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“Sans you useless bag of bones!” Papyrus shouted, stomping his foot against the ground. He spun around and glared harshly at his brother whose head snapped up at his brother's voice.
“What the hell do you-”
“Pick up your own damn mess!” Papyrus ordered, pointing a finger at the pile of dirty clothes littering their floor.
Papyrus spent countless hours each week keeping their small and filthy house clean. He scrubbed relentlessly against the ever-growing mold. His knees were red and sore from cleaning the permanently stained floor. The tips of his phalanges ached from reaching up higher than he thought possible in attempts to fix the cracks and faded, patchy wallpaper. Their apartment was falling apart and barely standing but Papyrus did all he could. He'd stomp his feet off before entering to prevent mud tracks from staining their ruined carpet. His clothes were always folded and put away neatly so their small floor space would not be shrunken even more-so. He bathed frequently despite the nonexistent hot water so his smell would not linger on the couch or in the air, adding more odor to the already questionable scent. Papyrus prided himself on making their situation as best as possible, yet his brother acted as if he did not even care.
Sans didn't lift a finger to help him. He didn't even so much as glance at the other who would spend all his free time fixing their garbage heap of a home. Sans would never stomp his feet before entering, ruining Papyrus' freshly washed floor. Sans would toss his clothes anywhere so that not even an inch of flooring was visible. He'd hardly even bathed, the couch reeking of his horrid stench and sweat that would linger on this dirty clothes and infect the air. Sans did nothing to help and Papyrus was sick of it.
He was tired of being pushed around and ignored. Tired of being taken advantage of. Tired of being weak. This was his house too! Sans would die without him around to take care of him! The least he could do was pick up his damn clothes!
Sans scoffed, rolling his eyes and Papyrus glared harshened.
“I don't have time-” Papyrus tensed, pupils hot with anger.
“I don't need your excus-” Papyrus was cut off when Sans grabbed the front of his jacket and yanked him forward, fingers curling around the fabric as he sneered.
“You are a really ungrateful kid,” he spat, his smile tense. “I'm working my ass off to pay rent. Is that not enough for you?” Papyrus scowled, hands coming up, ready to shove Sans off of him.
“Work?!” He cried, outraged by what his sibling said. “You mean whoring yourself around the mutts?” He spat and Sans tensed, fingers tearing the fabric in his grip. “Tired from getting fucked all day!?”
“You really wanna get kicked out, don't 'cha?” Sans said in a menacing tone. Papyrus did not waver, Sans' threats were empty. Papyrus knew how valuable he was. He didn't mean to lower himself, not in front of his brother. He was the staple of this household. He cleaned. He cooked. He took care of everything including his brother. He may be younger and smaller, but he was tired of being his brother's slave!
“At least I can survive alone!” Papyrus shot back and his brother flinched. Sans loathed being reminded of his crippling soul. Papyrus knew using it against him was a low blow but he was so fed up. Sans' smile vanished as he shoved his brother to the floor. Papyrus stumbled back and fell with a thud. Sans turned away, a scoff escaping him as he peered down at his sibling.
“You know,” he began, “for being a brat that talks back so much, you sure are quiet around him, aren't you?” Now it was Papyrus' turn to flinch.
A phantom pain flared up in his skull where his still healing crack was. A permanent scar of his weakness and pathetic self. Papyrus could still vividly see the monster responsible towering over him. Their glowing, red eyes sharp and narrow as they sneered down at Papyrus like he was fresh meat. He could feel the impact and still hear the echo of his own skull cracking.
It kept him up at night. The fear he still felt. The anger at himself for being so weak. The self-loathing at how pathetic he was. Weak, just like his brother.
Papyrus turned away, feeling the urge to cry burn the back of his throat and sockets. He refused to. Not after last time, when he laid on the playground floor, sobbing helplessly.
No. Papyrus would not allow himself to be that weak again.
“Shut up.” He said shakily, all his spark leaving, their feud finished. He curled up, knees against his chest and eyes on the floor.
He didn't need a reminder of weakness from his brother of all people. It only depressed him more. Papyrus refused to end up like his sibling, but every single time he caught a glimpse of the crack in his skull he knew he'd end up exactly like him.
Dependent. Weak. Helpless.
“Papyrus,” Sans called softly, standing before his brother. “Did something happen?”
Papyrus held his breath as fresh memories flashed before him. The true reason behind his outburst. Why he snapped and ran out of patience. Why he was so sick of being a feeble, submissive, sack of bones.
He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away even more, refusing to speak of it.
“It's not like you care.” He shot back in a wavering tone. “Not like you could do anything even if something did.” Sans frowned.
“That ain't true,” Sans defended. “Pap, what happened?”
“It's none of your concern,” Papyrus mumbled, standing up.
“Yeah, it is,” Sans argued, grabbing his arm and preventing him from leaving. “You're my brother. Let me help.”
“Since when has that ever mattered.” Papyrus barked, yanking his arm away. “I've been taking care of myself just fine. I don't need your help!”
“That damn crack says else-wise!” Sans shot back, his exhaustion making his patience thinner than he'd like.
“And where were you when that happened?!” Papyrus shouted causing Sans to take a step back. “Off getting fucked by the entire guard, no doubt! I got myself up. I cleaned myself up. I saved myself without your help at all!” Sans looked hurt and for once, Papyrus felt in control. He felt power. He had the upper-hand!
“That's not true!”
“Oh right, sorry brother. I forgot your ever so powerful healing magic!” Papyrus mocked. The domination was fueling him. Telling him to hurt, to attack, to fight and inflict damage like everyone had done to him. “Thank you for stopping the bleeding. Too bad the scar is forever. But I guess we match, now don't we?” Sans winced, hand going up to cover the scar over his own socket. Papyrus' arms trembled by his side, filled with so much rage and anger. He found no enjoyment in it anymore, just hate and misery all directed at the only monster close to him.
His stupid, weak, brother. Too weak to defend himself. Too lazy to clean. Too tired to be a brother. Too stupid to get a good job. Too pathetic to quit the one he had. He had no dignity, no fight, no strength, nothing. He was the laughing stock of the entire Underground and the sole reason Papyrus' life was so miserable. Day in and day out he had to hear about his whore of a brother burying the family is so much shame Papyrus couldn't even see the surface. And Papyrus would be just like him.
No. He'd sooner dust himself. Weakness may have run in the family before, but Papyrus rejected it with all his might. He wouldn't end up like his brother. He'd rise above him, above them all.
“You want to help me, brother?” Papyrus asked bitterly. Sans' averted gaze shifted over to him as Papyrus reached down and picked up a discarded shirt. “Then pick up your fucking clothes.” He threw it at his brother who caught it in a fumble, staring after his brother who stormed away to his room.