Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks, abuse
I wanted to write Razz - who has been abused, both mentally and physically, by his queen - meeting Goat Mum
Running his fingers over the book spines lined up along the walls, Razz smiled. His eyes sparkled as he looked out over the bookshop Papyrus had brought him to. There were so many books. And they were available to anyone, for almost no money at all, lined up in dark brown bookshelves, filling every wall of the small shop. Never in his life had he been able to even dream of such a thing before everything went to hell and he and Slim had been forced to search refuge in Undertale. Which had been humiliating at the time, that he, the Maleficent Sans, Lieutenant of the Royal Guard, had to plead to their counterparts to let them stay because Slim had been an idiot who openly spoke ill of the queen, and thus got the death penalty immediately.
But now… In all honesty, he was grateful. Even if he’d lost some of his prestige coming here, it had been a good decision. His gaze caught on one of the books, a bright red one. Curious, he pulled it out. It felt different than the others in his hand – leather, he realized. It was leather bound, and the cover was decorated in gold. The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy. They’d watched the movie only two weeks ago. He considered it, regarding the price tag. Nineteen dollars. Back in Swapfell, he would’ve choked if he’d seen a book sold so cheaply. Especially a new one. As the lieutenant, he’d had access to the Royal Library, but those books weren’t his. He was only allowed to them on the mercy of the Queen – a privilege he’d lost many times because of his failure.
He swallowed as a shiver travelled up his spine, and shook his head. No. Not his failure. Her cruelty. The Undertale brothers had allowed them to stay on the condition that they went to therapy, and he was realizing now that what Her Majesty had done wasn’t justified, wasn’t right. It was abuse. But he didn’t want to think of that now. Just a moment of happiness, here surrounded by books, couldn’t be too much to ask. Doing his best to shove those thoughts back into the darkness of the back of his mind, he clung tighter onto the book. He’d buy it. Couldn’t pass up on such an opportunity after all, even if it was commonplace here. To him, it was precious.
“Have you found something?”
The bright voice made him twitch, but he nodded as Papyrus approached. The taller skeleton was holding a whole bunch of books in his arms. Some Young Adult, probably for Frisk, a book about mechanics, undoubtedly for Papyrus himself, and three different Sherlock Holmes-books. Discomfort crept upon Razz at the thought of wasting so much money on something not necessary, but he shook it off. Not his money, not his universe. The Tales didn’t need to save every penny to survive. He held up the book he’d chosen, and Papyrus nodded approvingly.
“Fantastic! A true classic, according to Red.” Red, who, to Razz’s shock and great amusement, studied literature after the monsters of Underfell reached the Surface. Oh, how he’d laughed when he’d found that out, and then been forced to dodge the bullets his counterpart had thrown on him. Good times.
“I can’t believe how cheap books are here,” he commented, stroking his finger over the gold engravings of the cover. “Something like this would’ve cost an arm and a leg back home.” Either that, or a full body, if you didn’t have gold. Many vendors would take that instead. But he didn’t mention that. It wasn’t like he ever would’ve agreed to that, so it wasn’t relevant.
The look on Papyrus’ face was both concerned and happy as he shrugged. “They’re cheaper on the Surface than they were Underground. Though I’m certain books in Swapfell were even more expensive than those we had.”
Razz nodded. Everything had been. Swapfell was an oligarchy, and resources were hoarded by those who could afford to live any other way than hand-to-mouth. He glanced meaningfully at the pile in Papyrus’ arms. “Undoubtedly.”
The bells hanging over the front door to the shop tinkled, signalling someone had entered. A teenager’s laughter was heard, followed by a too-familiar voice. “Calm down, my child.”
The feminine voice sent sparks through Razz, and he stiffened, cold sweat dripping down his neck. Papyrus had turned away from him the moment they heard the laugh and didn’t see. “Frisk!” he greeted cheerfully. “Ms Toriel!”
“Papyrus, so nice to see you,” the warm voice said, and a face he’d never forget stepped toward them, a thirteen-year-old following behind, smiling brightly. But Razz didn’t pay that any mind. The white goat monster towered above him, dressed in a royal purple dress, the Delta Rune decorating her chest as a diamond brooch. Queen Toriel, looking down at him, fury shining in her eyes as he just stood there, staring at her. He couldn’t move, his limbs had frozen. Her throne towered behind her, its back reaching almost all the way to the ceiling, and dead flowers crunched beneath her feet as she took a step forward, raising a clawed hand.
