#i knew it would happen but i searched chicory on here and thought 'i bet it'll be a lot of characters from media' and it was 👍

[parakeetpark]

Tried chicory for the first time and it makes a lovely evening drink, almost like caramel? Or something else I can't put my finger on?

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Terms of Engagement ch.7

Summary: Rus is still a kid himself and with his life turned upside-down, he has no idea how he’s going to take care of his baby brother. Having other kid skeletons appear in his world wasn’t exactly the help he was looking for.

Tags: Pre-Spicyhoney, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Undertale Sans, Undertale Papyrus, Babybones, Scientist W. D. Gaster, Possible Past Child Abuse, Skellie Daycare, Growing Up Together, Big Brothers Caring For Their Little Bros, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Violence

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | 

Chapter Six

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Read Chapter Seven on AO3

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Read It Here!

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The artificial light streaming in through the window was already conspiring to wake Rus when the kicked open door finished the job. He groaned aloud, rolling over and yanking the blanket over his head as he mumbled, “c’mon, bro, five more minutes.”

“Is that how you always greet Blue in the morning? Because if so, you and my brother have a great deal more in common than I thought.”

That deep, raspy voice was nothing like the sweeter, higher version of Blue’s. Rus scrambled to sit up, fighting free of the tangled blankets and choking back a scream as he met a pair of crimson eye lights set in a scarred face.

Memory jolted into place and shame came fast on its heels, fuck, how would that have made Edge feel, that the sight of his face scared the shit out of him? Wasn’t like the scars were the kid’s fault or his LV, if Rus was understanding things right.

Edge’s mouth twisted wryly and Rus’s soul ached guiltily. Might not have hidden that as well as he hoped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. How are you feeling?”

“fine,” Rus croaked, sounding exactly like shit. “better, i mean.”

“Hm.” Edge sat on the side of the bed, his bed, Rus realized, made in the form of a race car like Blue’s was of a Volkswagen beetle. Always those almost similarities, younger brothers instead of older, turn left instead of right, their worlds not the same but still not exactly different.

Edge pulled up the blanket enough to expose his ankle. The testing pressure of his fingers made Rus wince. “Still a little bruised, but you should be all right.” That touch lingered, soothing over the dark spots mottling the bone, until Rus shifted uncomfortably. Then Edge drew away, straightening. “Red wanted to speak with you.”

“yeah, i bet.” Maybe in the time Rus was asleep, he’d come up with some ideas on how the hell he was going to get home. Edge went over to the closet, rummaging through looked like a sparse selection, and finally brought back a neat stack of clothes.

“Here, you’d probably like to change. I’ll wait outside the door if you need help down the stairs.”

“thanks,” Rus said, weakly. Edge only nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

The pants fit at the hips well enough, but Rus had to cuff them to keep from dragging on the floor. That was a novel experience, not too many Monsters back home were taller than him, especially not Blue.

He paused to think of his brother, closing his sockets. Right about now Blue would usually be waking him up to head out to his sentry post. Not today, today he was worried, maybe out searching the woods for him. maybe he’d been searching since last night. There was no way of knowing when Blue discovered he was actually missing and not just slacking off over in one of the Hotland posts, selling hot cats for an extra buck. He knew his brother, so well, and Blue would be frantic by now, Snowdin would have been searched from top to bottom and there was no way to let him know Rus was all right.

Well, mostly all right.

Rus sighed shakily and pulled the shirt Edge gave him over his head. He couldn’t worry about Blue now, worry wasn’t gonna get him home. But as he pulled on the shirt, he could smell the same laundry detergent his brother used, exactly the same, and by the time he yanked it down to his waist, Rus was angrily swiping away tears.

Time to get downstairs and start planning.

He limped his way cautiously to the door and happened to catch sight of himself in the mirror over the dresser. If he sounded like shit, he looked worse, but that wasn’t what froze him. The shirt was plain cotton, worn to softness over many washes, and looked as if once it proclaimed the wearer to be a ‘cool dude’. That was slashed across with red paint and bold penmanship declared overtop, “Bad Ass!”

