AN: I'm an idiot, I know.

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Chapter 29: Over Thinking and Outburst

 Third POV

The fresh, cold wind howls as it rushes in through the giant, gaping hole in the wall left by a certain creative monster's assault. The snow freely flew in and dances with the breeze before landing ever so softly on the old carpet that covered the floor.

The debris of the wall remained scattered across the floor with a thin sprinkle of snow on the surface which had accumulated upon short amount of time exposed to the outside world weather.

The temperature continuously dropped as the minute passes by.

The warmth was quickly dissipating, taken over by the burning cold seeping through their clothes and settling in their bones.

The previous cozy atmosphere was no longer present inside the log cabin-like house, instead replaced by the freezing outdoor air.

Leaving the occupants of the large wooden home vulnerable and unprotected from the harsh, cold weather.

Especially the small, glitched skeleton since he wasn't wearing any jacket nor have his brother's red tattered scarf with him that always keeps him warm.

A sigh escaped his lips as his skeletal hand wanders to his neck. Half expecting to touch his precious scarf before remembering that it was now permanently gone. Burned to ashes.

He shouldn't have burned it.

No! Geno immediately halted his thoughts upon recognizing the bitter feeling of regret starting to rise within him. No, he can't regret what he'd done!

Geno kept reminding himself the reason for his action in order to fight the regret forming deep within his soul. He forced it back down. Buried it deep inside.

But it was not as easy as it sounds.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath while tightening his arms around himself, he forced his thoughts to silence.

Yet it seems like he wasn't the one in control of his own thoughts as it continues to project his painful memories again and again in an infinite loop. As if his own mind was trying to kill him slowly from the inside.

Stop! He wanted it to stop!

Geno clenched his only visible eye shut. He was starting to doubt if he really did the right thing. He remembers Reaper telling him it was.

He believed him. He clung to his words. Yet now he wasn't so sure anymore.

He wished Reaper was there. To comfort him. To assure him. Without Reaper, there was no one who would keep his thoughts at bay.

"Geno?"

A soft call from the human child snapped Geno back to reality. He opened his eye and looked up from his position on one side of the bright green couch to find Frisk's blurry figure standing before him. He blinked a few times as his vision returned to focus.

The first thing he noticed was that Frisk was looking at him with her eyebrows drawn together and a frown adorning her lips. Behind her, at a distance, there's Sans, standing beside Fell, staring at him with the same worried filled eyes.

At the corner of his vision, there was Stretch, sitting at the bottom of the stairs with one of his elbow propped on his knee and his chin, or jaw, rested on the palm of his hand. He has a seemingly disappointed expression plastered on his face, but it wasn't directed at Geno.

The tall skeleton also seemed uninterested at the moment, gazing at him with bored eyes yet hidden under was a mix of irritation and impatience. Upset that Ink had left to prioritize the others rather than his completely helpless little brother in the hands of the destroyer.

"Are you okay?" Frisk asked quietly as her free hand, the one that was not holding the knife, hover over him. As if she was afraid to touch him.

Geno let out a breath, a puff of cloud formed as he does, and loosened his arms around himself. He noticed that he was slightly heaving for air and his soul was beating a little too fast. Had he been holding his breath?

Or was he unconsciously suffocating himself?

The realization slowly dawned on him. He hadn't, had he? The though of harming himself or even suicide wasn't new to him. But the fact that he had been doing it without even knowing, terrifies him.

It gave off a feeling that he wasn't in control of his own self anymore. That if he weren't careful enough, he could end up hurt, or worse, dead. Because he was well aware of how much damage he could deal with himself.

He took a shuddering breath as tears burned his eye. It was foolish of him to think that just because he let go, doesn't mean it's gone. It's still there. The scars, the memories, the trauma. It's always there.

Nothing has changed.

Everything still remains the same.

His past still continues to haunt him. It has a tight grip on him. It wouldn't let him go. There's no escape.

Out of nowhere, a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and lightly shook him.

Geno snapped his eyes opened, which he had unknowingly closed, allowing the tears to pour down his face. He lifted his head, his gaze traveling up on the figure in front of him.

He found Sans gazing at him with wide eyes and an ugly frown. He looked scared.

