Sans Goes Feral

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It happened three days before Sans' 16th birthday. Roman had taken these three days off, quite the rarity for the skeleton, to prepare for the big day. He would do it for Papyrus too, when his 11th birthday came around. He called the boys to breakfast, two of the three showing up. "Where's Sans?" Roman asked the boys. Sans was slow in the mornings, but not this slow. He'd usually be sauntering in a minute after the other two. It's been 5 minutes. "... Perhaps you should check on him... father." Wingdings suggested. Roman agreed. He knew Sans wasn't usually a morning person, he'd learned that early on. But he'd drilled into all three that 'The Early Bird Gets The Worm', so Sans tried. Roman went down to the middle sons room, opening the door. "Sans, it's time to wake, your breakfast it gettin- Sans?" Feathers and fabric littered the room, suggesting that Sans had torn apart his pillow and blankets. The boy himself was nowhere to be seen, though his closet door was open. "Sans what the hell is this mess?" Roman wasn't pleased at all, though he found it odd. Sans wasn't usually violent. Not unless he needed to be.. Roman was being attacked before he could think further on that, Sans having darted out of the closet and towards Roman with a roar. This wasn't Roman's first fight though, and pinned the boy fairly easily. He struggled and thrashed beneath him, growling. What Roman saw made his soul plummet.

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After locking Sans back in his room Roman paced the hall, Wingdings and Papyrus watching. "How could this happen, how could he have gotten it?" Roman panicked. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH SANS?" Papyrus asked. Wingdings said nothing, for he already had an idea on what was wrong. "Ferality, Papyrus. You're brother is sick with Ferality." Roman replied. "THEN WE SHOULD MAKE HIM SOME SOUP!" Papyrus went for the kitchen but Wingdings stopped him. "I don't think soup will cure this sickness." Wingdings looked at his father. "Ferelity. A sickness of the soul that drives a skeleton to kill. It hit our Mafia quickly and suddenly in Don Caslon's time. Moving our people from Mexico to America while the remaining infected tore themselves apart. And now, somehow, Sans is infected." Roman narrowed his sockets at the eldest. "I see you've read through your grandfather's journal without my permission."
"It's a family artifact, I shouldn't need your permission." Wingdings pointed out. "You still shouldn't have been in my office without my permission!" Roman growled. "I'm going to be the next Don anyway! I should familiarize myself with the ins and outs of the room!"
"BUT YOUR NOT THE DON YET!" Roman snapped, making Papyrus shrink away while Wingdings stared defiantly at his father. For a long moment, they just glowered at each other but Sans slammed into his door, snapping them both out of it. They didn't have the time for this. Sans needed them. Wingdings shook his head, disappearing into his own room.

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In Wingdings notebook, was pages and pages of notes written in his respective font. He could write in the common as well, but honestly he much preferred to keep his discoveries secret. From what he'd read up on between human and monster books on epidemiology, the journal he'd taken from his father's office, and Sans' own symptoms he believed that Ferality was actually genetic. Sans was born this way and some sort of stimulus had set it off as it had that monster all those years ago. Running a few tests on himself, Wingdings had found that he, and likely all of the skeleton species, produced some sort of venom. This venom was likely what had turned non infected monsters feral. Get bit by an infected skeleton, you get infected too. It was as simple as that. Wingdings didn't know why Caslon didn't figure this out himself. Science should have grown in popularity by then... perhaps it hadn't reached skeletons yet.. Wingdings didn't know. What he did know was that he had to do something about Sans before he became to much of a threat to the Mafia. He'd show that old man that he was ready for the responsibility of Don.

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Papyrus had never seen Wingdings and his father argue before. It was a scary experience for the youngest brother. Now with Wingdings in his room and Roman in his office, Papyrus wandered slowly to Sans room. He knew better than to open the door, but he needed the company, he needed the comfort. "SANS..?" A thud from the other side made the boy jump, but he continued rulectantly, tail low. "FATHER AND WINGDINGS FOUGHT TODAY.. IT WASN'T TO BAD, ONLY A BIT OF YELLING... BUT I ALWAYS THOUGHT THEY GOT ALONG. IT WAS QUITE SCARY. I HOPE YOU GET BETTER SOON, MAYBE YOU CAN TALK SOME SENSE INTO THEM! I... DON'T THINK THEY WILL LISTEN TO ME.." He lowered his head. Sans scratched aggressively at the door, likely leaving gashes in the thick wood. He growled lowly. Papyrus liked to think of it as a sign not to be so down. His head and tail perked right up, a slow wag starting. "YOU'RE RIGHT! I SHOULD AT LEAST LEAST TRY MY BEST! THANK YOU SANS!" The youngest decided to go to his father first about the unfavorable matter.

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So day after day, Papyrus went to talk to his feral brother. It seemed to be just what he needed, even if Sans didn't understand. Wingdings had told him that time and again, but the boy simply wouldn't listen. It infuriated Wingdings, though he decided not to make the matter worse. It was Papyrus after all and he was merely a 10 year old pup, after all. Papyrus had become adept in feeding Sans too. At first the other two had refused to let him feed his feral brother, but with tensions getting worse, they accidentally started ignoring both Papyrus and Sans in favor of going after each other. It'd started with a fight during dinner. They'd forgotten to feed Sans after, due to their anger over each other. So Papyrus had done it as he'd seen his father do it. He cracked the door open, turned Sans soul blue, and started a long session of getting Sans to eat over his attempts to attack him. Eventually Sans had started to relax around him, no longer seeing him as a threat. This was what drew the two into a unbreakable bond.

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