Chapter Text
Many months ago, you had established a routine that you followed five out of seven days a week.
You'd wake up, get ready, go to your job, and when it came time, you'd retrace the same path through the city home. You had lived in the city for a little over two years, and so you knew the streets that were better to take - the ones with less people, that were typically barren in the early morning and late afternoon.
Not that there were many people in your small city - you exaggerated when you thought that, it was more like a small- to medium-sized town. But you liked to keep to yourself most of the time, seeing as you weren't that sociable.
It was different now, though. Not the unsociable part, but... pretty much everything else.
The monsters that had lived undergroud - that had been forced to spend their lifetimes there - had been freed from that bind. And your little town was a popular place for them, seeing as the area happened to be almost right on top of their home.
You didn't mind them - you could even say that you liked them. It added a diversity to the population, and although you hadn't become friends with any yet, the ones you'd casually chatted with were always amiable enough.
Not to mention that you'd always thought the whole "monster-human war" had been a little unnecessary.
With the monsters' return to the surface, though, your routine that you had followed months ago had changed, as well.
Every day now, as you walked to work on the empty back streets, you'd walk past a hotdog stand. It was odd that it was on a street where practically no one but you would walk, but you figured maybe it picked up business more while you were at work. It was small, and compact. Just like the owner of the stand.
You figured the short skeleton was the owner, at least. He was there every time you went to work, and every time you were on your way home. He never said anything to you, and when you would walk past his stand he was always either smiling at you as you walked by or sleeping, his head on the stand's counter.
And it was no different this morning when you ran down the street - running, because earlier that morning when it was time to get up, you'd turned your alarm off and went back to sleep, waking up very late. Too close to cut it.
As you quickly made your way down the street, you saw him come into view, just like every morning, behind his little operation. The smell of the freshly-cooked dogs wafted into your nose, the wind blowing towards you, and your stomach groaned.
Right. You hadn't had breakfast.
You slowed to a stop when you were near the stand, bringing your phone out of your pocket and checking the time. You could spare a minute to buy some food. Just one. And although you weren't a huge fan of hotdogs, it'd have to make due.
As you approached the stand, already fishing money out of your other pocket, he stared at you for a moment before speaking.
"Finally buying a 'dog, huh?" He commented, and you were none too surprised to find that he had a deep, slow voice. It suited him.
"Yeah, I'm running late for work - no time for breakfast - just ketchup, please?" Your words came out as a flurry compared to his, your rush causing you to talk much faster than you normally would.
Surprisingly, he was timely in getting the order together, though as you got some money out finally, you could hear him stifle a yawn behind his boney hand, the hotdog extended to you with the other. "Hm. A dollar for the dogger, bud."
You slapped a dollar on the counter, and was about to take the offered hot dog when it slipped from his grasp, and you watched it as it bounced off the counter and onto the ground. You were about to comment when not a second later, a hard "thunk" was heard, and looking up, you saw that his head had slammed onto the counter, along with his extended arm, and his body slumped against it awkwardly.
"Oh man," You said simply, staring wide in awe. Ignoring the fact that you were going to be late for work, you leaned down a tad, getting eye-level with his head. "Hey, uh, are you alright?"
There was no reply, but you could see the steady rise and fall of his shoulders and back, covered by that thick coat, so you figured that at least he hadn't suddenly died.
You stood up and looked around, and suddenly regretted the fact that you traveled such a deserted street as there was no one on it to assist.
You bit your lip nervously, looking back down at the slumped skeleton. You didn't know what to do or what was wrong with him - he looked to be peacefully sleeping, but he'd hit his skull hard on the counter, it sounded like.
You'd seen him too often to just leave him left alone in this state (whatever that was).
You looked around once more, just to confirm that you were the only one around, before finally making a final decision. You pulled out your phone, going into your contacts and calling the right number.
"Uh, hey. I don't think I'll be coming into work today." You looked down at the snoozing monster who may or may not have inflicted a concussion onto himself. "Family emergency. ... Thanks. See you tomorrow."
You put your phone back into your pocket, sighing lamely.
Your house wasn't far from here, you figured. No more than a five-minute walk. You could carry him there, get him some frozen peas - did they even feel pain? Or get injuries? - and maybe get that hotdog on a raincheck.
... Hell, you didn't even want the hotdog anymore. "Good Samaritan" was a special-enough reward, you thought as you walked around to the back of the stall. The skeleton was sitting on a stool, and you vaguely remembered an anatomy class you'd taken in college - bones made up around 15% of a person's total mass. Considering that he was not a person and had no fat or organs, he couldn't be all that heavy to carry. Forty pounds at the most. You could do that.
Your thoughts were confirmed as you carefully lifted him into your arms bridal-style. Thirty pounds, roughly.
As you abandon the stand and make your way back home with the hotdog-selling skeleton sleeping soundly in your arms, you can only pray that he doesn't wake up before you arrive home, sparing you an akward moment.
You really weren't up for that. Today had been stressful enough, as is.
As the chilly fall air whipped around you and the bundle of skeleton in your arms, you felt determination surge up in your body.