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Til Dust Do Us Part

Summary:

It’s been 10 years since monsters emerged from the Underground in an attempt to integrate themselves in human society on the Surface. For the first 5, Frisk served as the monster’s Ambassador, working diligently to make peace with humans. For the last 5, however, the Ambassador disappeared, nowhere to be seen.

Sans runs a convenience store with his brother, Papyrus. When disaster strikes, however, Sans is caught up in the middle of it- and most interestingly of all, Frisk comes out of hiding to help solve it. She’s a lot different now- distant, strange, hurting. Together, the two form an unlikely duo in an attempt to solve the cases of strange monster disappearances and killings together.

Or: two dumb idiots play detective and fall in love in the process

Notes:

hi! this is zu, bringing you my first undertale fic.

wow. so, i took a lot of liberties with this fic. i used the deltarune lore more as a reference and less of a blueprint. so don't expect super canon-compliant stuff when it comes to the surface. i am just making shit up as i go and yall gotta be here for it.

another note; i don't actually really like frisk x sans all that much LMFAOO. now you may be asking me, 'then why tf did you write a frisk x sans centered story?". well, my lovely theoretical readers, long story short is my brother dared me to write a frisk x sans story that WASN'T "mind-numbingly cringe to read", so this is my attempt.

i genuinely hope you guys all enjoy this though !! i poured a lot of effort into it >:)

Chapter 1: in which things on the surface are not as they appear to be

Chapter Text

If you’d have told Sans a decade ago that he’d get to feel the sun on his face in the very near future, he wouldn’t have believed you.

Well, first he’d probably tell you a horrible pun about sunlight. But then he wouldn’t have believed you.

And yet, here he was, in a seemingly improbable future, watching the sun rise for the 4019th time since emerging from the Underground.

He exhaled, his breath curling visibly in the cold March air, beams of golden light cutting through the roofs of buildings and stores. He could feel its faint warmth bleeding through his puffy jacket and seeping into his bones. He turned away, continuing his slow and steady shuffle down the road-

SANS !” shrieked Papyrus from about 10 yards away. “Hurry UP, you lazybones! We’re going to be late to open up the store!”

“Chill, bro. I don’t think anyone’s gonna be looking for a run to the convenience store anyways at the crack of dawn,” Sans yawned.

Papyrus looked scandalized. “WHAT! SANS!”

 Sans raised his hand and gave Papyrus a little salute. “That’s me.”

“WE CANNOT DISAPPOINT THE CUSTOMERS! AS OWNERS OF THE STORE, WE HAVE A TREMENDOUS AMOUNT OF RESPONSIBILITY! WHERE WILL MONSTERS AND HUMANS ALIKE TURN TO, IF NOT TO US?”

“The grocery store down the road?” Sans offered. 

Papyrus stamped his foot aggressively. The very few pedestrians who were out and about in the city were beginning to give Sans and Papyrus odd looks. “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!”

“Relax, Paps. I’m hurrying. See? I’m walking faster.” 

“I’ve seen tortoises walk faster.” 

“Really? Huh. Then I guess I shell have to walk even faster.”

Sans could see Papyrus’ lip tug into a smile, before he shouted, “UGH!” and flounced further down the street without him. Sans chuckled, and continued his pace until he reached The Greatest General Store Ever!!

(You can probably guess who decided the name.)

Pulling his keys out of his jacket, he unlocked the door, opening it for a very impatient Papyrus, who flurried inside and immediately went to the back room to change. It became Sans’ job to turn on all the lights, straighten the shelves, and flip the Closed sign to Open . He then went behind the counter and began fiddling with the cash register.

“Aren’t you going to change into your uniform, brother?” Papyrus inquired from the back, his voice muffled.

“Nah. Too much work.” Not that it could be even called a ‘uniform’. Papyrus had insisted they get matching shirts with the words cool cashier scrawled on them, complemented with a Hello! My name is sticker. Papyrus’ read THE GREAT PAPY , because he wrote his name too big for it to entirely fit on the space. Whenever they happened to be working the same shift, Sans liked to refer to Papyrus as ‘The Great Papaya’.  

There was a faint ringing noise- the bell by the door had been triggered. Sans glanced up, eyebrows rising. “Well, whaddaya know,” he said, genuinely surprised. “Looks like there are some wackos who need a convenience store run at 6 in the morn.” 

The customer had most of their face tucked away, a scarf covering half the face and the hood hiding the rest. Though judging from their physique, they were probably human. They lumbered inside, taking their time weaving through the aisles. 

Eventually, they came up to Sans and slid forward a bottle of Advil and a chocolate bar. 

“Nice weather today, eh?” Sans said, ringing them up. “Lot more colder than yesterday. I always prefer cooler days over hotter ones.” The register made a strangulated noise. “Uh, whoops, hold up. This old thing is broken again. Give me just a sec-”

Sans lifted the register and began banging it against the counter. The stranger stood there, holding their chocolate bar and Advil in a complete- and bemused- silence. Finally, the cash register clicked, and the cash compartment slid open. “There ya go, kid.  2 dollars ’n 9 cents is your change.”

Sans held out the money expectantly. The stranger glanced down, their grip tightening on their goods, and their jaw working. They parted their lips slightly, then firmly clamped them shut, snatching the money from Sans’ waiting hand and darting out the door. 

“Bye?” Sans watched them leave, scratching his head. 

“What? What happened? What did I miss?” Sans turned to Papyrus, who bustled out of the backroom and at Sans’ side. 

“Humans are weird,” was all Sans had to say about it. 

The rest of the day went by without any more strange encounters. By 6pm, Sans was ready to call it a day. 

“SANS! We can’t close up shop yet!”

Sans glanced back at Papyrus, his fingers hovering over the Open sign. “What’s up?”

“We have-” Papyrus puffed out his chest, and proudly thrusted up his phone for Sans to see. “-a requested delivery!

Requested deliveries were Papyrus’ idea. Basically, once a customer reached a certain level of patronage (and if they kept track of it using their The Greatest App Ever!! ) They were given the special privilege. They would punch in an order of items they wanted from The Greatest General Store Ever!! , and Papyrus or Sans would deliver it. 

However, not a lot of people ever reached that level of patronage, so requested deliveries were pretty rare. Whenever they got one, it got Papyrus very, very excited. 

“Woah. That’s awesome, dude.” Sans leaned back. “So d’you wanna take the order, or-”

“ME!” Papyrus was jumping up and down manically, similar to how a human would jump up and down manically if they won the lottery. “ME! ME!”

“Fine, I guess ,” Sans said with exaggerated, artificial reluctance. Papyrus clapped excitedly, then began zooming around the door, snatching a paper bag from under the counter and went hunting for the goods required in the order. 

“Hey,” Sans said suddenly, observing Papyrus. “What’s the address?”

Papyrus paused, grabbing his phone and checking. “5612 Briars Street. Hey, that’s close to Queen Toriel’s house!” 

“Alright. Just uh- call me as soon as you leave the store.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll miss my bro,” Sans replied swiftly, grinning as Papyrus scoffed at him. 

“Oh, very well then. I shall be swift so you won’t miss me too much,” Papyrus huffed, and paper bag in hand, swept out of the store. Sans watched him leave, the grin slipping a little once Papyrus was out of his line of sight.

On the Surface, things were a hell of a lot different. Even 10 years after- which is a considerable amount of time- Sans’ nerves were still a little on edge. He wasn’t stupid; humans were fickle creatures, and very territorial. And this was a whole new world for monsterkind to navigate through. But at least back then, the Ambassador was around. The kid could smooth things over, talk it out. She’d been in both worlds. She knew how to find that middle ground.

It wasn’t not like anything drastic had happened since she disappeared. The peace she created was still maintained. Monsters had already integrated themselves, and the humans were getting used to it. But Sans knew there were probably still some disgruntled folks out there. There always were. 

On cue, Sans’ phone began to ring. He fished it out of his pocket and answered on the first ring. “’Sup, bro?”

“You know what’s up , brother,” Papyrus grumbled out from the other end, his voice tinny, and just the sound of it made something squirmy settle in Sans’ stomach. “I am a skeleton on a mission! I am on the road to bequeath the requested delivery to one of our most valued customers!” 

“Sounds important.”

“IT IS IMPORTANT! I was just telling you about this 10 seconds ago!” 

“Oh yeah.” Sans began turning off the lights in shop, flipping the Open sign over and locking up. “You’ll have to tell me more, then. What kinda stuff did they ask for anyway?”

“Let me see!” A shuffling noise, then Papyrus’ voice. “They ordered a pair of scissors, a cool customer t-shirt, hand sanitizer, and a box of California rolls!” 

“Interesting.”

“We should reserve judgment, brother! California rolls might be putrid, but not to our very valued customer! And the customer is always right, even when they are spectacularly wrong.”

“Pfft. Whatever you say.” 

They continued chatting for another five minutes, and by then Sans had locked up and was walking home. “So uh, I was wondering if we could maybe have something other than spaghetti for dinner tonight.”

“ARE YOU INSULTING MY COOKING!” Papyrus shrieked, and Sans had to lean away from his phone. “I WILL REMIND YOU! KING ASGORE SAID HE LOVED IT! THE KING! SAID! HE LOVED IT!”

“He was in the bathroom for a very long time, Paps.”

“NOT VERY LONG! I TIMED IT! He was in there 4 minutes less than our last guest!”

“My bad. You’re right.”

“I AM ALWAYS RIGHT! NYEHEHEHEH!” 

Sans laughed softly, looking up at watching the night blue swallow up the fading orange sky. “Let me prepare dinner this time. Call it a, uh… celebration for our 3rd ever requested delivery.”

“A celebration ?! In that case, count me in-”

Papyrus suddenly disconnected. 

Now, at first Sans wasn’t very worried. It was very likely Papyrus accidentally ended the call out of excitement. So Sans merely called him again.

When Papyrus didn’t pick up the first, second, or third time, only then Sans began to worry. A lot. 

What was the address again? Right. 5612 Briars Street. From the store to here, that was about… roughly a 10 minute walk? They had been on the phone for 7 minutes. Papyrus was either nearly there, or already there. 

Had someone jumped him? Was the requested delivery supposed to be a trap or some kind? Who would even do that? And why Papyrus , of all monsters? Not that it mattered. Sans shouldn’t have let him go. He should have gone with him instead.

Sans collected himself, and summoned his magic, preparing to teleport himself. His left eye sparked blue, and the world was sucked away in a brief darkness before his feet landed onto cracked, solid pavement.

Before him stood a small, quaint yellow house. He had barely taken a step towards it when the front door was blasted away, its hinges ripped clear off, and it came flying towards him; Sans meticulously dodged, his eyes darting back to the house. 

Someone was dragging Papyrus down the steps of the house, their face obscured by their hair. Papyrus was limp, not moving-

A fury and horror like Sans had never felt before erupted within him. He teleported once more, concentrating to appear behind the person. With a clean snap of  his fingers, a wall of bones erupted in front of both of them, trapping them with Sans. 

“Hold it, kid.” 

They froze. 

“You take another step forward, ’n you are not gonna like what happens next.” The Gaster Blaster Sans summoned behind him seemed to purr in agreement, vibrating with power. “Now, how about you be a pal and set my brother down. Gently .” 

They slowly bent down and let Papyrus rest on the steps. Upon closer inspection, Sans could see Papyrus’ rib cage rattling slightly underneath his shirt. He was breathing. He was alive, at least for now. He exhaled in relief, then turned his attention back to Papyrus' potential kidnapper.

“There ya go. And where are your manners? Don’t you know how to greet a new pal ? Turn around for me, why don’t you?”

Sans’ voice was quiet and tight, and it seemed to echo across the empty street. Slowly, the person stood up, and turned around, and Sans finally got a good look at their face.

His first thought was, Hey, that looks a lot like that 6-am-Advil-and-chocolate guy from earlier. 

His second thought was-

Frisk ?” He said disbelievingly, his guard nearly slipping completely. 

“Hello, Sans,” Frisk said dryly. “Would you mind putting the blaster and the bones away? I’ve gotta get this guy to Mom’s.”

Frisk was the very last person Sans expected to see. Actually, she wasn’t the last. ‘Last’ implied he expected to see her at all, which he had not. Dumbstruck, he had the bones melted away and Gaster Blaster disappeared, and Frisk went to pick Papyrus up again.

“Wait!” Sans grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. She flinched out of his touch, and glared at him reproachingly. “Uh. Just lemme do it.”

Frisk looked him up and down. “... I don’t think you could manage. No offense.”

“Like you could, hotshot?” Sans eyed Frisk. The past 5 years hadn’t been very kind to her. He took in her sunken cheeks, thin body, slightly glazed eyes, and- was that alcohol he smelled on her? “And anyways, I don’t trust you. You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here hauling Papyrus around like he’s a sack of bones.” 

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Frisk muttered, but relented. Sans crouched down and, with a wave of his bony fingers, took control of Papyrus’ soul, lifting him off the ground and having him float beside them.

“Smart,” Frisk said begrudgingly. 

They began walking down over to Tori’s house, which thankfully was nearby. Sans had a million questions he wanted to ask her- where were you? How have you been? Why did you come back? , but he stayed quiet. He kept glancing over at Papyrus, making sure he was still breathing okay.

“He’s going to be alright,” Frisk said quietly. “They hadn’t hurt him when I got there. Just knocked him unconscious. He probably just has a concussion.” 

That didn’t have Sans yelling whoopee, but at least he wasn’t dusted.

“You know it wasn’t me, right?” 

Sans looked at her. Her shoulders were slumped, her voice was dull. But when she met his gaze, it was full of that determined fire he knew so well. “I would never hurt him.”

Sans contemplated this. “The kid I knew wouldn’t have. But then, the kid I knew wouldn’t have ghosted us for half a decade.”

“Ah.” Frisk swallowed, then said carefully, “Why I did it… well, it’s not important right now. There are bigger things to discuss.”

He couldn’t help but agree. “Let’s start with why you were with him.”

“Right. Well, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, the delivery was a trap.”

“Yes,” Sans agreed.

Frisk inhaled sharply, her hands clasped tightly. “So, hate crimes against monsters aren’t exactly uncommon, but they’ve been beginning to die down in the last couple years or so. However, in this last year, there have been an unusual amount of… ah, incidents that usually revolve around the serious injury or potential death of a monster. Now on the surface-level, none of them seem correlated. But they are . Papyrus isn’t an isolated case. From the intel I’ve gathered, I’m pretty sure there’s a monster serial killer active specifically in this city.” 

“... And you know this how?”

“Research,” Frisk said elusively, waving a hand. “But it’s not much. I don’t know who it is, or who they’re going to be targeting next, or their motive.”

“How’d ya know about Papyrus then?”

Frisk tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling in a slightly bittersweet way. “I’m still the ambassador to monsterkind, Sans. It’s pretty much my job to know this kind of stuff.”

“’N here I thought you gave all that up when you ran out on us.” Whatever ghost of a smile Frisk had on fell away, and her eyes averted to the ground. “We really needed you, kid.” 

Frisk was silent.

“Hey.” Sans came to a halt. “I’m serious. You didn’t tell a single soul where you skedaddled to. Everyone was worried. Tori was in hysterics. Undyne and Paps ordered a Human Patrol Watch for weeks.”

“Where I went to is no one’s business but my own,” Frisk replied, an edge to her voice.

“Sorry,” Sans said, not sounding sorry at all. 

They continued the rest of their journey in tense silence, until they were right at Toriel’s doorstep. As Sans prepared to knock on the door, he realized Frisk was hanging back, a conflicted look across her face.

“You alright?” Sans asked, reluctantly feeling a little concerned.

“I- yeah, I’m fine, it’s just… deja vu, or something,” Frisk said, tugging at the ends of her hair. Then, in a quieter voice. “I don’t think I’m ready to see her.” 

“Wh-? Are you joking?” Sans demanded. “You haven't seen her in years.” 

“I know that.”

“She really misses you.”

“I know that,” Frisk repeated.

Sans stood there, flabbergasted. “You know that and you don’t wanna see her?”

“I… I just can’t.”

Sans gestured to the door. “You could. Like, right now?”

Sans .”

“Didya turn emo without telling me or something?” Sans squinted at her. Though Frisk rolled her eyes, he could see her shift uncomfortably. 

He thought back to those first days without Frisk. How, as one of Tori’s only friends, he’d come over with Papyrus a few times every week to check in on her. Bring her board games, new snacks to try, funny stories to tell. And slowly, over time, Toriel got better. Some of the life came back to her. 

Frisk really bonded with Toriel. They truly were like mother and daughter. So the only logical reason why Frisk didn’t want to see her had to be…

“You’re leaving again?”

“Annoyingly observant as always,” Frisk murmured, but she looked more sad than irritated. 

“You should go, then,” Sans said shortly. “Before she sees you. ’Cause honestly, I don’t think Tori’s heart can handle the second heartbreak.”

Frisk stepped back as if Sans struck her. There was a stricken look on her face, which morphed into guilt and something different, something darker. Then her eyes shuttered, and her face was once again the typical Frisk blank expression. 

Sans didn’t look back as he turned away from her, knocking three times on Tori’s door. He could hear her walking away. He never even thanked her for saving Papyrus’ life. 

“Hello? Oh, Sans!” Toriel said warmly, opening the door wider. “What brings you- Papyrus!

She let out a horrified gasp, and hurried Sans and Papyrus in, and any leftover thought of Frisk melted away. 

“What happened to him?” Toriel demanded as they laid Papyrus down on the couch. She rested a paw on Papyrus’ head, and both began to glow a faint green.

Sans hesitated, trying to figure out how to best explain to Toriel without mentioning You-Know-Who. “Well, we got an order for delivery. Paps took it. I was on the phone with him while he was walking to this address, ’n then he, er, disconnected? So naturally I got worried, y’know? So I ran, and then I… uh, found him like this…”

There was something weird going on with Sans’ voice. It kept failing mid-sentence. To save himself embarrassment, he abruptly stopped talking and just stared at Papyrus.

“Are you alright, Sans?” 

“I think so.”

“It’s alright, Sans. This is- this has never happened to you before. It must have such a scare for you. But because you were such a good brother, you got there in time.”

He hadn’t, though. Frisk had. “I know.”

“It’s okay to be shaken up by it. But look at him. He’s alright, Sans. He’s going to be alright.”

And he was. Looking at Papyrus’ peaceful face, Sans felt something more monstrous than anger or horror- his old buddy fear . He had felt it all his life, gnawing at him, and now he felt its presence more than ever.

“I just came so close to losing him, y’know?” Sans said dully, watching Toriel heal Papyrus. “And… I dunno… this sort of thing would have never happened Underground. I knew pretty much everyone in Snowdin. They're good folk. And The Surface… it’s much bigger than Snowdin. And there’s so many humans. I can’t account for everyone’s actions ’cause I don’t know them. I don’t wanna, y’know… control Paps or anything- this is what we worked so hard for, to get out of that caged hellhole. So we can have that freedom. ’M not saying it was better down there, or anything But I feel like…”

“... it was safer down there?” Toriel finished gently.

“Yeah.” Sans nodded slightly. “Safer.”

“Do you want to report this to the police?”

Sans snorted. “I don’t think those pretentious hey look at me I have a gun and a badge, fear me dudes are gonna do anything for us.” 

“Do you want to talk to Undyne, then, maybe?”

“... Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“Alright.” Toriel rested her free paw on Sans’ shoulder, the small warmth comforting him. Then she stood. “Well, I’ve done what I can for him now. All we have to do is wait for him to wake up. I’ll go brew us some tea then, hm?”

With a soft smile, she rose and walked to the kitchen, her purple dress whispering against the wooden floor. 

 


 

Papyrus woke up an hour later. 

He’d woken up, delirious and confused. It had taken him 10 minutes for him to regain his surroundings and for Sans to convince Papyrus that he was not dead.

“But then,” Papyrus said hysterically. “did you ever give the customers their order?”

Toriel and Sans exchanged a look before Sans said, “Yeah, bud. They got your order. They, uh, they were thoroughly impressed with how fast it was. Gave ya a fancy-schmancy 5-star rating.”

“REALLY?”

Sans nodded.

“WOWIE!!! I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE IT! THE MISSION WAS A SUCCE- OW!” Papyrus had gotten so excited he fell off the couch. 

They decided to have a sleepover at Toriel’s house. She made them all a new dish she had learned from one of the children at her school- something called lasagna. It was kinda like spaghetti, but more sponge-like. Whatever it was, it was amazing. Papyrus angrily had seconds, muttering “spaghetti copycat” the entire time. 

When Toriel was sleeping peacefully in her room, and Papyrus was snoozing on the couch; only then did Sans carefully ease himself outside, closing the door behind him gently.

“I know you’re still here, kid.”

Silence.

“C’mon. Don’t you wanna hear more about Papyrus’ assailants?” 

More silence. 

Then was a faint rustle, and Frisk slipped into view, folding her arms. 

“Were you listening the entire time?”

Frisk stared at him a moment longer before shaking her head. “... No. The windows were closed. I was just watching.”

“That’s a bit creepy, kiddo.”

“Oh please. Don’t give me that shit.” Frisk bit her lip, tapping her foot impatiently. “So? What’d he say about them?”

“Paps?”

“Hmm?” Papyrus didn’t look up from the mug of hot chocolate he had requested from Toriel. He was intent on spearing one of the mini marshmallows with his teeth. 

“So, uh… you don’t hafta talk about it if it’s traumatizing or anything. But me ’n Tori would really like to know what happened. Y’know, who attacked you, what they looked like, what weapons…” 

Papyrus, paused, then gravely set down his hot chocolate, turning to look at Sans. 

“He said that there were two of them. One of them held him back by the shoulders, ’n the other guy smothered him with this napkin- had some kind of drug in it, meant to sedate him. Only it didn’t work the way it was supposed to, since monsters got a different body then humans… anyways, the drug was taking slower to work. He thinks he saw them rummaging through his paper bag. Clearly, they used the shirt to bind him, hand sanitizer to wash their hands,  I’m presuming they were gonna eat the California rolls, ’n as for the scissors… well. ”

Frisk sucked in a breath. “Clever,” she muttered. “Using the items brought by the store so the weapon choice gives us no leads. Did they leave fingerprints?”

Sans shook his head. “They were apparently wearing gloves.” 

Frisk swore. “Well, if there’s any further proof that this wasn’t a passion crime or a spur-of-the-moment kinda thing, there it is.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “Did he recognize them at all?”

“They were masked, so no.” Sans paused, then pulled out his phone. “But. Uh. There’s this app we have…so  in order to request for a delivery, you hafta be a customer for a certain period of time ’n buy certain items. And you gotta make an account. It requires some personal information. We could use this?” 

“Let me see that,” Frisk said immediately, holding out her hand. But Sans kept his phone in his grasp, giving Frisk an assessing gaze. 

“Hold on, kiddo. I got a favor to ask ya first.”

She stared at him, then retracted her hand, eyeing him more warily now. “What is it?”

“I wanna join your little witch hunt.” 

Frisk’s eyes widened a millimeter; she was speechless for a few moments, but quickly regained herself. “No,” she said firmly.

“Oof. Rejected just like that? My poor, non-existent heart,” Sans said, dramatically putting a hand to his chest while pocketing the device. “My turn to reject you, then. You can’t have my phone.” 

“Sans,” Frisk began frustratedly. “This isn’t some kind of moronic joke. Monsters are dying . Your brother was nearly one of them.”

“That’s exactly why I want in,” Sans shot back evenly, leaning back against the wall. “This isn’t exactly what I wanted, y’know. All that sweat and blood and tears shed, just to come to a world that doesn’t want us there. I know I’m lazy, but when I want something, I’m willing to put in the effort. ’N I don’t wanna see the one thing I put so much effort into crumble away in front of me. You feel me?”

Frisk was quiet. 

“And uh. I won’t be dead weight on ya. ’M smart, I know my way around the streets, and I know how to fight.”

Frisk spat out a laugh. “ You know how to fight? That’s got to be the funniest thing I’ve heard all damn day.”

“There are a loootta things you don’t know about me, kiddo. I’m a skeleton of mystery.” Sans pushed himself off, and walked down a few steps until he was eye-level with her. He held out a hand. “So? Whaddya say? Partners?”

Frisk stared at the hand, then stared at Sans. He merely raised an eyebrow, as if daring her to take it. 

There it was again with that conflicted expression. Maybe it was because they had spent 5 years apart, but she was a lot harder to read now. Eventually, though, her face stilled to reflect one emotion he could definitely read- determination.

“... Fine,” she grumbled, snatching his hand.

Fffbbttt.

Gah! ” Frisk yanked her hand free as Sans began laughing. “You are so immature.” 

“Perhaps I am.” Sans’ laughter died down, and he grinned at her, his smile mischievous and calculating and guarded all at the same time. "This’ll be fun, kid.”

Chapter 2: in which two mysteries are introduced

Summary:

... and only one is partially solved.

Notes:

hello hello! i finished writing this last night and i'm honestly really proud of it. frisk and san's dynamic is (i hope) is realistic and characterized well, plus i think it's fun? i love us some cheeky banter :]

chapter three is already in the works, expect something either tomorrow or soon ~

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

After that, Frisk and Sans returned home.

It was hard for Sans to fall asleep that night. Not only because Papyrus was snoring at an absurdly loud volume. Sans' thoughts were also being pretty loud, too. Reliving that horrible moment when he saw Papyrus’ slack body. Thoughts of those other unknown monsters, being found far too late. 

Sans had definitely never been the heroic type. He’d been far more content to let someone else do all the heroing- there was a reason why, despite being qualified to join the Royal Guard, he didn’t. And yet, here he was. Actively stepping in the role of a ‘hero’.

Eventually, sleep found him. He was abruptly awoke to the sound of his phone pinging. Multiple times.

Groaning and rolling over his bed, he reached for his phone laying on the ground. It was a text from Frisk. They had exchanged numbers before parting ways, and she had been texting him nonstop.

 

kid

Are you up

get up

I want to see whats on your phone

Sans??? hello??? 

ITS LITERALLY 10 ISNT THE STORE SUPPOSED TO BE OPEN

 

He stared at his phone, then glanced up at his clock, which was cheerfully blinking a red 10:03.

“Aw, c’mon,” he groaned, then proceeded to fall off his bed.He didn't even bother changing out of his pajamas (red with bones stitched on them, a gift from Papyrus), just threw on his puffy jacket and teleported inside The Greatest General Store Ever!! .

He opened up before texting Frisk back.

 

wym it is open

It wasn’t opened when i checked. 

u shud probs check again idk smths wrong w ur eyes

maybe its cuz u kept them closed too long

gonna pretend I didnt read that

Didn’t you set your alarm clock?

 

Sans hadn’t set his alarm because he forgot Papyrus was at Toriel’s, and therefore couldn’t do his shift, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Frisk.

 

yea. didnt go off for some reason

i think its tocked off at me

Ticked*

man you missed my hilarious joke

ticked, TOCKED, alarm clock? get it?

 

Frisk didn’t respond for several minutes. When she did, her reply made Sans laugh out loud.

 

You’re the worst.

I’m coming over to your shop rn, I need to see whats on that phone

admit that u laughed first

I can’t believe im working w you

 

5 minutes later, Frisk came in, wearing the same scarf and a disgruntled expression on her face. 

“Hand it over,” she said, immediately coming over to the counter.

“You know,” Sans said, not looking up from his phone and casually scrolling through nothing just to annoy her, “on the Surface, typically one greets the other with a hello . It’s a custom ’round these parts. You heard of it?”

Sans.

“’S called being polite .”

Frisk sighed aggressively. “Fine, Sans. Hello . Can I see your phone now?”

“Uh, uh, uh. Can’t’cha see I’m a bit busy at work?” Sans gestured around the very much empty store. “So many customers to attend to, ’n all. Come back around at lunch or something.”

Frisk was fuming, and that was kinda funny. But, since he didn’t really want to deal with the fallout, he relented, finally meeting her gaze. “Kaycee M. That’s all I got.”

Frisk’s eyebrows furrowed. “Was that the name of the person who ordered?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Kaycee… care to spell that for me?” Sans did. “Huh. I don’t recognize that name. Do you?”

Sans shook his head. “I don’t know many humans personally. Thought you might.”

“Well, I don’t.” Frisk adjusted her scarf thoughtfully. “I’ll look into it, though. She bought stuff from you guys a lot, right? So she’s gotta be a local. I wish we could get into the police database. Would be so much easier.”

Sans thought uneasily of Undyne. “... Uh huh. Sure, kid.”

“Oh, yeah. One more thing.” Frisk leaned across the counter, brown eyes serious. “Are you free tonight?”

Sans paused, raising an eyebrow at her. “Why’re ya asking?”

Frisk narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not asking you out on a date, Sans-”

“Int’resting how you assumed I thought you were talking about a date.”

Frisk looked like she was about one nerve away from slapping him. “I am asking you ,” she said, in a very calm voice. “if you were free because I want to do some investigation at the house where Papyrus was kidnapped.”

That sobered Sans up fast. “Won’t the police already have strung that place up ’n barred it from regular folks like us?”

“I didn’t know you were such a goody goody. And besides.” Frisk raised both eyebrows at him. “They haven’t.”

That got Sans’ attention. “They haven’t?”

“Nope,” Frisk confirmed. "Or they haven't yet. That's why we gotta get over there as soon as we can, although preferably at night. It'll give us some coverage."

Sans tapped his bony fingers on the sticky counter. "Well, I'll probably be free after I close up. So around 6-ish good enough for ya?" 

"Yup. Sounds like a d- ahem. Sounds good," Frisk said, quickly correcting herself, but Sans had already caught her and gave her a shit-eating grin. 

"You probably wish it was a date, kid. I know I know, you can't get enough of me."

"I will see you later, " Frisk snapped, storming out of the door. Sans watched her go, chuckling.

"Excuse me? Sir?"

Sans turned back, starting. An annoyed old man stared back at him, a basket full of goods in his arm. 

"If you two are quite done with your chatter," he said, his voice feeble but very clearly miffed, "may I please pay for my bunion cream and fruit?"

