Humans are exceptionally cruel, as it turns out. More so than the most scary of monsters, more frightening than the most terrifying of nightmares. Humans, in all their fleshy, selfish glory, just take what they want, and dump what they don't need.

So it's no surprise when you discover how the newest trend of "pets" were now being seen roaming the streets, abandoned by their adopters and left to fend for themselves. Despite the gentle mother reminding others to care for the BittyBones and to return them if they could no longer be cared for, some still ended up on the streets. Dumped like a box of unwanted kittens, they cried and pleaded for help, please, someone.

But no one bothered.

Eventually, the gentle mother would find them again and love and nurse them back to health, if she could find them.

However, not all BittyBones come from the same mother. There are other mothers too, who give their little ones out for adoptions.

Those are the ones you find out on the street the most. They hide in cardboard boxes, scavenging for scraps of whatever they can find, until one day, they're nothing but dust. You wish someone would help them, but really, you're no better.

You watch as they scamper from place to place, sometimes surviving, sometimes dying. But you don't do a thing. You don't think you can handle the responsibility of caring for a BittyBones, so you leave them alone, pretending not to notice the glowing eyes that follow your footsteps every time you walk back home.

You hear them crying sometimes, screaming sometimes, pleading sometimes. Those times are the worst, because you're trying to fall asleep but it's difficult to sleep past the gnawing guilt that builds up in your chest. Besides, they don't always stick around your neighborhood. After a few days or so, the voices fade away, and then you can sleep in complete bliss.

So you sleep, ignoring the cries for warmth and food. You don't need to care for them. They're someone else's problem.

/ - /

It's a rainy night. The streetlights are dim as you walk home, your boots splashing the puddles that come across your way. It's quiet, save for the pattering of the rain. It's times like these where your paranoia is at its peak - there's no telling when someone could jump out and try to mug you (but you know that's just your imagination). So you keep a wary eye out, noticing how the lights reflect off the puddles and how the moon eerily shines through the clouds.

It's cold, and you tug your coat closer around you. You enter your neighborhood, and your guard eases just enough that your shoulders relax. The rain is slowing into a drizzle as your pace slows down. It's peaceful. You begin to hum softly to yourself as you pass house after house, the lights shining through the windows as families and couples enjoy a nice dinner in the quiet of the evening.

The sounds of your footsteps and the drizzling rain almost distract you from a desperate cry coming from your left. You turn your head and watch as a tiny skeleton pounds on the door of a house.

"Mama!" He's screaming at the top of his lungs, his tiny fists pounding on the door desperately. "Mama, please, I'm sorry! Let me back in! PLEASE!" He doesn't notice you standing in front of his house, watching the spectacle with mild interest. He continues to sob and bang on the door, and you're determined to get back to your house before the pity sets in when the door opens up. A woman stands in the doorway, illuminated by the lights of her house as she snarls down at the skeleton that stands before her. He raises his arms up, as if hoping to be picked up. "Mama!"

Humans are exceptionally cruel, as you know very well.

You watch as she picks him up with a sneer, before chucking him away from her door. He lands with a heavy thud, and you're almost worried that he's going to die right in front of you. The woman laughs at his shaking form when her eyes flick up to meet yours. Contempt is bright in her eyes, and before you can even say a word, she slams the door shut.

"M-Mama… wait… I…" He pushes himself back up, slowly, painfully, and you're stuck there, rooted to the spot. "P-please… I… I love you…" He's standing up weakly and is heading his way back to the door, probably to continue his pleas for his mother to take him back in.

Your feet shift in his direction, creating a loud splash that gets his attention. He turns abruptly around, his face changing from despair, to shock, to anger. The skeleton bares his teeth at you and snarls fiercely, hunching his shoulders up and growling.

"The hell you lookin' at?!" You take a step back, staring at this tiny skeleton as he bristles with animosity. It's then that you register the jacket that he's wearing, adorned with little spikes and… are those studs on the collar? "Fuck off!" He snaps at you, and you turn away from him quickly, running away from the BittyBones as you make your way back home.

As you close the door behind you, you realize suddenly that even when he was snarling at you, he was still shaking.

/ - /

Getting the groceries is always a bore, but it's necessary for keeping you fed and alive. You're struggling with the bags when you pass by the house again. You pause in front of it, putting the bags down for a second when you hear a soft sniffling noise. When you look up, you see the skeleton sitting on the front step, hunched over and hugging his knees. The sunlight helps you notice an odd patch on his skull, reminding you briefly of a head wound as you continue to stare at it. His shoulders are shaking, and you can't help but notice that his clothes are completely soaked. The jacket gleams with the moisture that's collected on it, and his pants are clinging to his bones. You're at a complete loss as to what to do.

Standing there awkwardly, you rustle your bags loudly as you pick them up slowly. He doesn't move. You swing them on your arms for a bit, creating more noise. This time, he peeks up to see you staring at him and he lifts his head up, glaring in response.

Neither of you say a word, and quite frankly, it's very awkward.

So say something, stupid.

You clear your throat.

"Oh, ah…" Intelligent. "You know… She's not gonna let you back in, right?" He growls angrily and slams a fist on the ground.

