Summary: Taste the sun!

Reaper prided himself on being an adequate father. Not perfect by any means, but always there should his little fledgling need him. The endless job of soul-reaping added some difficulty with its demanding hours, lack of pay, and often strenuous fights. However, the raven-winged skeleton kept himself reachable for the shining light of his repetitive life- and a faint buzzing from his pocket indicated said "shining light" needed him.

The death god's scythe drooped, much to the relief of his current target. Relief short-lived when his brother swooped in from behind and slashed the spirit, sending them on their way to the afterlife.

"Sans!" The slim, cloak-clad skeleton groused, "That's the third time this week! You really need to turn off that infernal device!"

Reaper- Sans winced. "Sorry, bro. I gotta take this."

"Sans," His brother started, chidingly.

The raven-winged skeleton grimaced at the tone. All the while, pulling the phone out of his pocket and explaining, "Look, Papyrus... I know I've been taking a lot of time off from work recently, but you gotta trust me when I say this is very important. If that doesn't sell you, then just know it's very important to me."

"Fine," The taller soul collector conceded. His arms crossed as he huffed and stationed himself nearby, stating, "Take your call! But I expect an explanation for all your mysteriousness later!"

Flashing a grateful (and, perhaps, somewhat relieved) smile, Reaper drew the phone to his ear and pressed "accept."

"Gothy-" He began, only to bristle when he got swiftly interrupted by a sharp wail.

"DAD!" His son cried, gasping through what sounded like tears. Consequently, causing the raven-winged skeleton's feathers to flare. "Fresh got in the house again!"

"Shi- shoot." The death god corrected, then awkwardly glanced toward his brother, who watched with a raised brow and curious eye sockets. He pinched the bridge of his nasal cavity, sighing, "Go outside and fan out in the sun. It should be enough to scare him off for now. I'll meet you in the garden as soon as possible, okay?"

A soft little sniffle came from the other side of the phone. "Okay."

"See you soon." With that, Reaper ended the call and promptly pocketed the device.

His brother's wings gave a flick. "You're leaving. Again."

A sigh weaved its way past his jaws as he met Papyrus' disapproving gaze.

"I really am sorry about leaving you to clean up this mess on your own- and I promise I'll make it up to you later!" Reaper placed the scythe on his back and began gathering magic, which didn't escape his brother's notice. Nor the other's tired acceptance of the fact he'd once again be picking up another shift of Sans' work. The raven-winged skeleton bit back the guilt building in his soul, adding, "My kid needs a moment of my time. When he needs me, it's non-negotiable."

Papyrus blinked. "Kid-"

"I'll try to be quick. Thanks for covering for me, bro!"

Several moments after the elder death god left, the younger finally snapped out of his stupor and threw his hands in the air.

"You have a child?! How is that possible?!" The cloak-clad skeleton questioned, yelling out into the open space, "You can't just run away, Sans- and not explain how I'm an uncle!"

A wide grin spread across his jaws before he cheered, "I AM AN UNCLE!"