"I- uh, sure pal. Sorry 'bout that." 

8 hours later, Sans was stepping out of his now-closed store, pulling out his phone to text Frisk. 

"Don't bother."

Sans nearly jumped out of his bones. "Woah. Way to scare a skeleton, bud."

"Apologies." Frisk didn't look very apologetic. In fact, Sans would say she looked a little smug. "Alright, take my hand."

Sans stared at her expectant hand. "Woah there. Hate to let you down a second time, but I wasn't kiddin' when I said this wasn't a-"

"Do you ever stop talking? Can I finish what I was about to say without you trampolining yourself to insanely wrong conclusions?" Frisk said exasperatedly. "I need you to teleport us directly into the house. 5612 Briars Street."

"You know I c-?"

"Of course I know you can teleport. How else would you have been able to get behind me so fast when I was with Papyrus?"

"Fair." Sans looked back down the street, and back at her quizzically. "So, uh… I understand the time crunch 'n all, but why teleportation? Isn't that overkill? It's not that far of a walk." 

Frisk scratched her neck, then leaned in, lowering her voice. "... Something's not right. I can't put my finger on it, but my gut is telling me not to let anyone in that neighborhood know we're coming to visit. Maybe we'll get jumped instead this time, or worse, or- I don't know? It just feels safer this way."

Sans shrugged. "Makes sense. We are  conducting some secret crime-solving shenanigans. Might as well be discreet."

"Finally, you're making sense." Frisk held up her hand again. "So. Let's go?"

"As you wish." 

Sans slid his hand into Frisk's, keeping a light grip as he focused on his magic. He'd have to expend more than usual, teleporting more than usual. His eyes flashed blue, and the world around them sucked away and re-emerged as a living room. 

Frisk stumbled, her fingers jerking in his grip as she staggered forward a few steps. 

"Easy, kiddo." Sans pulled her back, steadying her. "First time teleportin'?"

Frisk nodded, looking a little nauseous. 

"The dizziness'll fade. Try to hold your puke, though. I don't wanna be on clean up duty ." 

"So kind of you," Frisk muttered, but she straightened. 

"So, uh… are we lookin' fer something specific?" Because Sans didn't really see anything. The furniture was hidden under white cloth, covered in dust.

Normal dust, Sans reminded himself firmly, looking around while suppressing a shudder. Not monster dust. Just lint. Nothing more. 

"Anything that sticks out, really," Frisk replied. "Did you look at the articles I sent you earlier?"

The ones that she'd sent him at 1 in the morning? "Uhh, I skimmed through 'em?"

"Good enough. We're just looking for anything that might trace the attackers. Spilled blood, maybe a fingerprint, or any dropped items…" 

They both scoured the entire floor. Needless to say, they did not find any spilled blood, or fingerprints, or any items. 

"Maybe that's why the police didn't bother wrapping the place up 'n their hazard tape," Sans muttered. "This place is emptier than me 'n Paps' old place Underground when he held a Making Friends With The Great Papyrus party that one time."

"Now I'm nauseous and depressed," Frisk said dryly, pausing from taking pictures of the crime scene. "They're very efficient killers, hm? Experienced too. This'll be helpful."

"... What'll be helpful?" Sans glanced around for the 10th time, like looking again would make something appear. 

"You really did skim through the docs, huh." Frisk tapped her phone. "This was more of a double-check than anything. From what I've read in previous cases, there was also zero evidence of anything ever happening. It was like the monster vanished into thin air." 

"I should really look over those articles again, huh."

"You probaby should," Frisk agreed, pocketing her phone. 

Sans' mind was starting to buzz, caught up with a strange revelation. "'S odd, though. 'Cause the monster didn't vanish this time . "

Frisk gave him an odd look. "Well, yeah. Because we got there in time to-"

"Nah, nah, I meant… like, look around us, kiddo. A crime took place. You kicked the door down and nearly flattened me with it. I, uh… attacked you. It was all very flashy. It made a lot of noise. Maybe they wouldn't see the attackers, but… they definitely would've seen us, right?"

Frisk's eyes opened wide, her mouth parting. "Oh my god. You're a genius , Sans-"

"Don't make me blush, kiddo."

"-someone had to have seen! This is a very suburban neighborhood. Crimes are practically unheard of. Which would beg the question, why hadn't anyone reported it?" Frisk tapped her chin, her brow wrinkling. "Do you think it has anything to do with Kaycee M?"

"Maybe. It definitely has something to do with why the cops haven't come."

"Right. Right ." Frisk suddenly glanced up. "That would mean the whole neighborhood was in on it! Someone has to know who she is! Or maybe one of them is her!" 

"Who's trampolinin' to conclusions now?" But Sans couldn't help but feel a trickle of unease. "Well, there's definitely nothing left for us here now. Let's get outta here."

"'Kay." Frisk held out her hand, and Sans took it. In a brief flash of light blue, they ended up in a different living room. 

"Sans?" Frisk asked, letting go and looking around, confused. "Where'd you take us?" 

"Ah, whoops. Reflex." Sans went to go turn on the lights. "Welp. Welcome to my humble abode, kid."

Frisk raised both eyebrows, glancing around with newfound interest. "This is where you live ?" 

"Where'd ya think I lived?" Sans asked, shuffling over to the kitchen. 

"Oh, I don't know. A box under a bridge, something like that…" 

"I had a house 'n the Underground, didn't I?" Sans said indignantly. 

"... Yeah. I remember." Frisk sat down on the couch. "It looks… pretty much exactly like that house."

"Yeah, well. Can't mess with success, ya know? 'Nyways, I'm starving. You want something to eat, too?"

Frisked turned her gaze upstairs uneasily. "But, Papyrus…"

"He's still stayin' over at Tori's for the moment," Sans replied, opening the fridge and peering inside. "It's just us, kid. No one's gonna find about about ya. Relax. So, uh… How we feeling about frozen pizza?"

"I'm feeling hungry," Frisk called from the living room. There was a faint shuffling noise, then some scribbling noises. Sans stuck the pizza into the microwave and poked his out out the kitchen doorway.

"Where'd ya get the laptop 'n notepad from?"

"I always have them with me. I just gotta update my master doc." 

"What's on this 'master doc'?" Sans said curiously, padding over and peering over Frisk's shoulder, who swiveled the laptop in his direction. 

There were a huge collection of pictures from different cases- all of them looked very similar. There were timestamps, circumstances, officers leading investigation, you name it all meticulously recorded.

"This is some doc, kid," Sans murmured, leaning over and using the mousepad to scroll down. There even notes on Papyrus she had been typing up. 

"Thanks," Frisk said, sounding slightly gratified. "I've been trying to find correlations between time of murder, murder location, and what monster was murdered. Maybe then we could predict their next target…"

The microwave went off. Sans went back to the kitchen and returned with two plates of hot, gooey pizza.

"Bone appetit," he said, setting one down in front of her. "It ain't much, but 's better than nothing."

They ate their pizza in silence, Frisk occasionally writing something in her notepad and tapping her computer keys, Sans just watching. 

"Hey," Frisk said suddenly. Sans, who had been lying on the couch finally going through Frisk's articles, glanced up. "Undyne's in the police force?"

"Hmm? Uh yeah, she is."

"So she can access their databases on people? And other things?"

Sans didn't like where this was going. "Kid, we can't ask Undyne to do that for us." 

"What?" Frisk looked up from her laptop; Sans sat up. "Why not? Do you not trust her?"

He set his plate aside. "You really don't know what it was like for us after ya left, huh? Someone had to step up, kiddo. Humans have a way of being polite 'n hostile all at the same time. Undyne decided t'join the police force to try to cement whatever trust 'n peace was still left. For all the monsters still living in the city's sake. It took a while, but she finally got her badge… a year ago, I think? I just don't wanna risk her losin' it n' losin' everything she worked for, ya know? 'S not that I don't trust her- I know she'd wanna help. But I just can't, kid. I can't do that to her." 

Frisk stared at Sans a moment longer, then looked away, lips tight. "I didn't realize… me leaving would have had such an impact on everyone."

Sans rolled over, eyes serious for once. "Kid, you saved monsterkind. Yer practically a princess. But it's more 'n that… you're, uh- what's the word? Beloved ? I told ya. We needed you."

"You didn't need me that much," Frisk said softly, glancing back down at her computer screen, the blue light highlighting the bags under her eyes and the uncertainty in her gaze. "You were fine on your own."

"Maybe I was." Sans shrugged. "But even I missed seeing your goofy face around. You meant something t'all of us, a lot or a little." 

Frisk pursed her lips, that same odd conflicted look fluttering in her expression. "Well, if we can't have Undyne help us, then we'll have to dig up information ourselves," she said, swiftly changing the subject. Sans raised an eyebrow, but let her. "We should go around and ask the people around the neighborhood if they know anyone named Kaycee M. There's gotta be a reason why they were all gone that night."

"Well, the store's closed on Sundays, considering that's 'the day of rest'," Sans replied, getting ip w a slight groan. "And tomorrow's Sunday. We can go then?"

"Sounds good." Frisk closed her laptop and made to get up and pack everything up, but Sans stopped her. 

"Y'know, if you wanted to, you could spend the night here."

Frisk started. "I… sorry, come again? I thought you said this wasn't a date."

"I can afford to throw ya a bone or two, yeah?" Frisk pretended to gag. "'N it's only if you wanted to. If yer house was too far, or something. You do live in a house, right?"

"Of course I do!"

"Hey, can't blame a guy for checking. You look like a… er. What's a nicer way of sayin' 'trainwreck'?" 

Frisk rolled her eyes. "You're such an idiot." But she never answered her question. "Fine, I'll stay. It'll be more convenient, anyway. Where do you keep the pillows and blankets-?" 

"Nah, don't worry about it. I got ya." Sans went upstairs.  A few moments later, he turned with a pillow and a fuzzy black blanket with a pattern of dancing skeletons. 

"Thanks," Frisk said, taking the bundle and eyeing the blanket before looking back at Sans. "Is everything in your house skeleton-themed? I haven't even begun asking about what you're wearing."

Sans glanced down, realizing he was still in his pjs. He shrugged. "What can I say, 'M a trendsetter."

" Pffft , alright." She set her things down on the couch, then sat back down and opened her computer.

"You gonna go to sleep?" Sans asked, watching her.

"I will in a sec. Just gonna add some stuff."

"Aight. See ya in the morning then, kiddo."

"Niiight," Frisk frowned as Sans went back upstairs. 

 


 

Sans woke up in the middle of the night with the urge to pee. 

Yawning, he rolled out of bed and opened his bedroom door, shuffling down the stairs snd rubbing his eyes.

He blinked them open and looked to his right.

"... Kid. Yer still up?"

Frisk was still curled up in front of her laptop, typing furiously. She hadn't even appeared to have heard Sans. 

Cautiously, Sans approached her, taking a look at what she could possibly be so enraptured with. 

" papeysusurs locatison may havenhad soemthign to sio withs kayceem. maybe Kaycee what a frejdn of hus-"

"Okay, kiddo, that's enough. Stop." Sans put a hand on the laptop lid and closed it firmly. 

Frisk jumped as it shut, rubbing her eyes and glancing up as if just noticing Sans. "Wha- but- no, I… I can't sleep…"

"It's one in the morning."

"Can't sleep," she repeated, slurring her words a little even as her eyelids fluttered. "I'm… the ambassador… I have to… do my job…" 

Sans sighed, crouching down. "Look at ya. Yer dead on your feet. Go to sleep."

"Nnhooo, I… I can't fail you… again…" Frisk's head dropped, then it snapped back up again. 

Sans observed her for another minute, then decisively wrapped his arms around her. She muttered something half-heartedly, but let him lift her. She was surprisingly light, her limbs thim and bird-like. He rose, then carefully laid her down on the couch, pulling the blanket up and tucking her in. 

"You can worry 'bout  failing us tomorrow when yer well rested 'n awake, 'kay?" Sans ruffled her hair, repeating himself again, softer this time. "Go to sleep."

"... G'night, Sans."

"Good night, kid."

Notes:

kissing is cool and all, but tucking people in? thats some real, subtle meaningful romantic shit right there

if u liked!!! please kudos, comment, and share <3 love u all, zu

Chapter 3: in which sans is a terrible husband

Summary:

… and frisk is an amazing liar.

Notes:

>:)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The next morning, Sans awoke to Frisk making breakfast. Eggs (where'd she get eggs?) and bacon (where'd she get bacon??) were sizzling on a plate awaiting him in the dining room when he lumbered downstairs.

"Morning, Sans," Frisk said from the kitchen, cracking eggs onto a skillet. "Your food's on the table." 

"Wow. Uh. Thanks, kiddo. Ya didn't have to." Sans eased himself into a chair, digging in almost immediately. 

"It seemed only fair. You provide dinner, I provide breakfast." A minute later, Frisk appeared with a plate of food and sat across from him, spearing a curl of bacon and shoving it in her mouth. "Alright. We need a cover story."

Sans glanced up, mouth full of eggs. "A hwah?" he asked around his mouthful. 

Frisk rolled her eyes. "A cover story ," she echoed. "We can hardly go around interrogating civilians. They'll get suspicious, or worse, we'll attract police attention. And I- well. I still don't want people to know the Ambassador is back, no matter how temporarily. So we'll need a good excuse to go talk to them." 

Sans wiped his mouth using his sleeve. "We could pretend to be officers?"

"We could, but then their guard would definitely be on. And I highly doubt we'd be able to get away with impersonating an officer so easily. It would be best to approach them as equals." Frisk chewed frustratedly. "There's got to be a way."

Frisk was still mulling it over when she briefly left Sans' house to go back to hers to go change. She came bursting back, wearing a crisp white dress that hugged her knees and a strand of pearls around her neck, a black coat wrapped around her arm. Her hair, which was once messy, lay smooth and flat.

" Sans! " she yelled, eyes dancing madly with excitement. "I have an idea!" 

Sans glanced up from the couch, then did a double take. "Uh. What's going on? What're you wearing ?" 

"I'll explain it to you on the way there. Do you have anything nice you can wear?"

"What?"

"For god's sake," Frisk exclaimed, before running up to his room. Curious, Sans slid off the couch and trudged after her. 

He reached his room doorway to find Frisk tearing apart his closet. "Kid, let me do that."

" What is this ?" Frisk shrieked, gesturing towards the piles of clothes scattered in his closet.

"Those are clothes, kiddo." 

"Oh m-   I know they’re clothes. I’m asking what they’re doing on the floor when you have hangers . And shelves. "

"'M a simple skeleton. I don't need those complicated contraptions. I know which pile has what. 'S why I said I should do it." 

Sans sidestepped a wildly incredulous Frisk and began digging through his clothes. "Uh, so you said somethin' about wearing nice clothes?"

Frisk stepped back, gathering herself. "Yeah. You need to look presentable and respectable because-"

"'Scuse you, I always look presentable-"

"-be cause ," Frisk continued, determinedly ignoring him, "you and I are going to be pretending to be interested in buying a house on Briars."

Sans re-emerged with a handful of clothes. "Buying a house?" 

"Yup. I did a background check on the address- 5612 Briars Street- and it turns out that that house is technically supposed to be for sale. So we, the happy couple, are looking to buy it." Frisk took on an overly sappy, syrupy voice. "We've been married for a little over two years, and we're head over heels for each other. Unfortunately, the old house we lived in had a terrible termite infestation, so now we're looking to buy a new home for ourselves. We're also very neighborly and social."

"I always thought myself good at improv." Sans winked at her. "Try to keep up." 

Frisk folded her arms, raising a brow in challenge. "Try not to fall in love with me for real." 

Sans let out a booming laugh, and Frisk's lip twitched. "You're funny, kid. Now get outta here, I gotta change." 

Frisk left, and Sans threw on the singular formal outfit he had; a dark blue blazer, one of those fancy white button up shirts, black slacks, and a patterned blue tie, which hung loosely around his collarbone. 

Frisk was waiting downstairs, tapping her foot impatiently; when she saw him, she blinked, and then grinned. "And here I was beginning to think you didn't own a single formal item of clothing." 

"I didn't. I only bought this for Undyne's fancy badge ceremony thing." Sans straightened his blazer and opened the front door, bowing dramatically. "Fake wives first."

Frisk rolled her eyes and exited. Sans followed, closing the door and locking it. 

"So, what's the game plan? Knockin' on their doorsteps 'n harassing them until they fess up 'n give us answers?"

Frisk snorted. "If only life worked that way. No, I saw some of the women gathered together on one of their driveways when I was walking home. They didn't see me, but I definitely saw them. We'll stop by and casually say hello. Let me do the talking to begin with."

"So I just stand there 'n do nothing?" Frisk opened her mouth to protest, but Sans cut her off, grinning. "Awesome. Love doin' nothing."

She rolled her eyes. "You are the laziest skeleton I've ever had the misfortune to meet."

"Really? Then I think you need to meet more skeletons, tibia honest."

Frisk shuddered. "Horrible."

"Horrible? My puns are always humerus ."

Frisk nearly sent Sans flying into a bush with the strength of her shove.

They turned, approaching Briars Street. Sure enough, the women Frisk had mentioned were sitting around on the driveway, deep in discussion. However, one of their eyes drifted to Frisk and Sans, and they stared. The others paused too, glancing over to see what the other was looking at, and then all three women were staring at them. 

Sans lifted a hand and gave them a little wave. Frisk took this all in stride, casually looping her arm through Sans'. Her arm was stiff, and was trembling slightly. It took all of Sans' control not to glance at her to check if she was okay. "Oh! Um, hello! We weren't expecting anyone to be around."

"Who're you?" one of them said. She crossed her legs, looking them up and down. "You don't look like you're from around here." 

Frisk laughed, light and airy. "You're correct. We actually live a little farther down. But we were just taking a look around the neighborhood since one of these houses is for sale…"

"Ohhh," another one said, recognition lighting her eyes. "You mean the yellow one across the street?"

"Yes, the quaint little one. My husband and I just wanted to check out the neighborhood."

"Husband?" The woman who spoke first stood, and walked up to them, arms folded, expression neutral. "You're married?"

"Y-"

"Yes, we are," Sans interrupted, answering first. Frisk shot him a strange look. He stared right back at the woman, keeping his expression still and his voice calm. Immediately, he could tell what kind of a human this woman was- the kind that didn't like monsters.

His eyes roamed to the other women. It was safe to say they- and probably everyone else in the neighborhood- were at the very least unhappy with the emergence of monsters into human society. His arm tightened around Frisk. This felt like walking into a trap. 

"I believe I was talking to your wife," the woman said, raising an eyebrow. "Are you trying to talk over her?" 

"Not at all," Sans said mildly. "I was just answering your question."

"I didn't think monsters even knew how to speak in human languages," the woman said, laughing, but her eyes were cold, and her tone was without humor. "How can you talk? You're a skeleton. You don't have a voice box or a brain to form complex speech and thought."

Sans laughed too, softly. "I guess it's another one of the many things beyond human understanding." 

"Now, now, there's no need to be rude!" Frisk said, putting a hand to Sans' shoulder, tittering the way a wife worried about first impressions would be. Her fingers dug into his shoulder, very clearly asking him what the hell are you doing? 

He wasn't sure what he was doing, only that this woman was annoying and he didn't like talking to her. "My bad, k… honey ."

For a moment, Frisk looked like she was physically holding back vomit.

“Hmm. How sweet,” The woman said, looking vaguely disgusted. “Well. My name’s Elizabeth; those two are Abby and Zoe. Welcome to the neighborhood.” 

The women mentioned, Abby and Zoe, had also made their way down, shooting each other looks before introducing each other. 

“It would be so nice if you two moved in,” Zoe said, smiling at them both encouragingly. “That lot has been empty for years. It'll be good to have a whole neighborhood again!”

“Years?” Frisk said curiously. “Is that so? I wonder why; it’s an awfully affordable property, and in a good location.”

Abby fluttered. “Yes, well. There’s some, er… history with the 5612.” 

“History, eh?” Sans remarked, and Sans could have sworn Abby flinched.

“It’s nothing,” Elizabeth said airily, waving a hand; her eyes flicked over to Sans. “It’s just that the last owners of the house happened to be melodramatic monsters .”

Frisk looked momentarily confused. “So… did something happen to them?” 

“Well, not exactly?” Zoe fidgeted, glancing over apologetically at Sans. “It was more like-”

“They thought they weren’t wanted,” Elizabeth cut in. “They made a huge deal out of it. Something about injustice? Prejudice? Monster accents are so hard to understand. So, the rest of the neighborhood got tired of their whining and we said, ‘we don’t want you here anymore’, and they threw a big hissy fit and left. No one’s touched their house since. I mean, who knows what kinds of horrors they left behind there?”

Elizabeth laughed again, and Sans was suddenly very glad that he physically could not do anything but smile. Frisk’s seemed to be strained and slipping.

“But I’m sure your husband here isn’t anything like them,” Zoe piped in, peering at Sans. 

“Yup, that’s me,” Sans replied, raising a hand, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Just your everyday average skeleton who doesn’t care at all about injustice or prejudice.” 

 " Haha, you’re just hilarious ,” Frisk gritted out, her grip on Sans tightening. “Why don't you head home, darling ? I think Poppy'll be needing someone to feed her about now. I’ll be right behind you."

Sans had no idea who in the hell Poppy was, or why Frisk was sending him away, but he trusted her judgment. 

"'Right. Of course. I'll uh… tell Poppy you said hi."

"Okay, bye- oh! Hang on, you also need to go pick up more food for Poppy, speaking of. I'll text you the brand she likes, she's very specific."

"'Kay." Sans carefully freed his arm from Frisk's. "I'll see you later then."

He had already turned the corner when his phone got a notification. Sans opened it, confused. Had Frisk really gone all-out with the acting that she was seriously texting him about Poppy's food?

 

kid

im sorry I dragged you into this

Let me handle this alone 

ill meet you back at your house?

 

Sans sighed, staring at his phone screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. It's not your fault , he wanted to say. I picked a fight first .

He felt… kinda bad. Not for snapping at the woman- given the nonsense she'd said, honestly she deserved worse. No, he felt bad for leaving Frisk with her. 

He thought back to a few years ago, when Frisk was still actively acting as the Ambassador to monsterkind. How Frisk could command the room, even when she was younger. There was just something about her- when she looked directly at you with eyes full of determined fire, or the way her lip curled upwards whenever someone she was arguing with said something ignorant- that you couldn’t look away from. 

Sans wasn’t really like that. Where Frisk shone, Sans preferred to just sit back and observe. He didn’t have a presence about him, and he didn’t like to talk very much. So it was probably best if he hung back. Let the kid do her thing.

“So? Whaddya say? Partners?”

Sans didn't know much about working with others, but a partner wouldn't abandon the other like this, would they? They wouldn't run away. And this felt a lot like running away. 

He could still very faintly hear the women talking together. 

Sans couldn't say what compelled him to go back. Responsibility? Friendship? Pity? Whatever it is, it made him teleport back to the house next to the woman's, ducking behind a nearby hedge. He could hear them louder now, quiet and soothing. 

And Frisk, who was-

"-I'm just so miserable," Frisk was sobbing into her hands. Sans stilled. "H-he never listens to me, and I swear, he hates it wh-when I touch him- wh-what if he's seeing another s-skeleton?" 

Kid, you cold-blooded liar , Sans marveled. Not only had she picked up on the women's dislike of monsters, but she was playing it to her advantage. She hadn’t needed his help after all.

"This is why we never trust monsters," Elizabeth tutted, clearly attempting to sound maternal. Sans felt something sour rise in his throat. "I mean, they're called monsters for a reason." 

"You should file for divorce," Zoe urged.

Abby nodded fiercely. “You absolutely should! Why are you still with that horrible monster?”

“W-well, It’s j-j- it’s complicated,” Frisk blubbered, wiping her nose noisily. “I mean, we’ve b-been together so long, and… I feel l-lost without him…”

“Has he done anything else to you?” Elizabeth demanded.

Frisk sniffed. “It’s more like what he hasn’t done. He’s just been so distant lately. Never answers my calls the first time, and he’s out late. I can’t even get mad at him, because he’s not there for me to get mad at. Everytime I bring it up, he just b-brushes it aside like it’s no big deal. Like I’m the one who’s crazy. I feel like I’m just there with him. Like I don’t-”

Frisk paused. 

“Yes?” Elizabeth prompted.

“-... ahem. Like I don’t matter.” Frisk’s voice had changed subtly; she was quieter, more raw. The fake stuttering had been dropped completely. Sans felt himself unconsciously stepping closer to hear. “He’s moving on, you know? What I… used to… provide for him, he doesn’t need it anymore. He doesn’t need me anymore. I don’t even know why he keeps me around, if all I do is take up space. I don’t know why I stay, if I’m that useless. Whatever we had is gone now. And it’s not like I want to go back - if he’s happier without it, and if he’s happier without me, then… then that’s the way it goes, right? But I just- I don’t know who I am without them.”

“Your husband?” Abby said gently.

Frisk started. “Yes. Right. Him.”

“You need to divorce him now ,” Elizabeth cut in firmly. “He’s no good for you, and you are way too good for him.”

Frisk wrapped her arms around herself. "That's what I was thinking… It's why I was looking to buy a new house, get my own property. But… other than him, I hardly know anyone here. And I hear crime against monsters is… b-b-bad. What if someone attacks me because I was m-married to one?"

Elizabeth’s face softened. “Oh, hon,” she soothed. "That won't happen. You were taken advantage of. No one in their right mind would hurt you because you were manipulated by their kind.”

“B-but,” Frisk stuttered, and the light in her eyes flickering, changing from vulnerable to calculating in an instant. “What if the monsters get mad at me for leaving my husband? Wasn’t there a monster just… just walking around nearby? I think I saw him skulking around here two days ago.” 

Zoe looked alarmed. “ What ? What did he look like?”

“Thank the heavens we were away at the Xienthyst party,” Abby breathed, putting a hand to her heart. “I’ll have to install new security just to be safe, though.”

"The what?" For a moment, Frisk's blubber and stutter abruptly ended, her voice as sharp and precise as Sans knew it to be.

"The Xienthyst recruitment parties! You know, the Xienthyst church? We're all members there. You know, the one a couple miles down? About every month, they throw this big event to woe sponsors and new members. It’s always so much fun, and you always leave feeling more spiritually connected to yourself and the world around you.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Frisk said thoughtfully. Then she turned to look at the other women. “So you all went? How lucky.”

“Nah, it wasn’t luck. We managed to convince the entire neighborhood to come to the party! There are prizes at the church for how many people you manage to recruit,” Elizabeth said proudly.

“I see,” Frisk replied evenly. “So it was your idea to invite the whole neighborhood to these fun parties?”

“Actually,” Elizabeth confessed, leaning in as if telling Frisk some kind of troubling secret, “It wasn’t my idea. It was my husband, Alfred’s. He’s got such heart and compassion when it comes to Xienthysm. Religious men are just so much better.” 

Frisk let out a little laugh at that. “Perhaps they are. Certainly better than monsters, am I right?”

All three of them laughed. 

“Well, this has been eye-opening, and very delightful,” Frisk sighed. “But I think I should go now. Have to… check up on Poppy. And my hopefully soon-to-be ex-husband.”

All four women exchanged their goodbyes.

“Good luck!”

“Let us know how settlement goes; my sister’s a lawyer if you need any help!”

“Maybe we’ll see you at the next recruitment party! It’s April 4th, starting at 5pm!”

Frisk waved, hurrying down the sidewalk and turning. Silently, Sans teleported behind her, following her as she walked down the street. She pulled out her phone, checking her messages.

“Why hasn’t he responded back?” she muttered, typing. “I hope he hasn’t done something stupid.”

“Wow, kid,” he said, and Frisk jumped up with a little scream, whirling around. “Do I really look like someone who has the time and energy to think, plan, and execute something stupid?”

Jesus , Sans!” Frisk yelped, putting a hand to her racing heart. “How- I thought- why are you here?”

“Oh, well, y’know,” Sans began, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “’S a long walk home.”

“You could have teleported.” Frisk squinted at him. “Wait. Were you worried about me?”

“Don’t make it weird, kid.” 

“Aww, Sans. That’s kind of sweet.”

Sans shrugged. “You didn’t need me, anyways. I saw you out there. That was some uh, impressive acting.”

There was a faint undercurrent of suspicion under his casual tone- he seemed to be implying a question without asking it.

“Ah, well. It helped that they were already pretty stupid to begin with.” Frisk smiled at him; then her smile fell. “I’m… really sorry about what she said.”

Sans shrugged again. “S’okay. Ignorance looks bad on her, not on us. I didn’t mind.”

“I think you did. Just a little.” Frisk stared at him a moment longer, then looked down. “I feel like I failed my duty.”

“Kid. C’mon.” 

“As the Ambassador-”

“-ya can’t control what everybody thinks,” Sans interjected, gaze serious. “There’ll always be those stick-in-the-mud type people. You can’t help it. What you’ve done as Ambassador is already incredible on its own. Don’t beat yerself up just ’cause a few dunderheads wanna be dunderheads.” 

“Maybe.” Frisk still sounded doubtful and a little sad. Sans decided it was high time to change the subject.

“So. Uh. Alfred was his name, yeah?”

Frisk straightened, nodding, her tone taking a more professional manner. They began walking down the street. “Yes. I wish we had a last name, but… it’s something. I think it’s highly unlikely Elizabeth, Abby, Zoe, or anyone in that neighborhood had anything to do with Papyrus being attacked. There’s also a chance Alfred had nothing to do with it and really just wanted a prize from that church place or whatever. That being said…”

“It would be a pretty huge coincidence,” Sans agreed. “If that Alfred feller really is involved, ’n it’s safe to say this whole Xienthyst church is involved, too.” 

“You really were listening to the whole thing, huh,” she noted.

“Yuuup. I even got it on tape.”

Frisk’s eyes lit up. “ Really ?”

Sans pulled out his phone and waved it in the air for a bit, grinning. “’S what we call evidence , yeah? If there really is a connection, this’ll be helpful in a court of law.”

“Oh my god! You really are a genius!” Frisk held up her hand. Sans pocketed the phone before reaching up to slap it. They both laughed. 