It made him smile, a little sadly. The Edge he’d met yesterday seemed like the type to wear something like this but it was hard to reconcile that with the sweet kid he’d known, the one who was so awed by his first bisicle.

(I’m going to marry you, Russy.)

Rus shoved that memory back into the mental box at the back of his mind and headed out the door. Edge was waiting and again Rus was struck by how damn tall he was. It was one thing to notice it when he was sitting down, something else entirely when Rus was standing next to him and actually had to look up.

“Let me help you,” Edge said, reaching for him. Rus shied back, almost stumbling as his weak ankle protested.

“no! No, i’m good, thanks, i got it.”

If he didn’t already feel like shit, then the flutter of emotion that crossed Edge’s face would’ve done the job. The briefest flicker of obvious hurt, quickly masked.

Rus swallowed hard, “sorry, i didn’t mean--”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Edge said gruffly. He went past Rus, keeping a careful distance between them and headed downstairs.

Well, fuck.

He was feeling raw and unnerved, but there was no reason to take it out on the guy who was only trying to help him. Rus heaved a mental sigh and hobbled down after Edge, following him into the kitchen.

Red was already sitting at the table and the spread of food around him made Rus stare in drooling shock. There was a heaping plate of pancakes, melting butter oozing down the sides from the top of the stack. A plateful of brown sausages next to a bowl of cheery yellow scrambled eggs, golden hash browns, and fluffy biscuits alongside an open jar of bright red jam, a sticky spoon poking out of the top.

“mornin', bean pole,” Red mumbled, shoveling in another bite. “grab a plate and we’ll talk.”

Rus didn’t have a stomach to rumble, but damn if his soul didn’t give a lurch like it was about to hop out and load up a plate of its own. Rus hastily grabbed a plate and filled it, moaning aloud as he scooped up his first bite of syrupy pancake.

“this is so good,” Rus said around the mouthful. The look Edge sent him was so much like Blue, a pointed ‘Really? Those are your manners?’ stare, that he couldn’t help grinning sheepishly, swallowing before he repeated. “it’s great. considering some of the crap you cooked up back in the day, i gotta say, seeing you making decent food is probably the freakiest thing here.”

“nah, this ain't me,” Red said around his chewing. Edge swatted him on the back of the skull. Looked like he was less restrained with challenging his brother’s manners. Red swallowed and gave him an unapologetic grin. “sorry, bro. anyway, i don’t do the cooking, ‘bout all i can handle is reheating and dishes.”

“oh.” Rus managed a smile for Edge, trying not to let his gaze linger on the heavy crack through his socket. There was no good way to explain that it wasn’t the scar that put him off, it was what it meant. That innocent kid suffering and some part of Rus still believed he could’ve stopped it. If only, if only, and yeah, he hated that crack, hated it. But for right now, delicious pancakes were the game. ”edge, this is really amazingly good.”

“Thank you.” To Rus’s delight, his cheek bones went faintly pink. That scarred face was like a mask overtop the kid he’d known and every once in a while, the kid would peek out shyly. “This is somewhat more expansive than we’d normally have, but since we have a guest for breakfast--”

Red interrupted with a loud guffaw, “yeah, he put on the ritz for you. stay as long as you like if it’s gonna get me this kind of spread.”

Delicious as the food was, that reminder made Rus’s appetite wane. He managed a few more bites, not wanting to waste the food when he damn well knew himself how scarce supplies could be from time to time. In the end, Rus had to push his plate away, only half-eaten. Red was already finished, his plate practically licked clean and Edge only began eating after they finished, polishing off the cooling food and, yeah, maybe his manners were a little better but he still ate hungrily.

