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Error’s hands pause as he looks over his stitches. Making sure that they aren’t too tight or too loose before sliding his needle through one of the loops of yarn on his other needle to continue making his latest puppet. This one looking almost identical to a classic Sans if it wasn’t for the fluff ringing the hood of the miniature jacket that sits to the side with the rest of the puppet’s clothes as Error makes the body. Falling into the focused mindspace that he often finds himself in when he gets absorbed into his work; whether that be destroying the abominations that crowd the multiverse or making something in his limited free time.
He’s only pulled from his intense focus when the body is finished and he’s debating which buttons to use for the eyes by the distinct feeling of hunger. Right away Error discards the thought of dropping into Nightmare’s place. The goopy octopus always seems to know when he comes by and Error doesn’t want to be dragged into whatever plans he’s been cooking up. And unfortunately for him, a one-way portal tells him that #13 hasn’t replenished his stash since the last time Error raided it.
Portals rapidly open and close in front of Error as he contemplates his options with his first go-tos gone. It would be no problem for him to steal from any of the various stores that sell food in the various AUs—in fact it could be amusing to fuck with one of the BP variants—but a part of him is craving… something. He’s pretty sure what he’s craving isn’t a specific food or flavor, but other than that he’s at a loss as to what it is. It’s annoying, and Error nearly closes the portal for good to continue working on his puppet to spite his hunger when he finds himself staring as a classic Papyrus stands at the stove. The Papyrus is wearing an apron with “COOL COOK” written on it in sharpie as he cooks what looks to be pancake batter mixed with spaghetti. It shouldn’t be appetizing, and normally Error’s sure it wouldn’t be. Yet for some reason that he’s obvious to, he finds himself reaching through to grab the plate of finished pan-ghetti-cakes sitting to the side.
“AH AH,” Error freezes, confusion and rarely felt shame stirring in him at the scolding tone. “IF YOU WANT SOME OF MY AMAZING BREAKFAST YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO SIT AT THE TABLE LIKE A CIVILIZED MONSTER. NOT SCAMPER OFF LIKE A CERTAIN DOG ALWAYS DOES WITH MY BONE ATTACKS.”
Looking through the portal with his arm still suspended, frozen inside, Error looks for whoever the Papyrus could be talking to. After all, he couldn’t be talking to Error, but no matter where he looks he can only see Papyrus in the kitchen.
“COME ON NOW, THERE’S NO NEED TO BE SHY,” this time Papyrus is looking directly at Error’s arm, so there’s no mistaking who he’s talking to. No matter how little sense it makes. “SIT DOWN AND BREAKFAST WILL BE DONE MOMENTARILY.”
It’s against all of Error’s better judgment, but he steps through the portal. Looking at the kitchen from his new perspective he finds himself feeling nostalgic. Logically, he knows that it’s identical to the kitchens of various skeleton brother variants, but he feels the something in him stirring as he looks around. Until he finds his wandering gaze forcefully stopping on Papyrus’ expression. It’s… soft. Much softer than anything that has ever been directed at him before. Which is probably the reason that Error, when gently prompted by Papyrus again, wordlessly goes to sit at the table. His gaze glued onto the tall skeleton as he hums as he cooks. The something in his ribs simultaneously throbs and soothes in tune with each slightly off-key note Papyrus hums. Error nearly reaches up to rub the sensations away when he’s distracted by Papyrus placing down a plate of pan-ghetti-cakes and a bottle of chocolate syrup in front of him.
“lookin’ good, Paps,” Error doesn’t jump, but he does squeeze more chocolate syrup onto his breakfast than intended when Sans suddenly appears next to him. Squirting an obscene amount of ketchup onto his own plate that hadn’t been there moments before.
“IT WOULD LOOK BETTER IF YOU DIDN’T DROWN IT IN THAT CONDIMENT,” Papyrus spits out the word as if it physically hurts him to say it. “I’M SURE OUR BR- GUEST AGREES WITH…” Papyrus trails off as Error pours more chocolate syrup onto his food, staring him straight in the sockets. “EVERYONE’S A CRITIC.” Papyrus huffs but settles down at the table with a bowl of oatmeal.
Error feels strange as he takes a bite of his chocolate covered pan-ghetti-cakes. Almost as if he’s experiencing something that he’s only seen reflected in a mirror. Something that he feels like he should be intimately familiar with, but for some reason feels completely foreign. His ribs ache with phantom pain, his soul has never felt more incomplete yet paradoxically whole, and the food is at best edible, but despite all of that this is—for some illogical reason—the best breakfast he’s ever had.
He listens to banter that warms his soul with something other than determination and anger, and finds himself slowly joining in. Poking fun at Sans and making Papyrus groan as he and Sans join forces to set each other up for the worst puns. He even finds himself not caring that he’d forgotten to take off his glasses because, for some reason, he finds himself trusting these two skeletons. It’s unfamiliar in its familiarity, but it’s warm and it’s safe. Two things that he’d lost hope he’d ever be after waking up in the Anti-Void.
But—as with all good things, but especially so if your name is Error—it eventually comes to an end. Their food vanishing as their plates become empty and the day starts. One moment in time moving on to the next. For some reason, it feels like goodbye.
“BREAKFAST IS AT THE SAME TIME EVERYDAY,” Papyrus blurts out, as if he too can feel the change. “SO IF YOU WANT TO EAT WITH US AGAIN…”
“lunch and dinner are also on the table. feel free to drop in if ya want some grub,” Sans continues when Papyrus trails off, his hand absently rubbing the fluff on his hood.
As for Error, he simply nods before opening a portal back to the Anti-Void. It’s not a yes, but it’s not a no either. He’ll think about joining them for breakfast again later, but for now Error goes back to looking through his buttons until he finds a pair that remind him of how Sans’ eyelights sparkled when Error found himself laughing, against his will, at one of his terrible puns.
Their AU is called Aftertale, isn’t it? It might be worth it to put off destroying that one for a while. Just because it’s a source of food. That’s the only reason.