“Well, now we know whoever Kaycee M. is, she wasn’t working alone,” she said. “I just wish there was a way we could figure out who she is…” 

“I don’t think catching her on tape will be as easy,” Sans agreed, joking, then he froze.

“Sans?” Frisk stopped walking, looking at him.

“The CCTVs. Of course.” Sans grabbed Frisk’s arm. “Hold on tight, kiddo.”

His eye flared blue, and he teleported them into The Greatest General Store Ever!! .

Frisk put her hands to her stomach, looking a little dizzy as Sans immediately when for the backroom door, fishing out his keys and unlocking it. Urgently, he motioned for Frisk to follow.

“What’re you doing?” Frisk asked, watching him boot up the computer.

“So, y’know how I said in order to request deliveries, ya gotta be a patron?”

“Uh huh.”

“Like I said, you hafta be a customer for a certain period of time ’n buy certain items. Specifically, 3. And so far, we’ve only had a total of 3 requested deliveries. You feeling me, kiddo?”

Frisk’s eyes widened, and in a flash, she was at his side, bending over to peer at the computer. “We’re going to go through store footage to see who bought what.”

“Bingo.” Sans began scrolling back through the video. “Awesome thing is, you can’t request deliveries on different accounts, because the receipts only work once. So the people who requested before can’t be suspects. See? Look.” Sans pointed at the paused screen. “I know this guy. Name’s Jeremy. Good dude. He was the first guy to request delivery. Asked us for a box of donuts and some toothpaste. ’S not him. And her…”

He clicked on a different video and fast-forwarded. “Pat. Nice girl. She wanted to buy a cake for her mom’s birthday.”

“That eliminates 2 out of the hundreds of people who come into your store, Sans.”

“Nah. ’S not all.” Sans went to find a different video. “Ya see, Paps wanted to up the difficulty of getting a requested delivery. Those 3 special items? They change every month or so. If any customer bought some other 3 items from before ’n tried to request, it wouldn’t work. So that means we got a time period. We narrow down the customers.” 

They began slowly watching through all the videos. About 5 hours later, they had 4 suspects. 

“I know two of ’em, I think,” Sans said to the computer, narrowing his eyes. “I think… that’s Monster Kid? ’N the other is Kooky Lindsey.”

“Why is she kooky?”

Sans shrugged. “I have no idea. You’d have to ask her.” 

“Okay so, Monster Kid, Kooky Lindsey? An older woman, and…” 

Frisk gasped.

“What?”

“Look,” Frisk said in a hushed tone, pointing at their last suspect. 

The camera was planted just above the door, viewing nearly the entire store. The suspect, a tall man, had approached the counter and was completing his purchase.

“That guy is a cop , Sans.”

“No way.” Sans realized Frisk was right. He was wearing that typical police officer black uniform, and Sans could see the shine of the badge as the man turned and walked out of the store.

“It… it can’t have been a cop, right?” Frisk stared at the computer screen. “That’s ridiculous.” 

Sans didn’t say anything,staring grimly at the computer screen. 

“Well, either way, he’s a suspect,” Frisk said slowly, pulling out her notepad and writing them down. "Take a picture of all their faces so we have it on the record, and send them to me later. I’ll add them on my master doc.”

“Sure.” He snapped photos of his computer screen of all the suspect’s faces. They were pixelated and grainy, but it was better than nothing. 

“We need to identify the older woman and the cop. Should we go to the police station? Ask around?”

“No. That’d be way too suspicious.” Sans thought for a moment, then sighed. “... There’s an easier way.”

“What?”

“I could…” Sans paused, then said unhappily, “... I could ask Undyne.”

Sans. Yes! We should ask her if she recognizes him.” Seeing San’s expression, Frisk added, “Don’t worry. We’re not involving her in any of this. We’re just asking if she recognizes a colleague’s face. Who knows? Maybe this guy is Kaycee M.! He could be working with Alfred! He might’ve been the one who jumped Papyrus! Sans, we have to know for sure.”

Sans thought about it, then nodded reluctantly, seeing Frisk’s point. He clicked on Undyne, and began typing her a message.

 

yo 

random question

do u recognize this guy

sent attachment 

 

Sans had barely set down his phone when it pinged. Frisk yelled so loudly Sans dropped his phone.

Oh my god! Oh my god, she responded! Sans, read it!

“Relax, kiddo, I am! Jeez !” Sans yelled back, opening up his phone.

 

undieieieie

OH YEAH I KNOW HIM

WHAT BUSINESS DO YOU HAVE WITH THAT PUNK?

can u tell me who he is please

HE’S THE RESIDENTIAL LOSER

thought that was me 

 

“Sans, are you kidding me,” Frisk began, but Undyne texted back.

 

ALRED IS DEFINITELY MORE LOSERER THAN YOU.

 

Frisk and Sans stared at the text bubble.

“Alfred,” Frisk repeated, blinking. “Like. Elizabeth’s Alfred?”

“That seems like way too big a coincidence for it not to be,” Sans said.

Frisk let out an uncertain breath. “Well, it’s not exactly a confirmation-”

“-but it’s the closest thing to it.” Sans put away his phone and shut down the computer. They were enclosed in a sudden darkness.

“He’s a cop. He’s going to be surrounded by cops pretty much at all times. And I’m not close enough with Elizabeth that I can just barge into her home and question her husband.” Frisk gnawed on a nail. “How’re we gonna get him alone?”

“April 4th, remember?”

Frisk looked up. Sans folded his arms, his eye flickering with power.

“We got a party to attend.”

Notes:

monster racism, bro
it do be real

Chapter 4: in which dinner is served

Summary:

... and bittersweet memories are recalled.

Notes:

this was a doozy. 23 pages.

THANK U ALL FOR UR SWEET COMMENTS BTW MWAH MWAH

11/18/23: THIS CHAPTER HAS SINCE BEEN REVISED !! my brother has brought it to my attention that sans is too much of a "therapist" in a certain scene, so i ended up rewriting it a while back and forgot to edit that change here. it's there! <3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

6 days later, Toriel announced Papyrus was fit to leave her care.

“That’s awesome, Tori,” Sans said, sitting on the couch in Toriel’s living room. Sans glanced over at Papyrus, who was sitting next to him. Papyrus noticed Sans staring, and gave him a goofy smile. Sans smiled back, and that same thunderous relief he felt when Papyrus first awoke came rushing back. 

“Yes, well, it was no big deal,” Toriel said, waving a paw and looking pleased.

“How you been, buddy?” Sans asked Papyrus. “Sorry I haven’t been visiting a lot, I’ve been, uh. Preoccupied.”

“That’s okay, Sans! The duties of maintaining our great store never end! I only wish I could have been there to ease your burden.”  Papyrus stood up suddenly, striking a magnificent pose. “Ahem! But now I, The Great Papyrus , have fully recovered and am able to once again assist my brother in his many responsibilities to the public!”

“You really have fully recovered.” Sans grinned.

Papyrus shot Sans a smug look, and then his eyes suddenly lit up with a childish light. “I’ve had so much fun at Queen Toriel’s, Sans! When I was able to move, I helped her with her royal garden . She even allowed me to water her tulips! And then, we attempted to bake. A pie . Oooh, and then I helped Queen Toriel out with her laundry. She was very impressed with the precision of my folds!”

“Was she now? Good for you, bro.”

“Let me show you!” Leaping around excitedly, he dashed around the house.

“I didn’t mean to make him run chores with me around the house,” Toriel said hurriedly. “He just seemed so eager to help me, so I thought…”

“Nah, don’t sweat it, Tori. ’M glad he was doing something other than just bumming around.” Sans watched him go, then turned to Toriel with a weighted look. “Honestly, ’m more worried about you .”

“Me?”  Toriel tilted her head. “Don’t be silly, Sans. I wasn’t the one who was hurt.”

“I dunno, Tori. Gardenin’? Baking pies? Laundry? Sounds an awful like the stuff you used to do with the kid.” 

Toriel started, her face paling. “Sans… that’s not what’s happening.”

“Isn’t it? Ya can’t tell me it doesn’t feel good t’be caring for someone again. ’S your nature.” Toriel didn’t respond, folding her hands in her lap and staring at her intertwined paws blankly. “’M being serious, Tor. I just don’t want a relapse when we leave.” 

“That’s not going to happen,” Toriel said forcefully, looking back up and attempting to smile; what came out was a weakened, watery version. “I’ve… accepted that she’s not coming back. It’s different now.”

Sans felt a little something skitter over his skin. Felt a lot like guilt. He thought ruefully of Frisk, whose number he had saved on his phone. Frisk, whom he had just been speaking to the other day. Frisk, who Toriel still didn’t know came back. 

Toriel had been a right mess when Frisk had first left. No notice, no nothing. Not even a trace. They weren’t even sure if Frisk was alive . Toriel was beside herself. And when the panic finally dialed down, there was almost nothing left of Toriel Dreemurr. It was as if she’d been dusted from the inside out. All life had been sucked out of her. 

Now, Sans was used to keeping secrets. He was a very secretive skeleton. He kept his position as Royal Judge, assistant to Asgore, and the true nature of his power from everyone. 

But, somehow… it didn’t feel right keeping Frisk from her.

“Whatever ya say, Tori.” Sans eyed her skeptically. “Well, anyhoo, I still wanna thank ya fer taking care of Paps. So whaddaya say? Dinner at our place?”

“I-”

“’N don’t worry. I’ll do the cooking. Would be a bad ‘thank you’ to ya if you got food poisoning.”

Toriel laughed a little at that. “No, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“So, how ’bout later today? It’s Saturday, ain’t it?  The elementary school’s out on the weekends, so it won’t conflict with yer working sched. We’ll see ya at around, uh- 6:30. I should have the food done by then.”

Toriel hesitated, then eventually nodded, her eyes warming. “... That would be lovely, Sans. Thank you.”

“’S not a problem, Tori. 

She nodded, her eyes watering. 

“Aw, Tor. Don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it. I owe you so much, Sans. You helped me put my life back together.” Toriel blinked rapidly, and gave Sans such a grateful smile that it made skittering guilt dig its claws into his stomach. “I truly am indebted to you.”

“Aw shucks, Tori. ’M no hero. Yer one of my oldest friends. Gotta look out of each other, yeah?”

“SANS! BEHOLD!”

Just then, Papyrus had come sprinting into the living room at full speed, a stack of neatly folded clothes sitting between his bony arms. Sans and Toriel clapped. 

They lingered in Toriel’s house a little longer, chatting about inconsequential things, before Sans and Papyrus headed home. Toriel had insisted they bring along her butterscotch pie. They were nearly home when Papyrus said suddenly-

“I hope you have not left the house in a complete disaster while I was away!” 

“Whaaat? C’mon, Paps. You know me. I am the picture of cleanliness.” Sans put on an unconvincingly innocent look.

“Hm.” Papyrus was unconvinced. “We shall see, brother. We shall see. What have you been doing these past couple of days to relieve yourself of the boredom?”

“Well, y’know.” Trying to figure out who could have orchestrated this chain of monster killings that you were involved in. “... just went out.”

“With who?”

“Uhh.” Frisk . “Nobody?”

“SANS!”

“That’s my name.”

“I SHALL MAKE IT MY NEXT MISSION TO GET YOU SOME MORE FRIENDS!”

“Naw. ’M good. Thanks anyways though, bro.” Sans’ phone pinged. “One sec.”

 

kid

Where are you?

going home. y 

didnt you say you wanted to research the xienthyst church with me? The door is locked

 

“Uh oh,” Sans said aloud.

“What?” Papyrus asked.

Uh oh indeed. 

 

kid im gonna need u to leave

like 

rn

Are you kidding?

Sans i know you’re busy but this is really important

You said you wanted in, remember

PAPS IS W ME

SHIT OK IM LEBVING

 

“Who are you texting?” Papyrus leaned over curiously.

Sans quickly shut off his phone and stuffed it in his pocket. “Er. No one. Don’t worry about it.”

Hmm ,” said Papyrus. Sans thought he could feel himself sweating under Papyrus’ scrutinizing gaze. 

Luckily, it seemed Frisk managed to get out of there by the time Sans and Papyrus arrived. Sans exhaled a breath of relief as he unlocked the door and let Papyrus in. 

“Aight, I gotta get to work,” Sans said, stretching and heading towards the kitchen. “I got about an hour ’n a half to whip up somethin’ good fer you guys.”

“WAIT!” Papyrus cried out, hovering by the door. “IF YOU ARE COOKING, WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH OUR STORE?”

“Huh? The shop? I closed it up for today.”

“WHAT!!! WHY!!!”

“’Cause I wanted to see you,” Sans replied, peering into the fridge. Nothing but containers of spaghetti and ketchup. He’d have to go for a grocery run. 

“W- WELL.” Papyrus didn’t know what to say for a second. “YOU’VE SEEN ME NOW, HAVEN’T YOU? WERE YOU NOT LISTENING TO WHAT I SAID ABOUT DISAPPOINTING THE PUBLIC? ABOUT RESPONSIBILITY ? UGH!! NEVER FEAR THOUGH, BROTHER. I WILL GO AND RUN THE STORE IN YOUR STEAD!”

No .” Sans jerked his head out of the fridge so fast he hit his head. Rubbing the top of his skull, he turned to look at his brother. “Paps, no.” 

“WHYEVER NOT?”

Sans sighed. “Papyrus, you were attacked, like, a week ago. ’Kay? What if they attack you again?”

“But I know how to defend myself!”

“I know, but…” Sans suddenly remembered seeing Papyrus’ limp body again, and he cringed. “No.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause no.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause no.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause no.”

“Why not?”

Paps . The answer is no.” Sans shut the refrigerator door a little more harshly than necessary.

“‘No’ is not a sufficient explanation!”

“Ya want an explanation?” Sans braced himself against the counter, his voice taking an uncharacteristically hard edge. It was subtle, but it was there. His eyes had dimmed significantly. “How ’bout this? You almost died , ’n it was basically all my fault. You were completely out of it, s’you wouldn’t remember; you wouldn’t understand, when I tell ya how close you came to dusting. If F- if I hadn’t gotten there in time, there’s no tellin’ what sorta state you’d be in right now. And I didn’t come all the way to the Surface just to lose you. So as yer brother, ’m asking ya. Can we just leave the store thing alone? At least just for today?”

A ringing silence fell. It was suddenly very, very quiet; the only sound Sans could hear was the sound of his own breathing. 

“Brother,” Papyrus said at last; he looked a little lost. 

Sans massaged his temples, looking down. 

“I did not realize you felt that way.”

“That makes two of us,” Sans muttered. 

Papyrus walked away from the house entrance and into the kitchen. “Why did you not tell me your troubles immediately? I would not have asked so insistently had I known…”

“I dunno. I didn’t even realize I felt that way until I said it.” Sans let out a long sigh. “Feelings are weird, bro.”

“Agreed!” 

“Aight, that’s enough chitchat,” Sans said decisively, changing the subject. “We gotta get the groceries. Whaddaya feel like eating today, Paps?”

“Spaghetti?” Papyrus said hopefully.

“Ehhh, we eat spaghetti everyday. It’s gotta be somethin’ special.”

“ARE YOU SAYING SPAGHETTI ISN’T SPECIAL? THE AUDACITY!!” Papyrus gasped, scandalized. 

“Nah. I just meant… it’s gotta be something Tori would like to eat.”

“Hm! Good point!” Papyrus thought hard, tapping a finger to his bony chin. “Oooh! How about we make her burgers!”

“Burgers?” Sans repeated doubtfully. “D’ya think I could pull it off?”

“Of course you can’t! Not by yourself! But that is what I, the Great Papyrus , am here for. To assist you!!”

“Glad I can count on ya, bro,” Sans said affectionately. His earlier mood had dissipated, dispelled in the way only Papyrus could do. “So, uh. We’ll need hamburger buns, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and beef. Ya mind writing that down on yer phone?”

“On it!” Papyrus pulled out his phone and eagerly began typing. 

“Cool. When yer done, lettuce go to the store, then.” 

Papyrus groaned.

“I hope Tori likes burgers,” Sans continued, on a roll. “I would hate it if making them was a mis steak .”

“WHERE IS YOUR WALLET?” Papyrus barked, and Sans started laughing. 

“I think it’s upstairs in my room. You mind goin’ and grabbing it for me?”

“Very well!”

“Thanks, dude. It meats a lot to me.”

Papyrus’ mouth twitched into a teeny smile, and then he snapped, “I AM OFF TO RETRIEVE YOUR WALLET!!”

Amused, Sans watched Papyrus stomp upstairs.

All of a sudden, Papyrus let out an ear-shattering screech.

“Paps?” There was silence. “ Papyrus !”

Blinded with panic- the attackers were back, they were hurting him - Sans immediately teleported to the top of the stairs, his blue eye darting left or right. “ Papyrus!

OH MY GOD!!! ” Papyrus’ voice shrieked again from the inside of Sans’ bedroom. Sans teleported to the entrance, hand extended, ready to spear whomever was inside with bones-

Sans’ froze, the light going out of his eyes, the smile he always had on slipping slightly with shock. He stared at Papyrus, then slowly turned his head around to stare at Frisk.

Frisk, who was. In his bedroom. Holding his pet rock.

Then, a miraculous sort of conversation took place- the kind in which an argument is held without any words. Frisk stared at Sans. Sans stared at Frisk. Frisk stared at Sans. Sans stared at Frisk. They were the special kind of stares that communicated the following:

Frisk: I can explain.

Sans: What are you doing here.

Sans: Also, why are you touching my rock?

Frisk: I promise that there’s a good reason.

Sans: For being here, or for harassing my pet rock? 

“SANS!” Sans’ concentration broke at the sound of Papyrus’ excited voice; Sans snapped his head back towards Papyrus, who was jumping up and down and pointing. “IS THAT- IS THAT THE HUMAN?!”

Sans turned to Frisk, looking her up and down. “Uh… no. That’s my pet rock.” 

“OH.” 

A pause.

“W-wait, but??? But there’s something next to the rock,” Papyrus blubbered, confused.

Sans let out a sigh, and uttered the inevitable: “It’s the kid.” 

“OH MY GOD!!” Papyrus shrieked. Then he leaned towards Sans. 

(“Are you sure it’s the human?”)

(“Yes”)

“OH MY GOD!!” Papyrus cried again for the third time, running to Frisk and pulling her into a big hug. “HUMAN!!! HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING IN SANS’ ROOM ALL THIS TIME?”

“I- uhm- not quite,” Frisk managed from Papyrus’ death grip. “I climbed in through his window. Sans, can you-?”

“Let her breathe, Paps,” Sans said, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh! Sorry! You are right, I should not overwhelm the human with my great affection.” Papyrus set her down. “So!! Where have you been, human?”

Frisk rubbed her sides, and shot Sans a helpless look. Sans raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer as well.

“Well, I kind of…” Frisk began lamely. “... took a vacation?”

“A vacation,” Sans deadpanned.

“A vacation?” Papyrus echoed.

“Yeah. A long one.” Frisk set down Sans’ rock, and looked down at her hands. “Uh… in fact, it was so long, I kinda forgot to come back.”

“What?” Papyrus looked a bit bewildered. “So you forgot us?”

“Wh-? No !” Frisk said, so forcefully Papyrus jumped a little. “No, I could never forget you guys. I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant… I needed a break from everyone, and from being the Ambassador. That’s all.”

“Well! A 5 year break must have been very relaxing!” 

Frisk winced, her eyes darting to Sans. “Yeah, I guess.”

“If Sans had it his way, I’m sure he too would take a 5 year break!” Papyrus cackled at his own stupid joke. “But he has me. Human, you have me too! Next time, just tell me you want a vacation. I will prepare everything for you and help you stay in touch with everyone, even when you are relaxing!” 

Frisk gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, Papyrus.” 

“I can’t wait to tell everyone that you are back!”

“Paps, no,” Sans started, just as Frisk yelled, “ No!

“What?? What is it now??”

Sans and Frisk exchanged glances. Then Sans said, “’Good question, bro. Let’s just say Frisk wants us to keep her a secret for now.”

Frisk nodded emphatically. “I didn’t want anyone to know I was back. Sans knew-”

“WHAT?? SANS KNEW YOU WERE BACK?” Papyrus spun around, jabbing a finger in Sans’ direction. “AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO INFORM YOUR VERY OWN BROTHER?”

Sans opened his mouth, but Frisk cut him off. 

“He only found out by accident! Please , Papyrus,” Frisk begged. “Please. Don’t tell Toriel. Or Asgore, or- or anyone.”

“HMFPH! ARE YOU DOUBTING MY SECRET-KEEPING ABILITIES?” Papyrus huffed, walking over to Sans’ nightstand and snatching the wallet off of it. “JUST YOU WAIT! I WILL BE THE BEST SECRET KEEPER! I WILL TELL TORIEL NOTHING DURING DINNER TONIGHT, JUST YOU WAIT!” 

Papyrus ran out of the room.

“Wait, wh- Toriel’s coming for dinner ?” Frisk shouted after him, then whirled to Sans. “Here? Tonight?” 

“’S a bit of a long story, kiddo. But yeah, we invited her over for dinner.” 

“I really need to leave, then,” Frisk said immediately, making to step out of the room.

“Hold it, kiddo,” Sans replied, putting a hand around her arm to stop her.

Frisk slapped his hand away hard , taking several steps back.

Silence.

“I’m so sorry,” Frisk said, looking mortified.

“You’re alright, kid.” 

“No, no.” She clenched and unclenched her hands. There was something off about her, Sans realized. The pallor of her skin, her strange, sickly expression. He wondered if she was okay. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was a reflex. Sometimes it bothers me more than other days… but anyways, you were saying?”

It really hit him then, studying Frisk, that Sans knew next to nothing about her. 

He knew that she was the Ambassador. That she cared about monsters. She was good to Papyrus. And he was learning new things about her everyday now that she was back in his life and more involved than ever, like how she loved dark chocolate and was a workaholic and apparently, hated being touched. But there were so many things he didn’t know- who her parents were. Where she lived. Where she’d gone. Why she left. Why she didn’t like being touched. What happened to her. 

Which used to be fine and good, because to be honest, he and Frisk were never really that close. So knowing that kind of stuff wasn’t necessary. It never bothered him. 

Now, there were so many feelings and people involved; combine that with the high stakes with the murder cases, and Sans felt… weird. He felt guilty for not knowing. Was it a matter of her not telling him, or him not being able to read her? 

“Sans?” Frisk prompted, breaking him out of his reverie.

“Er, right. I was ’bout to say… maybe you should stay over.” 

“No,” Frisk said immediately.

Sans held up both hands. “Hear me out, kid.”

“It doesn’t matter what you have to say, because the answer is still a no .” 

“Tori isn't doin’ too good,” Sans said, and Frisk stopped flat. “That got yer attention? You leaving, it really messed with her. Brought back a lotta unhappy memories of her old kid, Asriel. She felt like she failed you, ’n failed as a parent a second time. Ya know how it feels to lose a kid, vow to yerself to never let it happen again, only for it to happen again? Me neither. I don’t know how in the hell she managed to pick herself back up after that, but she did. Kid, you owe it to her to come back and tell her why you left.” 

“You said last time that Toriel’s heart couldn’t handle the second heartbreak.” Frisk’s voice was so low it was nearly mute. 

“So don’t break her heart again.” 

“Sans, it’s not that simple. I’m not planning on staying…”

“I already know that.” Sans drummed his knuckles on his bedroom wall. “But what ’m sayin’ is… give her that proper closure. Tell her she didn’t fail. Tell her, y’know, that you love her ’n you’re grateful fer her.”

“But- but what if…” Frisk trailed off.

“What? Spit it out, kid.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see me anymore?” Frisk’s voice was small.

“It’s almost like you haven’t known her for a decade. Kid, if there’s one thing to know about Toriel Dreemurr, ’s that she sees you as a daughter, and loves you very much like one. There’s literally nothing ya could do to change that.”

Frisk hesitated, and Sans could see she was seriously considering it. However, she shook her head. “... No. I can’t.”

Sans sighed. “How ’bout we compromise, then?”

Frisk straightened, raising both eyebrows. “What are you proposing?”

“When Tori comes over, stay in the house. Ya can hide out in my room upstairs. I’ll lock the door this time. That way, if ya ever feel like comin’ down and seeing her, you can. But if you don’t… well, you don’t have to. But at least you’ll be near her.” 

“Hmm.” Frisk thought for a moment; then, she begrudgingly nodded. “Fine. But I’m not coming downstairs.”

“Don’t say it too soon.” 

“SANS!!” Papyrus called from below. “ARE WE GOING GROCERY SHOPPING OR NOT?”

“Oh, yeah.” Sans glanced back at Frisk. “You wanna come?”

“No. I’m good. You go. I, uhm… I have a lot to think about.” Frisk attempted a smile. “I got a lot of research to do on Xienthysm, anyways.”

“Suit yerself.” With one final, significant look, Sans headed downstairs. 

There was another reason she didn’t want to see Toriel. Sans could tell by the way she averted her gaze, how her expression shuttered and became more guarded. He knew that look very well- it was one he wore everyday in the Underground. 

Maybe not knowing used to be fine and good, and maybe it didn’t bother him before- but now it did. 

He wanted to know.

The grocery store run was uneventful. They ended up buying a little too much, since Papyrus kept harassing Sans about making sure they had enough food for everyone. They also ran into Asgore on the way out of the store. Papyrus wouldn’t stop bragging to him about making hamburgers for the Queen herself.

When they got home, it was about 5:45. Frisk greeted them, sliding down the stairs and taking the groceries from their hands. “Let me help,” she insisted, bringing 2 of the bags to the kitchen. “What’re you guys making?”

“Burgers!!” Papyrus said excitedly, bringing in more groceries. “Human!! Are you instructed in the art of cooking?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so.” Frisk peered in one of the bags. “I cook for myself all the time. It’s edible, at least.”

“Good enough for me!! Please assist Sans and I in the kitchen, then, if you will!”

“We only got less than an hour to make the food,” Sans added. “It would be much appreciated.”

“Sure. I got nothing else better to do.” 

And so, the three of them began to make burgers. Papyrus set about chopping the vegetables, while Frisk and Sans toasted the buns and cooked up the hamburger meat. 

“Hey,” Sans said, sliding closer to Frisk and lowering his voice. “What’d ya get on the Xienthyst church?”

Frisk’s eyes darted back towards Papyrus, whose back was turned to them; he was humming happily as he sliced the tomatoes. “... Well, the entire ideology for Xienthysm is a bit suspicious by itself. They believe in this sacred deity; they call her Xiene . As their scriptures go, some dude who was the Original Prophet decreed the earth in the name of Xiene. Xienthysts are supposed to help her remake and nurture the world in her vision.” 

“Remake as in murder monsters?”

Frisk shrugged. “Possibly? They have a website full of rules and ideals and stuff, but nothing that cryptic. They just spew about love and respect. Still, though. Religious crimes are a pretty common thing.” 

“They got a list of members up?”

“Not church goers, no. Just people in positions of power. I’ll send you the link later.”

“What are you two talking about?” Papyrus said from behind them, causing them both to jump a little. “These burgers aren’t going to make themselves! Frisk, watch the beef and make sure it doesn’t burn! Sans, give me the cheddar and lettuce!”

“Alright, alright, I’m on it, cheese ,” Sans said. “Cheese. Jeez. Heh.” 

“Shut up, Sans,” Frisk and Papyrus said in unison. 

They were plating everything and spreading it out on the table when the doorbell rang.

“GAH!! IT’S TORIEL!! A MINUTE EARLY!” Papyrus put down the plate of cheese and immediately hurried to the door. Sans turned to tell Frisk to get upstairs, but she was already gone.

Toriel grinned as the door opened; in her arms was a silver pan, wrapped up in tinfoil; some kind of baked dessert if Sans had to guess. “Hello, Papyrus! It is so good to see you again!”

“Hello, Queen Toriel!!” Papyrus gave a deep bow, then gestured for her to step inside. “Come in!! We have the food all ready!”

“Thank you,” Toriel said, walking inside. “Where should I-?”

“I got it, Tori.” Sans was already at her side, taking the dish from her grasp. “Thanks for comin’.” 

“Thank you for having me over.” Toriel’s eyes made their way to the dining table, and she gasped. “Goodness! Sans, you made hamburgers ?”

We made hamburgers,” Papyrus said proudly. “Do you like hamburgers, Queen Toriel?”

“I’d love anything you make me, Papyrus. This is wonderful, truly.” They all sat down. Toriel was assembling a burger when the doorbell rang again.

“Huh?” Sans looked up, then stood. “That’s weird. We weren’t expecting another guest…”

Sans opened the door to a sheepishly beaming Asgore.

“Asgore?” Sans said dumbly.

“Asgore!” Papyrus said excitedly.

“Asgore,” Toriel said reluctantly. 

“Hello, Sans! Hello Papyrus! Hello Tori!” Asgore trudged inside without any invitation; blinking, Sans closed the door. “Papyrus here was just telling me earlier how you were having dinner here, so I thought I would join you!”

“You weren’t invited,” Toriel replied bluntly, focusing on putting a bun on her burger. “I’m sorry, Asgore, but I think you should leave. I’m trying to have a nice dinner with Sans and Papyrus right now.” 

Asgore’s face fell a little. “Tori…” 

“Wowie!!! Asgore came for my cooking!” Papyrus looked positively dizzy from excitement. “King Asgore, I implore you to stay and try some of the food! I promise very few bathroom trips this time!”

“You said that last time, Papyrus,” Asgore said jovially, although his eyes were still on Toriel. “And the time before that.”

“This time I mean it! Can he stay, Sans?? Just to at least try the food!”

“I dunno, bro. Ask Tori.”

“Queen Toriel?” Papyrus turned begging eyes on her.

Toriel looked torn. On one hand, she didn’t want to deal with Asgore. On the other, she couldn’t bear to disappoint Papyrus. Sans was having a similar battle with himself.

“... Oh, it’s fine, Papyrus. It is your house, after all. I am merely a guest.”