"You don't know that!" But you do. "She'll let me back in! I know she will!" He's delusional, you conclude. You hold your hands up in a placating manner and the plastic bags dig into your arm.

"Okay, okay. No need to yell." He narrows his eye sockets and looks away, resting his skull on his arms.

"She won't leave me out here. Not forever, anyway. So beat it!" He doesn't even look up at you as he snaps, so you turn on your heel and beat it.

Whatever. He's not your problem anyway.

/ - /

It's cloudy when you head out the next day. You don't bother to pause by the house as you walk past it, ignoring the stares you feel on your back as you make your way to the bus stop. It's a boring day spent at work, and you can't help but think about the skeleton on the doorstep. You watch the weather through your window, typing away mindlessly as you think about him.

During your break, you pull up a page about BittyBones and browse through the images. None of them look like the skeleton you have hanging around the neighborhood, so you end your search and continue working.

When you get home, it's nighttime, and the sky is clear. You're tired and want to get home, so of course you stop by the house again and give it a quick glance over.

The skeleton is lying down on the doorstep, looking more battered than before. He's sleeping however, and you're not sure if you should disturb him. However, against your better judgement, you approach him quietly and pull out a spare napkin, carefully draping it on top of him. He shivers slightly and pulls it tighter around him, sleeping somewhat soundly as you continue to watch him.

Well.

It's not a newspaper, but at least it's something.

Could be worse, in your opinion.

Nodding to yourself, you step away from the skeleton and continue back home. As you walk away, an eye socket cracks open and watches your back as you quickly get off the property.

/ - /

It's been four days, and you find yourself standing in the rain in front of the house. The little skeleton is staring at you, napkin soaking wet and discarded to the side. Neither of you say a word, and so you slowly approach him. He says nothing and watches you with wary eyes.

You kneel down in front of him and hold out your hand. Neither of you break each other's gaze as the rain falls around you.

"Do you… wanna come with me?" Your voice is soft and tentative, and you're completely unprepared for the possible responsibility that comes with your words. But he's been soaked and battered for four whole days, and on closer inspection, that weird patch on his head is actually a dirty bandage, and you're not sure how long the little guy can take before turning into dust.

The least you can do is make his last moments less painful.

His eyes flicker side to side, before looking back into yours, unsure of what to do.

"She… my mama might let me back in soon." You bite your lip, because you know that he's lying to himself. She's probably kicked him at least once during the four days he's been stuck out here, and there's no way she's even considering letting him back in.

But you know he won't come with you willingly even if you told him that.

"Why not stay in a warm place until she lets you back in?" Uncertainty crosses his face, and he looks at your hand, fists clenching and unclenching as he thinks about it.

"How will she know where I am?"

"I'll leave a note." Like hell you are.

"...really?" He stares at you with tired eyes, and they search yours before he sighs and closes his eyes. "No. No, you won't." He's about to turn away when you speak up again.

"I will! I'll, I'll do it right now." You pull out a pen and an old receipt, quickly scribbling down a note telling the lady that you've got her BittyBones with you, and that she can pick him up at your address. The note is carefully tucked under the doormat, ensuring that it won't get blown away by the wind. He reads over the note slowly before looking back up at you.

You offer your hand to him again, and he searches your eyes once more.

You think he's trying to figure out what kind of monster you are, and honestly, you can't blame him. Humans can be the worst kinds of monsters sometimes.

He hesitates once, twice, before carefully placing his hand in yours. You scoop him up gently and cradle him in your arms. He's light.

"Come on. Let's get you dried up."

\ = \

Humans are exceptionally cruel, he learns quickly enough. Once you trust one of them, they turn around and break your heart, leaving you out to turn to dust because you've become a pain and a pest. The four whole days spent sitting outside his house were the worst kind of torture. He just wanted to be loved. He trusted her with all his heart.

But now? Now he doesn't know if he'll ever be okay after all of that.

The new human is bumbling about their home, picking up this thing and that, looking for something for him to wear. They were kind enough to give him a bath, cleaning the wound on his head (he had to explain that no, he didn't get that from his mama, but rather he was sort of… born with it? It's difficult to explain, he tells them) and replacing the gross bandage with a newer, uglier one. When he comments on the ugly design, they apologize and say that they don't really get bandages that often, so they just collect them from whatever their colleagues hand to them every once in awhile, noting that they swore they had one that was covered in hot dogs.

"Ah ha!" The human reappears with some small clothes, evidently belonging to a doll previously. "I used to babysit for some kids back when I had no job, and they always forgot their toys here. I've been meaning to return the dolls back to them but…" They scratch their cheek awkwardly before laughing weakly. "...it's been a whole year since I last spoke to them. I think they moved." They add the last part quietly before thrusting the clothes at him. He examines them with disinterest and notes that the clothes are made of cheap fabric that will not keep him warm. He stares up at them, doubting their ability to care for him. They sweat noticeably, and he figures that they doubt their own ability as well. He sighs and puts the doll clothing on, grunting at how the fabric rubs against his bones. It's pretty uncomfortable to wear.