Red poured out coffee from a carafe, pushing mugs around the table. “okay, rus. now that we’ve got the eats outta the way, we need to figure out how the hell you got here. i’m guessin' you weren’t trying to show up at our door.”

Rus shook his head. “sorry, but no.” He took a sip of the coffee and almost gagged, “what the fuck is that?!”

“Chicory,” Edge said. He didn’t even bother to stifle his amusement and Rus pretended not to see he was finishing off the leftovers from Rus’s plate. “It’s easier to get and cheaper than coffee, but it does take some getting used to. Here.” He went to a tall cupboard and rummaged, bringing back a small jar. It was honey and Rus took it gratefully, stirring in a healthy (or not so much) spoonful. His next sip was still lingering bitter, but not quite that dark-roasted nightmare of the first.

“happy now?” Red asked lazily.

Rus was about to answer when Edge said, stiffly, “Yes.”

“good, then let’s get started.” Red leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees and his crimson gaze intent, “start from the beginning. tell me everythin', every detail, don’t care if you think it’s stupid, got me?”

So Rus did. Every detail, from getting up that morning, the way he’d been thinking about him and Edge, remembering them for no particular reason he could come up with. The way he’d felt agitated, almost urged to head downstairs to check on the machine. Despite what Red said, he still felt stupid describing how the machine made him feel, like it wanted to be used.

But the Fell brothers only listened intently and Edge nodded grimly as Rus haltingly explained how just being around the machine made his bones crawl.

“...and that was when i shortcutted out. i was trying to shortcut out to my sentry station, but--”

“wait,” Red interrupted, latching onto that eagerly, his sockets narrowing. “shortcut?”

With a jolt, Rus realized Red hadn’t been there when Sans taught him and it seemed he hadn’t figured it out on his own. “um, yeah, it’s kinda like teleporting. sans figured it out and he showed me how, before we shut down the machines.”

“Like teleporting?” Edge paused as he was clearing the table with a stack of plates in his hands. He looked a hellava lot more shocked than Red, sockets wide and astonished.

Red waved it off. “not that much of a surprise, bro, we know the docs were tryin' to find a way outta the barrier. okay,” Red said, slowly. “so you usually take a shortcut to your sentry station. you ever shortcut around the machine before?”

“loads of times,” Rus shrugged. “that’s how i got the damn thing to snowdin to begin with, i don’t even know how you two managed to move it.”

“we’ll go back to that. show me how a shortcut works.”

“now?”

Red raised brow bone and asked with sardonic politeness, “you wanna get home to blue?”

“um, yeah.” Guess Red had some asshole left in him. Rus looked around uncertainly. “i’ll go out to the living room?”

“wherever works, try it.”

Rus nodded and took a deep breath. Shortcutting was easy once you knew the trick of it. Drawing on his magic, the picture of where firmly in his mind, and all he needed to do was step through the void and--

Rus choked on a scream, every atom in his body felt like it was tearing itself apart from the inside in agonizing slow motion. The sear of pain blinded him and he nearly fell, saved only by Edge catching his arm and hauling him back upright. Thoughtlessly, Rus lurched into those strong arms, clinging as the pain slowly, slowly ebbed. They slipped around him after a startled moment, then pulled him in close, settling Rus to sit on bony legs as Edge murmured soft, wordless noises of comfort.

“oh, oh fuck,” Rus sobbed. His hands fisted into the shirt beneath his cheek bone. Little aftershocks were still spiking through him, vicious needle jabs of pain. “oh, that hurt so much.”

“easy, easy,” Red said, behind him, clearly upset, “shit, sorry! i thought somethin' might happen but I didn’t expect that!”

Rus barely heard him. He looked up at Edge, his vision blurred with tears as he whispered hoarsely, “i can’t shortcut.”

He’d been able to shortcut for some fifteen years now, it was his escape, his power, and to lose it felt like he really had lost a leg.

“I’m so sorry,” Edge said, softly. Offering gentle sympathy even though his face was proof he’d gone through so much more than Rus could imagine.