“YIPPEE!! King Asgore, sit down right here! I shall go fetch you a plate!” Papyrus skipped into the kitchen.

A heavy silence followed. Asgore kept glancing over at Toriel, who was determinedly ignoring him. 

“So, uh, Asgore,”  Sans said. “What’ve you been up to lately?”

“Nothing, really! Not much to do as the King of Monsters.” Papyrus came back with a plate. “Ah, thank you.” Asgore didn’t bother making a burger; he just took a bit of everything and began eating it with a fork. “There’s been a lot of meetings with humans. Frisk isn’t around to serve as Ambassador, as you know, so a lot of those duties have fallen to me.”

At the mention of Frisk, Toriel stilled. Papyrus and Sans exchanged looks.

“O-OH! Right!! Frisk, who is definitely not around,” Papyrus affirmed unhelpfully. “Not in this house. Or in any rooms. Specifically Sans’! Definitely. Not.”

Sans was suddenly very glad that Toriel was extremely focused on ignoring Asgore, and that Asgore was extremely focused on staring at Toriel. 

“I’m very sorry to hear that Frisk’s absence has caused a problem for you,” Toriel said coldly.

“Oh, well. It’s not much of a problem,” Asgore replied, completely oblivious to Sans’ dude, shut up before you make it worse expression. “It’s more of a minor inconvenience. Don’t worry about me.” 

Worry about you?” Toriel seethed. 

Oh boy.

“What in god’s name would make you think I would ever worry about you? All you care about is yourself.”

Asgore looked surprised. “What-? Tori, you know that’s not true.”

“It’s not true.” Toriel let out a very un-Toriel-like laugh. It was cold, false. “You tell me all this shit -”

Papyrus gasped and covered his ears. Sans coughed into his plate.

“-about caring about me, and wanting to be friends and stay in touch- but where were you when Frisk left ?” 

“Tori-”

Don’t Tori me,” she seethed. “You’re always doing this. Barging in when you’re unwanted, but when I actually need you, you’re gone .”

“Tori,” Asgore began, stung. “I cared about Frisk, too.”

“Like how you cared about Asriel?” Toriel had tears in her eyes. 

Toriel ,” Asgore said, aghast. Toriel stared stonily at her plate. A ticking silence ensued.

“Queen Toriel,” Papyrus said timidly. “You shouldn’t yell at people like that.”

“... You’re right, Papyrus.” Toriel rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’m a guest at your house, and now I’ve gone and ruined dinner.”

“’S okay, Tori,” Sans said. 

“I cared about Frisk very much,” Asgore said quietly; something like anger had sparked in his eyes. “Tori, I care about you.”

Toriel let out a wet scoff.

“When Frisk… left… you shut yourself in your house for weeks on end. You wouldn’t let anyone see you.”

“You could have tried harder to see me.”

“Toriel, I’m your ex-husband,” Asgore said tiredly. “There’s only so far I can push. And I- I had my own problems to deal with. But I’m trying now, Toriel.”

More problems?” Toriel stood up, fuming. “You always have things to deal with, and you never have time for family!”

“Is this about Asriel?” Asgore stood up as well. “Toriel, you didn’t even give me a chance to fix things with you. You were already gone. You did the same thing when Frisk disappeared. Her leaving hurt all of us, me included.”

“Oh really? It hurt you? All of a sudden, you seem to care so much about Frisk, when just a few years ago you wanted to murder her.” 

“What?” Papyrus said, looking shocked.

“Guys, that’s enough,” Sans interjected.

“That’s not fair, Tori,” Asgore said, anger rising. “I was doing it for monsterkind. I was doing it for us! ” 

“For us? Don’t you know what we needed? What I needed? I didn’t need Asgore, King of Monsters. I needed Asgore, my husband , to listen to me! And you never did! You threw it all the way the second you let me leave!” 

“Queen Toriel, please calm down,” Papyrus said worriedly, half-rising out of his chair.

Toriel whirled to Papyrus. “ Stay out of this !”

Sans got to his feet. “Hey. Don’t yell at him. He’s just tryin’ to help.”

Toriel looked around at them all- their expressions, the cold food. The metallic anger hanging in the air. Her expression twisted, and then she was gone, flying out the door and into the night.

“Toriel!” Asgore was already following her. “Toriel, wait!” 

The door slammed shut, so hard the walls rattled. Papyrus and Sans were left staring at it. 

“That was a disaster,” Papyrus lamented.

“It was bound to happen,” Sans said, scrubbing his face with his hands. “They’ve been in this weird spot ever since, uh… Frisk disappeared. At least maybe now they can talk about it.”

Or it could get worse, which Sans was inclined to believe, but he wasn’t going to say that in front of Papyrus.

Speaking of Frisk. She must have heard that all.

“Paps, clean up for me, will ya? Wrap up the food ’n put it in the fridge for me. ’M gonna go check on the kid.”

“Okay.” Papyrus started stacking plates, a dejected look on his face. Sans started up the stairs.

“Sans?”

Sans turned. “Yeah?”

“What did Toriel mean what she said Asgore wanted to murder the human?”

Sans closed his eyes. This was not a conversation he wanted to have right now. “Honestly? ’S probably something you should ask Tori the next time ya see her.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll be right back.” Sans climbed the stairs. Gently, he knocked on his bedroom door. 

“Kid?”

Nothing.

“Heya, so… uh, I dunno if you heard what happened downstairs, but they’re both gone now. You can come out.” 

It was very quiet in the hallway. And suddenly, Sans could hear faint noises coming from the bedroom. He tried the door handle, but it was locked. 

“Kid, I’m coming in.”

He teleported inside.

Frisk was huddled next to his mattress, staring blankly at the wall in front of her, hands covering her ears. Her eyes were glazed and fluttering, seeing something Sans couldn’t see. He could hear her quietly mumbling to herself.

“Kiddo…”

At the sound of his voice, she trembled. 

This was a lot different from when she fake-cried. For one, it was real. For another matter, she wasn’t crying so much as… whimpering. The confident woman Sans knew was gone, and in her place was a scared child. 

He didn’t know much about flashbacks- he was the one usually with the problems, he’d rarely helped people with them- but he was pretty sure Frisk was having one.

He approached her as one would approach a feral animal, sitting down next to her. He didn’t say anything at first, didn’t touch her, just quietly watched her.

“Frisk,” he said. “Hey. ’M right here, okay? Right next to ya. You’re in my room. You’re alright. You’re safe.”

He didn’t know what else to say or do, so he kept repeating himself, slow and soft and steady. After a few minutes, Frisk blinked rapidly, turning her head slightly.

“Sans,”  she said, looking a little surprised, slowly removing her hands from the sides of her head. “How did… When did you get here? My door was locked.”

“Yeah, sorry ’bout that. I, uh, teleported in here.” 

“Oh.”

Sans leaned back, resting his head against the wall. “‘’M sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s okay.” Frisk hugged her knees. “Those two… they’ve been at each other’s throats for a long time, huh?”

“Yeah. It, uh… it got worse after you were gone. But never like this.” Sans scratched his head. “I had no idea Tori felt that strongly, to be honest.” 

“Oh,” Frisk said blankly. “I thought I was helping when I left. But turns out, I just made things worse.”

“Kid, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I know you didn’t. But it’s the truth.” Frisk exhaled. “I made things harder on Dad by abandoning my job. I didn’t tell Mom a single thing even though I knew she’d be worried out of her mind. But… I dunno. I just feel like everyone’s overreacting.” 

Sans shifted so he was facing her, propping his chin up with his hand. “How many times am I gonna hafta tell ya that you matter to us?” 

“Until I believe it.” Frisk smiles wanly. “Which probably won’t happen anytime soon.” 

“Heh. I don’t mind reminding ya. S’long as it eventually sinks in.” He was quiet for a moment. “... Hey. I gotta question for ya.”

“Alright.”

“I need ya to answer me honestly, though.”

Frisk looked surprised. “Of course.”

Sans’ eyes swiveled to hers, white boring into brown. “I mean it, kid. No question-dodging, subject-changing shenanigans. I want a real answer fer once.” 

Frisk’s eyebrow raised, and she sat up straighter. “Depends on what you ask. But I’ll try.”

“’S all I ask from ya. ’Kay, here goes.” Sans cleared his throat. “What was going on with you?”

They both knew what Sans was referring to. 

Frisk let out a long sigh, running fingers through her tangled hair. “Well… you could call it deja vu. I was just sitting here, thinking about how much I wanted to come downstairs, and then- well, everyone started yelling. A lot of loud noises. Chairs scraping. And I was in a locked room- granted, I locked it myself, but still… y’know, it’s locked. It just brought back a lot of bad memories.”

“D’ya feel comfortable telling me about them?”

Frisk laughed. “Since when do you care?” 

“I just wanna know, kiddo.” Sans tilted his head. “You can trust me. ’M pretty good at keepin’ secrets. Better than Paps, is, anyways.”

She snorted, the corner of her mouth pulling up. Sans could feel his lifting as well.

“Didya hear that horrible cover-up he did?”

“‘Frisk is definitely not around,’” Frisk quoted, lifting her hands to form quotation marks before letting them drop to her sides, giving a light laugh. “I honestly thought it was funny.”

“In hindsight, it is.”

Frisk turned her body so it was facing Sans as well. “Did I ever tell you about my life before I fell into the Underground?”

This was new. This was good . Frisk was willingly opening up to him. Not wanting to say something wrong to deter her, Sans gave a slow shake of his head.

“Hmm. I think I’ve told Mom a bit of it, but not much. It’s not something I like to recall.” Frisk’s eyes went faraway. “I, uh… was a pretty lonely kid growing up. Toriel and Asgore are the only parents I’ve ever known. Before I fell, I kinda grew up in an orphanage.”

“An orphanage,” Sans repeated, eyebrows furrowing. “Like… those places where human kids without parents grow up?”

“Yeah.” Frisk shuddered a little, going quiet for a moment. Then she shook her head rapidly. “... S-sorry, this is really hard to talk about.”

“Ya don’t talk about it. ’S fine."

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive, kiddo.”

“Okay.” 

“Just… tell me one more thing.”

“Mhm?”

“Does it have anythin’ to do with why ya get kinda flinch-y when I touch ya?”

Frisk’s eyes widened, her cheeks coloring in horror. “Is it that obvious? I’m so sorry, it’s not that I’m uncomfortable around you, or scared, it’s just-”

“Kid,” Sans said, firmly but not unkindly, “you don’t hafta explain. I just wanna know, so I know not to do it again.”

Frisk averted her gaze. “... it does.”

That was all she seemed to want to say about it.

“Alright. I won’t push ya.” Sans paused, then added seriously, “Thank you for telling me, kiddo.”

“Yeah.” Frisk let out a shuddering breath, hugging her knees tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m such a mess right now.”

“S’okay. Everyone’s a mess sometimes.”

“Even you?”

Sans raised an eyebrow. “Duh.” 

“I find that really hard to believe.” Frisk searched Sans’ eyes. “You seem really…”

“Amazing? Magnificent?” Sans offered. “Your 2nd favorite skeleton of all time?”

Frisk coughed out a giggle. “Who’s first then?”

“Paps, of course.” Sans grinned. “No one can beat my bro.” 

“Can’t argue with that.” She shrugged. “Nah, I meant more like… you always seem put together. Calm. Wise.”

“Yikes. Ya think ’m wise?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Heh.” Sans adjusted himself, folding his arms and looking up at the ceiling fan. “I’ve lived a long time, kiddo. Ya learn how to wear a facade. But, uh… yeah. Even me.” 

“Well.” Frisk lifted a shoulder. “If the facade ever slips, and you need someone to talk to… I’m always here. I’ll try to help the best way I can.”

“Maybe I’ll take ya up on that offer.” It seemed very unlikely, though. Sans wouldn’t want Frisk to worry about him, on top of herself. “You’re a good person, kiddo.”

“Am I?” Frisk sounded doubtful.

“’S not a hard criteria to meet, kid. Ya just gotta care. That’s all it takes for someone to be a good person to me.”

“You are too, Sans.”

“I know. ’M pretty awesome.” Sans grinned as Frisk rolled her eyes. “Aight, I gotta get back down. Papyrus is gonna need help cleanin’ up the dishes.”

He stood up, brushing himself off. Frisk unfurled herself. “Wait, Sans- let me help you guys.”

“You sure? Ya don’t have to.”

“I want to. Besides, I haven’t eaten yet. You can’t clean up before I eat.” 

“Alrighty then. Hang on. Lemme help ya up.” Sans offered her a hand. 

Frisk stared at it, something in her gaze softening, before she reached up and grabbed it, her grip strong. He hauled her up, and together they headed downstairs.

2 hours later, Papyrus, Sans, and Frisk were sitting together in the living room watching TV.

Frisk had kept yawning in the middle of the movie, causing Papyrus to anxiously “SHHH!” several times. Eventually, she nodded off, her head hitting Sans’ bony shoulder.

Can you tell the human to snore more quietly ?” Papyrus hissed.

“Hey, kid,” Sans said to the sleeping Frisk. “Paps is askin’ ya if you can snore more quietly.”

Frisk snored in response.

“She says no,” Sans translated.

Papyrus was grumbling to himself about the audacity of humans when the doorbell rang. 

“Paps, can ya get that for me?” 

“On it! Pause the movie for me, please.” Sans reached for the remote as Papyrus reached for the door.

“UNDYNE!!” Papyrus shrieked.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sans said from his spot on the couch. 

“Hrrhgh?” Frisk asked, her sleepy eyes opening.

“HEY PUNK!” came Undyne’s voice. “Good to see you! Hey, can I talk to your brother real quick? It’s important, and it won’t take long.”

“Of course!!” Papyrus let Undyne into the living room. “He’s right over here, with… Sans?”

Sans and Frisk had disappeared.

Notes:

yikers undie gonna find out

Chapter 5: in which undyne misunderstands

Summary:

... of epic proportions

Notes:

i cut the chapter in half bc it was getting too long sobBBB

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

They landed in his room.

It would have been suspicious if Sans had just disappeared into thin air out of the house, so he simply teleported to his room, which had a lock. 

“There ya go,” Sans grunted, setting Frisk on top of his bed. She shifted slightly, still not fully awake.

“Wazzgonon?” she mumbled, trying to sit up.

Sans put a hand to her shoulder, cautious and light. “Easy, kiddo. Ya gotta lie back down.”

“Huh? B… but why?”

He immediately straightened and went to the bedroom door, pulled out his bedroom key, and turned the lock.

“Sans, what are you doing?” Frisk asked again, a sound of faint alarm in her voice. Alarm, and fear

Sans turned, taking in her expression. He looked back at the door, and back at Frisk. Saw how frozen her body was.

“Undyne is here,” he whispered, and her frozen expression melted away into one of relieved understanding. “’M sorry, kid. Didn’t mean to frighten ya.”

“S’okay.” Her fear dispelled, Frisk returned to looking immensely tired. “Wait, Undyne is what? ” Her opened her eyes wide, and attempted to get up. “I should leave-”

“Nah, don’t move. Get some rest. You’ve, uh… had kinda a long day. I got this. She’s lookin’ for me, so uh, ’m gonna head downstairs and then she’ll leave. I know locked rooms bother ya, so-” Sans tossed her the key; it landed next ot her on the bed. “There ya go. If it gets too much, you can leave. Just try to ’n keep quiet for me, yeah? I don’t want Undyne to find out about ya, as well.”

“I’m sorry for making you do this,” she said softly. “All this just for me.”

Sans paused, about to teleport, and glanced at her again. “Kid,” he said sincerely. “I wouldn’t be doin’ this fer ya if I didn’t think you were worth the trouble.” 

Frisk blinked rapidly on the bed, suddenly looking very small.

“I really gotta go, though. I’ll be back in a jiff.” Sans gave a little salute and evaporated, reappearing in the downstairs bathroom.

Pretending that he had just needed to pee, he flushed the toilet and casually strolled out, hands in his pockets. 

“Oh, there he is!” Papyrus said. “Sans! Undyne wanted to see you!”

“Did she?” Sans turned. 

Undyne had clearly just come off from work; she was still in her dark police uniform, her red hair tied up in a ponytail. She jabbed a blue finger towards Sans, and demanded promptly, “What’s your deal with Alfred?”

“Well, hello to ya, too, Undie.” Sans shuffled into the kitchen, calling out, “D’ya want some coffee?”

“WHAT? NO! I CAME HERE TO GET AN ANSWER FROM YOU! NOT TO DRINK COFFEE !” A pause. “GIVE ME A DOUBLE EXPRESSO, IF YOU CAN!”

“Yer the boss.” Sans started up the coffee machine. 

“Who’s Alfred?’ Papyrus wondered out loud.

“HAH! Just some punk from my department. And apparently, Sans is interested in him! Even has a weird photo of him! And I just want to know why!”

“Ya could’ve texted me,” Sans pointed out.

“CONFRONTATIONS AND INTERROGATIONS SHOULD HAPPEN FACE-TO-FACE, NOT THROUGH A SCREEN AND TEXT! THAT’S FOR WIMPS AND LOSERS!” Sans came back with her cup of coffee. “THANKS!”

“Perhaps Sans is trying to make friends!” Papyrus theorized. 

“’S nothing like that, Undie.” Sans leaned against the wall. “Just, uh. Got curious.”

“Why’s that?” Undyne barked. 

Sans thought fast. “Just wanted to know who yer co-workers are. He came by the store a while back.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He seemed like a, uh, interesting dude.” Sans remembered next to nothing about his encounter with Alfred, but Undyne had described him as disagreeable. He could play off of that. “’N he was a police officer, so I wondered if ya knew him. That’s all.”

“Interesting is a lame adjective,” Undyne growled, chugging the entire cup of coffee in one go. “Then again, Alfred is a lame human. So I guess it’s fitting!”

Sans phone suddenly sounded; he pulled it out to find a text from Frisk.

 

kid

i can hear undyne screeching from here LMAO

Can you get her to leave? I gotta pee

hold it in for a lil while longer

Im going to piss all over your bed and its going to be all your fault

pls refrain

that mattress is already dirty enuff

Then hurry :)

 

“Who is that you’re texting?” Undyne inquired, peering at his phone. Her eyes squinted. Sans turned off his phone, but it was too late.“Who is kid ? Are you talking to Monster Kid?”

“Is that whom they are called?” Papyrus said, gasping. “Sans has been texting someone nonstop for the past few days! When I was still at Toriel’s, he would constantly be checking his phone. SANS!! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU MADE A NEW FRIEND?”

Well. This was an undesirable situation. Sans gave a slight shake of his head to Papyrus, hoping he would connect the dots.

And miraculously. Papyrus did . His eyes bulged. “OH!”

Sans gave a small sigh of relief.

“OHHH! I know who it is!” Papyrus bounced on his toes, unreasonably thrilled to have figured it out.

“Who?” Undyne demanded. “ Who ?”

“NYEHEHEHEHEH! THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS BEEN INFORMED IN CONFIDENCE ,” Papyrus said smugly. “YOU WILL HEAR NOT A WORD ABOUT SANS’ HUMAN FROM ME.” 

“So it’s a human!” Undyne said triumphantly.

“WH- WHAT? I NEVER SAID THAT!”

“You just did!” Undyne appeared to be thinking hard. “So Sans has a human friend… who’s contact name is kid … Hey… could it be-?”

A noise came from Sans’ bedroom. A pained kind of noise.

“Kid,” Sans said, and immediately started up the stairs.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THE HUMAN?” Papyrus cried, running after Sans.

“WHAT’S HAPPENING IN GENERAL ?” Undyne yelled, following them both with an irritated, confused expression. 

Sans didn’t answer him, going up to the bedroom and immediately knocking on the door. “Kid? Kid, talk to me. What’s going on?”

There was a muffled groan, and then a heavy thump ; it sounded like Frisk had fallen out of bed. 

“Kid, unlock the door,” Sans instructed. His eye stuttered blue. 

“I can’t move,” came Frisk’s whispered reply, scratchy and aching. “It h-hurts when I move.”

Sans closed his eyes, trying to think of what to do. Frisk had the key to open the door; he could ask Papyrus to tear the door down with his bones, but what if he accidentally ended up hurting her instead? His aim wasn’t exactly precise. There was a window from his room, but it was a story up, too high for him to reach normally.

If he could just get Papyrus to leave, he would be able to teleport inside and get her out, but… 

“STAND BACK!” Undyne came thundering up the stairs. “I WILL ASSIST!”

She grabbed the door handle and yanked the door completely off. 

Well. That workedd as well.

Papyrus came rushing into the room. “HUMAN!!”

Frisk was huddled on the floor, arms wrapped around her waist. Sweat was rolling down her face, and she was shivering so much the floor was practically vibrating with her.

“SANS!! WHAT DO WE DO?!” Papyrus shrieked, looking panicked as he towered above Frisk, wringing his hands.

“Hey, Undyne,” Sans said, walking to where Frisk laid, “didya take yer car to get here?”

Undyne, who had been standing at the entranceway frozen, her eyes on Frisk, snapped to attention. “Yes, I did.”

“Great.” Sans encircled his arms around Frisk, lifting her up, one arm underneath her knees and the other to her back, her head resting on his collarbone. “Let’s go, then.”

Undyne’s car was parked by the curb of Sans and Papyrus’ house. It was a bright, neon green Jeep, the license plate reading UNDYNE2 (“I’m Undyne #1, and my car’s Undyne #2! Clever, right?! FUFUFUFU!”).  

“Drive to the nearest hospital,” Sans ordered as soon as they were all buckled in. “Quickly.”

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!” Undyne growled, but started the car and began roaring down the street at a very illegal speed.

“AREN’T YOU A HUMAN POLICE OFFICER, UNDYNE?” Papyrus shouted.

“YEAH! I AM!”

“YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF UPHOLDING THE LAW?”

Undyne straightened. “YES!”

“THEN WHY ARE YOU DRIVING 20 MILES ABOVE THE SPEED LIMIT???”

“BECAUSE I’M A HUMAN POLICE OFFICER!” Undyne skidded on a right turn, nearly ramming into another on-coming car. “I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT!”

“That’s probably not how it works,” Sans said. How she even managed to obtain her badge, that was beyond Sans.

“REALLY?? THAT SEEMS TO BE THE SENTIMENT OF ALL COPS! FUFUFU!!” 

Frisk leaned over Sans’ body to puke out the window.

After a few more minutes of reckless driving and near collisions, they arrived at the Louie St. Clair Hospital. 

“HEY!! YOU!!” Undyne shouted, busting open the hospital doors. The clerk in the front and the quiet people in the waiting room all jolted. “SHE’S DYING! HELP HER!”

“THE HUMAN IS DYING?!” Papyrus sounded out of his mind with panic and worry.

“Paps, don’t worry. The human doctors won’t let that happen.” Speaking of, about 3 of them came hurrying out of the doors, one of them pushing a stretcher and an IV drip bag. That was fast. Sans began unloading Frisk onto the cot. She grabbed his jacket sleeve weakly.

“Yer okay, kiddo,” Sans said, so quietly only Frisk could her. He put a careful hand on top of hers, and pulled her free. Then her eyes closed.

“What happened, sir?” one of the doctors asked.

“Well, uh- she was hanging out with me ’n Paps at our place, and then she, uh, went upstairs to one of the rooms for a bit. Long story, she wanted to avoid bumpin’ into Undyne.” Sans scratched the back of his neck, watching her be wheeled away. “Next thing I know, I hear cries comin’ from the room. S’we brought her here, and…” 

“What are her symptoms?”

“Well…” Sans thought for a moment. “She got kinda sleepy, ’n she said she had to use the bathroom real bad before. She was shiverin’ the entire way here. Sweating too… she threw up in the car as well. And it looked like her stomach was in pain.” 

“You mentioned her being sleepy? How long was she exhausted for?”

“Uhh. Since maybe 7?”

“Alright. Thank you, sir. Please wait out here. If you could fill out the paperwork for her, that would be great; Miss Trii up there will help you.” The clerk gave him a reassuring smile from her desk.

“Sure.” 

After recieving a clipboard, papers, and pen, Sans began filling out everything. After a few minutes of scribbling, he handed back the forms to the clerk.

“Thank you…”

“Sans.” He shoved his hands in his pocket. “Sans the skeleton.”

“Thank you, Sans. I assure you that-” Miss Trii rifled through the papers, a fine eyebrow raising, “- Ambassador Frisk is in good hands.” 

“’Preciate it, thanks,” Sans replied, then walked back to Undyne and Papyrus, who were doing a very bad job of waiting quietly in the waiting room. Undyne was pacing. Papyrus didn’t know what to do- he kept sitting and standing and walking around only to return to sitting, and the whole cycle began again. 

“What’s going on with Frisk?” Papyrus asked immediately.

Sans sat down next to Papyrus. “I have no clue. Looks like we’re gonna be here fer awhile.” 

“What do you think happened to her?” Papyrus asked, fearful.

It was at this point the situation was really dawning on Sans. It was evidently clear that Frisk had been poisoned somehow, if her symptoms were anything to go by. His mind was turning; there were plenty of people who would want to poison the Ambassador, but she had been out of commission for nearly half a decade; who would hold such a grudge?

His stomach seemed to sink. It couldn’t have been someone from the Xienthyst Church, right? Or maybe it was Kaycee M. herself. How had they found out so easily? How had they targeted Frisk?

Carrying Frisk’s body reminded him too much of Papyrus. Nausea rose. If he had skin, it would have been crawling. Kaycee M. had struck again, and once more Sans was useless. 

Not that he was going to say any of that to Papyrus. So Sans dodged the question. “Whatever happened, the doctors’ll fix her right back up. Don’t worry, Paps.”

“This is unbelievable,” Undyne muttered, still pacing.

“I know! How could this have happened?” Papyrus mused. “The human appeared to have been in great health.” 

“No,” Undyne gritted out, and stopped in front of Sans and Papyrus. “I was talking about the fact that she’s back .” 

Papyrus’ mouth opened and closed like a fish, then he looked at Sans helplessly.

“I mean, SERIOUSLY!” Undyne spat out aggressively. “ FIVE. YEARS. Five years of NOTHING!! And then THIS?” 

So today was a day for hard conversations. “Undyne, look-”

“She screwed all of us over!! How are you not more mad?!” Undyne paused, then jabbed a finger at them both accusingly. “ Unless you were in on it the entire time ?”

“Wha- no, Undyne, that’s impossible,” Sans replied, exasperated.

“HOW CAN I BE SO SURE? YOU HAD HER PHONE NUMBER SAVED!”

“I found out she was back by pure accident a few days ago,” Sans explained, sitting up a little. “’N  Paps just found out, like, just a couple hours ago. We had no idea, just like you.”

“THEN YOU SHOULD UNDERSTAND HOW INFURIATING THIS ENTIRE SITUATION IS!!” Undyne yelled. People were beginning to shoot them disgruntled looks.

“Undie, I get yer mad.” Sans raised both hands to placate her, eyes darting around. “But just, uh- just tone it down a bit, yeah? This is a hospital.”

“Hmfph,” Undyne grumped, sitting down on a chair with such force that it shattered into pieces beneath her.

“She’s got guts, I’ll give her that,” she continued, sitting on a new chair, fuming. “Coming back after she abandoned us all like that. What right does she have!” 

“I mean,” Papyrus said timidly, “She probably has every right. At a legal standpoint. As a cop, you should know the laws.”

“Hmfph,” Undyne grumped again. 

“Undyne, I don’t get why you’re so upset! The human is back ! She did not abandon us after all!! Don’t you want to give her a hug after not seeing her for so long?”

“No,” she growled. “As soon as she’s discharged, I’m gonna punch her in the face!”

“B- But then… she’d have to go back to the hospital.”

“GOOD!! I HOPE SHE STAYS THERE FOREVER SO I NEVER HAVE TO SEE HER AGAIN!” Undyne slammed a fist into the arm of the chair, causing it to break. “Abandoning your friends is what losers do! Frisk is a loser! I don’t want anything to do with her!”

“But you agreed to take her to the hospital,” Sans pointed out.

Undyne grumbled again. 

“Did you two hit your heads on the way here? Did you forget what happened after she left? She hurt everybody. Queen Toriel couldn’t get out of bed! King Asgore was even more of a buffoon than he usually is! And Alphys…” Undyne’s face contorted. “After everything we went through together- the Underground, the struggle to be accepted on the Surface- right when we needed her the most, she vanishes. Why did she even go, anyway? Huh? Did she get bored of us, or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Sans said.

“How’re you so sure?”

He shrugged. “C’mon, Undie. Maybe you hit yer head on the way here. That’s just not her nature, y’know? That kid… she’s stubborn ’n headstrong and can’t take ‘no’ for an answer. ’S what made her a good ambassador, ’n it’s what also made her a good friend. If she left, there’s probably a good reason.” 

“A vague ‘good reason’ doesn’t fix everything,” Undyne replied tersely. “A good friend wouldn’t have fractured a community she supposedly worked so hard to build.” 

“Maybe you should ask her ’bout it, then. When she wakes up.”

“Hmph. Maybe I will!”


“Hey, Sans.”

Sans cracked open an eye to glance at Undyne. They had been waiting in the hospital for about 30 minutes now (Undyne had paid for the chairs she broke, don’t worry). It was 9:21. Papyrus looked very tired, but was vigilantely staying awake. Sans was impressed. 

Undyne, on the other hand, was wide awake.

“Yeah?”

Undyne’s tone was suspicious. “What was Frisk doing over at your house, anyways?”

“Oooh, we were watching a movie together!” Papyrus piped in excitedly. “So, earlier, after I found her in Sans’ room-”

“You found her WHERE ?” Undyne bellowed, just as Sans said, “Aw, jeez, Paps, ya can’t say it like that.” 

“What? Why not?” Papyrus looked genuinely confused. “It’s what happened! She was touching your rock!”

Undyne stood up so fast what remained of the chair flipped backward. “ SHE WAS TOUCHING SANS’ ROCK?”

There weren’t that many people in the waiting room now, but what few lingered gaped at them. 

“He mean my actual pet rock,” Sans hastened to clarify. “Undie, please sit down.”