"What's wrong?" Sans briskly demanded. His tone was soft yet mildly urgent. When Geno failed to answer Frisk's previous question, Sans knew something was wrong. Upon seeing Geno began crying, curling in on himself and sinking on the soft couch, he immediately rushed over and gently ushered the human child aside to take over the situation.

He called Geno's name for nearly two minutes, waiting for some kind of response. But none had came. Geno only did when the physical contact was made.

But still, Geno's mouth remained shut. He raised his arm and wiped the tears away with the heel of his palm. Refusing to utter a word.

Not because he didn't want to say it, but because he didn't know how to say it. He couldn't exactly explain it. It doesn't help that he was afraid of rejection.

A kind of rejection in which you open up to someone with much courage, tell them your problems in hope that they can help you, but instead, they criticize you, dismissed the issue, and ignore your feelings because they didn't understand your situation.

It was the same feeling as betrayal and Geno doesn't like that all. So, he would rather stay quiet.

Unless it was Reaper.

Because Geno knew the god of death understood him. More than himself.

If Geno doesn't want to talk, Sans wouldn't force him. But while Reaper's not here, Sans is responsible for Geno. He wanted to make up for the horrible sin he almost committed, therefore, in order to redeem himself, he'd keep Geno safe until the god of death returned to prove himself trustworthy enough and that he never meant to cause any harm.

Sans squeezed Geno's shoulders, noting the cold bones underneath the soft cotton fabric of his clothes, scratch that, Reaper's clothes. Sans frowned. Running his hands down Geno's exposed arms, in a not intimate way,to find that the he was freezing.

Looking back at the giant hole in the wall that allows the continuous rush of cold air, Sans cursed. Darn Ink! Turning his head towards the human child on his other side, Sans asked her with urgency in his voice to grab some blanket upstairs for Geno.

Frisk stubbornly shook her head before pointing the tip of the knife at Sans. Implying that he should be the one to fetch it for she would not leave Geno with him.

But, as much as Sans wanted to disappear, literally, even for just a second, he couldn't. Reaper entrusted him to keep an eye out on Stretch. He couldn't leave let his guard down even for just a second.

No, he wasn't exaggerating. Sans knew that Stretch has the same type of power as him. He knew the pros and cons of his magic. A single moment of distraction could make a huge difference.

Without choice, though he was more than willing to, he shrugged off his blue jacket, revealing the plain white shirt underneath and draped it over Geno's shoulders.

Geno hadn't even noticed that he was cold until Sans draped his jacket on his bony shoulders. Warmth enveloped his body and he released a sigh of relief.

Sans seemed satisfied at his work as a small, barely noticeable, smile played on his 'lips'. He was tempted to sit next to the glitched skeleton and wrap his arm around him so they could share their body heat, but resisted the urge for he could feel the human child bore holes on the back of his skull.

Staring at him intently with alertness as if he would do something stupid at any moment. Again.

Well, he won't. 

But simply saying it wouldn't prove anything. Taking a step back, as if he was hesitant, before turning around and walking back to his initial position. Across the room and far from the green couch, beside the edgy skeleton who was sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall that divides the kitchen and living room. The spot where the TV used to be.

Sans sat down beside Fell and shivered as the freezing breeze directly hit his exposed arms. Rubbing his hands against his upper arms, creating friction to produce heat. Too bad, his attempt was futile.

He was mildly surprised as something soft yet heavy was draped on his shoulders. It was a dark jacket with red outline and pale yellow fur on the edge of the hood. It was Fell's jacket.

The jacket was a bit heavier than his own blue ones. Fluffier. It covers nearly his upper body, protecting him from the nipping cold wind.

Sans glanced at Fell to find him only wearing his worn out, red turtleneck sweater made of soft cotton. Sans raised a brow, silently questioning the edgy other. Fell just shrugged before leaning back again against the wall.

"You needed it more than I do." Fell simply said. It was true, though. Plus, Fell still have his sweater to keep him warm.

"Thanks." Sans murmured and slid his arms through the sleeves.

Everything settled down to silence. Nothing but the soft whispers of the wind and the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall.

