"Blue's not happy about this, y'know," Pike mumbled, a bleary attempt at a grin tugging at his jaw. "Real far from happy, actually. He's probably gonna pull y'aside about it soon, give a d-d-dressing down."
"Stay still and stay quiet. You shouldn't even be smiling right now," Sable chided without looking up from his work, though after a few beats his suspicious curiosity got the better of him, as Pike knew it would. "What exactly is Blue's grievance?"
"This." Pike's hand wavered as he gestured vaguely at their current position: he with his back against the wall, his brother with a knee bearing down on his ribs, an elbow propped against his collarbone and the other hand gripping the crown of his skull to keep it craned at the proper angle. "I heard he an' some of the other sweet puffs think you're dopin' me t'keep me docile."
In his peripheral vision he could just make out his brother’s eyelights flashing briefly but his tone remained icily even. "Really."
"Mhm. S'kinda funny, huh?" A slurred giggle escaped, shaking his shoulders, which urged Sable to dig his elbow further in as reproach.
"Stop that. You're going to hurt something."
"An' that's my point. Even they're fallin' for th' shtick. Got 'em all c-convinced. Cruel master, defiant pet. Like they think I could do somethin' to hurt you or...verse vice." It took a solid five seconds for him to do a double take. "V-Vice verse, I mean. Versa. Etcetera. Et all. Et t-tu."
"Yes, thank you, I think I get the point." The point was that he and his brother were doomed to be misunderstood no matter where they went, no matter who they wished they could trust. Even when it was supposed to be like looking into a mirror, those Sans and Papyrus saw Sable and Pike as nothing but a dirty, unappealing reflection. Was this how Red and Edge felt when they first made contact with the others? How had they overcome it? How did they think of their swapped, fallen selves?
How could he blame them for jumping to conclusions as he pushed this rather alarmingly large syringe further into his brother's jaw? What else could they think?
"Th' point," Pike breathed faintly, suppressing a shiver as the needle found its way past scar tissue, dust welling around it. "Th' p-point..."
The point was that Sable was doing good by him, no matter how it looked from someone else's point of view; he'd be doing much better if he didn't have to bother. After all these years he really shouldn't have to nurse the stupid babybones who nearly got his jaw ripped off by a mere glancing blow, never healing, only coping, patching, maintaining through whatever means and methods they could find. He was the problem, not Sans, and the others ought to learn the difference, but that was too big a mouthful for too foggy a headspace as the dubiously acquired meds took their course.
Over the next few hours all he knew for sure was the euphoria blunting the edge of the pain was his brother’s doing, and he loved him all the more for it.