It's quiet.

They both stand there awkwardly, not know what to do when the human clears their throat.

"So, do you wanna eat?"

"I haven't eaten in four days."

"Ha! H-ha, right. Yeah…" They trail off awkwardly before picking up the sentence with forced enthusiasm. "So! What do you wanna eat?"

"Raw meat."

"What?"

"Raw. Meat."

"I uh… h-huh?" They stare at him stupidly for a bit before he rolls his pupils around and sighs.

"I need raw meat. Feed me the red shit. You know, beef? I'll take that. Unless you want me to eat your flesh." He grins menacingly, showing off his sharp chompers. They gulp softly and nod quickly.

"Right! Raw meat! Because… that's normal for BittyBones to eat! Right…" As they wander off into the kitchen to get him some grub, he sits down on the table they left him on, examining his surroundings. The place is pretty plain, with only a TV, some shelves, and a couch decorating what he assumes is the living room. It's simple in design, but the layout is surprisingly similar to the cardboard house he was given when he lived with his mama. Everything was just bigger. And the TV probably worked too.

The human comes back into the room and gathers his wet clothes, leaving them on the heater to dry as he sits on their table, with nothing to do. The sound of a microwave hums in the background as they flit about the house, gathering this and that for his temporary stay. Once they finish sprucing up the couch, they pick him up and plop in a nest of pillows and a blanket. It's super comfy and something he's not used to. They turn the TV on and leave the remote next to him, before turning back to the kitchen. He wraps himself up in the blanket, enjoying the warmth and settling in comfortably into the nest, idly watching whatever was playing on the screen.

Clatters come from the kitchen, and he almost jumps when he hears a crash resounding from the other room, followed by some cursing. He watches the kitchen with apprehension until the human reappears, looking flustered while carrying a plate with slices of raw beef on it.

"Uh… So, it might still be a little frozen? I didn't want to leave it in the microwave for too long, since it might accidentally cook, and uh, I was thinking about letting it thaw out on the counter, but you looked hungry? So I wasn't sure what to do?" They set the plate down in front of him and sit down on the couch, rubbing their hands nervously and looking around their small house for something to do. He picks up a slice of meat, letting it flop about in his hands. It's warm, and the juices are slowly dribbling down onto the plate. The edges are a bit brown, but most of it is still raw so he figures that it'll do. He chomps down on the meat and begins to eat, stealing glances at the human as they twiddle their thumbs.

God they look nervous. After finishing his third slice of meat, he grunts loudly to get the human's attention, making them jump a foot into the air (he almost laughs at their reaction).

"Jesus Christ, stop actin' so nervous." They laugh nervously, completely missing the point of his statement and rub the back of their neck.

"I dunno I just… I don't know how to take care of a BittyBone so… This is all new stuff to me." They offer him a weak smile before looking away. "So um, maybe help me out? I don't really know how to take care of you. And. Stuff." He grunts and picks up the last slice of meat, chewing on it before responding to them.

"It's real easy. Just feed me and keep me warm. And clean my head injury. That's pretty much it. You don't gotta do much until my mama comes back to pick me up."

"Ah, right." There's doubt in their voice, but he chooses not to address it. For now, he's got his mind set on finishing this last piece of beef.

The TV plays softly in the room as the two sit there, letting the noise fill up the quiet space surrounding them.

\ = \

"What's your name?" The question comes suddenly one day, while he's staring out the window, hoping to see his mama walk up the driveway. He doesn't turn to face them and instead grunts out his response.

"Sans. But everyone calls me Brassberry. So I expect you will too." The low hum of the heater prevails in the room. The human's feet shuffles awkwardly on the carpet before they speak up again.

"Uh, okay. ...Do you wanna know my name?"

"I think I'll just stick to calling you 'human'. I'm not stayin' here long anyways."

"...right." They stand there a bit longer, before wandering away to what he presumes is their bedroom. They don't bother him again until dinner time.

\ = \

It's been a whole week since she kicked him out of the house. Even though he begged her not to throw him out, she did just that, saying that if he didn't learn to man up and stop being such a needy little brat, then he'd never be allowed back inside. He wasn't sure how or when he was supposed to be let back in, but on the second day of being left on the doorstep, she kicked him aside and told him that she didn't need layabouts like him around anymore, and for him to beat it before she beat him to dust.

She was just angry, he thinks. This happens a lot, with her screaming and taking her anger out on him. However, this was the first time she threw him outside to rot, and he could only hope that she found the note and was taking the time to calm down.

It was only a matter of time. He repeats the sentence over and over again in his mind, watching the window vigilantly with the hope that she'll come for him. Even if she was mean sometimes, he still loved her, and there isn't a single day where he misses being in her presence.

"Brassberry?" The other human calls out to him, holding a cupcake in one hand. "Do you want a snack?" He glances at them from the side and gives a short nod. They walk over quietly and place the cupcake down in front of him. There's a beat of hesitation, before they kneel down to his eye level and rest their head on their hands. "...no sign of her?"

