Edge wiped the snow off his boots and knocked crisply on the door, waiting for Blue’s voice to ring out before he entered. Blue poked his head out of the kitchen to greet him, beaming when he saw who it was. “Hi, Edge! What brings you here? Did we have plans? Oh, no! DID I FORGET—“
Some of the tension left his shoulders, and his perma-snarl relaxed into something that was almost a smile. “No, pipsqueak, we didn’t have plans. I’m here to see your brother.”
“Oh.” Blue walked into the living room, wiping his hands off on a towel. “Did you two makes plans, then?”
Edge’s sockets narrowed, and he cocked his head just slightly. Blue sounded almost…hopeful. That was. Odd. And strangely disconcerting. “No. …why?”
Blue smiled, but it was forced. Edge’s brow-bones furrowed. “No reason~!” the smaller said cheerfully, “I’m just happy to see you’re comfortable dropping by like this! It’s nice to know you feel at home—“
“Blue. What happened?”
His forced smile fell apart. “I— Nothing. No, really…nothing happened. It’s just….” Blue looked up at his brother’s door. “Why don’t we talk in the kitchen? I was about to start dinner. I can make enough for—“
“I’m not hungry.” There was no way he could eat. Not right now.
“…Oh.”
Edge really hated the expression on Blue’s face, features frozen with worry and uncertainty. He looked away, uncomfortable with Blue’s concern. “I’m fine. It just…wasn’t a good day.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Bitter laughter bubbled up, and Edge shook his head. Some things should not be shared. Especially not with Tale-verse monsters. “No. No, I do not.” He would much rather just erase it from his memory entirely, but that wasn’t possible. He stepped past Blue and into the kitchen, allowing the warmth to seep into his bones. Oddly, he found the scent of cumin incredibly comforting. “So? What’s wrong with the ashtray?” he asked as soon as the door shut behind Blue. He froze again, and Edge crossed his arms. “That’s why you wanted to talk in the kitchen, correct?”
For a second or two, Blue just stared at him, then the surprise faded and he sighed. “I don’t know,” he finally said, “He’s been…listless. More so than usual. I was hoping that you two had made plans. It would be good for him to go out for a bit. He hasn’t really gone anywhere except to Rus’ and Sans’ for Movie Night. Red’s been over a couple times, but they just stand outside Muffet’s and smoke.” Blue hugged himself. “I’m worried,” he said, looking up at Edge.
Edge was not prepared for the pang that Blue’s words inspired. He had to resist the urge to reach up and rub a thumb over his sternum, as if he could soothe the ache from his soul that way. “I see. Anything else?”
Shaking his head, Blue looked at the ground. His jaw was tense and his posture stiff. “Edge…what happened in Underfell?”
The question shouldn’t have surprised him. Blue wasn’t stupid—a consummate puzzler, he was more than capable of putting the pieces together—nor was he one to stand aside when someone was in pain, particularly if that someone was his brother. Nevertheless, Edge hadn’t been prepared for him to bring it up so bluntly. He’d expected some subtle prodding, the kinds of questions that would allow him to play dumb. This, though? He couldn’t feign ignorance now—not unless he wanted to start blatantly lying to Blue. Sighing, he sat in one of the kitchen chairs, unsurprised when Blue turned the burners off and joined him. “We were separated, briefly. Your brother suffered for it.”
He didn’t say, ‘I’m sorry’. He didn’t say that he was supposed to be looking after him. He didn’t say that it was his fault (or that he had no other choice). Those things, he thought, didn’t need to be said; they were already obvious.
