Healing Scars [[Honey Mustard]]

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Red woke to a searing pain on his ribs. He shot up from his bed, curled over in a position to protect his ribs from further harm. . .

He had slept in again, as his brother yelled at him. Fell simply sat there, trying to ignore the hand of his brother hitting him repeatedly. He tried to block out the pain. . .

As usual, it failed to work. Each time Papyrus' skeletal hand hit Red, it hurt worse than the one before. That was Edge's specialty: being able to assure that he inflicts the most pain possible. Edge knew how to manipulate his attack perfectly. He might not kill you, but you'll sure wish you were dead and away from the pain.

Or at least, that was how Red occasionally saw it. . .

"GET UP YOU LAZY ASS!" Edge finally screeched, temporarily done with hitting his unwanted brother.

Red stumbled up from his bed, his eyes low. Edge stormed out the room,but not before yelling more insults and threats, leaving Red standing there.

Red had a straight face. No signs of pain. No signs of sadness. Not even hatred, anger, or anything. His expression showed nothing. . .yet hid everything.

As Red slipped on proper clothes for outside, he felt the familiar feeling in his chest, like an overfilled box on the verge of bursting open. He felt emotions slipping from the walls of that box, and simply pushed them away. He oh so wanted to kick around and punch everything he could, but he didn't. He was not his brother.

With a deep, shaky breath, Red soon walked down the stairs.

Edge had already cleaned up breakfast. Both he and Red knew there had only been one plate on that table anyway. One helping for Edge, even though they certainly had enough food for both brothers and more. Edge seemed even more pissed off that he had done the dish and cleaned instead of his brother.

"Let's go, you worthless pile of dust," Edge growled, walking out the door, fully aware that without a hand to hold the heavy door, it would smack into any unaware person and push them back.

Red was fully aware of this, though, and drifted out of the door before it could hit him. The wood flew past and slammed into the door frame with a loud sound.

Edge stomped away, almost saddened for not watching his brother be run over by a door. The taller skeleton had no reason to worry, unlike Red, about being quiet. His loud, attention demanding voice and his clear foot stomps were proof of that. His entire stance practically screamed 'Royal Gaurdsman'. Red, on the other hand, had grown accustomed to walking with soft footsteps that barely left an impression in the snow and made no noise. His light weight proved helpful in this scenario as well. The smaller brother had grown so used to walking silently like this that it was almost difficult for him not to.

Then, the inevitable happened. Right before them, a gang of monsters broke into a fight with another gang. They began to dust one another in anger, and, in the end, only three monsters from the first gang remained. They all wore grim expressions.

Edge and Red were both fully aware for why. They were not saddened over their fellow comrades being dusted, they wore grim faces because they knew that a three person gang is easy pickings for practically anyone.

The one who now held the strongest attack, because the other leader dusted, called for them to follow him. They all then scurried away, probably to heal and find members to recruit or hiding places.

Soon enough Red and Edge reached the first post, Red's post, and Red sat down.

"Stay here, and do not, I repeat: Do Not, leave this post unless emergency or fall asleep again. If you fall asleep again I will personally leave you out here to die and let the dusters sweep through you," Edge growled in threat, glaring at the skeleton before him, "Do you understand, runt?"

Red almost wanted to shiver, despite his closed jacket warming him. Dusters weren't just some cleaning product to remove the remains of your friends, family, or enemies from your belongings and home. No, Dusters were the worst cases. They were the monsters who go thump in the night. They were the ones who went across the entire Underground at night, checking for any bodies who haven't died yet, or for anyone who was easy pickings.

"Yes, Boss," Red replied emotionlessly, ignoring the feeling in his chest again.

"Good. Now I will leave here, I will return later to see if you have anything to report," Edge warned, then stomped away.

Red simply stared into the distance. He wasn't there, at the post anymore. His mind was doing what he wish his whole self could do: It was leaving the post. His thoughts consumed him as he remained in his head.

Soon he felt the lack of sleep catch up to him. Nightmares riddled his sleep at night, and often didn't stop until before dawn, resulting in a skeleton sleeping in. Red began to nod off, then shook his head and looked up, fighting against the fatigue.

'Are you trying to get killed you idiot?! Stay awake!!' He scolded himself in his mind,

When that didn't work, Red unzipped the jacket he wore, inviting the cold into his body and mind. Soon enough he found himself blinking off again, despite shivers in cold.

He took his sleeve and rolled it up for a second. He chipped of a few speck of bone on his wrist, and let the pain throb and clear his head.

'dammit,' He thought, soon enough even that pain was gone. It was a chip in bone, but he had grown a pain intolorance, somewhat at least, from his brother. Soon, the pain was gone again and blood and marrow were the only signs of his wrist ever chipped.

He tried to think of anything but sleep.

Sleep still took over him quick enough.

Hello! Thanks for making it this far into this bad attempt at a Honey Mustard book! Just want to clear things up: If anything these characters say or do is something you don't think they would do, I'm sorry. This book is my writing, meaning I can only write in how I think they would act, not how you or any other person does. I hope you understand this, and I do not mean to sound rude at all by saying this. Also, I will make a less authors notes as possible, I am aware not many people care for these notes or want to be reading them. Kudos and thanks to the ones who do care.

Word count: 1141