"Not yet. But she'll come. Soon." They don't say anything in response, and instead stay there watching the window with him. It's quiet as they watch the world outside go about its business, and the cupcake they got for him is sweet and yummy. It tastes fresh, something he's not used to since all his mama ever got him were the stale cupcakes.

"Do you wanna do anything?"

"No. I want to stay here."

"Okay."

"..she'll come for me soon. She has to." He hugs his knees closer to his chest as he rests his head on them. There's a beat of silence, and then he feels something warm and comforting cup his entire back.

"I know." The human gently strokes his back, and he bites back the tears that threaten to escape his sockets as they continue to be kind to him. "I know."

\ = \

It's been two weeks. And still no sign of mama. He barely moves from the windowsill, and the human has to carry him from place to place, getting him to open his jaw in order to coax him into eating something, anything, and having to lift his limp limbs in order to wash him. He's giving up hope on ever seeing his mama again. She doesn't want him. He wasn't good enough. She probably hates him. She wants him dead. He should have just died on her doorstep instead of letting the other human take him to their place.

He's miserable.

The human shuffles about the house, trying to find new ways to engage him. He hears them pick things up and put them down, muttering to themselves and stealing glances towards him in worry. Why should they care about him? He belongs to someone else, not them.

"Brassberry?" They call out to him, but he doesn't respond. Instead, he buries his face between his knees and heaves a great sigh. Just let him die already.

"...Brassberry?" They call out softer this time. He curls up into a tighter ball and refuses to acknowledge them.

Silence.

Just when he thinks the human will finally leave him alone to waste away, a pair of hands gently scoop him up from his perch, and he finds himself cradled against their chest.

"Come on," they say. "Let's go watch a movie." The human lays down on the couch and adjusts him so that he's sprawled out on top of them, head facing the TV as they turn it on and switch it to the DVD menu. They press a few buttons on the remote and soon enough, a movie plays out on the screen.

It's called Titanic, and he watches the movie play out with disinterest, not bothering to keep up with the characters and plot. However, when one of the characters dies, he feels tears streaming down his face. He rubs them away vigorously, only to have more tears flow out, and soon enough, he's full on sobbing on the human, curling up on their chest as they comfort him and hold him close.

He cries for the rest of the night, clinging to their shirt as he wheezes. He doesn't get why he's crying honestly, he gives zero shits about the characters, but once that one guy just lets himself sink into the ocean, his chest starts to hurt and he finds himself bawling his eye sockets out. Nothing makes sense to him, but the only thing he knows for sure is that he's hurting a lot.

The human lets him weep on top of them, stroking his skull and back until he calms down. He's completely spent from his breakdown, and the human gently moves him up so that he's resting his cheekbone on their neck. A blanket is pulled up to cover them both, and the TV is turned off.

"...Night, Brassberry." The human gives him one gentle pat on the back as he closes his eye sockets. The crickets outside the window chirp melodically, and it helps lull him to sleep.

\ =\

It's three weeks since he's been abandoned, and the human is trying to figure out how to make the living room more livable for him. He watches from the windowsill as they drag a huge box in, looking highly displeased with it. They glance up at him and look sheepish, before gesturing down at it.

"I kinda figured you'd want some privacy, but I didn't think a cage would be really… fitting for you, you know? Cages are for pets, and you're sorta… Not? Really? One?" Technically he is, but he won't tell them that. Even though it'll be funny to watch them go through a moral dilemma, he does want some privacy since there's no telling when they'll walk into the living room when he's relieving himself. He huffs and gestures at the box.

"And what makes you think a box is any better?" They bite their lip and oh, he can just tell that he already missed out on an internal struggle earlier.

"W-well… We can decorate it! I have some paint, and it's big enough that we can make a second floor with some of that thin wood stuff that they have." Thin wood stuff? Okay.

"Do you really think a cardboard box is gonna handle wood that easily?"

"Mmmm…" He takes that as a no and shakes his head.

"Nevermind. The box will do-"

"No!" He jumps, and the human covers their mouth in shock. "Oops, um, sorry! We can just, make you a house? I mean, I have some spare cash, it probably won't be that hard. Plus, I have neighbors who could help us out if we ask nicely enough. And it'll be sturdy! With no flimsy wood!" He sighs and crosses his arms.

"Alright. But it better be decent looking."

\ =\

It takes some time and a lot of help, but they finally finish making the house (really, it's a DIY dollhouse, but he can't be picky about everything). It's a bit misshapened and some of the edges still need to be sanded down, but there's a little door that he can open and a whole entire side that swings open so that the human can put in furniture for him and help him decorate it. He won't admit it, but he's really fucking excited to get to the painting part. They had left earlier that day to go to the hardware store, picking out colors for his house and its rooms, and he was hellbent on making sure that his house looked really fucking cool when they were done with it. The human covers the ground with newspaper, setting the paints and house on top of it before grabbing Brassberry to start the painting.

By the time they finish, it's dark out and the house looks like an absolute mess of colors and designs.

And he absolutely loves it.

"Holy fucking hell this looks great." The human looks at him completely unsure of his statement.

"...Really?"

"Hell yes."

