Chapter 40 - Toby Figures It Out
yeah sorry my schedule has been all over the place I don't know if I'm behind or not so I'm just going to upload today
After this book is done I'm going on hiatus for a bit
A stranger was lying on the couch when Eyeless Jack got downstairs. Ben had been staring down at the man, arms crossed. Eyeless Jack hadn't really been scared when he saw a new stranger. They were sleeping, had no weapons on them, and Laughing Jack was two feet away. It was easy to not be scared when a tall, immortal clown was close. Laughing Jack loomed nearby, little Bean in his arms as he rocked her back and forth.
It was Ben who asked him. "Jack?"
Laughing Jack glanced over. A claw dangled above Bean for her to grasp. "Yeah?"
"Mind... explaining?" Ben asked. "Why the Bloody Painter is on our living room couch?"
Eyeless Jack took a closer look at the man. A CreepyPasta, then. With slick black hair and a pale face. There was a clear ruffle of his clothes, and his hair was lightly mattered with blood. Head trauma. He definitely had a concussion. Should he do something about it?
"I kidnapped him!" Laughing Jack said gleefully as if it were quite obvious. And, on a second look, it certainly was.
Ben blinked. "Why?"
Bean giggled when Laughing Jack gave her a skittle. Her hands flailed for another, but he only waved the milk bottle, making her tsk and growl. The message was clear, she had to finish her milk before she got any more. She complied but glared heavily at her Father as she ate.
"Because Sans was worried about him and Helen said no to coming here to help with his depression. So now Sans doesn't have to worry!" Laughing Jack said, grin wide.
Oh. So this was the guy who... Jack glanced back down. A normal-looking fellow. Though he was pale and a bit too skinny for his own good. Probably skipped a decent few meals. This man was not the center of good health.
"Did you knock him out to get him here?" Eyeless Jack asked.
"Yeah. Hit his head." Laughing Jack seemed disinterested, instead returning to making faces at Bean.
"Shit."
Eyeless Jack never really did think he would become the resident doctor in their house, yet there he was, quickly crouching next to the unconscious man to feel for a pulse. Still a pulse. That was good. His breathing was slightly labored.
"What's going on?" Ben asked, wearily glancing down at the man.
"How long has he been out?" Eyeless Jack asked.
"Eh..." Laughing Jack shrugged. "Over an hour now?"
He didn't know this man. Not in the slightest. But if he was going to stay here, he should help. So Eyeless Jack slung an arm and quickly pushed the man into a sitting position against his chest.
"This man is going to need medical attention right now," Jack said. "That's a sign of a brain injury."
"Oh." Ben looked towards Laughing Jack. "Jack, what the fuck?"
The living room was empty from everyone but them, as the night had long since consumed everyone else into a peaceful slumber. Eyeless Jack managed to tug the man against him, using his shoulder to support the unconscious one's weight. He was a bit scrawny, so it wasn't too difficult. Eyeless Jack built muscle when he was on the run, it was just part of the experience. He slung an arm over his shoulder to keep the man upright.
"We need to get him to a hospital where they have scanners," Jack said. "Now. Seriously, this could be internal bleeding or a major brain injury."
This wasn't something they could check in their home. Sans was good for getting Eyeless Jack some basic store-bought remedies for certain injuries. He did not, though, have thousands of dollars worth of machines to scan brains just laying around. They'd have to drive out somewhere to access them. And that would certainly be a drive.
"Drive out where?" Ben asked. He gestured to his face, with black and red eyes. "None of us exactly can blend in and use any shit. We can't just take him to the emergency room."
Injuries were... difficult, as a CreepyPasta. You had what you had on you and you dealt with that. Hospitals and Emergency rooms, where they needed identification, were not an option. Eyeless Jack was fortunate enough to have an intense background with doctors and medical school. Any injury that didn't require any big machines or intense medicine was easy to manage.
This, though, was an internal injury. One that could lead to serious problems if not properly managed. And from what he knew about Laughing Jack, he doubted the injury was... something this guy could sleep off.
"I say we just throw him in a ditch," Ben said, gesturing towards the man in Eyeless Jack's arms. "Going to a hospital is going to be hell, especially since we'll need what - hours alone with a machine to fix this guy? It's going to be hard to get a machine for that amount of time."
Eyeless Jack adjusted his grip on the man. The stranger. He wasn't worth the work, really. Compassion was rare ever since Eyeless Jack had his survival abilities thrown to the test. So no, he was not going to dare risk such a feat. Sneaking into a hospital was difficult enough. Eyeless Jack didn't want this man to carelessly die, since it was clear Sans had formed some concern over him, but he wasn't exactly someone Eyeless Jack would risk himself to save.
"Then what?" Eyeless Jack asked. "Is there anywhere we could get the machinery?"
Laughing Jack didn't seem particularly concerned with the conversation, or the survival of the man. None of them did care much. They had no attachments to him. He was only really there for Sans' concern, and even then Sans wasn't best friends with him. At best his death would be only disappointing.