Thoughtlessly, Rus raised a hand, tracing that crack through his socket with a timid fingertip. He’d kept it for the effect, Edge said, offered to let Rus kiss it to make it better. That socket widened but Edge didn’t draw away, let him trace the ragged line down his cheek bone.

Then his sense kicked back in and Rus realized he was damn well sitting in Edge’s lap, groping his face like some kind of pervert.

Rus took a deep, shuddery breath and lurched unsteadily to his feet. “can i go outside and smoke here?”

“sure, go ahead,” Red said. His crimson eye lights searched Rus’s face carefully. “don’t wander too far from the house.”

Rus nodded and fled.

He walked slowly upstairs to get his cigarettes, where once he would have simply shortcutted up. Didn’t think about that, only rummaged through his hoodie for his smokes and lighter.

Downstairs, he hesitated at the front door. His shoe was stained with marrow, dried into dark splotches. Rus’s mouth tightened grimly as he shoved his bruised foot into it anyway, not bothering to tie them as he slipped out the door. The artificial light was at its highest, close to simulated noon, damn, he had slept a long time.

Rus dusted off the porch and sat down, shaking out a cigarette and lighting it despite the trembling flame of his lighter. The first rush of nicotine into his magic soothed him and Rus sat there, smoking quietly, but he couldn’t quite relax. He could still feel the low thrum of the shielding magic around the house, essentially checking and rechecking him for Intent, and finally, Rus stood and took a few steps away until the feeling faded.

From here, he could get a pretty good look at the town. If it was maybe a little dingy-er than his version of Snowdin, that wasn’t the only change. Instead of the bright, elegant sign lettering for Muffet’s Bakery, there was bold, plain one declaring itself as Grillby’s. He was too far away to see inside, but the Monster stumbling out the door didn’t look like they’d stopped in for a pastry.

The only Grillbie he knew was a Fire Monster who lived over in Hotland and she wouldn’t have been caught alive in Snowdin, since she was pretty much sure the snow would snuff her out two steps in.

He wondered if this world’s Muffet was in Hotland, if she ran her bakery out there and did she stop at a sentry station sometimes for a hotcat, or whatever they had here? Was Edge friends with this Grillby, did he stop in to get all the gossip? What else was not quite the same, tipped to one side and wrong? He didn’t know, but it was something to think about, wasn’t it. Better than remembering that he was stuck here and the wall surrounding Snowdin was in sight, a magic-soaked barrier to keep out whatever horrors lived in the Woods.

He stood there, lost in his wondering with nothing but miserable time to do it in, and that was how the children found him. The same kids he’d seen yesterday or maybe not, Rus couldn’t be sure.They approached him curiously, warily, all of them in worn clothes showing neat patches and clomping around in an older siblings’ hand-me-down boots. But their cheeks were full and their eyes were bright, interested in this new stranger in their midst. The pack of them were standing around the mailboxes, huddling together as if by sticking close, maybe Rus wouldn’t see them staring.

They almost looked familiar, another sidestep away from his world.

“hey,” Rus called out to them. A half dozen pairs of eyes went wide, one kid muffling a startled shriek and Rus shook his head. Kids. Looked like they were about the same even in different universes. He crouched to put out his cigarette in the snow before shoving the butt into his pocket. “hey, you guys want to see a magic trick?”

That got ‘em. Rus reached into his pocket and pulled out a G coin, weaving it easily through his fingers. It was a cheap trick but it do look impressive to a kid, and soon the boldest of them left the herd, creeping in closer to watch with wide eyes as Rus spun the gold piece through his fingers, walking it across his knuckles in a spin and a dance.

Since he didn’t grab the brave one and eat him or something, the other kids seemed to decide he was safe enough. They all crept closer, a collection of wide eyes and runny noses, watching as he switched hands, staring as that coin pirouetted and twirled across the backs of his fingers.