“AND IN FRONT OF PAPYRUS TOO???” Undyne was looking very, very angry and very, very nauseous. “MAYBE THAT’S WHY FRISK IS ILL. INTERCOURSE BETWEEN MONSTERS AND HUMANS IS-”

Ahem .”

The doctor from earlier stood behind them, coughing awkwardly into his fist.

“SIR!!” shouted Undyne, standing to attention. Papyrus and Sans rose. 

“Whats the news with the kid?” Sans asked. 

“Well, she’s in stable condition,” the doctor began, and the three of them breathed a sigh of relief. “And at the moment, she’s ready to be discharged.”

“Really?? So quickly?!” Papyrus hugged the doctor. “Thank you, human, thank you!!! Your healing powers rival even Queen Toriel’s!!”

The doctor, though looking bemused, patted Papyrus on the back. “It’s no problem. Just doing my job.” Turning to look back at Undyne and Sans, he continued more seriously, “It appears to have been a bad case of food poisoning.” 

Sans blinked. “Food poisoning,” he repeated. “As in… poison was injected into food she ate?”

“No! No, goodness no.” The doctor shook his head. “Nothing serious as that, fortunately. No, I am speaking of foodborne illness . Something she ate was contaiminated with salmonella. Now, symptoms for salmonella typically appear after 6 or more hours after infection, but from what Miss Frisk has told us, she began showing symptoms two hours after dinner. It seems more likely then that she contracted it from dinner.” 

“From the burgers ?” Sans echoed, incredulous. He didn’t know why he was surprised. Of course it was from the burgers.

“Did Papyrus help make ’em?” Undyne asked.

“Well-”

Undyne snorted. “Of course he did.” 

“The bacteria has entered her bloodstream, however,” the doctor continued, folding his arms. “which while very serious, is nothing that can’t be dealt with. You brought her in quite early, so it wasn’t too late. We’ve prescribed her an antibiotic to take for about two weeks- fluoroquinolones. She’ll have further instructions on how to acquire them, but I thought it would be prudent to inform you.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” Sans said, and shook the doctors hand. 

“Of course. She’ll be out in a minute. Good night to you all.”

The doctor nodded to them and left. Sure enough, a few moments later Frisk emerged, looking tired but no longer in pain. Sans let out a quiet breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and a wave of relief washed over him. So it wasn’t Kaycee M., after all. Frisk was still okay.

“HUMAN!!” Papyrus bounded up to Frisk, nearly toppling her over. 

“Hey, Papyrus,” Frisk said, smiling softly and hugging him. “Good to see you.”

Frisk’s eyes drifted upward to Undyne; her expression fell, and she slowly unwound herself from Papyrus. “... hey, Undyne.” 

“Hey,” Undyne said back bluntly. “It’s, uh- it’s good to see you’re doing better.”

“Oh, uhm… yeah.” Frisks’ voice was hesitant. Her eyes found Sans, who merely shrugged, as if to say, this is your battle, kid

“And it’s good to see you. In general. After 5-odd years,” Undyne added. 

“Right,” Frisk said, her gaze falling to the floor. Sans could see her throat bob as she swallowed. “About that-”

Undyne waved her off. “Don’t even bother. You’re not off the hook, but even I’M not heartless enough to interrogate someone right after they’ve been discharged from the freakin’ hospital! Salmonella, eh?”

Frisk’s lip twitched. “Uh, yeah, apparently so. It was probably either the cheese or the meat.” 

“Human, I am so sorry!!” Papyrus apologized, looking crestfallen. “I berated you and Sans about making the burgers, but it was ultimately my screw-up.”

“Papyrus, it’s okay,” Frisk assured. “I’m okay now, aren’t I? It wasn’t your fault. It was probably Sans’ fault.”

“Hey,” Sans interjected. 

“I mean, you know Sans,” Frisk continued, playfully elbowing Papyrus, who giggled. “He’s a lazybones at heart.” 

Even just out of the hospital, Frisk was looking out for others; Sans was reminded of all the other times she cheered up Papyrus despite herself. Undyne was definitely wrong, Sans thought, watching his brother as Frisk laugh at his expense. Frisk was a good friend .

“Alright, ya punks. IT’S GETTING LATE!!” Undyne grabbed Papyrus by the waist and carried him using one arm. “LET’S GO FOR A RIDE IN #2!!”

“SAAAAAAANS!!!” Papyrus shrieked as Undyne bounded out of the hospital door. 

Sans laughed, watching them disappear. “I don’t know where she gets the energy, to be honest.”

“’Course you don’t.” Frisk poked him on the side. “I meant what I said. You’re a lazybones at heart.”

“Well, ’scuse you.” Sans poked her back. “Ya should be thanking this lazybones for saving yer life.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Frisk’s smile faded. “Thank you, Sans.”

“Psh. I was just jokin’, kid. ’S nothing, really.” Sans kicked at a random rock on the sidewalk. “I should be apologizing to you, actually.”

Frisk tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Sans gestured towards Undyne’s figure in the distance. “Well, Undie found out. That’s not too good.” 

“You did your best with the situation you were given. I don’t blame you at all.” Frisk sighed, her breath fogging up in the cold night air. “But… I definitely won’t lie. It’s not ideal.”

“Not ideal?” Sans echoed.

“Yeah.” Self-consciously, Frisk tucked a hair behind her ear. “Originally, no one was supposed to know I came back, y’know? I was just going to take care of this little thing then leave for good. Having people know just… complicates things.” 

Sans paused, looking back at her seriously.

“How come?”

Frisk laughed a little at that, lowering her gaze. “It’s better if you don’t know, Sans.” 

“’N why’s that?” 

She smiled, melancholic and slow. “Because it would complicate things.” 

He watched her go, studying her for a moment before following. 

“THERE YOU ARE, YA SLOW PUNKS!!” Undyne had been waiting impatiently in her car. “I’ve seen human GRANDMAS walk faster than you! FRISK!!”

Frisk had been buckling herself in; at the sound of her name, she jumped a little. “Hm?”

“GIVE ME YOUR ADDRESS! I’LL DRIVE YOU HOME!”

“Yeah, of course. It’s 712 Sanderson Avenue. Thank you.”

It was a quiet 10 minute drive from the hospital. By the time they had arrived, Frisk had fallen asleep again.

“Sans, you got her?” Undyne asked, stepping out of the car.

“I got her,” Sans sighed. It seemed he was permanently stuck on Carrying Frisk duty. 

When they approached the front door, they realized they had a problem.

“We don’t have keys,” Papyrus noted.

“KEYS ARE FOR LOSERS!”

Shhh ,” hissed Sans and Papyrus as Frisk gave a gentle snore.

“ᵏᵉʸˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵒˢᵉʳˢ !” Undyne whisper-shouted, then yanked the door clear off its hinges.

“What’s the point of being quiet if yer gonna do that?” Sans rolled his eyes, but luckily, it didn’t wake up Frisk. “Aight, let’s get her to her room ’n then we’re outta here.” 

They stopped merely a few feet in.

To say Frisk’s house was a wreck would be an understatement. Even without any light on, Sans could make out empty take out cartons littering the floor, along with empty glass bottles, some of them shattered. Paper towels were scattered everywhere .

“What the hell ?” Undyne said.

“The human is quite messy,” Papyrus noted, looking a little daunted by disarray. 

“That’s one way to put it,” Sans muttered, adjusting his grip on Frisk. “... Keep going, you guys. Don’t gawk.” 

They continued down the one hallway, which lead to a bathroom on the left and Frisk’s bedroom straight ahead. Papyrus needed to use the restroom, and so he went. Undyne- carefully, this time- opened the door.

There were pencils and papers strewn all over the floor, covering every inch of wood. The desk pushed to the right side was drowning in notes.

Sans approached the bed, then noticed a stack of newspapers sitting on the stand next to it. Unlike the rest of the room, which was haphazard and messy, these newspaper were crisp and folded neatly. Holding Frisk with just one arm, he reached down and flipped through the papers. 

They were articles about Toriel and Asgore, updates on the city in which they all lived in., advertisement posters for Grillby’s, that sort of thing. The edges were bent and creased; clearly they had been read quite a few times. In between the sheets, there were photos- Sans ran a gentle finger over a Christmas photo, taken at Toriel’s house. Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Toriel, even Asgore was there- and Frisk.

 Across the door, a bulletin board hung- photos and notes and red string was tacked all across, words like connection and suspect all over the board.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Undyne, who studied the board with shrewd eyes. “Hey, Sans. Look at this.”

Sans didn’t need to look. “I know, Undie.”

She glanced at him sharply. “You know?”

There was no point keeping the secret now. “Yeah. Remember how I said I found Frisk out by pure accident? Well…”

He relayed the entire story to her. Undyne listened with uncharacteristic silence. 

When he finished, she yanked the entire bulletin board off the wall.

“What are you doing.”

“I’m taking this with me,” Undyne puffed. Around the wood, she gave Sans a grave look. “She can’t stay here, Sans. This place’ll suffocate her to death.”

Sans glanced around, realizing Undyne was right. “... Okay. Let’s go back to my place.”

They left the bedroom. Papyrus was washing his hands using the sink; he bounded out when he saw them leave. “Are we ready to go?” Papyrus asked. His eyes went to Frisk. “Why is the human not in bed?”

“She’s not stayin’ here,” Sans explained. “She’s gonna have a sleepover with us.”

“A sleepover ?” Papyrus gasped. “YIPPEE!! I’m so excited!” 

He ran out the door. Undyne followed. Sans was about to join them, then paused.

The bathroom light was still on; he could see, across the sink  and shower, was a cabinet full of medication bottles. Inexplicably, he drew closer, and opened it; scanned the rows of aspirins and cough syrups, and saw two stand-alone, white bottles, very clearly prescribed. Lexapro , the label read. They had never been opened.

Sans looked down at Frisk’s peaceful, sleeping face.

“SANS!” Papyrus shouted from outside.

“Coming,” Sans called back, his eyes never leaving Frisk’s face. Without missing a beat, he grabbed the bottles and pocketed them, before hurrying outside to Undyne’s car.

Notes:

<3

Chapter 6: in which sans acquires a new roommate

Summary:

... and goes on a chaotic shopping trip with them.

Notes:

i ended up rewriting this!! expect longer times to update, school has started

Chapter Text

Frisk took the news of being forcibly removed from her home and into Sans and Papyrus’ well. Suspiciously well. 

“Welp,” she said, when she had woken up with Sans explaining her new living situation. “I never liked that house anyway.”

Papyrus had been adamant on opening shop, so Sans had come to run The Greatest General Store Ever!!. Frisk had gone to go pick up her antibiotics, then appeared in the store to just hang out with them. It had been this way for two days. She was in the backroom now, organizing boxes of inventory they had just received that morning. 

“Ya don’t hafta help, kid,” Sans said for the upteenth time, poking his head through the door. “Seriously. Just go home ’n rest. You were literally poisoned.”

“Food poisoned,” Frisk corrected, not even batting an eye at him as she hefted a box filled with soda, adjusting her hat and glasses. A disguise, so no one would recognize the Ambassador of Monsters working at a quiet convenience store. “It was simple salmonella-”

“The doc said it was a serious case,” Sans interjected, gesturing towards the antibiotics left on the table. “Look at yer meds. I can’t even pronounce the name. That’s how ya know it’s the real deal.”

“Oh, grow up.” Frisk rolled her eyes, meaningfully bumping into him as she crossed him to go restock. “Papyrus, you enjoy the help, right?”

“OF COURSE!! IT IS AN HONOR TO WORK WITH THE HUMAN!!” Papyrus chirped from the cashier, ringing up a customer. “And you are definitely more helpful than Sans!”

“Woooow,” Sans said, leaning against the backroom doorway, folding his arms. “You two are ganging up on lil old me, aren’t ya?”

Frisk and Papyrus slapped hands, laughing.

“Human, one, Sans, zero,” Frisk sang, going over to the other side of the store. 

Sans shook his head amusedly, watching her put new cans into the slots. This was something he was coming to learn about Frisk slowly- that she was determinedly cheerful. 

Now, there was an important distinction to be made that Sans had come to realize: Frisk was not a cheerful person. Not naturally, anyway. Her true personality was more demure, quiet and dull. This was not to say she was a dull person, boring or a slow-wit. But she wasn’t someone who burned brightly. Her inner light was a flicker to what others perceived to be a flame.

That was what made her remarkable- she chose to be cheerful. She chose to make others laugh and smile. She chose to embody a flame. It was that distinctive choice that made all the difference.

She was a curious person, that much was for sure. Why would she do it? Was she hiding something, and if so what?

The bottles of Lexapro seemed to weigh heavy in his pocket. He hadn't had time to ask Frisk about them yet, but he would. 

Undyne had spent most of the past few days moving Frisk's belongings into boxes; they were sitting in Sans and Papyrus' living room when Frisk, Sans, and Papyrus returned home from the evening. 

“Thank you so much again, Undyne,” Frisk said, looking through each box and examining its contents. 

“Nah. Don’t be.” Undyne was sitting on the sofa, her arms folded and expression serious. “Now you owe me answers.” 

“Paps,” Sans said suddenly, looking at his brother. “Ya wanna go shower first?”

“OF COURSE!! I want the hot water!” Papyrus bounded upstairs to the bathroom in his room.

They all waited until they could hear the shower turn on before they all headed into the kitchen. 

Frisk exhaled quietly through her nose, closing the box, looking resigned. “What do you want to know?”

“Sans told me everything,” Undyne said as soon as they were all in; Frisk grimaced, sitting up on the counter. “About the killings, about you.”

Frisk shot Sans a sharp look. “About me?”

Sans gave a near imperceivable shake of his head. Not about that.

“About how you're trying to solve this thing by yourself. One person on her lonesome." Undyne paused, then reluctantly jerked her head towards Sans. "Well, one person and a half, if you count him."

“Is today Slander Sans day, or something?” Sans wondered aloud. “I swear, you all are dunking on me more’n usual.”

“When we went to drop you off, we saw your room.” Undyne disappeared into the house, re-emerging with Frisk’s bulletin board; Frisk’s jaw dropped as Undyne set it down with a heavy thud on the kitchen floor. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Frisk said in disbelief. “I asked you to move my stuff, I didn’t ask you to nose through it.”

“Too bad. I did.” Undyne’s tone was severe. “This is a pretty serious board. Like, I got detectives at work who are less dedicated to their job than you. And they get paid.”

Frisk shrugged.

“So, from what Sans told me and from what I’ve gathered, you’re thinking that the deaths of these 4 monsters-” Undyne produced a stack of papers out of nowhere. “-and Papyrus’ attack are correlated?”

Frisk hesitated, glancing over at Sans. Sans nodded. 

“Yes,” she said.

“Okay, well, you’re wrong.” 

Undyne’s response was so blunt Frisk choked on a startled laugh. “I’m sorry, but- what?” 

“According to our system, anyways.” Undyne shuffled the papers. “Listen, you little punk. I understand that you fancy yourself some kind of detective. And you’re great, honestly.”

She exhaled. “But our guys are decent, too- the ‘accidents’ obviously haven’t gone unnoticed. Especially by me, since I’m a monster myself. They’ve been given that ‘special attention’ by a couple ‘special people’, if you know what I mean.”

“No,” Sans said honestly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean LOSERS, idiot!! LOSERS!!” Undyne slammed her fist on the counter so hard the floor shook. “Sorry sacks of gross human flesh that call themselves protectors! But they’re higher rank than me, so I’m obligated to shut up otherwise I’ll lose my job. ARRRGHH!! It’s so frustrating!”

“So there’s definitely a wider conspiracy,” Frisk muttered. Such a small detail, but important for the case. Confirming things was important; little tidbits of information could not be taken for granted. “We’re not working with a just a few angry people. There’s people of power involved, people with money, and clearly there’s some level of organization.” 

“Lemme see those papers, Undie,” Sans said. “What are they?”

“It’s not official or anything, so don’t get too excited.” Undyne handed Sans the stack. “It’s just my personal notes. When the crime happened, where it happened, who was in charge of investigation, that stuff.” 

Frisk leaned over, reading the papers over Sans’ shoulder. 

“It’s the same three people,” he noticed, a finger following the words. “Alfred and two others- Elijah and Jamie.”

Frisk bit the inside of her cheek. “We should request to see records. See if they have a history of dishonesty. That would be really compelling evidence.”

“It would also be really suspicious.” Sans lowered the papers. “We’ve got three names. We gotta go about this in a discreet way.” 

Frisk raised an eyebrow. “Discreet how?” 

“We still have that party for the church.” He pointed at the date for Papyrus’ attack. “D’ya see this? And the other dates? Each attack is spaced out. 1 month apart. The next recruitment party, someone else is gonna get attacked again. All we gotta do is figure out who, and we’re golden. Undie can catch the bad guys in action.”

“I’ll WACKA-MOLE THEM OFF THE SURFACE!” Undyne cackled, summoned an unnecessary amount of blue spears. “FUFUFUFU!!!”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Frisk said. “We can’t talk to the cops about it…”

“There’s gotta be a pattern of location,” Sans said. “We got this, kid.”

 

Now that Undyne was on board, gathering information was now quite easy.

For the next two weeks, Undyne reported to them regularly with anything suspicious she saw on her daily patrols. Apparently, there were flyers once again of the Xienthyst Church’s recruitment party, and folks were chattering about it. 

Frisk had somehow obtained a map of the entire city, and had marked the places where monsters had been previously dusted, trying to see how they were related to the Xienthyst Church’s location.

“They’re all close to it,” Frisk said frustratedly. “But there’s no pattern.”

“Kid, yer doin’ that thing again,” Sans warned.

“What thing?”

They were sitting together in the living room. Papyrus was preparing spaghetti for dinner. Frisk and Sans were researching.

Well, Frisk was researching. Sans was just watching, silently judging her. 

“The thing where you hole up next to a computer and forget to eat, drink, or breathe for the next 10 hours.”

“Oh, psh.” Frisk rolled her eyes. “I don’t do that.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Frisk refused to answer, which made Sans suspect he was right. 

“What’s going to take ya to just take a break every now and then?” Sans folded his arms. “Take it from a lazy person. Breaks help.” 

“Nothing.” Frisk smirked, then stretched. “I’m a very determined person. It’s literally in my soul. I’ll take a break whenever I feel tired enough to do so.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Sans deadpanned. “Yer an abomination to humanity. You’ll feel tired and keep working anyways. You parasite. Who are you really?”

“Well, I’m definitely tired of you,” Frisk snipped.

“WOULD YOU TWO BE QUIET??” yelled Papyrus from the kitchen. “YOUR CONSTANT, ANNOYING BICKERING WILL TAINT THE TEXTURE OF MY SPAGHETTI!”

“Sorry,” Sans and Frisk droned. 

 And thus began the Frisk-Sans-Papyrus living dynamic.

Papyrus was the one both Sans and Frisk mutually agreed to take care of. No matter what happened, they would both put Papyrus first. This meant readily agreeing to whatever shenanigans he might come up with, or reluctantly sitting down to eat some of Papyrus’ spaghetti, as they were doing right now. 

“Thanks for the food,” Frisk said cheerfully, sitting down on the table to eat.

Fffbbttt.

Immediately, Frisk whirled around to glare at Sans; he gave her a shit-eating grin as Papyrus burst into such laughter he fell out of his chair.

Sans was the one who played ridiculous pranks on Frisk. Whoopee cushions stuck under Frisk’s chair at the dining room table (like just now), playing the trombone obnoxiously while she tried to work, casually dumping his dirty laundry into her basket. 

“You think I don’t notice?” Frisk snapped, holding the heavy basket and shooting daggers in Sans’ direction.

“Help a skeleton out. Yer already doin’ the laundry, anyways.”

“That’s not the point, Sans! I don’t want to wash your stinky socks!” 

“Aw, why not? Friendship is sockrifice,” Sans replied, then ducked as Frisk aimed the entire laundry basket at his head.

Sometimes Papyrus would join in- he was the one who came up with the shaving cream idea.

“Since the human insists on doing too much work, let’s punish her for resting!” Papyrus said triumphantly. “It will be IRONIC!” 

“Wow, Paps,” Sans said, raising an eyebrow. “I gotta say, I’m impressed.”

“I learned it from the TV!” Papyrus’ voice was very smug. 

Papyrus sprayed the shaving cream on Frisk’s hand while she was sleeping on the couch; Sans leaned over her, tickling her face with a feather. Almost like magic, Frisk’s face scrunched up with mild irritation, and lifted her hand to her face to get rid of the irritant.

Splat.

“SAAAAAAAANS!” Frisk roared, spluttering, and Papyrus and Sans skittered away, laughing. 

“Very funny, Sans,” Frisk said sarcastically. “Truly, a comedian for the ages.” 

“Wow, kid. No manners.” Sans fanned the air in front of his nasal cavity. “Ya could have at least tried to be quiet. Jeez.”

Frisk made a cutting gesture on her neck with her fingers. You are dead to me.

Sans made a peace sign with his. Do your worst, Ambassador.

Tonight’s dish was spaghetti, to no one’s surprise. This time around it was particularly revolting. Frisk took one bite, then casually spat it back out in her napkin, pretending to wipe her mouth. 

“Man, I am full,” Frisk announced, despite eating practically nothing on her plate. She turned to Sans, her eyes sharp. “I would hate for this to go to waste, though. Sans, you seem to really be enjoying Papyrus’ spaghetti. Why don’t you have my plate?”

Frisk was the one who was sort of jack of all trades. She could keep up with Sans’ pranks with witty remarks of her own. She had enough patience and good humor to go along with Papyrus. She cooked when Papyrus’ food was inedible to consumer, which happened a lot. She did Sans’ laundry begrudgingly. She kept the house clean. She did research. Considering how well she find into the skeleton household, one would assume she’d been living with them for years.

“Kid, how generous of you,” Sans replied, eye twitching. “But that’s okay. It would be selfish of me to take yer food.”

“No, please. I insist.”

“Well, I insist that you eat more. Since it’s so good.” 

“I’m already full.”

“From takin’ a singular bite?” Sans challenged.

“I have a small stomach,” Frisk defended.

“I don’t even have a stomach. BAM. I win.” Sans raised his hand, and Papyrus was obligated to high-five it, giggling. “Sans one, human one.”

Later that evening, as a sort of peace offering, Sans made Frisk and himself instant noodles. They huddled on the living room couch together; Frisk had a blanket on, furiously tapping away on her computer. Papyrus was curled up like a baby in Sans lap, snoozing away. Sans had the TV on, but was on his phone, looking up additional information he could find on the internet and relaying it to Frisk. 

At one point, he paused; he opened a new tab on his phone and searched up what is lexapro?

Lexapro, as it turned out, was an SSRI that treated depression and generalized anxiety disorder. When he realized what that meant, he immediately exited out of the tab. Of course he had thought it was something similar along those lines, but having it confirmed was a totally different thing. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that information. 

“I GOT IT!” Frisk shouted later that evening; she leapt up in triumph and started dancing on the couch. Sans, who had been sitting next to her and jotting things down on a notepad, started to laugh and clap for her.

“That was some good dancing, kid,” he said when she finally sat back down. “If my eyes could bleed, they would.”

“Oh, shut up.” Frisk was grinning; figuring out the answer had brought a light to her eyes. “I’m definitely a better dancer than you.”

“Ya wanna bet, kiddo?”

“20 bucks,” she said easily.

“Bet,” Sans deadpanned. ‘I’ll wipe the floor with ya at the party.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Frisk scooted closer to Sans and pointed at his phone. “Text Undyne. I got the location.” 

“Where is it?”

“It’s just a general guess, it might not be right,” Frisk replied, although her expression was saying I’m totally right and I know it. “But I was looking into how the locations correlated to the police officers- like how the Papyrus’ attack was in Alfred’s neighborhood? Based on the previous ones, I think the next attack is going to be about two blocks from Jaimie’s neighborhood.” 

“Street?”

“942 Michigan Avenue.” 

Sans texted the address to Undyne, who replied with a thumbs up. “And just like that, a crime has been prevented. All thanks to you.”

Frisk dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Pfft, please. If you weren’t helping, I wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

“Helping like prankin’ ya?”

Frisk rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. “I’m here despite you pranking me. I’m talking about you actually helping.”

“Hmm.” Sans eyed Frisk. “Are ya thanking me?”

“I am.”

“Then you owe me a favor.”

“... I don’t like where this is going.” Frisk narrowed her eyes at him. 

But Sans had a serious request, for once. “Don’t take credit for capturing the killers. If we do catch ’em.”

“Of course we will, but-” Frisk shifted in her seat, facing him fully now. Her eyes, dark as earth, were impossible to read. “What do you mean?”

“I never wanted Undie t’get involved. You know that.” Frisk nodded. “Well, if we do get the killers… if it comes out that she involved a couple of civilians and kept information from the police- that’s kind of serious, you know? Even if it was for the greater good. I don’t want a chance fer her to… y’know.”

“Get fired?” Frisk asked bluntly. 

“Yeah.”

Frisk contemplated him. “... I don’t know, Sans.”

His stomach sank slowly. “You mean… you want the glory or somethin’?”

“No,” she said immediately. “Not like that. Of course not. I couldn’t care less about that kind of shit.”

“Okay. Okay, then why?” 

“I just meant…” Frisk exhaled. Her voice became deeper, quieter. “I was gone for a while, right? I didn’t do my job. I wasn’t here like I was supposed to. I just want people to know that… that their Ambassador didn’t abandon them this one time. That she’s still here and she still cares. If I don’t get credited, no one will ever know.” 

“You would know.”

“But the monsters I did it for wouldn’t.” Frisk shrugged. “Then it wouldn’t have mattered in the end.” 

“Then stay.” Sans rested his chin on his hand. “Stay and keep being Ambassador.”

“Sans-”

“I know you said already that you wanted this to be, like… yer last hurrah, before you go burrow back into hiding. ’N I won’t ask ya why, because clearly ya don’t feel like answering me honestly, but… couldn’t you reconsider? You were gone for a while. You have a lot to make up for.” 

By the way Frisk’s body tensed, it had been the wrong thing to say.

Sans could see it again; the bright disguise Frisk wore and the quiet despair she hid underneath, flickering and converging violently in her eyes. 

Sans wanted to immediately take back what he said. He wanted to revise what he said. He wanted to go back in time and say something else. I didn’t mean that. I just mean that people would miss you when you leave. I would miss you, kid.

But as you probably realize by now, Sans has the general emotional intelligence of a singular grape when it comes to expressing his own feelings or thoughts, so he just resorted to staying silent.

“Yeah. You’re right. I’ll, uhm… I’ll think about it.” Frisk smiled weakly. “Do you mind leaving? I kinda wanna sleep.”

“Uh, right.” Sans stood up. “Night, kiddo.” 

“Good night, Sans.” 


“HEY!”

There had been vigorous honking outside of Sans and Papyrus’ house for about 10 minutes now. At first, they had all ignored it, thinking it was for someone else, until Frisk peered out the window and saw Undyne.

“GET IN, LOSERS! WE’RE GOING SHOPPING!”

Frisk pulled the window up as Sans and Papyrus crowded around it. “WHAT?? WHY??”

“HELLOOOO, YOU GUYS HAVE A SWANKY PARTY TO ATTEND, AND THAT-” Undyne stabbed a finger at Frisk’s sloppy clothes and Sans’ pajamas “-IS NOT GOING TO CUT IT!” 

“I have nicer clothes than this!” Frisk protested, but Undyne shook her head vehemently.

“JUST GET IN THE CAR, YOU BIMBOS! I’LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING!”

So just like that, they all rushed into Undyne #2, and as they careened out of the neighborhood, Undyne explained everything.

“You idiots do know there’s a THEME, right?”

“A theme?” Frisk repeated, looking confused. 

“Yes, punk, a THEME!” Undyne tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. “The party at the Xienblahblah place is the REAL DEAL. Very classy! They have a special theme every party. This one is masquerade. Do you guys know what it means?”

“I know what masquerade means!” Frisk squawked.

“Good. BECAUSE I DON’T! FUFUFU!!!” Undyne cackled. “Anyways, we’re going to the mall because the mall has everything!! I’m sure we’ll be able to find you dorks some masquerade stuff in NO TIME!”

They ended up finding a really good parking spot at the mall despite the busy hour (and by ‘finding’, Sans meant Undyne bullied a whiny rich kid out of his parking spot so she could take it). Sans had never been to the mall before- he’d never had a reason to, and it wasn’t really his scene. He preferred thrifting. The mall was jam-packed, choking with humans and monsters alike as they swarmed shop to shop.

“This is horrible,” Sans noted.

“SO MANY HUMANS!!” Papyrus gushed. “ SANS! WE CAN HAND OUT FLYERS TO OUR STORE!! THERE IS SO MUCH ADVERTISING POTENTIAL HERE!!” 

“So, where are we going?” Frisk shouted above the din. Currently, they were walking in a random direction. 

“TO A STORE!” Undyne shouted back.

“Okay, but where??” 

None of them appeared to have ever been to a mall before. 

“There’s gotta be a map or something for this place,” Sans pointed out. “Or a, uh, directory. Try to find it.”

“WHAT IS A DIRECTORY?” Papyrus puzzled.

“Directions,” Sans said helpfully.

“OH! WHAT DO THOSE LOOK LIKE?”

“I have no idea, Paps. I have no idea.”

After 5 minutes of circling the ground floor, they finally found the directory; a big stand with a map on it. Frisk took a picture of it so they could refer back to it if they forgot the directions.

“Why are there SO MANY STORES?” Undyne growled, her eyes glazing over. “ISN’T ONE OR TWO GOOD ENOUGH? WHY ARE THERE 17 DIFFERENT CLOTHING STORES??”

“There’s alot of restaurants too,” Frisk said, eyes lighting up. “We should get something to eat later!”

“AND ALL THE STORES ARE ON DIFFERENT FLOORS TOO!! WHO DESIGNED THIS HELLSCAPE?” Undyne grabbed a random person walking by them and began vigorously shaking them. “I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER!”

“Oookay, Undie. Fun as that is, let’s not harass random people.” Sans pulled Undyne off the beraggled human, apologized, and together they began following directions for Mimi’s Magical Fits. 

