Chapter Text
It’d taken a long time, really. A really, really long fucking time. Red was done by the time Razz finally gave up and agreed to go to therapy once a week. It was a two month long duel of who’d last the longest, whos patience held out longer than the other. Red won. He did because for the past two months, every day he’d been bothering Razz- calling him in the morning and texting him through the day, all consisting of ‘agree to go to therapy’ and similar messages.
It was worse when Red went to visit Razz. He wouldn’t even say hello, first. He’d ask if Razz was ready to admit he needed help, and when turned down, would then say hello and do his usual routine of tossing his shoes onto the shoe-mat and flopping onto the couch, hogging all of it practically.
After the party, Razz hadn’t really talked much with Blue. Not after he left so abruptly. But it felt nice having one issue off his chest. Despite the issue with Slim still, it was a good feeling to not need to worry about leaving an issue with Blue untouched. Razz felt successful and accomplished in one thing. Not he had to do more things.
Which sounded like a lot of work, which also sounded like his bed was calling him very sweetly, coercing him into laying down and staying down.
He didn’t, though! He didn’t stay in bed all day at all. He kept active- he’d clean up, make food, make sure he was clean, he even rearranged his room and redecorated the house a bit. As in he moved two picture frames off the wall of the stairwell and to another wall. It still counted.
Red coming over daily helped a bunch, too. Originally, Razz didn’t want to do much. He hit a hard rut due to what had happened that sent him leaving the party rudely, something he’d never do any other time, but it was needed to avoid getting upset in front of everyone. That would be worse than just leaving fast.
But the day that Razz gave in, was the worst. He’d woken up early and felt shaky, and nothing else had really gone right. Satan had decided it was a perfect day to leave a hairball right in the hallway. So at four am, he had to clean it up. Then he burned breakfast, and gave up on that. When he got a headache, he couldn’t find anything to help it, so he ended up laying on the couch, a heavy blanket tossed over him, face buried in a pillow. He’d started feeling really, really wound up after breakfast, so he’d settled down to try and unwind.
Red came in without actually knocking. He knew something was wrong because usually when he walked in unannounced, Razz was harping him for it, telling him that it was rude to walk directly into anyone's house no matter how close one is to them. Red came into the lounge, spotting Razz instantly. Mostly since Razz had lifted his head sleepily to glare at whoever dared to come into his house uninvited.
“...Bad day?” Red asked, coming over and kneeling down beside the couch, resting a hand on the arm of it. Razz flopped his head down into the pillow, but did turn his head so he could watch Red.
He nodded faintly, cheek smushed against the pillow, but it was clear he was pouting. He didn’t like feeling so… Bad. It hurt. His everything was aching and he wanted it to be over with for once.
“...really bad day.” He concluded, sliding his arms up and hugging the pillow idly, frowning anxiously. He felt weak and exposed when he had bad days. They used to be few and far between, but since having his falling out with his brother, he started to have more and more bad days. Eventually it got to the point that a lot of the time he didn’t have the energy to get outside much, and when he did he usually felt sick the whole time, wound up so tight it hurt.
Usually the feeling was easy to push towards an anxiety attack. Especially if the ‘bad day’ turned into days. Thankfully, the past few weeks had been pretty… Okay. Not too stressful, aside from Red visiting a lot more than he used to before Razz made up with Blue.
Red nodded, rubbing Razzs back, “..ready to admit you need therapy, yet?” he asked, fully aware he was taking advantage of how bad Razz felt. It was for a good reason. Razz was too prideful to admit he needed help, and he was embarrassed that he knew he did need help. He didn’t want to admit it at all, because it felt too weak for him to do that..
It took a moment, before Razz was nodding faintly, turning his head and burying his face back into the pillow quietly, “...yeah.. I do need therapy.” He mumbled, voice heavily muffled, making it hard for Red to fully understand what was being said. But, the defeated tone and vague sounds of the words did let Red know that the war was done.
Red nodded, patting Razzs back and shifting around to sit down on the floor. “I can head out if ya want me to get stuff?” He offered, tilting his head back to look at Razz to make sure he heard Razz, or saw him, right.
“..it would be.. Nice.” He murmured, voice still muffled, but he did lift his head up a tiny bit to speak a bit clearer. Red nodded, leaning back and slouching down idly, thinking for a moment.
“..alright. What d’ya need me t’get?” He asked, shifting to stand up, so he could get his shoes back on once Razz replied.
He was quiet for a moment, before lifting his head again to look at Red, “..headache meds, a heating pad..” He thought for a moment, dropping his head down again, “..food.” he pouted, “any food. Good food.”
Nodding, Red pushed himself up, patting Razz on the back lightly and fixing the blanket, making sure he was properly covered by the thick blanket, before getting his shoes back on and leaving. The only real rule he stuck to in Razz’s house, was to keep his shoes at the foyer. Red’s shoes were worn and dirty half the time, and Razz took pride in his cleanliness. Red didn’t want to risk tracking dirt, and any other number of things in when Razz just cleaned.