He ended with a flourish, the coin spinning up high for Rus to snatch out of the air. He bowed grandly and the kids gave him a smattering of applause.

“ah, but i’m not finished! watch this.”

He crouched down next to the bold kid and showed him the coin. “i bet you can blow this coin away. wanna try?”

The kid nodded furiously and Rus went through the whole show of it. Waving it around so all the kids could see, carefully palming it before holding out his empty fist for the kid to blow on. The round of gasps that came when he opened his hand to show the ‘vanished’ coin was better than any applause from doing card tricks at the NTT resort.

“oh, but wait!” Rus reached behind the kid’s head and ‘plucked’ the coin from thin air, showing it to them all. “Didn’t get far, did it? Here, kid.” He flipped the coin and it spun in the air, head over tails. The kid fumbled for it, wide eyes shining almost as much as the coin.

“For me?”

Again, that memory of the bisicle, of Edge’s low, childish whisper as if he couldn’t believe anything so wonderful could be his. This time it was almost paralyzing, Rus standing with his grin frozen even as the child’s smile began to wobble.

“um. yeah.” Rus fumbled for words before that smile could disappear. “yeah, it’s...it’s all yours, big guy.”

The kid didn’t even say thank you and Rus didn’t give a shit. It was all right there, in those wide, wide eyes and all the kids surrounded him as they walked away, chattering excitedly. Rus watched them go, the turmoil of his emotions swerving into a new direction.

“That’s the second time I’ve seen that trick and I’m still not sure how you did it.”

If he wasn’t already a skeleton, Rus would have jumped out of his fucking skin. As it was, he jerked so hard he almost toppled into the snow, his sore ankle raising everloving hell. Edge was a few feet away, hands tucked into his pockets and a faint smile playing on his mouth. Maybe Rus was getting used to that scar, he actually relaxed to see it was only Edge.

“a magician never reveals his secrets,” Rus said breezily. Then curiously, “you remember that?”

“Of course. That was the last morning I saw you.”

Edge reached into the front of his shirt and pulled out a chain and Rus blinked when Edge showed him that dangling from it was a G coin, as untarnished and shiny as the day he’d given it away.

“you kept it?” Rus asked, disbelieving. He reached up to touch it without thinking, hesitating inches away, his hand curling into a fist.

Edge didn’t seem to notice. His wry grin was softer, teasing. “Well, I had to. It seems that my world doesn’t take G with the Queen’s face on it.” Then he sobered. “I wouldn’t have used it, anyway. You gave it to me.”

“i…” Rus didn’t know what to say to that. He looked up into Edge’s face, searching for any sign of that kid...kids. He looked around wildly, but all the sprogs were gone. “shit! that means he won’t be able to spend that!”

“I’ll take care of it. It was kind of you, to give him that.”

Rus shrugged uncomfortably. “no big deal, it’s only a g.”

The way Edge studied him, deep crimson eye lights resting on Rus’s face, was unsettling in a way Rus couldn’t quite explain. “You still do that, too.”

“do what?” Rus asked distractedly. Another cigarette sounded great right now and he started rummaging for the crumpled pack, fishing one out.

“Deflect when someone compliments you.”

Rus froze, unlit cigarette clenched in his teeth. No fucking way, Edge was hardly more than a baby bones when they closed off their machine, he didn’t need late-day psychoanalysis from someone who slept with a teddy bear. Rus shook his head, trying not to snap as he said, “i do not! it’s not a big deal, that’s all!”

“You do, but that’s all right, Russy.” Edge smiled and there it was, always in that smile. Little Edge, the kid who sat in his lap for stories. “I don’t mind telling you again. Excuse me, I’d better catch them before they try to use that coin in the shop.”

He strode off and Rus watched him go. Putting this version of Edge on top of his memories was almost exactly like trying to compare this Snowdin to his own. Not quite right, tipped a little to the side, and off.

He still wasn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing.

tbc