“Looks like it’s upstairs,” Frisk determined. “The escalator’s over here, so-”

Papyrus gasped and nearly had a seizure from excitement when he saw he escalator.

“SANS! SANS!! OH MY GOD!” Papyrus pointed frantically at the escalator. “IT’S A STAIRCASE THAT MOVES!!”

“I can see that, bud,” Sans said, amused.

“CAN WE HAVE THIS INSTEAD OF STAIRS AT OUR HOUSE??”

“Uh-” 

“I don’t trust it,” Undyne said suspiciously, moving closer to sniff at the escalator. “Who’s operating this thing?

“No one is,” Frisk explained. “It’s machine-operated. It’s like, tech and stuff.”

Undyne’s eyes bugged. “SO IT HAS A MIND OF ITS OWN?”

“Well-”

“Is this escalator METTATON?” 

“No,” Frisk said automatically. “No! How did you even get to that conclusion??”

“METTATON??” Ignoring Frisk, Undyne bent down, speaking loudly to the staircase. People getting on the escalator were giving Undyne funny looks. “METTATON, IS THAT YOU? WHY IS THIS YOUR NEW FORM? WAS IT ALPHYS’ IDEA??” 

Frisk had had quite enough, and dragged them all away from the escalator with surprisingly strength. “We’ll just take the elevator,” Frisk gritted out. “All of you, on your best behavior. Or else.”

“Y-Yes ma’am,” Papyrus said timidly.

“HMFPH! YOU DON’T SCARE ME!” Undyne sniffed, although she looked a little scared.

“I didn’t even do anything,” Sans said, and Frisk glared at him. “What? I didn’t.” 

They tried the elevator next. 

Sans felt immensely bad for the singular human riding the elevator with them. Papyrus would not stop pushing the elevator buttons; twice he called the fire department. Undyne refused to get in the elevator without at least one blue spear. 

The human scurried out as soon as the elevator doors opened; Papyrus bounded out, amazed. “WE’VE BEEN TELEPORTED!” 

“To the second floor, sure,” Frisk said, sighing tiredly. “Mimi’s is over in this direction; just turn right here and keep straight.”

“Turn where?” Undyne said, squinting in the distance.

Frisk sighed again, looking like an exhausted mom. “Nevermind. Just follow me.” 

They entered the store together; it was one of those really fancy places where one could buy a simple shirt with a brand name logo and it would cost a gazillion dollars. Sans and Papyrus went to go look at the men’s aisle, while Frisk and Undyne went to look at the women’s.

Papyrus insisted on Sans buying him two items; a shirt that had a picture of a Minecraft skeleton riding a spider, and a sweatshirt that the word SWAG printed on it. 

Eventually, Undyne came to join them. 

“Dresses are the worst,” Undyne grumbled. “I’m just gonna buy a suit.”

“What for?”

“For fun.” 

“Suit yourself,” Sans replied, waggling his eyebrows.

“Ugh. I’m going to arrest you.”

“On what charge?”

“Being painfully unfunny,” Undyne grumbled, and Sans laughed. 

Sans ended up picking the most basic, boring suit he could find; it would probably help him fit in more at the party, considering it seemed pretty conservative. Undyne bought a suit as well. Frisk had returned carrying something blue and silky in her arms, and Papyrus-

“Paps?”

When they had finished paying, Papyrus had disappeared. 

Immediately, every thought Sans had in his head melted away; his stomach emptied, and aat fist al he felt was confused. What did they mean, he must have run off? Papyrus was right there just a second ago. Sans had taken his eyes off of him for just a moment, it was impossible for him to just disappear like that.

He began to feel prickly as the panic settled. His chest felt oddly ticklish and sensitive; he could feel the fabric of his shirt rubbing against each rib in his ribcage, his heartbeat pounding in his throat. His limbs didn’t even feel attached to him. He felt totally separate from them. 

Why, why did he let Papyrus out of his sight, even for just one second? Why hadn’t he gone to the mall at all? He could have gone and ordered a stupid suit online, or he could have just opted out of buying one at all. The entire operation was pointless of papyrus got hurt again. If only Sans paid more attention. If only Sans was more aware of his surroundings. 

He felt something warm and slender wrap around his palm; fuzzily he looked down, and realized it was a hand, pulling him forward. He was moving, but he didn’t feel his feet move. He couldn’t feel his feet at all. 

He saw his mouth move; he was saying something. What was he saying? His own voice sounded tiny to him. Dimly, he registered one word; Papyrus. 

The hand slipped from his, grabbing at something in his pocket. Sans had no will nor want to stop it. It was like he was underwater, everything muffled and blurry.

“I’m going to call Papyrus,” Frisk was saying, although none of it was processed or understood by Sans. “Please pick up, ple… PAPYRUS! Oh my god, where- the what? Okay… okay, just- just say on the line. Undyne,” Frisk jerked her head towards Undyne, “he’s at the mall playground. Apparently he was advertising the general store to some people and some human children invited him to join him at the playground.”

“That DOOFUS!” Undyne’s voice rang out with relief and annoyance. “You would think he’s a human child. Where’s the playground?”

“Downstairs by the food court.”

“Alright. I’ll get him. You punks stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

Undyne scoffed. “You couldn’t keep up with me anyways! Trust me, I got this.” Without another word, Undyne zoomed off, leaving a trail of dust in her wake.

“I guess we wait then,” Frisk murmured, turning to Sans. “Hey Sans, you wanna sit down? There’s a bench right over here.”

 They sat down. Frisk was listening to Papyrus on Sans’ phone, nodding her head and occasionally saying something back. Sans stared at the floor, trying to calm down. 

“Sans.”

Sans didn’t reply, just continued to look blankly the ground until prompted again by Frisk.

“Sans. Sans.” 

Finally, he glanced up. Seeing his expression, Frisk paused. Sans could also see himself, reflected in her gaze- his eyes had gone dark, his smile slack. Wordlessly, Frisk held out the phone, as if to say take it.

Sans took it, and reflexively put the phone up to where his ear would be. 

“Sans? Sans, are you there?”

Something violent and hot bloomed in his chest when he heard Papyrus’ voice sound from the other end; it was such a strong feeling he had to close his eyes to steady himself. He swallowed; suddenly the inside of his mouth felt very dry, and his tongue felt very swollen and awkward. He was careful not to choke on it as he said, “Hey bro.” 

He felt like everything was zeroing in on him and this moment; the noise, the colors, the smells- all of it faded away, and it was just Sans and Papyrus’ voice.

If Sans wasn’t already sitting down, he would have surely fallen to his knees. He cleared his throat and added lightly, “The playground, huh? C’mon, dude. The playground’s for babybones.”

Papyrus was indignant. “IT IS NOT! PLAYGROUNDS ARE WORLDS SPECIALIZING in ENTERTAINMENT! HAVE YOU EVER KNOWN THE JOY OF SLIDING DOWN A SLIDE FROM A RIDICUlOUS HEIGHT? OR SWINING ON A SWING AT A TREMENDOUS SPEED?”

“No, because I’m not a babybones,” Sans replied, and chuckled as Papyrus huffed right into the receiver. “But, hey. I’ll take ya to a park sometime this week. We can go on a playground together.”

“REALLY?” 

“’Course. Just, uh- yer definitely not allowed to run off like that again.”

Chastened, Papyrus said, “Okay.”

There was a loud roaring sound from the other end; it sounded like distinctly like a bulldozer.

“UNDYNE’S HERE!” Papyrus shrieked giddily. “I HAVE TO GO, SANS. I’LL SEE YOU IN A BIT!”

“Bye, Paps.” The line went dead. 

He lowered the phone, sliding it back into his jacket pocket. “So, uh, Undie found him.”

“Really? That was fast,” Frisk noted.

“Ehh, she could’ve been faster. My guess is she got a little lost.”

Frisk laughed a little at that, tucking her chin on top of her knees. “That was inevitable. This place is massive.” 

“’S horrible. I never wanna come back here again.”

“Well, we got what we came for. And then some. Overall, I’d say it was a pretty successful trip!” 

There it was again; that smile, the look in her eyes. She was trying, in her own quiet way, to cheer him up. 

The disappearing of Papyrus must of shaken them all up; they were all aware of the monster killings. They all knew that Papyrus was the last to be targeted, and they must have all been fearful the killer was back to finish the job. They all had their own way to deal with fear. Undyne ignored it, shoved it aside, and was all about action. Sans was the opposite; he shut down. He gave up, and let someone else deal with the scary stuff. 

Frisk didn’t like addressing the fear either; but she would step up if she had to, and she knew how to damage control. She knew how to diffuse a situation. It was probably a skill she picked up being the Ambassador.

Or… perhaps not. Perhaps it was something she just naturally had within her, enhancing her job as Ambassador. 

Frisk was always really, really good at reading people. That above all- arguably, even above her determination- was what got her through the Underground. It was what won her the hearts of so many monsters. In hindsight, it was partly why Sans and Frisk were never really close friends- he always felt like he was being scrutinized and studied around her, and he unconsciously shied away from it. Away from her. 

He realized suddenly that he had not replied to Frisk in a while. She had turned away from him and was on her own phone, scrolling through something, but he still had that impression she was studying him. Like she had taken into account every word he said or didn’t say and was analyzing it. It felt invasive.

“SANS! HUMAN!”

Papyrus and Undyne had returned. Sans and Frisk stood up and joined them.

“Papyrus, you can’t do that without telling anyone!” The reprimanding words were contradicted by the relief in Frisk’s voice.

“I wasn’t planning on it!” Papyrus protested. “But the human children were telling me how fun it was!!! I had to see!!!”

“It was pretty awesome,” Undyne said. “in Papyrus’ defense. It even had a swing! And a contraption where people can LAUNCH each other into the sky!!”

“Are you talking about a seesaw?” Frisk said, alarmed. “Undyne, you didn’t launch anybody, did you?”

“NO!! WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT?” Undyne sweated. “Anyways, the point is, LISTEN TO YOUR BROTHER!! YOU CAN’T LEAVE WITHOUT TELLING ANYONE!! YOU PUNK! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, A FUNCTIONING ADULT??”

“Please don’t noogie the skeleton,” Papyrus complained as Undyne rubbed her knuckles on his head. 

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving,” Frisk said. “Do you mind if we go get something to eat?” 

They ended up going to the food court and grabbing some Panda Express. While they were waiting for their orders, he realized something. The bottle of Lexapro had disappeared from his jacket pocket. He had been so out of it, he hadn’t noticed it had been missing at all. 

Had Frisk noticed it was there when she was rummaging for his phone? Had she thrown it in the trash, or had she kept it? Why hadn’t she told him? Why did she need to take it in the first place anyways? 

In some ways, Sans knew her. But in many ways, he didn’t recognize the person standing beside him at all. 

He could have said something to her. Asked her about it. But he was exhausted by today’s events. 

He would ask her about it later. 

 

Chapter 7: in which many things happen

Summary:

... some of which are good, but most of which is bad.

Notes:

hello!!!! sorry for the hold up ^^ ; i ended up having to cut this chapter in half bc it got away from me in length, lord ...

tw : talks of suicide, implied sexual abuse, dark heavy depression shit.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

And just like that, April 4th crept in. 

Sans wouldn’t say he felt excited, exactly- how excited could one be, attending a party where he guessed he’d be reviled, trying to sus out who could be the possible monster killer? 

But there was definitely nervous energy springing around inside him when he awoke the morning of. He was anticipating it. He went downstairs to go brush his teeth and was greeted by Papyrus and Frisk in the dining room; there was the sweet smell of pancakes and syrup in the air. 

“Goo’morphinhg, brofah!” Papyrus said through a wad of pancakes, grinning childishly at him. Frisk nodded from the kitchen, flipping a pancake from her pan. 

“Morning, bro,” Sans said, sliding into the kitchen, hovering behind her to peer at her making the pancakes. “Hey. Gimme some of that good stuff, kid.”

“You forgot to say the magic word,” Frisk scoffed. 

“My bad.” Sans cleared his throat. “The magic word.” 

“Oh my god, get out of my face,” she grumbled, and Sans laughed. “If I could hit you with this pan at a less awkward angle, I would.”

“Aww. What’s the matter? Pan’t take a joke?” Seeing the murderous look on Frisk’s face, he murmured a quick “thanks” and scurried out with his plate of pancakes. 

After breakfast, they all headed over to The Greatest General Store Ever!!. They would have to close early that day since Sans and Frisk had to attend the recruitment party later that evening. 

Which was clearly bothering Frisk more than it was bothering him. She was practically doing laps from the amount she was pacing. Endless circles around the backroom; Sans wondered how she wasn’t dizzy. When it was time to go, Sans called her name, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“’Kay, kid, ya gotta chill,” Sans said as he was locking up; Papyrus was impatiently waiting for a distance away. “Relax. Everything is gonna be fine.”

“You suck at this reassuring thing, you know?” Frisk said, but gone was her usual banter-y tone. She seemed genuinely nervous. 

“Frankly, I don’t like yer negative energy. I am a great reassure-er.” Sans eyed her. “You were fine when you were lying to those ladies from a few weeks back, remember?”

“That was different.” Frisk tugged nervously at the ends of her hair. “If I failed, then oh well, there were plenty of other leads and options we could have explored. Now if I mess up and they catch us- oh my god, Sans, we might die.”

“’N here I thought Paps was the melodramatic one between us.”

“I am not kidding, Sans. We are literally walking into a lion’s den full of suspects.” 

“It ain’t that bad.” When Frisk shot him a disbelieving look, Sans revised his approach. "Look, I got yer back, kiddo. If you stumble, I'll catch ya. Alright?"

She looked uncertain. "Really?" 

"Sure. But I won't like it." Sans gave an exaggerated yawn, winking at her. "Don't make me do all the work, ya know? I'm supposed to be the lazybones, not you."

"You’re an asshole,” Frisk said, but she rolled her eyes, some of her good humor back. 

5 o’clock rolled in, and Sans was adjusting the cuffs of his jacket when Frisk came downstairs. 

They had decided Papyrus would stay over at Toriel’s that night; it would be the safest place for him to be, in case something went wrong or someone followed them home. Sans had been drilling Papyrus with what to say once he got there with moderate success (“And what d’ya say if Toriel asks ya why you came over?” “Sans went to a completely obscure and lame party all by his lonesome self and he was too ashamed for me to see him.” “... I mean, that works.”).

When Frisk came down the stairs, she was half-covering her face in embarrassment, walking awkwardly down the steps. The long sapphire dress wrapped around her throat; from the neckline, it followed her body down and spiraled smoothly around her ankles. Her sleeves were made of a light blue, translucent fabric with flowers embroidered on them. 

It wasn’t because she looked bad in it or anything. She looked objectively nice. But it was just so not decidedly Frisk that Sans’ first reaction was to laugh.

Of course, Sans wasn’t that much of an asshole no matter what Frisk said, so his second reaction was to swallow the laugh down.

“Don’t,” Frisk grumbled. 

“I wasn’t even gonna say anything.”

“You’re thinking it.”

“’M thinking that’s yer insecurity talking, not me.”

“HUMAN!!” Papyrus jumped up and down, absolutely gaping at Frisk, which only compounded Frisk’s embarrassment. “YOU ARE… YOU LOOK LIKE A HUMAN ENCHANTRESS!!”

She garbled out something that sounded like ohmygodsansletsgoalready and scurried out the door to where Undyne was waiting with the car. 

Chuckling, Sans guided Papyrus out the door and into Undyne’s car.

If Papyrus was bad, Undyne was even worse.

“WHAT IF THE KILLER SHOWS UP AT THE PARTY?” Undyne shrieked as soon as they dropped off Papyrus. “HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO KILL THEM WITH YOUR LEGS WRAPPED UP IN THAT… THAT THING?” 

“Frisk has heels on,” Sans offered unhelpfully. “She could probs stab them to death with those.”

“Sans,” Frisk said.

“What? Those are killer heels,” Sans said, and Frisk buried her face into her hands. “Five inches, Undie. Five. Inches.”

“A suitable length for a suitable knife replacement,” Undyne conceded. “But still. BE VIGILENT! And if anything happens, call me. I’ll come help murder them!”

“Undie, yer a cop.”

“I refuse to stand corrected! I meant what I said!” Undyne screeched the car to a halt; they had parked a distance away from the church. Undyne was afraid of cameras being set up around the perimeter; she didn’t want to give them away in case anyone recognized her to be an officer. “Alright, you losers. Go out there and KILL THEM! FIGURATIVELY AND MAYBE LITERALLY!”

“Stay safe, Undyne,” Frisk said, closing the door. Undyne gave her a brief thumbs up, flashing them both a terrifying smile before gunning it down the road.

“Okay,” she said, lifting up the hem of her dress, her smile flattening to a grimace. “Let’s go.” 

Sans and Frisk had already come up with a game plan; in the weeks before the party, they had managed to snag an interior of the Xienthyst church thanks to Undyne, and what the event would entail, thanks to another round of chatting with the ladies down on Briars Street. Actually, Frisk and the rest of the women had become quite good friends by this point; Frisk had agreed to meet them sometime during the party. This meant Sans and Frisk would end up confronting Alfred, who was Elizabeth’s husband. 

The Xienthyst Church looked more like a castle in Sans’ opinion; the walls were a light green-grey, and there appeared to be towers; a giant one led to a silver bell. The huge double oak doors were opening, and there was a steady, trickling stream of humans and a few monsters entering the gates. The courtyard, which Sans and Frisk were entering now, was a hullabaloo of noise and activity; people entering and chatting and picking up papers and brochures.

“Stay close,” Frisk muttered, grabbing Sans’ arm and practically dragging him through the crowds. Immediately, her shuttered expression opened, artificial sunlight in her eyes, and she immediately started chatting to someone she didn’t know to her right. 

It was amazing how she did that, just turned on and off a persona, adjusting herself to be the most engaging and presentable to someone. Sans hung back, letting her do most of the talking, interjecting now and again with questions or remarks of his own. 

They were trying to gather some information and background of the attendees. After talking with a few of the attendees, they came to a conclusion:

Many of them were anti-monster. Upon this revelation, Frisk immediately switched her tune and changed her story- they were no longer married now, but mere work buddies. Frisk had been interested in Xienthysm for a while, and Sans was her ride; he was only there for the snacks. 

Anyone who didn’t know Frisk wouldn’t have been able to see the ember of anger buried under the layers of smiles. But it was there, and it was burning. It was a very good thing Frisk had had years of practicing her very political way of addressing people she didn’t like or disagree with as an Ambassador, otherwise she would have very well exploded.

Frisk and Sans had migrated to the corner of the room, where Frisk struck up another conversation with another person.

“Hey! You wouldn’t happen to know where the food table is, would you? God, I am famished.” 

The man turned around and laughed, smiling warmly at her. “Well, it is right around dinner time, no? Unfortunately the banquet doesn’t start until 6 after the speech.” 

“Until 6? But that’s so long away,” Frisk groaned. “What’s the speech about again?”

“Just about the Xienthyst ideals, the types of things they do. You know, trying to lure people in.”

They laughed like what he’d said was a joke.

“When’s the speech?” Frisk asked.

“It’s starting in about-” the man checked his watch. “-15 minutes.”

“Got it. Got it.” Frisk crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. “Well, I guess I’ll just starve to death until then.” 

He laughed again, then leaned in as though to share a secret. “Well, if you’re really hungry, I can get you something.”

Frisk’s eyes widened, like a doe’s. “What? How?” 

“I’m staff here.”

“What?” Frisk let out a surprised giggle. “I had no idea. You don’t look like staff.”

This was a complete lie. Someone earlier had pointed to the direction where the man was telling them that he was staff here. 

“What do I look like then?” 

Ew. He was trying to flirt with her.

Frisk was leaning in, her eyes bright with false interest; her body language screamed captivated. “You look like someone who was about to break the rules for a girl you just met,” Frisk said, laughing, shoving him lightly. “I don’t think you’re allowed to sneak a visitor food.”

“Hmm,” the man said, laughing too. “I can make an exception for you.”

Man. This was cringe. Sans didn’t want to have to witness this, no matter how crucial it was for the mission to establish connections with Xienthyst members. 

Frisk was good at talking to people; Sans was good at sneaking away from people. So in a very Sans-like fashion, he slowly snuck away from Frisk and the man, deciding instead to do something more useful and scout out the numerous rooms. 

He had just left the courtyard and was pushing past the crowd into the main room when he got a text from Frisk.

 

kid

Sans 

Oh my god where are you? I cant find you

Hello???

sans??? 

funny story actually

i left

YOU WHAT

i left u guys alone* sorry

i wudnt actually leave lol 

Omg why would you do that 

bc u guys were getting frisky 

haha get it

Why is everything a joke to you

Even with the lives of all the monsters in the city at stake you make the 

DUMBEST joke ever. 

comic relief is essential 4 survival

but actually tho it feels weird to just stand there n like

idk stare at u

so i left lol dw im doing smth useful

Like what???

espionage 

 

“Hey! You!” 

Oops. 

Sans turned around to see a frowning woman approach him. “This corridor is off-limits to guests. I’m sorry, but I’m going to ask that you leave.”

“Uh,” Sans said, pointing behind her at the streamline of guests coming in. “Then who’re they?”

“Those are for registered or registering members,” the woman replied, looking as though she had swallowed a lemon whole. “Please stop being difficult and leave the premises.” 

Sans merely raised an eyebrow and walked away. When he noticed the woman had left, he immediately teleported inside. 

It was a good thing he was short, shorter than most humans; he didn’t feel like drawing attention to security. Then he realized-

 

broooooo there aint no way

kid where r u rn

 

kid

Im still stuck with jeremy

Where you ABANDONED ME

k well theyre giving this speech rn 

its like 

all propaganda type stuff

get over here

WHERE R U

 

Sans gave her directions (albeit they were very vague directions). After a few minutes of furious text messages and confusion, Frisk found her way back to Sans. By then, the speech was already halfway done.

“Where’d Jeremy go?” Sans asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy,” Frisk shot back, folding her arms, clearly still miffed at the fact Sans had, quote “abandoned” her.

The woman who was speaking must have been the organizer of the event, or perhaps someone higher up in the church politics; she wore a simple silver dress that hugged her body down to her ankles, her chestnut hair tucked elegantly into a low bun. Silver earrings dangled low from her eyes. 

However, no amount of dazzling jewelry could dim the shine from her eyes. Sans knew that look very well. It was the eyes of a believer, glossed over with faith. Someone with true conviction.

Faith, Sans wondered, or fanatic? 

“... and we cannot let this current situation go unaddressed any longer. Now, more than ever, lost souls need to be reminded of how truly special they are, especially in a society which insists on de-valuing them. This is not the life Xiene would have wanted for Her children- She would have wanted us to be happy, joyous… confident in our identities. And we at the Xienthyst church want to empower our brothers and sisters, old and new, to revel in those goddess-given identities. We want to give you a safe space to freely express and explore your identities, and we want to help nourish and encourage them.”

“What a bunch of shit,” Frisk murmured. Her face was paler; her expression was one of a person caught off-guard. 

“Woah, kiddo, watch yer language,” Sans murmured back, jokingly elbowing her. “We’re in a holy place.”

At this, Frisk scoffed, her expression lightening up a little before souring again at the sound of tumultuous applause from the audience for the speech. Without a word, she turned around and began to head towards the exit. Eyebrows raised at Frisk’s sudden departure, he made to follow her. 

Eventually, he caught up with her; she had exited the room and had taken a sharp left into a random other room- instantly their ears were flooded with the sound of radio pop, glitzy and electric. It was deafening. There were people all around them; the smell of sweat and smoke and bodies was thick in the air. 

“Kid.” 

She would not turn around. She would not look at him.

His instinct was to grab her shoulder, to stop her; but deciding against it, remembering her reactions. Instead, he teleported right in front of her, arms folded.

Frisk almost ran into him; she stumbled a few steps back, hair falling in front of her face, obscuring her expression.

Sans exhaled softly, shoving his hands into his pockets and gazing at her. It was pretty clear that the speech was bothering Frisk. Sans knew already that Frisk felt a deep responsibility for these kind of anti-monster sentiments as the Ambassador; he saw it before with the women down in Briars Street. 

But now they were imbedded deep in enemy territory. 

Now wasn’t the place to break down. 

“C’mere,” he said suddenly, holding out his hand.

At this, Frisk jerked her head up, her eyes reflecting the multi-colored lights above them. Reflexively, her hand slotted against his, warm and sweaty. “Wh-?”

He began to pull her towards the center of the room; bemused, Frisk let him lead her. 

They were directly under the disco ball placed in the middle of the room; fragments of white light rained down on them. 

“Sans, what’re we doing here?”

Sans turned around, grinning at the then 19-year old Frisk. He had dragged her and Papyrus out of the stuffy office full of delegates. Fragments of white snow were raining down upon them, nestling themselves on Frisk’s dark head. Papyrus had run ahead of them, trying to catch snowflakes in his mouth. 

“Having fun.” Sans shrugged. “Don’t ya miss just having fun sometimes?”

“Sans,” Frisk said to him now, confused. “What’re we doing here?”

Sans let go of her hand, a mischievous spark in his eye. “Having fun.” 

He immediately teleported out of her line of sight. 

Frisk blinked, then shrieked, whirling around; Sans had re-appeared and jabbed at her. The music started up again, heavy drums and trumpets. My Type, Saint Motel. 

And Sans started to dance.

Okay, ‘dance’ was a bit of exaggeration. And also maybe a pity lie. Sans didn’t dance in front of people. The only time he’d dance was with Papyrus in the privacy of his own home; they had dance battles on the Wii machine sometimes with Just Dance. Dancing required a lot of moving (which Sans didn’t like) and coordinated movement and concentration (which Sans liked less) and stamina through exhaustion (Sans hated). Most of the dances Sans knew either derived from memes- Fortnite dances, Baby Shark, etc- or from said Just Dance dance battles. 

It was when Sans busted out the floss did Frisk give in and burst into rancorous laughter. 

“You look so fucking stupid,” Frisk wheezed, her hand trembling from the sheer force of her cackles as she tried to reach into her purse for her phone to presumably record him. 

“Not as stupid as you,” Sans challenged. “You owe me 20 bucks.”

“WHAT. How?”

“I never forget a deal, kiddo.”

“The deal?” Frisk spluttered. “The dancing bet? That was made under the conditions of the individual having dancing talent!”

“I don’t see you dancin’, though.” Sans moon-walked around her, quirking a brow. “Guess that means I win.”

“Hell no,” Frisk said, rolling up her sleeves.

“Kiddo means business!” Sans let out a whoop that the crowd echoed. 

Under any other circumstances, it probably would have been cringey. Actually, it was cringey. It was two people who were very subpar at dancing trying to beat each other at dancing. It was stupid and dumb and served no purpose for furthering their mission. 

But it was fun. 

Don’t ya miss having fun sometimes?

Frisk’s face was shining with both sweat and joy; she was laughing at Sans’ attempt to pop-and-lock, and laughing at herself and everyone else who had joined in. Whatever doubts and negative feelings that had been weighing Frisk down evaporated into the dark, dank room. 

Then, the oddest thing happened- there was a strange pause. It was like time had stopped and begun to crawl very, very slowly. It was similar to the feeling Sans had when he was on the phone with Papyrus, because the whole world went dark and quiet around him. But it wasn’t the same.

Because it was with Frisk.

 He could feel warmth radiating off of her- human warmth, the kind generated from blood and organs, not from magic. The fluid movements of her limbs pulled by sleek tissue and muscle. Her eyes, dark and darting, full of light and depth. The flickering light bending off her skin, or absorbing into her dark dress. Suddenly, it didn’t look awkward or out of place on her at all. It fit her. 

Then the sounds of loud cheering came roaring back, and whatever pause that had happened passed and was forgotten.

Eventually they stumbled off the dance floor; Frisk had taken off her heels since they were hurting her feet, and was rubbing the heels while holding both shoes in her free hand. They headed over to the corner of the room, where they were actually serving drinks; nothing crazy, just juice and cocktails and water.

“I won,” Sans said calmly as Frisk took a sip of water, which she promptly spat back out in outrage.

“In what plane of existence,” Frisk spluttered. “In what alternate universe are you living in where you won?”

“This one,” Sans replied. “You’re a very good Ambassador, kid, but you’re kinda mid on the dance floor.” 

“I will strangle you. And when you are dead, I will do a kinda mid dance on top of your grave.”

“How sweet,” Sans replied, raising his glass of water. “To two very mid dancers.”

Frisk rolled her eyes, clinking her cup against his and taking another sip. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Izzie?”

Frisk stiffened.

At first, Sans thought the man headed towards them was talking to someone else, namely whoever “Izzie” was; but it was clear from the way his eyes fell onto Frisk that he was looking for her. 

He was a tall guy; maybe 5’11, with dark hair and eyes lighter than the sky. He was wearing a grey bomber jacket and khakis, a loose smile dangling from his lips. “By god, it is you.”

Frisk turned her head away from him, stiffly drinking from her cup. 

“Never thought I’d see you at one of these.” He had a red Solo cup in his hands; he took a long drink, and when he spoke, his breath smelled like whiskey. “Never thought I’d see you again, period. Except maybe on the TV. Congrats on being famous, by the way. Ambassador to the Monsters- that’s a steep title.”

He spoke to Frisk- Izzie?- like they were old friends, but Frisk was practically shrinking under his words. 

“I see you brought a friend.” The man held out a hand, flashing white teeth. “I’m Leo. I intern here.” 

“Sans,” Sans said, talking his hand and giving it a firm shake. Don’t look at her, don’t look at her. “I’m uh, her ride.” 

“Is that so?” Leo let go and set down his cup, folding his arms. “Didn’t know Izzie had friends.”

“What d’ya mean by that?”

Leo shrugged. “She just wasn’t a very social kid. Kept more to herself, y’know? Which is a shame.” A trailing gaze on Frisk. “She’s a truly lovely person once to get to know her.”

“... Uh huh.” Sans didn’t like the vibes he was getting from this guy, or the weird, possessive look that crossed his face everytime he looked at Frisk. “’Scuse me if I’m prying, but you know each other how?”

