The Reader's really rough around the edges here, too.
-

"Fuck," you hiss under your breath. Your leg is bleeding heavily, the warm liquid seeping through your torn jeans and onto the palm of your hand, sticky and wet. It burns- and the gash is deep. You had grown up here in the underground- very accustomed to the fights and the dust and how you had to keep your guard up at all times.

This fight had ended well- you had been able to intimidate the monster attacking you with your tall stature and cold gaze, but it appearances alone wasn't going to heal the gash their sharp claws had left on your flesh. Your blood tainted the snow a crimson red. You'd have to ruin yet another of your shirts to cover the wound.

Of course this would happen now, of all times.

-

"what th' fuck happened to ya'?!"

ugh.

You didn't want to deal with this- sure, Sans was a bastard, but he was stupidly protective and you hated it. Most monsters perceived you as weak due to your lack of magic and low LV, but you didn't want your best friend to treat you like a delicate flower either. "I'm fine." You grumble, carefully limping up the stairs to go to the bathroom they never used and take their medical supplies.

You weren't going to try and make it back to your apartment in this condition. Snowdin's temperature was always below zero and it would be insane to even think about trying to walk back while bleeding out. Monsters, especially animal type monsters, had a superior sense of smell.

Even Sans, apparently. Although he didn't have a nose. The protective fucker smelled the blood on you as soon as you had opened the door to his house (uninvited, but neither Sans nor Papyrus complained about it anymore.)

He was following you, hovering. A slightly worried expression was painted onto his face when he sees you stumble and bite your lip as you stifle a whimper. The two of you knew you had an embarrassingly low pain tolerance, but this world had no place for the weak.

"what tha' fuck," he breathes. "sit down, i'll heal ya."

"I don't need your help, Sans." You say. You hadn't even made it halfway up the stairs yet, holding onto the railing and trembling. Pathetic pathetic, I'm so incredibly pathetic.

"y' look like ye'r 'bout ta pass out, the fuck you mean 'yer fine'?!" He yells, angrily stomping on the ground. It would have been funny- it wasn't something Sans did often, more something his brother would do, but it happened sometimes. It was always funny to watch. He groaned angrily. "and stop fuckin' laughin! dumbass human, making me do all this shit..." he grumbled, tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carrying you up the stairs.

How even???? What the fuck?? Sans is shorter than you!

"Sans! Put me down, you motherfucker!"

"no," he said forcefully. You still fight against him, but he manages to bring you to the bathroom, and set you down on the toilet (which was closed) so he could rummage through the cabinet over the sink for painkillers and isopropyl. "damn, papyrus keeps organizing all this shit. can't find nothin' in this house."

"What are you doing? Just heal me already, numbskull." You cross your arms and glare angrily. The shark toothed skeleton rolls his eyes at you and scoffs, continuing to search. "You don't need painkillers and antiseptic and shit."

"you've gotta disinfect it first," he grumbles, tossing an orange bottle filled with chalky white pills to you, and you take them and swallow one without any water. "if ya don't the cut can still get infected. my healing magic is shit."

"Fitting for somebody like you."

"heh, guess that means we're two of a kind, eh, sweetheart?" He takes the bottle of alcohol and dumps it onto the cut and you nearly scream, pained tears blooming in the corners of your eyes. GODDAMN IT THAT FUCKING HURTS!

"A-ASSHOLE!" You yell at him. You're slamming your hands against the toilet seat to push through the pain. If looks could kill, Sans would have been very, very dead a very long time ago. "You didn't have to use the whole bottle, you bitch!"

"yep, i know. but i had to get back at ya for dumping that boiling water on me the other day~" he chuckles, placing his hands to you leg and carefully healing it. "anyway, ain'cha feelin' better now?"

"No the fuck I'm not."

"well, alright, but i'm not helpin ya next time." He rolls his eyes, grin falling into a much smaller smile, but it was still a smile nonetheless. "stupid human."

"I'm fucking glad," You growl, a little smile of your your own growing on your face. "Idiot monster."