Geno seemed to be engulfed in another train of thought as he stared at the empty space in front of him. Curling on the couch with his knees drawn close to his chest. Frisk was beside him, acting like a bodyguard with the knife in her small hand. Determination shining in her eyes.

Sans and Fell were settled next to each other on the floor across the room. While Stretch was still sitting on the bottom of the stairs, tapping his foot impatiently and a frown plastered on his face.

He still couldn't believe Ink just left like that, and in a hurry, after knowing that the gods were in trouble. He felt betrayed.

Stretch had asked for Ink's help first, but Ink decided that 'they' are more important. Why? Because Blue was replaceable? Because he can be 'drawn' again and again? Was that it? Has Ink never thought about the great possibility that his brother could be dying right now?

Who knows what would Error do to his brother.

A low growl emanated from his throat as he clenched his free hand tightly into a fist. His tapping foot increases its pace as his patience grew thin.

Where was Ink?! Stretch thought, irritated.

The others, especially Fell, noticed Stretch's 'eagerness' for the creator's return. His action and body language clearly states that he's anxious yet annoyed at the same time.

Fell had only seen Stretch like this for a few times. One was when Stretch found out about Fell's abusive brother. He was beyond frustrated because he couldn't teleport to another universe to give the edgy version of himself a piece of his mind.

Fell turned to Sans and their eyes met. They look at each other as if they were telepathically communicating inside their head.

They both knew that Stretch was just worried for Blue.

Fell got up on his feet and walked over to the skeleton clad in orange hoodie jacket, followed by Sans. Frisk's eyes curiously following them.

"Hey uh..., Stretch", Fell broke the silence as he stood in front of Stretch. His voice has a hint of awkwardness to it due to lack of experience in comforting someone else. Placing a skeletal hand on the taller one's shoulder.

"Don't worry. I'm sure everything's gonna be okay." Fell said. It was Blue's motto. It was what Blue always told him. Fell hoped it works and helps Stretch calm down even for just a bit.

Wrong move.

Stretch's eye brilliantly flared with reddish gold magic. He roughly slapped Fell's hand away and stood up abruptly. His tall height towering over the two shorter skeletons. Stretch glowered at them menacingly.

"Okay? OKAY?! Error took Blue! The motherf**king destroyer took my little brother! How do you expect me to believe that everything's gonna be okay when the destroyer of the universe kidnapped my brother!" Stretch burst out.

Fell shrunk under the tall one's intense glares. For a second there, he thought he saw his Papyrus. A wave of fear washes over him as adrenaline courses through his bones. His body began shaking uncontrollably as beads of sweat formed on his skull.

"Don't you DARE tell me everything's gonna be okay! Blue is out there! With that dam* Error! Who knows what would Error do to him! Blue could be dying right now and here were are, doing nothing! Waiting for someone who obviously DOESN'T EVEN CARE!" Stretch continues.

Fell took a step back as he trembled, his head bowed and kept his arms close to his chest. Memories flashing in his head. The pain. The torture. It began resurfacing in his mind. "I'm sorry." Fell whispered barely audible. He sounded scared and guilty.

An arm landed across Fell's tensed shoulders and said edgy skeleton jolted at the sudden contact. He looked up to the owner of the arm. It was Sans.

And he doesn't look happy.

Sans pulled Fell closer to his side, as if to assure the latter that he wouldn't let this Papyrus hurt him.

"Listen here, buddy..." Sans started. His voice low with a hint of edge. "If you can't tell, Fell was just trying to comfort you."

"I don't f**king care! I don't need it! What I need is my brother! I need to save Blue, now!" Stretch hollered at the two.

"And how are you going to that?" Sans' instant come back. "Even Ink couldn't beat Error. Much less a mortal like you. Do you really think that you stand a chance against the destroyer?" Sans asked in an almost mocking tone.

Stretch hissed in annoyance, but remained silent. Unable to answer the question. How was he going to fight Error?

Wait...

Maybe...

Stretch eyes traveled across the room, to the bright green couch where Geno was, watching their argument with concern in his only eye.

Maybe he doesn't have to fight Error.

 To be continued...

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AN: Do you like Crossmare or Cream?