“Oh! Iz never told you about me, huh?” Leo laughed. “Us two, we go way back. I think- pretty much a little over a decade ago is when we first met? She was this little thing in the rickety orphanage by the mountain. I was volunteering there at the time. We hit it off, and-” Another shrug. “She became my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. Sans let that word sink in. 

In all the time Sans had known Frisk- which was a pretty long time- she had never mentioned dating anyone. Or being interested in dating anyone. 

Sans wasn’t stupid. From the way Frisk was hiding behind him, to her habits of flinching when touched, to this weirdo who claimed to have known Frisk during her orphanage days- it was clear there was most likely some underlying connection. 

He was, however, curious. He wanted to know more about Frisk’s past. And here was someone who Frisk knew intimately, longer than he had, with insights in a past Sans would never have.

His eyes fell on Frisk. She was trembling, her eyes squeezed tight, lip bitten, clearly trying to block out what was happening. 

Leo was still talking. “We’d been dating for, I guess two-ish years when she… well. When she, er, fell into your world? She went missing for months. Everyone at the orphanage was so worried. Then out of nowhere we hear you’ve become some kind of monster rep. Crazy stuff.” Leo nudged Frisk, chuckling. “You’ve been a pretty bad girl. It’s a good thing you never came back, because Miss Penelope would have definitely killed you.” 

Frisk’s grip on her cup tightened so much the plastic twisted. 

“I’m thinkin’ I need some air,” Sans announced loudly, slamming down his cup; carefully, he rested a gentle hand on Frisk’s back. She didn’t flinch. Cautiously, Sans began steering her towards the exit. “It was good to meet ya, Leo. We’ll see you around.”

“Wait a sec,” Leo said slowly, something dawning on his expression. “You two. You’re dating?”

“No,” Sans said shortly. 

“Pfft, you don’t have to lie to me. Iz can’t keep anything from me.” Leo smiled at her. You know when a parent tells a child that a task is impossible to do, but the child is stubborn and tries to do it anyway, and fails? Do you know the look on that parent’s face when they see it happen? It was that kind smile; the smugly benign, condescending calm kind of smile. The smile that says I know you better than you know yourself. “She’s a firecracker, isn’t she? But not with boys she likes. When she’s with them- well, of course you know. She’s pretty submissive.” 

Frisk stilled.

And then- all of a sudden- before Sans even had time to speak, react, think- Frisk was on Leo.

She stormed up to him, swinging her heel at him as if it were a weapon. Which it was- despite Sans’ earlier joking, 5 inch heels were no joke. Leo scrambled back, and everyone started shrieking when Frisk discarded her heel off to the side and summoned her signature red knife. 

The bottom hem of her dress was shredded now, ripped and torn from the amount of long, stretching movements of her legs. She tossed the knife, and it hit the wall beside Leo’s head. The blade dissolved and reformed back in her head. 

Leo was shoving people aside for the exit, overturning tables and practically throwing people in Frisk’s path. She stepped over, avoided, or dodged all of them. 

They were attracting attention. This was very bad. Frisk had somehow managed to grab hold of Leo’s jacket, and they were tusseling against each other on the wall, knife discarded someone, both of them using their fists and hands. Blood splattered; Sans had no idea whose was whose. They were both shouting things at each other that made no sense to Sans.

He’d done so many teleports today; he could feel his mana draining. But he had enough left for an emergency, and this was clearly an emergency. He grabbed Frisk’s shoes, strode over to her, grabbed her by the shoulder, and-

They stumbled into each other; Sans had teleported them to the first place he had thought there would be no people; the big tower with the silver bell. 

“Shit!” Frisk yelled, kicking at the stone wall in frustration, then letting out a string of coloring expletives as she hopped around holding her foot.

“I don’t know what you expected, to be honest,” Sans said, sitting down and watching her. “You were kicking at rock with your bare foot.” 

“Shut up,” Frisk snapped.

Sans folded his arms and watched her silently, until she finally stopped and sat down next to him. He held up the pair of heels; she took them from him without a word.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly after a few more minutes of silence. 

“I know. S’okay.”

“It’s not, though.” Frisk closed her eyes, and a single drop of blood ran down her face like a tear. “Nothing’s okay.” 

She was quiet for a couple more minutes, and when she spoke, she spoke all at once.

“Have you ever just… wanted to die, Sans?” She looked up at the silver bell, towards her reflection staring muddily back at her. “And I don’t mean for relief or escape or like, depression or whatever. I mean- have you ever just wanted to die out of spite? Because I have. Sometimes I see people who have hurt me so bad, and part of me just wants to end it all, just to see what their reaction is. I want to see how guilty they feel. And I want it to be a lot. I hope it’s a lot; I hope it’s enough that it ruins their life forever like how they ruined my life forever.” Frisk stared back down at her shoes and let out a strange laugh. “I sound crazy, don’t I? I sound insane.” 

“You don’t,” Sans said immediately, although she kind of did. Maybe crazy wasn’t the right word. Desperate was more like it. 

“I do.” Frisk hugged her arms. “It’s not- I’m not normal. I’m not even coping unhealthily in the normal way. I do feel sad and stuff- I have flashbacks and nightmares, but I… there’s also this twisted bad feeling that’s like, beyond being angry or hurt. It’s like… I kinda like it.” 

Sans shifted closer, lowering his voice. He had no idea why he was being quieter; it was just that talking about these kinds of things, with her kind of tone… it made him uncomfortable to be speaking out loud about it. “What d’ya mean?” 

“I like being hurt,” Frisk clarified, rocking back and forth. “I like having a reason for being messed up. I like being messed up. Whenever I’m sad, or mad and I do something really awful because of it, it’s easier to excuse it because I can say, I’m a messed up person. This is what messed up people do. There’s this weird contrast. People expect less of me, but think more highly of me because I’ve gone through a ‘struggle’ or whatever. I expect less of me, and it’s… not quite easier, but lighter, almost? And even though moving on sounds really nice, I don’t think I actually want it. Because… because who am I, if I’m not hurting? There would be no more excuse for when I lash out or- or or when I do anything really shitty.” 

Sans didn’t know what to say. 

“God, sorry, that was a lot out of nowhere.” Frisk gave a shaky laugh, wiping blood off her face. 

“Nah. Don’t apologize. Yer a very monologue-y person.” Sans bumped his knee with hers. 

Frisk looked mortified. “I am?”

“Totally. But it works.” Sans gestured between them. “I have no words, you have all of ’em. What a great team we make.”

“You’re basically telling me I talk too much.”

“’S not a bad thing. I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.” Sans paused, then “From what I heard, it sounds like ya kinda validate yerself through your mental health struggles”

Frisk started. “What?” 

“That’s kinda what it sounded like to me.” Sans shrugged. “You said it yerself- people respect ya more if you got a sad story to share about yerself. Maybe you tie that respect- your mental struggle- with yer self worth. If yer not sad, yer not worth anything. Is that kinda right?” 

Frisk was silent, and for a second, Sans thought he had it all wrong. But then, she cleared her throat, and she said almost inaudibly, “... Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right.” 

“’Course I am. ’M always right.” At this, Frisk snorted, and Sans grinned. “Let me ask you another thing, though.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting advised about emotions by an emotionally-constipated skeleton,” Frisk said dryly, but she was smiling. “Hit me.” 

“Just this once, because you’re sad, I’m gonna ignore that.” Sans tilted his head. “D’ya think happy people are stupid?”

Frisk recoiled. “What?” 

“D’ya think when people are happy, they’re being stupid? That they’ve gone through less, and you’ve gone through more? Like, the reason people can be happy is because they just haven’t experienced anything?” 

“Oh. Wow, um.” Frisk cleared her throat.

“You don’t hafta answer my question out loud if it’s too uncomfortable. Just think about it.” Sans brushed off some lint off his pant leg. “But I’d like to add one more thing to yer roster of assumptions.”

Frisk rolled her eyes. “Do I even get to say no?”

“No.” Sans gave her a cheeky grin. “Ya should be thanking me. Therapy is so expensive nowadays.”

“Sans.”

“My services are for free. And vastly superior.”

“Just tell me what you wanted to tell me,” Frisk said, in such a long-suffering voice he almost laughed.

“Being happy doesn’t mean yer stupid.” Sans met her eyes, the weight of his gaze sincere and open. “It means yer strong, kiddo. You saw all that bad- maybe you still see it- but you can also see all that good for what it’s worth. And losing yer identity?” Sans put his arms on her shoulders. “Kid. I’ve known you for 10 years. Whether yer happy, or yer sad, I’ll still know you. ’Kay? I promise.”

Frisk, who had been intently listening, suddenly averted her gaze, blinking rapidly. “Thought you said you never made promises,” she managed, her throat sounding closed up. 

“I did?” Sans said, surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Sans thought. “I forgot I said that, not gonna lie.”

A laugh exploded from Frisk’s mouth, and Sans; mouth quirked up into a smile at the sound of it.

“Ah, well. Maybe I did say that. Doesn’t change anything.” Sans shrugged, leaning against the stone wall, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. “I can make an exception for you.” 

“Thank you, Sans,” Frisk whispered, hugging herself tighter. “... I really appreciate what you said.”

“No problem. That’s what friends are for.” Sans winked at her. “Not bad for a, uh… ‘emotionally constipated skeleton’, eh?”

Frisk shoved him, and he laughed. 

“Alright, we gotta go,” Sans said eventually, rising and brushing himself off. “The banquet’s gotta be in full swing. If we still wanna meet up with Elizabeth, maybe see Alfred, now’s the time. Unless ya wanna head home? I could take it from here.” 

“No.” Frisk shook her head, rising as well and smoothing down her shredded dress. “We’re in this together. Partners, right?”

“Partners.” Sans smiled at her- then his eyes drifted elsewhere, above her face. “Wait. One sec, kiddo.”

“What? What is it?” Frisk said, perplexed. “Is there still blood on my face? Or-”

“Nah, nah, it’s just… yer hair. It’s kind of a mess.”

“Oh, god.” Immediately her hands flew to her head and began adjusting. “How does it look now?”

“Looks like a confused birdnest.” Frisk shrieked. “Relax, kid. Put yer hands down, I gotcha.”

Reluctantly, Frisk lowered her hands and allowed Sans to take over. He ran his fingers through her tangled hair, straightening the ends to let it rest in semi-waves touching her shoulder blades. The sensation of human hair against his fingers was dry, rustling; but it also felt fine and delicate. He was careful when brushing out her hair. 

That funny feeling happened again; the one where the world blackened, and the moment seemed to zoom in; Sans could hear her breathing. He could smell the blood and dried sweat and perfume from off her body. 

Slowly, carefully, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stepped back. Frisk blinked twice, coming out of a reverie of her own. 

“Good. Now that we know the local birds won’t be nesting in yer hair-” Frisk groaned in the middle of his sentence, causing him to laugh. “-shall we be on our way?”

“Yes, please. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.” 

“Okay. Guess that’s enough horsing around for me.” Frisk made a face and began descending down the stairs exiting the tower. Laughing, Sans followed her down. 

They never talked about Leo, or who he was, or what he meant to her. And that was okay. To Sans, that was all unimportant- she knew what happened, and if she wanted to tell him, she would. And if he never knew, that was okay. 

Sans was okay with that.

 

Notes:

aaaaAAAAGH

ARE YOU READY FOR THE DEPRESSION BECAUSE IF NOT TOO BAD !! ITS COMING FOR U

frisk backstory time :] what're ur theories on who leo is?

Chapter 8: in which monsters resurface

Summary:

... and you know what kind of 'monsters' we mean.

Notes:

hi oh my gosh it's been!!!! a sec!!!

school got away w me fr

uhhh HERE'S ANOTHER CHAPTER !!

tw // uh ptsd flashbacks!! implied abuse !!

please take care for yourselves <3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The banquet was indeed in full swing. 

Frisk and Sans thought now it was an appropriate time to put on their masks. Since it was a Masquerade Ball, people were milling around wearing masks- although of course it was optional, no one was mandating if they did or they didn’t. But considering all the fun stuff that went down in the dance room only 30 minutes ago, they decided they better mask up just as a precaution.

Speaking of Leo, he was nowhere to be seen. Which was odd. Also, security didn’t seem to be out for them, which was even odder. But, Sans wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth- this was a good opportunity, no matter how suspicious. 

Frisk was straightening her dress and Sans was complaining how itchy the mask was when they ran into Elizabeth and Alfred.

Elizabeth was wearing a very lovely red velvet dress, and Alfred was wearing a black suit. They looked like a very respectable pair; one would have never guessed they were both horrible people. 

Alfred was a 50-year old man with a dark receding hairline and a stoic face; he gave both of them stiff nods. Elizabeth embraced Frisk, determinedly ignoring Sans, which was fine by him.

“Oh my God, you look gorgeous!” Elizabeth exclaimed. Frisk gave her a smile and hugged her back, echoing the same sentiment.

“So this is your husband, then!” Frisk said, turning to Alfred with a bright expression. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Alfred said bluntly. 

There was an awkward silence, and then Elizabeth interjected. 

“Why don’t we all share a table together?”

They crossed the gilded room to seat themselves on the far right. Sans and Frisk sat across from Elizabeth and Alfred. 

“I see that you brought Sans along after all!” Elizabeth began immediately as they took their seats; she gave an unpleasantly high-pitched laugh and clapped her manicured hands together. “I thought that this was something that he, uhm- wasn’t interested in?” 

“Oh, yes.” Frisk imitated Elizabeth’s laugh. “He wasn’t. Still isn’t! But he heard about the banquet and couldn’t help himself, you know? I mean, this is extravagant. I would have never imagined this was a recruitment campaign for a church, let alone one held every month!”

“Isn’t it?” Elizabeth beamed, patting her husband on the arm. “It’s amazing how we get to be a part of it all every time it happens. Even if you’re just pitching in to blow up a balloon or hand out flyers, you can’t help but feel so much pride when you see it all come together so well.”

“Are Abby and Zoe not coming?” Frisk inquired.

Elizabeth sighed. “No, no… caught up with work. Oh, it’s such a shame. They would have loved seeing you.” 

“I would have loved to see them, too.” Frisk’s eyes drifted over to Alfred. “But on the flip side, I am so happy to finally meet you, Alfred. I mean, your wife has told me so many things about you.”

“All good things, of course!” Elizabeth chirped, and Frisk and Elizabeth both laughed at that. Alfred tried for a smile; it looked more like a grimace. 

“So,” Frisk said, clearing her throat. “I hear you’re a police officer?”

“Oh.” Alfred gave a hesitant nod. “Yes.” 

“That is just so brave of you.” Frisk nodded along. “Serving our city, keeping us safe, it’s wonderful. Especially given the recent monster killings.”

Alfred stiffened further. Elizabeth, tilting her head, said, “Are those recent, though? Monsters killing humans is hardly a new phenomenon.” 

Sans spoke up. “It’s actually an issue of monsters being killed off.”

“Oh?” Elizabeth turned to Sans. “Monsters killing off monsters then, hm… well, I wouldn’t say I’m surprised.” 

Sans crossed his arms. “How do you know it’s a monster causing this?”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Well, how do you know it’s a human that did it?”

“’Cause humans suck,” Sans said easily. 

“I beg your pardon,” Elizabeth said with a fake, airy laugh. “But isn’t your wife human as well?”

Sans leaned forward, eyebrows raised. “She is.”

“But then-”

“That’s my point.” Sans smirked. “She does the most sucking.” 

Frisk began violently choking; she bent over, coughing into her fist and shielding her face from view. Sans continued to smile serenely at Elizabeth, not once breaking eye contact.  

Just then, an energetic young lady came swinging by, introducing herself as the waiter. Introducing herself as Stacy, she clicked her pen and flipped over to a new page on her notepad. “Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Water,” Alfred said bluntly.

“I’ll take a glass of rose champagne,” Elizabeth said, folding her drink menu.

“... Give me a Bloody Mary,” Frisk said, her head in her hands.

“I’ll have a bottle of ketchup,” Sans said, and his answer was greeted with silence.

“Uh… okay. Water, rose champagne, a Bloody Mary, and… some ketchup? I’ll be right back with your order.” Stacy gave an awkward nod and bounded off. 

“Alfred would know who did it,” Frisk said, immediately picking up the conversation again. “The monster murders, I mean. You’re a cop, right? From what I’ve seen, you’re on about every monster case to pop up in the city.” 

Sans raised an eyebrow; he could have sworn Alfred stiffened. 

“Surely there’s some hidden connections between these cases? Why do they keep happening?” Frisk pressed. 

“You seem to be quite interested in these cases, miss,” Alfred said, and there was a note of warning in his flat tone. “I assure you, we have thoroughly investigated any connections-” 

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve thoroughly investigated with your colleagues on the case, who coincidentally also appear to be members of the Xienthyst Church,” Frisk cut in. 

“What’s going on?” Everyone’s eyes fell back onto Elizabeth, who had been watching this exchange with building alarm and confusion. 

“I think my lovely wife is accusing your lovely husband,” Sans replied, leaning back. “Of lovely police misconduct.” 

“What?” Elizabeth stuttered, her mouth dropping in shock and outrage. “My Alfred- no! That’s ridiculous!” 

“Is it, truly?” Frisk tilted her head. “Because I think it’s the furthest thing from ridiculous. I say it’s plausible. I have much respect, of course, for the police, but if there’s some sort of corruption within the police station, it would be a terribly dangerous decision to remain in this city. If it starts with him, where does it end? What other murders are you covering up?” 

Covering her tracks with Elizabeth while also implying something else with the cop. Color Sans impressed. 

“Be careful where you point those accusations towards, miss.” Alfred’s voice dipped lower. “People don’t like being blamed.”

“Unfortunately, justice is not always comfortable, and the truth is not always pretty.” Frisk folded her arms, leaning forward. “If you have nothing to hide, Officer Alfred, I think you would agree with me, as well.” 

They stared at each other darkly, neither tearing their gaze away, even as the waitress came back with their drinks.

“May I take your or-”

“A few more minutes,” Frisk deadpanned. 

“But-” 

“Bye,” Sans said, giving a little finger waggle. The waitress shot them an irritated look, then hurried off. 

Frisk casually slid her eyes from Alfred’s, taking a sip of her drink. A muscle jumped in Alfred’s jaw. 

“If we are to speak of… baseless accusations, and ulterior motives,” Alfred said in a shockingly measured voice, stirring the straw in the water glass. “Then let me make an uninformed guess. You are not who you appear to be as well.”

Frisk arched her brow. “I’m not?”

“You’re not.”

“Hm. How kind of a stranger to tell me he knows who I really am.” 

Alfred paused.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I know exactly who you are.” 

Ambassador Frisk. The unsaid words hung in the air. Sans could see Frisk stiffen, sit up straighter. Though she did not back down. “You know nothing about me.”

“I know that you’re so worked up about hypothetical monster killings.” Alfred laughed softly. “It’s like you want to, ah. Represent them.”

Frisk’s face hardened.

“Forgive me for caring. Some would say it’s a person’s duty to care.”

“Care for who, exactly?”

“Anywho who lacks it. Anyone who is defenseless and needs comfort.” Anger was bleeding into Frisk’s tone. “I don’t care what other people say, or believe. I will stand up to everyone who disagrees with me. Everyone.”

“And that would be your problem, miss.” Alfred stood, and Elizabeth mirrored him, although she looked quite confused. “Not knowing when to stand down. I bid you goodnight, now. It’s getting late and my wife and I should be returning home.”

He practically dragged Elizabeth out of the room, leaving Sans and Frisk to stare after them. Almost as if on cue, the waitress re-appeared.

“Are you done now?” she said in an aggrieved tone. “Would you be kind enough to let me do my job now? What do you four want?”

“Two, actually,” Frisk said absentmindedly, still staring off into the distance, before picking up the menu. She scanned the very first page and said the first thing she saw. “Chicken tenders.”

“Chicken tenders,” the waitress repeated.

“Yes. With ranch. To go.” Frisk gave Sans a tired look. “Do you want anything?” 

“Dinosaur chicken nuggets,” Sans said. 

“That’s not on the menu, sir-”

“Just get him dinosaur chicken nuggets,” Frisk said. “I’m sure you have some somewhere in your kitchen. Who doesn’t?” 

The waitress left for the third time, muttering something about impossible customers. Sans and Frisk sat in silence. 

“So that went well,” Sans began, just to say something, but Frisk gave a shake of her head.

“That could not have gone worse.”

“If you poke a sleeping bear, don’t be shocked when it bites your head off.” Sans shrugged. 

“How did he know me, though?” Frisk said blankly, raising her hand up to the edge of her mask, uncertainty coloring her voice.

While Frisk didn't look like a completely different person, it was extremely hard to correlate her with the Ambassador of 5 years back. So it was a bit strange he knew.

"He'd have to know you pretty well," Sans offered. "Maybe a stalker?" 

"Pffft. Maybe.” The brief flare of humor that sparked in Frisk’s voice died quickly. “At the very least, I got something out of it.”

“Which is?”

“An indirect confession. He knows I have something on him, and so he reacted with something on me. So at least this confirms we’re pursuing the right leads.” Frisk gave a grim smile. “On another note, he recognized me. So that’s bad. If he chooses to act on that knowledge-”

“I doubt he will. If he was going to, he would have done it ages ago.” Sans tried for a reassuring smile. “I don’t think ya got anything to worry about, kiddo.”

“Let’s hope not.” The waitress came by and dropped their food off, plastic boxes in bags. They both stood. After such an emotional rollercoaster of a night, Sans was ready to just hit the hay and call it a night. 

As they were leaving, Sans was dialing up Undyne to come pick them up. It kept ringing and ringing; 5 minutes and 11 missed calls later, they were beginning to worry. 

“Oh my God, something happened to Undyne. Oh my god oh my god.” Frisk looked near about to faint; her chest was heaving erratically, her hands clenching her arms so tight they were leaving marks. “They got to her- but how- but- it doesn’t make sense- there’s no way-”

Sans was near close to panicking as well, but for Frisk’s sake he reeled himself in. “Kiddo, I think we should-” the end of the line clicked; someone had picked up. He immediately put the phone to his ear and said tersely, “Hello?”

“Hello?” The voice on the other end was crackly with static, filled with bewilderment… and most definitely alive. Sans let out a giant, winding exhale, pulled the phone away, and put it on speaker. 

“Undyne?” Frisk whispered.

“Why are you punks actin’ like I died or something?” Undyne replied. 

Frisk exploded. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?!”

Undyne scoffed on the other line. “Are you KIDDING me? Do you not know how undercover police investigations work? I can’t have my phone on! If I’m supposed to catch the bad guy, what happens if my phone rings? I’ll get caught! I thought we went over this!” 

Frisk looked as though she were caught between immense anger and immense relief. “At least send us a- a confirmation text every once and a while that you’re alive!”

“BUT YOU DIDN’T SEND ME ONE!” Undyne protested.

“Undie’s got a fair point,” Sans said, and Frisk shot in an ugly look and snatched his phone out of his hand

“Just- did anything happen to you? At all?”

“Noooope! Not a thing! Heh, COWARDS! Always so predictable… and I was SO REVVED UP FOR A FIGHT!! But no. The streets were barren! Bah, spineless cowards. They are such COWARDS!” 

“Go home now,” Frisk snapped, ended the call, and tossed the phone back to Sans. Looping her arm impatiently around his, she jerked her head. “Teleport us already. I can’t stand being in this place any longer.”

“Yer the boss,” Sans said, and with a blink, they were gone. 

As soon as they came home, Frisk immediately went to the living room and opened her laptop. She began furiously drawing up plans and options. Sans, for his part, immediately went to go shower. Afterwards, he called Papyrus. He answered on the first ring.

“SANS!!” Papyrus shrieked from the other end. 

“Yo,” Sans replied, amusement bleeding into his voice. “How’re ya?”

“I am well! Queen Toriel and I did chores around the house! I became her bodyguard too!”

“You what?”

“I KNOW!!” Papyrus squealed. “I was in charge of fending off King Asgore. THE KING, SANS!”

“Was he tryna talk to Tori?”

“YES! He was very adamant that he speak to her. I told him-” Papyrus cleared his throat to sound more serious and gravel. “‘No, sir, you shall not pass.’”

“Very epic,” Sans said, grinning.

“Like Gandalf from that movie!!”

Sans laughed. “Was Tori okay with that?”

“No, actually. She kept grumbling about how annoying he was. I wanted to comfort her, but I wasn’t sure how to. So I made her spaghetti! She seemed to appreciate it.” 

“She actually ate it? Damn, Tori.” 

“Mhm! How was the party?”

“Ah, well. Ya know.” Sans thought back to Leo, Alfred, and his moment with Frisk on the tower. “Eventful.”

“I would certainly hope an event would be eventful!! Did you have fun?”

“... Yeah. I guess I kinda did.” Sans exited the bathroom, throwing the small towel he had in his hands across his shoulder. 

“Did the human have fun?”

Sans glanced down the hallway, where Frisk had not moved.

“Uh- yeah. Sure. Let’s say that.”

“Hmph. That’s good. I request you tell me everything in the morning!” In the background, there was some fumbling. “I have to go now Sans! I adhere to a strict bedtime. A skeleton needs his beauty rest!”

“Pfft. Okay. Tell Tori I said hi.”

“I will! Goodnight!!’ The call ended.

Using the end of the towel to rub his head clean, Sans crossed the hallway and hovered by the stairs, leaning on the railing. “Paps is okay.”

Frisk glanced up, the blue light from her screen reflecting in her eyes. “How is Toriel?”

“Annoyed, more ’n anything. Yer dear ol’ dad won’t stop bothering her.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” Frisk gave a soft laugh; then, her expression grew more tired. “You know… I get dad is just trying to mend things between him and mom. And I get that- well. He still loves her. But there comes a point when it’s just harassment, right? He needs to respect her space. He made a choice, and so did she.” 

“I gotta agree with ya. His Majesty is a little slow when it comes to boundaries.” Sans folded his arms. “Maybe you should talk some sense into him.”

“Wow. Very slick. But you know what I said. I’m just gonna solve this case, and poof, I’m gone again.”

“Doesn’t look like it’ll be ending very soon.” Sans tilted his head at her. “’Cause of the Church. I have plenty of time to convince ya to talk to yer parents one last time.” 

Frisk sniffed. “I stand by my convictions.”

“Even when they’re wrong?”

Frisk rolled her eyes. “It’s late, Sans. I’m tired.” 

Sans squinted his eyes at her. “Yer not gonna open that computer the second I head upstairs, are ya?”

“I told you, I’m tired.”

“Yer also a Grade-A liar.”

“Touche.” Frisk drew up her knees to her chest, looking up at him. “But not with you. You can trust me.” 

“Hmm.” Sans pretended to seriously consider it. “Yeah, nope, still don’t trust ya. I dunno, maybe it’s the five-year-disappearance-for-no-reason that’s throwing me off.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Not even human dads take that long getting the milk.”

“Good night, Sans,” Frisk said firmly, throwing the blanket over her face. Sans chuckled softly. 

“Night, kid.” Sans went to the light switch, flipped it off, then went upstairs. 

He went to bed having trouble sleeping, namely because his brain was buzzing very loudly. He had kept what had transpired that night mostly on the back burner of his mind, but Papyrus’ questions were making Sans think again. Did Leo have something to do with why Frisk disappeared? Was he harassing her? How was it possible Sans hadn’t run into Leo before? 

Which lead to more questions, especially about the Lexapro. When had Frisk gotten prescribed for them? It had to have been recent, right? Yet Sans didn’t think he remembered anything about that… had she been to a psychologist perhaps after she disappeared? 

Why did he care, exactly? 

He didn’t know. Irritated at this lack of knowledge, he fluffed his pillow and flipped it around so he could lay down on the cooler side. 

Caring for people, Sans knew, was very exhausting. Not only did it mean putting in effort, but it meant opening yourself up to getting hurt. And Sans didn’t really have a lot of energy or health to throw around, so caring for anybody was a really big deal for him. 

The red blinking of his alarm clock suddenly reminded him of the red lights of the lab. 

He physically shook his head. He didn’t want to think about the lab or Gaster right now.

Still… why did he care? For someone that yeah, he’d known for a decade, but hadn’t really known until a month ago? Someone who held secrets close to her heart and refused to open up, someone who was so unstable and hurting, someone who required so much work?

He pondered these questions until he fell into an uneasy sleep. 

 

He awoke to the sound of strangled cries. 

“Frisk,” he realized out loud, and immediately teleported downstairs. 

His entire body felt like it had been dunked into frigid water- they had followed us home somehow, it’s Papyrus all over again, I failed I failed I failed- but as his eyes flared blue and adjusted to the dark, he realized that whatever monster Frisk was fighting against was not a physical one. 

She had completely shredded the blanket- feathers and torn pieces of fabric fell around her. She had slid off the couch, cradling her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. She was shaking. 

At the sound of the teleportation, Frisk’s head snapped up; there was a red light in her eyes- in a flash, she had unfurled herself, and there was a glowing red knife in her hand- 

Sans jerked out of the way as she began slashing at him wildly, her moments clumsy and uncoordinated and aggressive. Her eyes were wild, glassy- like she wasn’t even seeing him. She was screaming things- words- Sans caught ‘ruined’, ‘dirty’, and ‘why’. 

There was no reasoning with her. He didn’t even try to. Instead, he focused, teleported behind her, and wrapped his arms around her, preventing her from moving and using the conjured knife she had. She bucked even harder, flinching and spasming under his touch, kicking at him. 

“LET GO OF ME!” she screamed, her voice tearing and scratching. “LETGOLETGOLETGO, I’M SORRY PLEASE IT HURTS STOP I’LL BE QUIET I’M TRYING IT’S LOUD LETGOPLEASEJUSTSTOPICAN’THELPIT-”

They had stumbled into the kitchen. Sans’ shoulder bumped into the light switch- the dim kitchen light turned on, bathing them in a soft yellow glow. He hit the wall, and slowly slid down, wrapping her tighter. “It’s me,” he murmured, over and over again. “Kiddo. It’s me. It’s me.” 