About a half hour passed before Red returned, toeing his shoes off and padding to the lounge again. Razz had sat up, but had maneuvered blankets and pillows around himself in such a way that settled him with a pillow behind his lower back, upper back, neck, head and tucked under each arm, one under his knees and another on his lap, with blankets tucked in around him. He was dozing slightly, and Red would never breathe a word of it around Razz, but he was totally drooling a little.
Once assured that Razz was safe, he went to the kitchen, setting the two bags of things down and beginning to unpack it. Pain medication, a heating pad, and more than enough food. Ranging from sweets to any number of comfort foods. Most of it was all microwavable foods, quick and easy.
Getting everything stored away safely, he got a glass down and filled it with water, before getting the pill bottle and taking both the glass of water and pills out to Razz. He nudged him awake with his foot, and once Razz had stirred and lifted his head blearily, he pushed the pill bottle out practically into his face with an obnoxious rattling.
Razz made a face, and took the pills, undoing the cap and getting six out, before recapping the bottle and dropping it onto the pillow in his lap, taking the water when Red offered it.
Soon enough, the pain eased for him, and he began to relax down. His chest still felt uncomfortably tight and he didn’t enjoy it. It made it tough to breathe, making him feel fuzzy and light headed.
Once the bottle and glass were taken back out to the kitchen, Red sat beside Razz and let him lean close.
Soon after, Razz recoiled and made a face, “you stink.” he huffed, tucking himself back into the corner of the couch, “you have permission to shower here.” he grumbled, looking displeased.
Red let out a bark of laughter, shifting, “An’ who says I wanna smell like a fuckin’ flower?” He joked, elbowing Razz a tad roughly, earning a few swats to his arm and weak pushes.
“Its better than smelling like a wet dog!” Razz retorted, scrunching his face up in disgust. He preferred cats, thank you very much. His experience with dogs was that they were loud and jumpy, clumsy and clunky. Not his… thing.
“Maybe someone thinks a wet dog smells nice! I could get a hot girl one day.” Red grinned, leaning away from Razz and lounging across the couch, purposely kicking his feet up onto the pillow on Razz’s lap.
That earned a disgusted yelp, and his legs were kicked right off of the couch, “You’re so gross! Do you ever bathe?”
“Yea’, course I do! My monthly bathing schedule is very deep cleansing.” Red snickered, shifting around to get comfortable after his legs were so rudely thrown off the couch.
Razz huffed, pointing at the stairs, “Bathroom, now. Clean yourself and maybe you’ll be able to tell what things smell like past your stench.” he huffed, crossing his arms.
Red laughed, standing up and sighing heavily like the sheer act of going upstairs to shower was extremely daunting. “Fiiiiine.” he groaned, going to the stairs and walking up them slowly, making sure to drop his feet extra loudly.
Razz obviously ignored him the whole time.
An hour later, Red was back. At least he’d stayed over enough to be slowly ditching clothes somewhere in Razz’s house every time. Razz cleaned them and left them in the guest room, which was.. Unused. It’d originally been Slims, as the downstairs guest room had been converted to Satans room, for her comfort. It still had the bed in it, but the sheets and comforter had long since grown covered in her silky fluff. It had multiple cat trees, two nesting boxes, one in a corner covered by a blanket, and the other under the bed. Satan enjoyed it greatly.
Red sniffed himself briefly, scrunching his face up. All of Razz’s soaps were floral in some way, and Red hated it. It wasn’t pleasant to smell on himself. He didn’t like it one bit. He shuffled over, sitting down, trying to not bounce Razz too much when he did. He sighed, looking over at the smaller Sans.
He felt bad for him. Really bad. Razz missed his elder brother, and while Red himself was the older brother, he knew how it was to be shut out. Not quite on the same level, but in his own experience, he’d been distressed. Not knowing where his baby brother was stressed him out. It led to bad habits which led to him pushing his brother away more, refusing help even though he knew he needed it for years. Razz made mistakes, and while that much was obvious, he was still trying to mend those mistakes any way he possibly could, just wanting his brother back. Razz wasn’t used to living alone, Red was well aware of that.
Razz was mostly a shut in. His outside contact was usually for basic needs like food and other items, whether it be for Satan or himself. Before, when Razz and Slim lived together Underground, he had guard duties to attend to. Now, the guard was all but demolished, the members splitting up into different work forces, wherever they felt most comfortable. Razz was left behind, having been preened by their father to be a guard, and by fourteen being in the guard. By sixteen he was a high rank, and by eighteen he was captain. He knew little of how to relax, trained so thoroughly that he couldnt sleep for the most part.
Red pitied him, in a sense. In the same instance, though, Razz made Red want to help in some way. Pushing Razz to accept therapy, to apologize to Blue. He was trying to help him along, give him a path to follow so he could figure things out with his brother once more. Red wasn’t sure how else he could help aside from showing Razz what to do, but he had to try in some way. It felt wrong not to.
He sighed, shifting around and standing up, moving Razz about to be more comfortable, before sitting back down. He leaned on the arm of the couch, propping his head up some and relaxing down. He’d talk to Razz about therapists, and figure it out from there. Get Razz to set up an appointment wouldn’t be too hard. He’d already admitted he needed it, so everything else would be relatively painless.
Red just hoped it’d all work out...