"But… It looks like some edgy monster vomited all over it. Holy crap it looks dark. Do you think we can work lights into this…?" The human starts muttering to themselves about lighting and considers going back to the hardware for advice and ideas, completely forgetting about Brassberry as he basks in the greatness that is his house.

This beats the old cage his mama got for him.

The human keeps muttering, frowning down at the house as they tap their chin thoughtfully. They completely miss the growling sound that's coming from their stomach, biting their knuckle as their eyebrows bunch together in thought. Brassberry, however, doesn't miss the sound, and he tugs on the hem of their shirt, trying to get their attention.

"Hm?" The human looks down at him. "What is it?"

"We need to eat."

"What?"

"We need. To eat."

"..." They blink in confusion before the statement sinks in. "Oh. Oohhh. Yes. Right. Food." He rolls his pupils around as they pick him up, carrying him into the kitchen. "After dinner, I think we should take a shower." Their paint covered clothes match his, and he's glad that he removed his jacket before he started to paint. He huffs out a laugh and nods in agreement.

"Yeah. We probably should." The human looks down at him in shock and smiles brightly.

Halfway through dinner, he realizes that this was the first time since he lived with his mama that he laughed out loud. No wonder the human smiled.

\ =\

By the end of the fourth week, they've gotten all the furniture and Christmas lights they need to spruce up his house. His house sits against the wall, and the lights connect to an extension cord equipped with a switch so that he can have the lights on whenever he so pleases. He's got his own bed, a table, a miniature bookcase to hold whatever trinkets he gets his hands on, a makeshift closet, and additional clothing that's not irritating to wear and hard to move in.

They bought nearly everything at the toy store, and it was fan-fucking-tastic. He had never seen someone so disturbed by dolls before, and it was hilarious watching them shriek when a doll started babbling at them suddenly.

It totally wasn't his fault.

The two of them are celebrating with cheap Chinese take-out and a movie of Brassberry's choosing. It's some gory thriller called Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and he's having the time of his life watching the human staring at the screen in horror, noodles spilling from their mouth as they press themselves closer against the couch.

"Why did I think it was a good idea to let you pick the movie?" They whisper softly to themselves, dinner completely forgotten as he snorts at their expression of terror. A scream erupts from the screen, and the human cries out in turn. He laughs at their fear, earning a weak glare from them as they try to focus on their dinner.

By the time the movie is finished, the couch is covered in noodles and rice, courtesy of the human's constant jumping and shrieking. They help him down onto the ground and set to work on cleaning the couch as best they can while Brassberry mills around. He wants to help, but everything is too big for him, and echoes of what his mama told him before still resound as he looks up at the human struggling to get some rice out from the cushions.

"Jesus, I am never watching a horror movie ever again while eating rice-"

"Hey."

"Hm?" They look down at him, their expression turning triumphant when they pull out a few grains of rice. "What is it?"

"Is there… anything I can do to help?" They blink a few times before smiling.

"Brassberry, you don't have to-"

"Please." The human looks taken aback, and he looks off to the side, refusing to meet their gaze. "Just… Just let me help."

"Al-alright then. Um, can you get me that plastic bag over there?" He nods and quickly fetches it, pulling it over to them as they free some more grains of rice. "You can collect whatever food's on the ground and put it in there. I'm pretty much done with the couch, so we can just put all the trash in there."

"Okay." He starts to clean the floor of food and dumps them in the bag. While they pick up the empty boxes Together, they finish cleaning the mess the human had made in all their flailing and dispose of the trash. The human dusts off their hands and smiles down at him.

"A job well done! I think it's time for us to sleep. See ya in the morning!" They walk off in the direction of their room, waving back at him as they leave.

"Night." He makes his way to his house and goes up the plastic stairs, settling down in his bed and falling asleep.

"You piece of trash!"

"Useless!"

"Stop being so fucking needy!"

"The hell is wrong with you?"

"Can't do anything fucking right."

"Go to your own bed!"

"GET OUT!"

He jolts awake, sweat pouring down his skull as he clutches his blankets. The words ring in his skull, and they sound so real, so recent, that he has a hard time catching his breath, and he needs, he needs SOMETHING. It's too dark, and he can feel the darkness creeping up on him, threatening to snuff him out, and suddenly everything's too cold and his shirt feels wet and he needs help, someone help, please don't leave him ALONE HE'S SO SCARED, MAMA PLEASE-

He tumbles out of bed and sprints down the stairs. Stumbling, he trips his way out of his house and races towards the human's room. The door is wide open, and the human is snoring peacefully on their bed as he climbs his way up to them. He's tempted to just curl up next to them, but images of his mama screaming at him when she found him sleeping next to her fill him with apprehension, so he presses his shaking hands against them and gently shakes them. The human opens their eyes and blinks blearily, turning their head and looking around for what woke them. He gulps and shakes them again, drawing their gaze towards them.

"Brass…?" They mumble out the first part of his name before scooping him into their hands and bringing him closer to their face. Squinting, they wipe away the tears that had streaked down his face, unnoticed by him while he was panicking in fear. "Hey buddy, what's wrong?" Now that he's here, he's filled with embarrassment once he realizes that he let his fear get the better of him. His mama's voice can be heard as clear as day, sneering at him for showing weakness.