"Want me to start digging the grave?" Laughing Jack said.
He didn't sound particularly fond of him either. His interest was more directed to Bean, cooing at his little child. She was practically climbing up his face, seemingly intent on climbing up to sit on his head. He outheld his hands to catch her if she happened to fall.
"There are a few doctor CreepyPasta that might be able to..." Ben mumbled, thinking. "But there's only one I know for sure has his own medical office. With stuff like that. He'd be harmless to us. Just a bit weird. If you guys want to take him we can."
"Uh... yeah, sure," Eyeless Jack said.
___________________
Toby didn't very much understand monsters. They had been on the surface for only a few years, and Toby had become a Creepypasta shortly after. He could recall his Father's drunk racist yelling when the news had swept across every station on the T.V. Just as he could recall the alcohol slamming against the wall. That was one of the last few events before he ended up killing that abusive ass of a Dad.
But Toby had realized just how little he knew about monsters when Sans had knocked on his door, asking if he could heal his arm.
He knew monsters could heal. But he thought that was a special trait only a few had, and one that only worked on other monsters. Yet Sans had sat down, sleep tugging at his face, as he outheld a hand over Toby's arm. The magic was an odd feeling, brushing across his skin in whispers of bright dazzling color.
"Sorry, I should've healed this way sooner," Sans said.
"It's fine..." Toby had said.
Monsters were just odd. That thought crossed Toby's mind as he watched Sans heal the injury. The skeleton who was leaning forward, face set with determination as he focused on the wound.
Sans was odd. Toby found himself thinking that a lot recently. It wasn't like they were strangers anymore. Nor were they best friends. They were in a weird middle ground where the exact relationship itself was a mystery. Hell if Toby understood his emotions towards Sans. Sans was just... a lot to try and understand. Someone who was hiding things despite seeming so open, who always carried a tint of pure unrivaled experience in his eye lights like he's lived this all before, and he could do it again in a heartbeat. An unbalanced mixture of confidence and doubt, someone who both judged others and didn't give a damn.
In short, Toby didn't know if he was fascinated by that skeleton or not. If that hint of mystery turned him away or made him want to get closer to him. Hell if Toby knew. He was terrible with emotions, particularly his own, and Sans was just too confusing to fully comprehend.
Life was always... confusing. He never got the chance to be free - truly free - until he had gone off on his own months ago. But that time was focused on survival. Then suddenly Clockwork showed up that night, looking clean and healthy as if she wasn't on the run just as he was. Promising a home for safety, security, and a group of people just like him. Didn't believe it at first, of course. And when he had first joined, everyone was at his throat. Didn't trust him. Didn't like him. He even had to pretend to date a man he barely knew.
But then that all settled down. And it left time to think. To grow closer to some of these people. Was he close to them? No, he wouldn't say. But he was getting there. He was one of the group now, in a weird way. And that included Sans, the almost head of the group. Who owned this house, was the cover they all ducked behind for a hint of normality stolen away.
Sans narrowed his eye sockets slightly as he focused, and Toby watched as he did so. Sans. Comic Sans Font, the skeleton who he felt... someway about. The weird, funny guy who made jokes from time to time and just wanted to have people he could depend on. Who wore the same three outfits on repeat not because he was broke, but because he didn't like an abundance of materialistic items. A simple man who was anything but simple.
"I didn't know you could... could do this," Toby pointed out.
Sans shrugged. It was a sluggish shrug. "Every monster can. Honestly, though, it only works on cuts and stuff like that. We can't cure cancer or infections or allergic reactions. We just can give magic to help the body rebuild and heal cuts or shit like that. Only useful to an extent."
"Do you have to train it at all?"
His left hand jolted.
"Yeah. I can do basic healing but more complicated things are out of my league. You have to train in healing magic for a while. I only trained enough so I can heal decently large injuries."
"Huh."
He wanted to know more about him. Wanted to ask questions but also didn't want to. Wonder why Sans, who had so many opportunities for safety, threw it away to become a house sitter for serial killers. Wondered what life events caused him to go down this path. And just pondered what made Sans... Sans.
Toby knew Sans' view on killers. Knew his backstory with his brother, how he and Smile Dog met. But he knew that wasn't the full story. Everyone knew that. That Sans was hiding something that'd occasionally make him go quiet and think, that'd make his face go pale at whatever thoughts ran through his mind. Toby knew that Sans told a select few of them more of his past, but even they seemed to understand there was something more he was hiding. The last bit of information. Jane always gave Sans a quiet, contemplative look whenever Sans looked like that. Laughing Jack would quickly swoop in and distract him with silly lines and soft cuddles. Sans didn't seem like he knew, but everyone else did.
His wound was gone.
Toby blinked at the sight. No wound. A scar was there, evidence that it wasn't fully healed, but that Sans had done more than enough to speed up the recovery.
