Eddie's benefit or Sans', well...]

And I mean anything, kiddo. Bad dream, good dream, you wanna race some more, you need help with something. Just a click away.

[clussy]

(Eddie looks at the icon that Sans taps his finger against, committing it to memory before Sans even says anything. He understands when something is important.)

Okay. (He nods firmly, looking at the device for a second longer before putting it away carefully.)

Do you have a similar thingie on your phone for me? ('Thingie' is fully appropriate. He has zero technology awareness.

Eddie fusses with the scarf and okay, yeah, that really probably was going to be helping him a bit. The kid might not have asthma, but he definitely had bad anxiety.)

...Bad dreams? (His voice is soft and for a split second, he feels a cavern of something awful open up inside of him. It snaps shut just as quickly and he never, ever wants to feel that again, that horror. It isn't the first time he's felt it since being here, but he still doesn't understand it (It, It).

Thanks, Sans. I'll be around for you too. I promise.

[skelepun]

Sure do. [He waves his own communicator.] We're both just a button press away, kiddo.

[He watches Eddie fuss, fiddling with the scarf. It's such a small gesture, and yet somehow Sans can't quite describe how it makes him feel.

Though the longer he looks, the less he can focus on his own feelings. There was a storm brewing between his brows, something distant and scary and strange. Something intangible.

Something that made him want to promise right back.

It was an uncomfortable feeling. Sans hated promises, as a rule. They so rarely came through clean, soured almost inevitably by reality. No matter how hard someone tried, nobody could control everything. Nobody could promise anything in good conscious, let alone Sans.

And yet here he was, for the second time in his recent memory, making a promise.]

Yeah. I promise, too.

[There's a beat of pause as he looks from Eddie out back towards the wide expanse of space.]

... You wanna look for shapes in the storm, kid?

[clussy]

(A button press away. Technology was wild and Eddie sort of loved it. He would have loved that instantaneous connection with his other friends. Sure phone-calls existed, but you always had to talk your way through a parent first.

Eddie looks deeply pleased by Sans willingness to promise him. Promises were something of a magic for Eddie, both literally and figuratively. The scar on his palm was nearly gone, but it held something powerful in it. So would this promise. That was the beauty of a child believing there were few things stronger in existence than promises, believing it as much as they believed in God or chicken noodle soup being the cure for common colds.)

Yes! I think I saw a turtle over there- look. (He points his finger out, perfectly content to spend time with Sans just looking for impossible things in the strange loops and angles of a storm.)

[skelepun]

[If only Eddie knew his track record with promises. Maybe he'd feel less enthusiastic about the magic they contained, or maybe he'd feel it even more strongly. It was hard to say, and Sans certainly wasn't filling in any blanks.

Still, here he was. Turning to follow Eddie's finger, laughing, crouching down slightly with a hand on the kid's shoulders. It felt nice. It felt simple. And even if it was neither of those things at the core, well...

Sometimes playing pretend felt pretty good.]