"I- ...it's n-nothing. Sorry for waking you up." He tries to shove their finger away, but they keep a firm grip on him, preventing him from making his getaway.

"Hey now, I'm already awake, so you might as well tell me." Their voice is soft and gentle, and their fingers are stroking his back in comfort. He looks away, refusing to face them as he mumbles out his reply.

"I said it was nothing. I'll just go back to my bed-"

"Did you have a nightmare?" Surprised, he looks at them in shock, and they smile kindly at him, hugging him close to their chest. "It's okay, I get those too. It must have been real bad if it made you come here." They roll onto their back and close their eyes, relaxing their hold on him as they let out a soft sigh. "You can sleep here. I don't mind. It'll be a lot better than going back to your room in the dark…" They yawn and press him closer to their side, already drifting back to sleep. "Night, Brass…"

"..." He remains there, pressed against their side as he watches the slow rise and fall of their chest in the dark. It's not something he wants to admit, but he's relieved that they didn't yell at him and that they're letting him sleep in their bed after waking them up like that. No use in going back after they offered, right? Plus, he was already feeling tired again, so he crawls under the covers and snuggles up against them, grunting when he feels their arm curl around him.

It feels… nice.

He relaxes in their sleepy embrace and falls asleep.

\ =\

It's been a solid month and a half since his abandonment. Living with this new human made him realize just how stressed out he was living with his mama. Here, he doesn't have to watch what he says or does around them. They just smile and laugh, shrugging his jabs and insults aside as they chatter with him. The two of them can go through a conversation without them screaming at him in the end, which is a nice change of pace from his mama. Very rarely do they get upset with him, and when they do, they just scold him and revoke his TV time for a bit, before relenting the next day once he apologizes.

They're nice and kind. He finds himself relaxing around them and missing their presence when they go to work. Luckily, they give him a spare phone they had lying around. It's old as hell and barely works, but it can connect to the internet, and he finds himself browsing the web and reading up on the latest urban and supernatural tales (he tries to convince them that the sasquatch is real, but they just shrug his concerns off, stating that they live far enough away from the mountains that the creature won't find them. plus, they heard the sasquatch is pretty nice, so there's no worries about getting attacked by it. slenderman on the other hand...)

Even though he's relaxed and calmer than ever before, he sometimes watches the human stagger into the house, looking exhausted and spent. It concerns him when they come home like this, as they always look ready to pass out and never wake up again. They never tell him what it is at work that stresses them out, but once they see him waiting on the coffee table, their face lightens up and they focus all their attention on him. He figures out that being around for them is enough to make them feel better, so he goes on to tell them what he heard about some of the figures he learned about, like Jeff the Killer or the Rake. They always listen with an intrigued face, so he continues to ramble on, reminding them to lock the doors and close the shades at night, just in case.

Imagine his surprise when they come home later than usual, opening the door with incredible difficulty as they giggle out a "ha'lo". He watches them with a raised brow, putting the phone down and watching them with concern.

"Uh, hi?"

"Brassy!" They slam the door shut, flinching when it closes before stumbling over to him, placing their head on the table and laughing like an idiot.

"...Brassy?" That's a first.

"Brassy c'mere lemme givechu some chuchuus." They reach for him as he backs away from their drunken flailing.

"Hell no! 'Choochoos'? What the fuck is that?!" The human drops their hands onto the table and pouts, looking at him with their eyes impossibly round.

"Chuuuu. Like kisses, but anime style!"

"The hell?"

"Braaassyyyyyyyy." He lets out a loud groan and walks back to their face, pushing at their cheek as they whine.

"Get to bed, you drunk." Before he can react, they wrap their arms around him, successfully trapping him in their embrace and nuzzling their cheek against his.

"Gotchuuuuuu!" They press a big, wet, sloppy kiss on half of his face before snuggling their head again under his chin and pressing their forehead against his sternum. Brass didn't think the position they were in was very comfortable, but he found himself petting their head anyways, seeing as he couldn't move.

"...ve…"

"Hm?" The human adjusts the position of their head so that they were resting their cheek on the table and mumbles louder for him to hear.

"Iiiii wuv youuuuu."

"..oh my God." They giggle in response, wrapping a hand around him and keeping him in place, humming softly as they sat there. Brass cleared his throat and patted their hair. "You should really get to bed."

"Haaaaa carry me."

"Are you fucking serious right now? I'm the size of your goddamn cups."

"Braaaasssyyy!" They whine loudly, making him groan in response. "M'room is too far awaaii."

"Fine, just! Sleep, on the couch. Right now." A low hum is his response as they sluggishly scootch closer to the couch, Brassberry held tightly in their hands as they climb onto their temporary bed. As they roll onto their side, they cuddle Brass close to them, nuzzling against his skull with a content sigh.

"Luv you."

"Okay. Go to sleep."

"Okay." They curl up around him, snoring lightly as he's held in their arms. He stays awake a little longer, before pressing a tentative kiss against their arm.