"Part of my Judge training. Had to learn how to heal," Sans said.
Right. Judges. Another part of the monster culture that eluded Toby. There was so much about monsters he just didn't understand. Their god was some guy who was a dog who would randomly show up and steal things? Then, of course, the whole need for love to survive.
The Judges were by far the most confusing part. People hired to work for the ruler from the sidelines. Never directly in his affairs, but would give an uninvolved opinion when needed. Had some weird ability to look at someone and know things about them.
"How... how does that work, anyways?"
Sans chuckled. "Not as impressively as you think. Asgore helped me train my magic and that was that. Never used my title for much of anything."
"Oh."
Sans tapped his arm once, confirming that it was indeed healed before nodding to himself. Toby watched quietly, his fingers tough and cold against Toby's skin. Not painful. Toby never did feel pain.
"Thank... tha-"
"Since yer -"
Both had moved at the same time. Both had turned their heads to talk to the other. And neither had noticed how close they were until they were facing one another. Only when their noses were touching, and when they were awfully close did both realize.
And, of course, that's when things made sense to Toby. When everything clicked into place. At the worst possible time. When he finally understood why he had some odd fascination about Sans, why he wanted to know more. It wasn't a slow realization. It was just them turning, at that moment, and it hit him. Cause and effect.
His face turned bright red. Sans coughed awkwardly and retreated a few inches to give Toby some space.
Emotions were always confusing to Toby. The only emotionally mature people in his life died when he was young, and becoming a Creepypasta didn't help with that path. Only recently did Toby set out on his own, did he finally gain control over his life, and started to take the lead. And with that came only more confusion, wondering about, trying to figure out things. All that had mattered before was Clockwork, and that was easy, knowing he cared for her. Then came in this damn house, and all of that went out of the window. Because he had been confused again when he started thinking about Sans more. Because he never fucking thought about someone before like that, and it was weird and downright disorientating. Only when it was thrown into his face in an obvious pitch did it finally hit his mind, that Toby had developed a slight crush on Sans.
Clockwork was right. He could remember their little argument from the candy store popping up again. At that time he had thought it was stupid. But she knew him.
She figured out Toby had a crush on Sans before Toby did.
"I -" Toby stood up, quickly. He wanted to make a quick, decent excuse. Instead, he squeaked like a mouse and dashed.
Toby didn't have anywhere in mind when he ran out of the house. Hell if he knew where he was going. His first instinct was to flee, and so he did. Past the houses brimming with suburban families, past the crooked stop sign, and the corner with a dropped, empty wallet on the sidewalk. Past everything, just so he could think. Think. God did he need to think.
When he reached that brick wall of the closed store, he let himself sit down against it.
Thoughts were running rampant in his mind. He knew he was gay - he knew, obviously, but he never... figured out much past that. Was Sans his type? Did he have a type? Or did he just jump onto the first man to show him kindness?
Toby felt a tic run through his body before he ran a hand through his sloppy mess of brown hair. This was weird. Toby didn't like this. Or he did. Did he? Sans was nice, sure. Cute maybe? He didn't know. He had those big eye sockets and a round skull with a short, petite body type. He wore baggy, thick clothes to try and hide that but it didn't do much. And his jokes were funny. But Toby didn't know Sans. He knew him enough, but enough wasn't... enough, was it?
He sucked in a breath. A long, thin breath. Okay. So maybe he did like Sans. Sans was maybe his type since Toby apparently had a type for short skeletons who housed him and fed him and healed him. Then what? Toby was still getting his grip on the whole crush thing. Maybe he could cram it down and pretend it didn't exist? Yeah, that could work.
Toby couldn't put this exactly into words. Couldn't comprehend this himself. It just hit him moments ago, and he was dealing with the rush of feelings that flooded in with such a realization.
Toby never actually had a crush until now. He thought he had one on Clockwork, but he was misinterpreting his own emotions. And he hadn't thought he was close enough with anyone yet in the house to deem any of them a crush. Yet there he was, sitting in the dirt feeling like a confused teenager all over again.
He didn't know what he wanted. Was he even ready for a relationship? Was that what suited him? Was he actually into Sans for being Sans, or was he putting him onto a pedestal for being the normal man who housed him? For all Toby knew he just liked the idea of Sans, since he didn't fully know Sans. Sans had complex relationships with everyone out of the house, reasons as to why he invited them all to stay. Not Toby. Toby was the friend of a friend. And Sans was a friend of a friend to Toby.
And he never dealt with emotions like these before. These confusing, gut-twisting emotions that demanded attention but also were repulsed. His sexuality was always the biggest struggle of his life. Took him until he was in bed with a woman to realize he just wasn't getting excited. Was he even attracted to Sans physically? Toby had never managed to figure out what his type was. He was oblivious when it came to that stuff.
Toby let himself curl against the bricks as a tick ran through his body. He didn't know. He just didn't know.
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