Pain flashed through his body as his knee hit the wooden floor, but he hardly registered it. “My Queen,” he whispered, but his voice shook, and he cursed himself. Weak, a voice in his head whispered. It sounded exactly like hers.
Paws against the floor. He dared glancing up, mouth dry as a desert, and he saw her come closer. Instinctually, he braced himself for pain. A soft, fuzzy hand was placed on his shoulder. Razz couldn’t stop the tremors shaking his body, the hitching of his breath. Claws digging into his shoulders. A fiery agony, and he’s curled up on the floor, sobbing as he tries to protect his broken ribs from further damage. “Disappointing,” a voice says. A voice he’d always admired. A voice he owed everything. “I expected more from you, Lieutenant.”
Oh Angel, she was going to kill him, wouldn’t she? He’d betrayed her. Committed treason when he fled with his brother. Razz squeezed his eyes shut, but it couldn’t close out the images of her throne room, decorated with dusty children’s toys. Like a twisted nursery.
Forcing himself to take a deep breath, to stop trembling, he clenched his fists against the floor. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he forced out, managing to keep his voice steady. The words felt gross in his mouth.
“Oh- Oh,” she said, and throwing him off. Why did she sound uncertain? “For what, my friend? And you needn’t call me Your Majesty, I am no longer the queen. Toriel is just fine.”
What? He dared to steal a glance upwards. Three sets of eyes were staring at him. He met a pair of red eyes, and he bit down on his tongue as he quickly turned them down again. He tasted blood and phantom pains wracked his body already. He met her gaze without permission. But she gave him a command. “Toriel,” he whispered. The name tasted like ash without the Queen in front of it. “My apologies, To-” He broke off, taking a shaky breath. The word was stuck in his throat.
“Razz?” A gentle voice said, and the hand finally left his shoulder. The heat and weight had begun to grow intolerable. Someone knelt in front of him. “Razz, deep breaths. Look at me.” His brother’s voice, but without the roughness the smoking had given it.
He looked up, meeting soft orange eyelights, and intent gently pressed against his soul, asking to be let in. Safety/Protectiveness/Control. Razz began to shake. He dug his fingertips into his palms, hissing at the pain as they drew blood. “Papyrus?”
“Yes, I’m here,” Papyrus replied, rubbing soothing circles over his neck with his thumb. “And so are you. Queen Toriel isn’t here. You’re safe. Your brother is safe. No one is going to hurt either of you. We’re safe.”
“I- I’m sorry, Your- Your Majesty, I- I can’t-” Couldn’t use that name, couldn’t disrespect her like that. Couldn’t endanger both himself and his brother. His teeth chattered, suddenly he felt cold, and he didn’t know why.
“Shhh.” Papyrus hushed him. “Can I hold you? Is that okay?”
After a moment of hesitation, Razz nodded. Warm arms embraced him, holding him gently so he didn’t feel trapped. He gasped, clutching onto Papyrus’ shirt, hiding his face in it. The scent of soap and faint remains of oil had his soul settling somewhat.
“I-” that familiar voice mumbled, making him tense again. “I think we should go. Come, my child. It was nice seeing you again, Papyrus.”
Papyrus only hummed a reply, and Razz could finally breathe again as she disappeared, as he couldn’t feel her familiar presence anymore. He remained in Papyrus’ arms for another while before shaking them off, standing up and exhaling slowly. Rolling his shoulders, he glanced nervously around. They were alone in this part of the shop, luckily. No one had seen his breakdown. Thank the Angel.
“Are you alright?” The question was gentle, unjudgmental.
Razz shook his head, clenching his fists to keep them from trembling. Slipped into the façade of the soldier he’d had many years to make perfect. “Can we go home?” His voice was quiet, soft. He needed to check with his brother, remind himself that they were safe. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks. Oh fuck. That had been Undertale Toriel. He’d broken down in front of a stranger, a stranger who didn’t even have an ounce of power after she abdicated. A teacher.
“Of course. Do you want to buy the book first?”
He only nodded, bowing down to pick it up from the floor after wiping off his blooded palms against his black trousers. He hadn’t even noticed he dropped it. Much to his relief, it had landed on its side, and was completely unharmed. Pressing it to his chest, Razz glanced toward the counter, made of dark wood, which was empty. A little silver bell stood on it, for calling on the clerk. “I’ll be right back.”
Papyrus nodded, his smile encouraging.
Razz still felt cold as ice when he made his way toward the counter, clutching The Scarlet Pimpernel like a lifeline. But he kept his claws folded toward his palms rather than into the leather. He couldn’t damage something so precious, after all.