They're nothing like his mama, and for that, he's grateful.

\ =\

They come home drunk a lot more often after that. It's not bad, per se, as they tend to be very loving and emotional when they see him, often peppering him with kisses and repeating drunken "I love you"'s until they pass out on the couch. But it's been happening more and more often, which is starting to concern Brass.

When they come home drunk a fifth time that week, Brass is determined to get the truth out of them. Draping themselves over the table once more, they make vague grabby motions towards him when he shoves their hands away. They look up at him, eyes filled with hurt and confusion.

"Brassy?"

"Why are you drunk nowadays?" They grin widely and rest their chin on top of their hands.

"'Cause it's fun being drunk, hehe."

"But why now?"

"Why not?" For someone who was drunk, they were pretty evasive with their answers. Brass groans and sits down in front of their face. They blow some air into his face, laughing when he glares at them.

"You weren't getting drunk before. What changed?" They hum softly before turning their face away from him.

"Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"I don't gotta tell ya." It occurs to him that they might not be as drunk as they seem, but rather buzzed and were pretending to be shitfaced. ...Why the fuck?

"Hey. How much did you drink?" A low whine escapes their throat as they hide their face from him.

"...Enough."

"So you're not actually drunk then."

"I am!"

"Stop fucking lyin'." They flinch at his words, fingers gripping the sleeves of their dress shirt tightly. "...Why are you pretending to be drunk?" He waits patiently for a response before he hears a tired sigh, and the human shifts so that they rest their cheek on their arms.

"Y'know how if you pretend really hard about somethin', you start ta believe it?"

"Sorta."

"Well, that's what I'm doin'. Sorta. Kinda did drink. Just enough to feel tipsy or buzzed. If I drank anymore I probably wouldn't make it back home. But like." They wave a hand around in the air. "I want to be drunk. Cause it helps me loosen up and shit. Y'know, more confidence and shit. Ferget 'bout all the bad stuff fer a bit. Let's me pretend that I don't reme'ber what I did or said when I was 'drunk'. Let's me pretend that I forgot what happened durin' the day." It's vague and hard to grasp, but Brass thinks he's got a better understanding about why they're so bent on pretending to be drunk and takes a guess as to what's been going on with them.

"...Work that bad?" They freeze up at his words and lower their hand.

"..."

"You can tell me."

"...Do you actually care though?" They turn their head to look at them, eyes tired and bloodshot, and he's not sure if their eyes are red because of a lack of sleep or because they've been crying. He leans forward, looking them straight in the eyes.

"Of fucking course I do. Why else would I be interrogating you?" The human blinks slowly before a laugh escapes them. He watches as the laughs become hysterical, before slowly dissolving into a sob, and the human hides their face from him as though ashamed to be crying in front of him. A hand comes up and buries itself in their hair, and he watches in shock as they tug harshly at their hair as they continue to weep. He bolts up and grabs their hand, pulling it away from their hair and detangling the strands of hair that managed to be yanked out by their tugging. "Hey hey! Stop that! Don't do that to yourself!" The hand falls limply to the table, and he waits for the sobs to calm down. Slowly, they lift their head up and he figures that yeah, their eyes are red because they've been crying and his chest constricts when he realizes that they've been crying for who knows how long, and he's only just noticed now. He leans against their arms and gently wipes their face with his jacket's sleeve.

It's quiet, save for the human's occasional sniffle, and when they finally speak up, their voice is cracked and thick as they struggle to keep it leveled.

"D-do you… really mean that?" They're staring straight into his eye sockets, as if searching for a lie or motive behind his words. Even Brass begins to question himself, wondering if he really does care about this human whose name he refused to learn.

But a feeling of warmth arises when he remembers all the human has done for him without prompting, and he smiles as the words fall easily from his mouth.

"Yeah, I do." He hugs their face and presses a skeleton kiss on their forehead before leaning his cheekbone against them. The human's breathing hitches, and he can feel the tears escaping from their eyes again. "I care. So it's okay."

They sit there for the rest of the night, and Brass doesn't think once about his mama for the first time since he was abandoned.

\=\

Slowly, he finds out more about the human who took him in. He learns that their job tends to get horribly busy during this time of year, and their boss becomes increasingly more agitated as the season progresses. It leads to their boss lashing out at everyone, including them. Lately, they've been the sole target of their boss' frustration and anger. It makes him angry, thinking about all the shit their boss puts them through just because couldn't work fast enough to satisfy their needs.

Then he learns that the human had been hurt before by people they trusted, and it's been an ongoing circle of trust lost and trust regained, but in the end, the human had ultimately closed themselves off from other people. It explains the lonely state the house was in when he first arrived. No one comes to visit them, and the human was strangely okay with that.

He comes to the conclusion that he may be the only companion the human has had in a long time, and this information makes him try harder to keep his human from falling apart before his eyes as they struggle to keep it together.

The plus side is that they've started coming home less buzzed. The downside was that they'd immediately lock themselves in their room to try and cry out their stress. It never worked though, and they'd leave their room looking more tired and stressed than before. So he's taken to asking for hugs the minute they step into the house, taking the moment to climb onto their shoulders once they sweep him into a tight hug. With him riding along, they're less likely to run off into their room to hide and cry.

