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Sniper was relaxing on one of his familiar perches, like any other day. A can of some obscure blue colored energy drink held loosely in his hand, and his rifle beside him as he looked out over the city, the setting sun casting a warm light over the buildings. He sighed, enjoying some time to himself before his next job.
Sniper was considered one of the best marksmen in all of the monster kingdom. Well, before his injury he was at least. Nowadays he flies under the radar, only taking the odd job every now and then. The pay’s good, so it’s hard to say no. Some days he wonders if he prefers it the way it is now, or if he misses the limelight.
Granted, he never really enjoyed taking hits or bounty hunting, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t give him quite the rush when he was on a hunt. Even better if the person he was targeting had some skills too. No one could ever outmatch him though, and it seemed like the whole kingdom knew it.
Maybe that’s why he failed. How funny, one slip up cost him his eye. He thought he was untouchable, that there was no one who could have possibly been better… and then…?
Bang.
Just like that. Sniper idly scratched under his damaged eye socket at the memory. The healed injury felt as if it ached every time he remembered. Being entirely honest, Sniper didn’t remember much after the initial shot. He remembered waking up back at Alphys’ lab, his brother by his side. Paps was overjoyed when he saw Sniper awake, and was practically a blur as he rushed out to find Alphys.
When Alphys explained his injuries, Sniper listened with half a figurative ear. The only thing sticking with him being the fact that he would never be able to properly see out of his right eye anymore. That was all he could think about for days after he woke up. He couldn’t aim properly with a damaged eye, and his depth perception was entirely thrown off.
Not only that, but Sniper’s HP was also permanently damaged. He was stuck with a measly 1HP, and no amount of healing will do anything to change that. Alphys said it was due to the kind of bullet he was shot with. Everyone told him how lucky he was to be alive.
Sniper had never felt more lifeless.
Taking another drink of his energy drink, Sniper heaved a heavy sigh. The sun had nearly set, and the fading light cast shadows across the entire city. He liked watching the sunsets when he got the chance. Sitting on rooftops, feeling the breeze, and watching the people below gave him a sense of peace.
He shut his eye sockets, remembering his first few days after waking up. He bumped into door frames more often than he’d like to admit, but adjusting wasn’t very difficult. It took him a few weeks at most to get used to the lack of visibility in one eye. For a while he wore an eyepatch. Papyrus said it made him look almost as cool as Undyne.
...Sniper stopped wearing the eyepatch.
Regardless of how he was physically healing, Sniper never felt quite the same. He spent more time at Grillby’s, and avoided the shooting range like the plague. He’d even locked up his rifle in the basement. Now it wasn’t as if Papyrus wasn’t relieved that Sniper wasn’t trying to get back into the fray after such a serious injury, and he certainly didn’t want him taking any more jobs with his low HP, but Sniper wasn’t himself anymore.
He was moping around, drinking, and wasn’t even slightly interested in telling his jokes anymore! Everything came to a head for Papyrus when he asked Sniper to pick up his stray glove he’d left on the floor for months, only for him to actually pick it up! Papyrus knew he had to do something.
Papyrus had brought Sniper out one day and surprised him by taking him to the shooting range. He’d even rented Sniper a rifle for the range! Sniper initially refused, but Papyrus wouldn’t let him leave until he at least tried to shoot. They sat there at the range until nearly closing before Sniper picked up the gun.
He remembered his first shots missing terribly. He was frustrated and angry at Papyrus for bringing him there. He stormed out once his time was up, and swore he wouldn’t go back. Papyrus, however, was not a quitter. He would find any and all excuses to get Sniper back into the range. He would trick and scheme, getting any and all monsters he could to help force Sniper in front of a target.
Eventually Sniper stopped resisting, convinced if he at least went that Papyrus would shut up about it. Despite his anger at Papyrus’ shenanigans, Sniper remembers the feeling he got when he actually hit the target for the first time after the accident. Soon enough, him and Papyrus going to the range was a near daily experience. He would practice for a while under Papyrus’ watch, his younger brother’s encouragement keeping him from putting the gun down.
It didn’t take long after that for him to start going on his own.
It wasn’t easy, and it certainly wasn’t a quick transition from his right to left, but Sniper kept at it. It took years of practice before he started accepting jobs again. At his brother’s request, he only accepted low risk ones. Not that any high end clients would hire a Sniper with such a scar. His broken eye socket was a sign of failure that no one could miss.
Despite those drawbacks, Sniper was Determined to get better.
Sniper stood up from the ledge he was sitting on, the sun now below the horizon and the city overshadowed by night. The lights in the city were bright enough, however, that there was no lack of light for the citizens despite the darkened sky. A short break was all this was, and Sniper had to get back to work.
He had a job to do.