Today was one of those days, where he diligently climbed onto their shoulder after a hug was given. He pats their cheek to get their attention and points to the kitchen.

"Come on. We need dinner."

"Oh, right."

"I wanna watch a movie tonight too."

"Hmm… Okay."

"You can pick tonight, since I already picked yesterday."

"Okay." As they move about the house getting dinner and the movie ready, he talks about Slenderman and the videos he watched that proved his existence. They give him a dry chuckle, stating that they were probably safe from him since they weren't a kid. Once they both settle down on the couch, movie playing quietly in the background as they eat, Brass taps their knee for their attention. "Hmm?" They look at him with noodles hanging from their mouth.

"Hey. I uh, you don't need to be worried about Slendy." They slurp up the noodles and turn their attention back to the movie.

"Why's that?"

"Cause I'd protect you." This makes them pause in their dinner, turning to him in surprise.

"...You?"

"Yeah." He shoves some food in his mouth to hide the fact that he was blushing a bit. "I know I'm small, but I can do some really cool shit. I mean, I'm a fucking magical skeleton, so I have to do something cool." They chuckle softly, this time more genuine and pleased than before. He turns to see them smiling happily at him.

"Alright. I'll depend on you then." It takes a while, but he returns the smile and goes back to finishing his dinner.

Briefly, he wonders if it's normal for BittyBones to take care of their caretakers as well.

(he begins to wonder when he considered the human to be his caretaker)

\=\

It's been three months since they've been living together, and he and the human were attempting to bake a cake with mixed results.

"I'm tellin' you, if you just mixed in some meat into the batter it'll taste fucking awesome."

"That sounds gross."

"People drizzle chocolate on chicken, so why not beef in cake?"

"Hmm, if we do that, then you and the cake will have something in common."

"And what's that?" The human looks down at him, flour dusting their hands as they point fingerguns at him and waves them up and down.

Oh no.

"You'd both be… beefcakes!" He bites down on the piece of raw meat he was holding in his hands to hide his snickers, because that totally WASN'T funny and NO he wasn't LAUGHING he was just exercising his RIBS. Once he stops shaking, he looks at them with the most unimpressed stare he could manage. The shit-eating grin on their face just grows bigger as he continues to stare.

"I'm a fucking skeleton. I don't have muscles." The eyebrows on their face rise as the grin on their face grows impossibly bigger.

"Okay but DICKS-"

"We are NOT discussing this-"

"DICKS ARE MUSCLES!"

"Oh my GOD-"

"And you have one!"

"Do NOT-"

"Therefore, you HAVE muscles-"

"Those are fake!"

"I dunno man they seemed real to me I mean-"

"SHUT." At that, the human dissolves into unrestrained guffaws as they grip the countertop tightly, an arm curled around their waist as they double over in laughter. He's supposed to be feeling really embarrassed by the conversation that just took place, but he's fighting to keep the silly grin off his face as he peers over the edge to look at them squatting on the floor, unable to stand due to the howls of laughter escaping them. They wheeze and gasp as they shake their head, clearing their throat as they try to compose themselves.

"I-I dunno man, but you've got the cutest little weewee I've ever seen. I mean." They giggle as they look up at him "It's so small! So cute, very adorable."

"...I'm putting the meat in, right now."

"Aww, don't be a… little dick!" Ooohh, that's it. He picks up an egg and holds it over them.

"This is it. Say goodbye to your hair because it's going to be covered in chicken liquid. Any last words?" The human's eyes are wide as they stare at their hair's impending doom before he sees a glint in their eye and he wishes he was bigger because-

"You really CRACK me up, Brass!" -HE WOULD BE ABLE TO DROP MORE EGGS ON THEM.

"BYE!" He drops the egg, and it breaks weakly on their head, rolling off them and landing on the ground with a splat. Damn, the height just wasn't enough to do any lasting damage. The human laughs hysterically yet again, and he starts tossing the raw meat into the batter as revenge. As the human starts to slowly pull themselves off the ground, they hear the doorbell ring. They share a confused look before the human dusts their hands and gently pat his head.

"I'll go get it. You can finish adding the- oh my God you seriously put meat in the batter." He laughs at their horrified stare and he picks up a spoon to start mixing the ingredients together.

"More for me then. Go get the door." A strangled cry escapes them as they walk over to the door, opening it. He hears muffled talking as he looks over the recipe when a resounding slap is heard, and the human lets out a sharp yelp. Brass drops everything with wide eyes as he looks in the direction of the door.

Someone… slapped the human.

Someone slapped them.

HIS human.

Anger courses through his bones as he jumps from the countertop to a chair and then onto the floor. No one is allowed to hurt them! He can make out yelling as he races into the living room, skidding to a halt when he sees someone grabbing his human by the front of their shirt.

"What the HELL do you think you're-?!" He stops mid-sentence, fear replacing the anger as he stares up at the figure that was manhandling his human.

She stares down at him with a sickly sweet smile.

"Berry!"

It was his "mama".