“Go away,” she moaned, trying to free herself; weakly, she kicked her feet. The knife hung loosely between her fingertips. “Let… go…” 

Her voice trailed off into hiccups; Sans didn’t utter a word. Even the sound of his breathing seemed too loud. 

“I’m sorry,” Frisk whispered at last.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry,” Frisk repeated, and Sans’ heart sank, because he knew that apology wasn’t for him. “I’m sorry, please don’t… I won’t… do it again… Please don’t send me down there again, it’s dark and cold…”

“I won’t send you down there,” Sans promised. 

Despite his soothing words, Frisk seemed to panic again; she spun around in his arms and clenched at his shirt, searching his eyes with her clouded ones. “You can’t leave me. I need you.”

Sans hesitated, not sure what to say. It made it worse.

“I need you,” Frisk repeated, and her voice broke; her head lowered and hit his chest with a hollow noise. “I… don’t know what to do… without you. Please stay…” 

Sans put a tentative hand onto her head, and began carefully stroking her hair- it was something he vaguely remembered Gaster doing for him when he was younger and scared, and he had done it with Papyrus when something frightened him. It worked; Frisk buried her head into his shirt and practically melted into him. She still trembled, but at least she was quieter. 

“D’ya… uhm- do you wanna eat something, maybe? Drink something?” Sans asked into the air after a long silence. “I hear that helps. I dunno.” 

Nothing. 

“... ’m gonna make something fer ya,” Sans decided, and started to move, but Frisk clung tighter. 

“No.” Her voice was muffled, and she curled up even further. “No, no, no…” 

Sans glanced up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to do next. He suddenly had an idea. Slowly, he tucked one hand underneath her, and the other arm he used to steady her upper body- his eye sparked blue as he employed a little magic to help with him lifting her up. He shuffled around the island, carrying her like he would a baby. Stiffly, he began heading towards the cabinets, searching for a box of tea bags. 

“Whaazagadon,” Frisk slurred.

“Is that another human language I don’t know about?” Sans said, still rummaging. “That’s another thing I’ll never understand about you guys. Isn’t speaking in one language more’n enough? Why d’ya need so many? Doesn’t it make it harder to communicate?” 

He began boiling the water, and while that was heating up, took out the leftovers from earlier and put them on a plate. Five minutes later, Sans sat back down in their corner of the kitchen with a plate of chicken tenders and a mug of tea. He then spent another 10 minutes coaxing Frisk to eat something, which she eventually agreed to. Her eyes slowly became more alert as she ate and drank, but they were still sleepy. All the while, Sans kept carefully running his fingers through her hair; he was worried if he stopped, she would fall back into her flashback again. 

“I’m sorry,” Frisk mumbled to her mug. She couldn’t look him in the eye. “Usually, it’s not… I don’t know. This bad. Sorry.” 

Sans hummed. “Don’t be.” 

She set down her tea mug and leaned against his shoulder, her eyes already drooping. “You can’t… tell anyone about this. ’Kay.”

“What, about you cuddling up with me?” Sans rubbed his chin. “Don’t worry, kid. I won’t tell anyone about your huge crush on me.” 

“You’re an asshole,” Frisk said very clearly, and Sans smiled a little. “No, I meant- me. Me.” she gestured weakly at herself. “You can’t tell anyone about me.”

Sans’ gaze on her grew heavy and solemn. “People know about you though.”

“They don’t know me like this.” With that, Frisk let out a little sigh and drifted off. 

Carefully, Sans wriggled out of his jacket, and used it as a makeshift blanket to cover Frisk and himself. He then used his magic to switch off the kitchen light. 

Somehow, not Leo, not Alfred, not even the scare with Undyne could compete with the level of fear he had felt with Frisk. He wasn’t afraid of her. He was afraid for her. She was sleeping so peacefully now, but what kind of horrible things could she be dreaming of now? How could he protect her from it?

This was heartbreak, but it was steadying. Asking himself why did he care seemed so silly now, because the answer was obvious; he was looking at it right now. 

Frisk was just someone who always needed protection. 

 

Notes:

hehe!!! thank u sososoos much for ur comments, i read them all and they motivate me 🥺 wuv u all!!!

Chapter 9: in which something had to give

Summary:

... and you can probably guess what happens next.

Notes:

who said i was done traumatizing yet?

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

By the time Frisk had woken up, Sans had just finished making food. He had prepared breakfast- scrambled eggs and bacon from him, and over-easy eggs with bacon for Frisk, because she hated scrambled eggs for some reason. 

“I have the worst headache right now,” Frisk muttered, shuffling into the kitchen. Before Sans had started cooking, he had gently moved her to her couch.

“I hope I didn’t wake ya.”

“No, you didn’t.” Frisk gave Sans a wan smile, then went rummaging through the medicine cabinet, pulling out a bottle of Advil; Sans recognized it as being the same Advil bottle she had bought when they first were reunited. Frisk popped the tablet into her mouth and got a glass of water, taking a long sip. She sat down in the dining room as Sans set down plates of food. 

“Bone appetit.” Sans began squirting a copious amount of ketchup on his eggs, emptying the entire bottle. 

“Pig,” Frisk said sarcastically, snatching the ketchup bottle from his grasp. 

“I thought I was a perv.”

“Oh my god.”

“For the record, though, the name’s Sans, actually.” He tipped an imaginary fedora. “Pleasure to meetcha.”

“You’re so stupid,” Frisk scoffed, rapping her knuckles on his skull, to which Sans snickered and shoved her hand away. “Hear that? That shit is hollow. This is what happens when your only nourishment is a condiment.” 

It was almost scary how quickly they fell back into the easy Frisk-and-Sans banter. In no way did they mention or even reference the events of last night. Honestly, Sans wasn’t really sure if it had even happened or if he had dreamed it. 

“Oh, by the way, I gotta go pick up Papyrus after this,” Sans said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Frisk wrinkled her nose. “So yer in charge of cleaning up.”

“You’re just too lazy to do the dishes,” Frisk said, but grudgingly cleared their plates.

“And yer just too lazy to find yerself another house to live in.” Sans mic-dropped. “Ooh, burn.” 

“Please go away,” Frisk said, waving a soapy metal pan menacingly in his direction.

Sans saluted her, smirking, and disappeared; he appeared again at Toriel’s doorstep, where he promptly ran the doorbell. 

And then rang it another 10 times.

“I’m willing to bet that’s Sans,” Toriel grumbled through the door, and when she opened it and saw him, she rolled her eyes. “Only one ring was necessary.”

“Then how come it took ya 9 more to answer the door?” Sans stepped inside the house. 

“IS IT MY DEAREST BROTHER?” screeched Papyrus from across the house.

“Yoohoo. I’ve come to pick ya up,” Sans replied, cupping his hands over his mouth. “Where are ya, anyways?”

There was a pause, then a muffled banging noise; Papyrus came rushing downstairs. “SANS!! IT REALLY IS SANS!”

“The one ’n only.” Sans turned to Toriel. “I owe ya another one fer lookin’ after him.”

“Oh, it was no trouble- no trouble at all,” Toriel said hastily, raising his arms. “I really do enjoy Papyrus’ company! And yours, too, Sans. Lately I’ve been seeing a lot more of you. Usually you’re more reclused, so… it’s been good seeing you more often as well.”

“Shucks, Tori, I’m not a hermit. If ya wanted to see us more, just stop by the store.” Sans shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling another little trip of guilt in his heart.

Frisk is here. She’s alive and she misses you. The words were right on his tongue. He could say them, if he wanted to. End this charade. It was the right decision… but was it really his decision to make? Could he be the bad guy if it meant things became good again?

“Oh, I could never bother you at work. What sort of a friend would I be then?” Toriel’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I almost forgot! Do you have time to spare, Sans? Papyrus and I baked a cake and it would be wonderful if you would eat it with us. Consider it our treat!”

“I couldn’t,” Sans began, and then Papyrus piped in.

“It’s strawberry shortcake!”

Sans suddenly could. 

They all gathered around Toriel’s small dining room; Papyrus insisted on cutting the cake using a special technique he called bonesaw. It worked- it cut the cake, certainly. It also split the table into two. Toriel and Papyrus sat on one side, and Sans sat on the other.

“So, uh.” Sans wiped his mouth. “Last time we talked, Asgore sort of- happened.”

Toriel’s eyebrows furrowed, and she looked up from her plate. “... You could say that.”

There was silence as they contemplated each other. Papyrus’ eyes darted between the mouth of them, his eyes wide as he stuffed his mouth full of cake. 

Toriel sighed, setting down her fork. “I’ve already apologized to Papyrus, but… Sans, I am so sorry. I let my anger at Asgore get the best of me. I should not have taken things out on Papyrus. On either of you.” 

“Aw, Tor. Don’t worry ’bout it. I’ve known ya long enough to know how Asgore makes ya feel. And he did crash our dinner, so.” Sans shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure you were feeling okay. I heard from Paps he’s been, uh, around more often than not?”

“Ugh,” seemed to be Toriel’s only comment about it as she aggressively resumed stabbing at her cake. Sans decided to leave it alone for now. Maybe he should go talk to Asgore next-

His phone rang suddenly.

“’Scuse me,” he muttered to a curious Toriel and Papyrus, covering the other end of the phone as he answered, stepping into a different room. “Hello?” 

There was silence, then a muffled whisper which sent chills down Sans’ spine.

“The Xienthyst Church just called me.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Frisk said tersely; he could practically hear her pacing. “I don’t know they got my number. I swear I- but anyways, I left the house. The lady on the phone, she said she wanted to meet me in her office, she gave me directions-”

“Yer not seriously heading there, are you?” 

Frisk didn’t answer.

“Kid.” Sans paused for a reply, then said with more urgency, “Frisk. Do I need to state the obvious? What if it’s a trap?”

The unspoken words. Like with Papyrus. 

“I…” Frisk swallowed. “I know.”

“Okay, great. We’re on the same page, then.”

“I’m still going.”

“I take it back, we are not on the same page, and yer out of yer mind.” Sans realized his voice had raised a little; he lowered it. “Just don’t go.”

“Sans, they have my number,” Frisk hissed, and a little bit of fear bled into her voice. “This lady knows who I am. And there is- there is so much information on the Ambassador just on the internet, who knows what these people know? What if they try to use you against me-”

“Kid-”

“Or Toriel? Or Asgore?” Frisk’s voice caught. “... I can’t let that happen. So I’m going. I can handle myself, Sans. But I thought you should know, in case I don’t come back, so then maybe you could-”

“I’m coming with you.” The words were out of Sans’ mouth before he could comprehend them; he was already striding into the living room again, where Papyrus had entered, watching him.

“What? Wait, no, that’s a terrible idea, you’re a monster and-”

“And what?” Sans adjusted his jacket. “And I’ll keep ya alive, that’s that.”

“But-”

“’M not a liability. I’m not letting ya go by yerself.” Papyrus’ limp body flashed before his eyes, and he suppressed a shudder. “Where are ya?”

“I- god, I’m at the front of the Church.”

“Be there in a sec. Don’t move.” 

He ended the call, then-

“Sans?”

Papyrus.

“Change of plans, Paps. I got an errand to take care of.” 

“An errand?” Papyrus looked lost. “What’s going on? Was that-?”

“It’s nothin’ ya need to worry about,” Sans interjected. “I’ll be back for you in… uh- I guess it depends, but- I’ll be back.”

Without another word he went out the door and immediately teleported.

Frisk was leaning against the walls around the gate. She’d made some effort to clean up; her hair was tied back in a low bun, a graphic tee with plaid pants. She was scrolling through her phone, but her head snapped up at the pop of Sans’ teleport. Pocketing her phone, she jogged up to Sans.

He gave her a quick once-over. “Yer okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Frisk gave him a shaky smile. “I’m worried, and scared out of my mind- but I’m okay.”

“Good enough fer me.”

“Sans…” Frisk’s voice lowered. “You didn’t have to come. I could’ve handled this on my own.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Sans said grimly, and Frisk lead them into the Church.

The office of a certain K. Mullingham was in sight; Swallowing briefly, Frisk raised a fist up to knock on the door but hesitated. Sans glanced down and noticed that her hand at her side was trembling. 

He didn’t really know why he reached for Frisk’s hand. To comfort her- but then, there are many other ways to comfort people. And he wasn’t really a touchy-touchy skeleton. Maybe it was the unusual amount of stress caused by these past few weeks. Maybe he needed it as much as Frisk.

Wordlessly, he extended a pinky and brushed it against hers. Jesus, her fingers were cold.

Frisk breathed in deeply; she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and he glanced back; a quiet understanding past between them, and Frisk turned back and rapped her knuckles on the door. 

“Come in,” a voice called out from inside. Frisk gave Sans an apprehensive look before opening the door slowly.

When the door swung open, Sans blinked rapidly, doing an inner double-take. Because he knew this person. She was-

“You’re the one who gave the speech at the event yesterday,” Frisk realized out loud, staring at the woman dumbfounded. “You’re…?”

“Please, call me Lynn.” The woman offered them both a warm smile from behind her desk. She gestured towards the two chairs in front of her “Please. Have a seat, both of you. I wasn’t expecting you to come over so soon. Efficient; I like that.”

Okay. Strange. She didn’t seem thrown by the fact Sans was here at all. 

Sans slowly eased himself into a chair as Frisk sat next to him; they left the door deliberately open. His body was outwardly relaxed, but his eyes were darting, glancing around the room; you could learn a lot about someone by looking at their belongings.

The room was sparse; dark green walls. All the light that came from candles, which stood in the dozens on shelves. Her desk was clean- picture frames and pens and a computer. Sans leaned back, his gaze sliding back to Frisk like a magnet. She was stiff, her hands between her legs, her jaw clenched.

“Okay- Lynn,” Frisk said unwillingly. “What do you want from me?”

“Right to the chase. I like that as well.” Lynn leaned forward, her eyes sparkling; the blue dress she was wearing shifted as she leaned forward, and a necklace swung forward; a golden locket. “Since you’ve brought along a friend, I’m assuming they already know a bit about the call I just gave you. What’s your name, sir?”

Sans barely inclined his head. “Sans.” 

“Sans.” Lynn repeated after him like she was tasting his name in her mouth. “Wonderful. Well, Sans and Frisk- there’s no denying I am well aware of whom both of you are, and your involvement with monster equality on the Surface.”

Frisk’s hands balled into fists in her lap, and she gave a tight nod. 

“I understand that you think I speak to you across a divide.” Lynn gave a sad smile that didn’t quite reach eyes. “But actually, we have quite a lot in common. And by “we”, I don’t mean the Xienthyst Church- I’m speaking on my behalf, not theirs. Because you see Frisk, I’ve been meaning to contact you for a while.’’ 

“Me?” Frisk said in disbelief.

“Yes. And again, I speak of you, not the Ambassador role you play.” Lynn reached for one of the photo frames, and turned it around so it was facing both of them. “To understand why, allow me a brief tangent. You see, when I was younger, I had a sister. This is her and I. Pretty, isn’t she?”

She was; two girls, sharing long brown hair and freckles. The younger girl, looking about 10, had wide brown eyes. This was presumably Lynn; the older girl had the oddly familiar, dark blue eyes, the kind that stormed and danced. They were both giggling at the camera. 

“She was my world,” Lynn said softly. Then she turned to look back at them. “You’re probably wondering how this relates to you.”

“Yes,” Frisk replied tersely.

Lynn leaned back, then reached for the back of her neck; she unclasped her necklace, and simply held it out to Frisk. “Open it.”

Frisk shot her a suspicious look, then glanced at Sans. Sans shrugged. “She’s probably not hidin’ a bomb in there, if that’s the confirmation ya need.”

Frisk didn’t look halfway convinced, but she snatched it from Lynn’s grasp and popped it open.

And froze.

“I think it was your eyes that threw me off,” Lynn said softly. “Your eyes were the brightest red last I saw you- and now they’re brown. So I thought, maybe it wasn’t you after all. But then, there aren’t many people named Frisk- you like to avoid using your Determination, right? Perhaps that’s why it’s faded. I mean, I wouldn’t know, but…” 

“W- … wait, I don’t… understand.” It sounded like something was physically lodged in her throat; Frisk swallowed rapidly. “You… you’re-?”

“I’m your aunt, yes,” Lynn said; at the words, her voice cracked, and she put a hand to her mouth. “Stars, Frisk. You look so much like her.”

Frisk stared at the locket, uncomprehending. She touched the image in the locket; a picture of presumably Frisk’s mom holding a wailing bundle, eyes red and open… 

“What happened to my mom?” Frisk whispered.

Lynn blinked at her, then shot Sans an uncomfortable look. “Well… you see, Kassandra- your mother- she didn’t plan on having you. She was young… after she had you, she… she disappeared.” 

“Great,” Frisk said bitterly. She raised her eyes to look Lynn in the eye. “And what about my dad?”

Lynn opened her mouth and closed it, her facial expression shuttered. “He’s… not around.”

Frisk’s eyes had completely darkened to a near black. “Both of my parents abandoned me?”

“No, it wasn’t like that, Frisk,” Lynn began, rising, but Frisk shook her head rapidly. 

“I need to go,” Frisk said, her voice thick. She threw the locket down onto the table and bolted out of the room.

“Fr- Frisk, wait!” Lynn hurried across the room and shouted after her from the doorway, but Frisk was long gone. Lynn let out a long, winding exhale. Sans folded his hands in his lap, staring at the floor. 

“I’m sorry you had to witness that, sir,” Lynn apologized, finally coming back inside, looking exhaustedly distraught.

“Nah. ’S fine.” Sans rubbed his chin, giving her a tired smile. “Uh… ’m sorry I was here. This was prob’bly a more one-on-one thing.”

“No. Perhaps it was better you were here. You grounded her.” 

“Not fer that long.”

“No.” Lynn let out another long sigh, scrubbing her face. “But that was rather inevitable, I think. I was just hoping she would have been happier to meet me again, at least…”   

“Ya kinda dumped a lot on her. ’M sure she was, but- well. Got overwhelmed.”

“Yeah.” Lynn was quiet, then picked up the locket and held it out to him. “Will you give this to her? Tell her to call me? … Whenever she’s ready?”

“Yeah.” Sans cupped it in his hand carefully, like it was a fragile, living thing. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

He went outside. It had started to rain; the sky was overcast with dark gray clouds. It was so windy, the drops flew at a sideways angle. 

Frisk had stopped underneath an archway. She was crouched on the floor, hugging her knees. Her hair was wet and covering her face. Her head tilted up when she saw him, and she stood.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hi, Sans.”

They said nothing for a moment and listened to the gradually increasing pounding of the rain. Then Sans said, “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Aight. Wanna go home, then?”

“Yes, please.” Frisk looped her arm around Sans’ and stood closer. He noticed she was shivering. With a small popping noise, they disappeared, re-appearing inside the house.

“Yer not too wet, are ya?” Sans said, letting go.

“Heh. Th-that’s what she said,” Frisk chattered through her teeth.

Sans pulled back. “Uh oh. That’s never happened before. Yer growin’ a sense a humor and I don’t like it.”

“Excuse me? I’ve always been funny-”

“My bad. I meant that yer growin’ my sense of humor.”

“That’s what she said jokes are t-trademarked to you!”

“Yeah, but I say ’em better, so.” Frisk rolled her eyes, and Sans smiled- then froze. There was someone in the house, moving, muffled footsteps-

“SANS! HUMAN! YOU ARE BACK!!”

“Paps,” Sans said with relief, relaxing. “You- how are ya here?”

“Queen Toriel dropped me off!” Papyrus bounded from down the hall and lifted Frisk straight up, inspecting her, turning her upside downa and shaking her. “YOU AREN’T BROKEN, ARE YOU HUMAN??” 

“You keep shakin’ her and you’ll break her fer sure,” Sans said, amused as Frisk yelled at Papyrus obscene language. 

“GAH!!” Papyrus set Frisk down and patted her forcefully on the head, messing up her already messy hair. “I am sorry, human. I was simply INCREDIBLY WORRIED!! Sans disappeared after presumably going on call with you- are you okay?? Were you… were you ATTACKED??” 

“No, no, it was nothing like that,” Frisk grumbled. “It was just… ugh. It was nothing. Sans was being overdramatic.”

“So what happened?” 

“It-” Frisk shot Sans a look.

“It was nothin’, Paps,” Sans assured him. “Nothin’ ya gotta worry about.”

Silence. 

Papyrus glanced from Sans to Frisk. He had his arms wrapped around himself, not like he was cross but like he was trying to steady himself. There was a confused, hurt expression on his face. 

“Papyrus…?”

“I don’t believe you.” There was a bewildered quality to the way Papyrus said it. Like he couldn’t believe he was saying it. 

A rare moment of his life; Sans didn’t know what to say. He just stared at Papyrus. It felt like gravity was becoming 10 times heavier all of a sudden, trying to drag him through the floor. 

“I don’t believe you,” Papyrus repeated, blinking. “Ever since the human came back… I don’t know, Sans! A lot has happened. I know something happened.” A pause. “I know you guys are leaving me out of it, too.”

Just when he thought today couldn’t get any worse. Sans could feel the smile he’d always had on slip away, sliding off his face. Thunder crackled outside. It was raining hard now. 

“Papyrus,” Frisk began, looking stricken, but Papyrus shook his head.

“I didn’t mind. I still don’t mind! Even I, the Great Papyrus, have secrets. Everyone has secrets!! And I don’t have to be a part of everything… I know that. You two are friends with each other too!! That means you do your own things together. That’s okay. I don’t mind! But…”

Papyrus’ face darkened slightly. “You didn’t tell me where you were going, or what was happening, Sans… and, you know, you told me how scared you were when I was attacked on the street for that delivery a while ago- did it never cross your mind that maybe I would be scared for you, too?”

“I-”

“I’m worried, too! And I care, and… I feel like…. you don’t care.” 

“That isn’t true.” I’m just trying to protect you.

“I know. Or, I want to know. But sometimes, I think… maybe… you’re hiding more from me.” Papyrus met Sans’ eyes, his voice doubtful yet hopeful. Heartbreakingly hopeful. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“It’s not like that.” Papyrus looked away. “Paps, I’m being serious. Some of this stuff-” Sans hesitated, then said very carefully, “Some of this stuff, it’s just somethin’ I gotta handle alone, or sometimes with the kid. There’s no reason t’ involve you in somethin’ like this.”

“Papyrus, I just want you to know that I never wanted either of you involved, period,” Frisk emphasized, shivering from the cold water that still clung to her, but her eyes burned. “I was gone for years. Years. And it was a shitty thing to do, and right now I’m paying the price for it. I just- we don’t want you paying that price, either. I would feel too guilty.”

“I know that!” Papyrus sputtered. “I know it is, which is why I wish you would tell me things! Or ANYTHING, at all!! It’s dangerous for you, and I’m worried when you drop me off somewhere and disappear and I don’t know what you’re doing!” He rounded on both of them. “Why won’t you tell me? What are you afraid of?” 

“’M afraid for you,” Sans said vehemently.

“W-well- well, so am I!”

“’N we can take care of ourselves.”

“But- but from what??”

“It’s nothing you need t’worry about-”

“Queen Toriel told me the same thing! About Asgore wanting to m-murder the human… she told me the same thing. It was nothing I needed to worry about. Only now I think maybe it’s nothing I need to know.” 

“Fine,” Sans said shortly. He got barely any sleep last night and he was soaking wet and a million worries and thoughts had been pilling up all week and all month and the last nerve was stretching thin. “Believe that. Either way, I ain’t tellin’ ya.” 

“But WHY?” Now Papyrus was shouting; and it wasn’t unusual for him to shout, but his voice was laced with anger. “WHY DON’T YOU TRUST ME?” 

“Because, Papyrus.” Sans involuntarily had raised his voice- his tone was sharp, fine enough to cut. Each word was bitten off bluntly, each word hard and even. “Because there are some things that you’d never understand. Even if I tried explainin’ them to ya- ya wouldn’t get it. You’d never get it. Yer just not ready for all that yet.”

There was a terrible silence.

“F-fine! FINE!!” Papyrus’ lip was quivering. “If you don’t NEED me-”

“Papyrus-” Frisk started.

“If you don’t think I’m READY, WH-WHATEVER THAT MEANS-”

“Papyrus!” Frisk repeated.

“THEN THAT MEANS I’M NOT READY TO DO ANYTHING! AND THAT INCLUDES MAKING DINNER! I’M NOT MAKING IT! YOU CAN FIGURE OUT HOW TO EAT YOURSELVES!!” 

Papyrus flounced upstairs. There was nothing, then a mighty slam of his bedroom door. 

Frisk stared up at the stairs after Papyrus for a long moment before rounding on Sans.

“What the shit was that?”

“A disaster,” Sans said, sinking onto the couch, weaving his hands together and staring at the space between his legs. 

“I went along with your charade because I respect you, but this is way too damn much. You have to stop being so overprotective-”

“My charade?” Sans glanced up sharply, jabbing his chest with his bony finger. “Look at the pot callin’ the kettle black. Kid, are ya kidding me? I don’t think yer in any position to judge. Does Mama Tori know ’bout her daughter being back yet?”

Frisk flinched.

“How about Asgore? How about anyone?”

“Okay,” Frisk rushed out, her voice small. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’m sorry.” 

Frisk stood there, holding her arm and looking away awkwardly, and Sans continued to stare at the floor.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Sans said at last, wearily scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to snap at ya. That was uncalled for.”

“It’s okay.”

“’S not. It’s really not.” Sans rubbed his eyes. “I’ve been actin’ strange for a while. Heh. This is a good wake up call fer me, at least.” 

“Why have you been acting strange?”

Sans stared up at her in disbelief and almost laughed. “Nah. That ain’t gonna work on me, kiddo. Nice try, though.”

“Come on, Sans. I came clean with you.” Frisk folded her arms. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“That doesn’t mean I gotta tell you anything, though.” 

Sans was fully prepared to keep going on like this, but surprisingly, Frisk conceded. “Fine. Then… you sit tight, and I’ll make you and Papyrus dinner.”

“No, I should-” Sans tried to stand, but Frisk put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down onto the sofa gently.

“All of a sudden, you don’t feel like being lazy?” Frisk gave him a soft smile. “Just let me do this for you guys, okay? And um… don’t worry about Papyrus. He’ll come around eventually.”

“... ’Kay.”

Sans sat back and watched Frisk’s figure slip into the kitchen; he listened to the clink of dishes and pots, the smell of something sizzling. He pulled out his phone and scrolled aimlessly, just to have something to do with his hands. 

He would rather keel over and die, he thought, then admit to Frisk the reason he’d been acting so strange was because of her. The amount of stress over keeping Paps out of the loop, taking care of Frisk, worried about her, worried about Toriel, Asgore, everyone else- the Xienthyst Church, who in god’s name Lynn was, and the locket that felt like it was burning a hole in his jacket pocket… it was a lot, even for him. Sans was used to being a rock- someone solid, dependable. But Frisk was making him question a lot of things about himself. And the more complicated the situation got, the more he questioned things he thought were rocks, too.

That girl came with a lot of problems, Sans thought idly, watching her cook. A whole hell of a lot. 

Eventually, he got curious over what she was making, and shuffled into the kitchen.

“Whatcha cookin’ up, kiddo?” Sans said, leaning over behind her and peering over her shoulder.

Frisk shot him an amused side-glance. “It’s nothing special, I’m not the greatest cook. It’s just porridge.”

Sans sniffed. “Smells good.”

“You bet your ass it does.” Frisk turned away to the bowls, her eyes softening. “Back then… me and Mom would get into fights sometimes. I was under a lot of pressure as Ambassador, and she was worried. In the morning, I’d wake up, and there would be a bowl of porridge sitting on the table for me. I called it Make Up Porridge. It was her way of … remedying the situation, I guess. Meeting me halfway. Letting me know she was sorry without saying it. I dunno, I just thought…” 

Sans stared at the porridge bowls, and felt something powerful stir within him. Nostalgia. “... Heh. Yer really something else, kid.”

“I’m sorry,” Frisk said immediately, setting down the spoon. “I made it all about me-”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Sans leaned against the counter, not meeting her eyes. “It’s just that. Uh. Gaster used to make something like this for me when I was. Y’know. Younger.” 

He could feel Frisk’s stare burning into him, as well as an arched eyebrow. He never talked about Gaster with anyone, really. There hadn’t been a point- no one other than him remembered who the hell he was anyways. And soon it just formed into a habit, something that Sans never mentioned about himself.

Until now.

“Huh. And here I thought you said you weren’t gonna tell me anything.”

“I didn’t,” Sans said immediately.

“Hmm. That sure sounded like something to me,” Frisk sang, looking ridiculously smug.

“All I said was that he made me food, too.” Sans rolled his eyes. “Yer something else.”

“You already said that.”

“Needed to be said again.” Frisk snorted, and Sans smirked. “But I guess yer rice.”

A beat. “Geddit?” he said. “Rice porridge, rice, right-”

“I hate you so goddamn much,” Frisk said, in such a long-suffering voice he nearly cackled. “Anyways, do you mind calling Papyrus? Food’s ready.”

“Sure thing.” He was about to step away, but paused. “Wait. Whoops. I almost forgot.”

Frisk turned inquisitively, then her face stiffened when Sans pulled out the locket from his pocket. “Where… did you-”

“Lynn gave it to me. To give it to you.” He held it up; the gold sparkled under the warm kitchen light. “Uh, she also said to call? Anyways, I don’t wanna carry this anymore. It belongs to you, after all.” 

“I-”

“Turn around and lemme put it on ya.” Sans held up a finger when she tried to open her mouth to retort. “As payback for gettin’ me to slip something about my past.”

“That’s not how it works,” Frisk grumbled, but turned around and parted her hair so it was out of the way.

“Funny, ’cause you said that’s how it did.”

“I did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did- ow!” Frisk yelped, for Sans had pinched her neck. “You did that on purpose!”

“I don’t know what yer talkin’ about. Must’ve been the wind.” Carefully, he looped the necklace around her neck and clasped it for her. “There ya go. Nice ’n pretty.” 

Frisk touched the locket with her hand, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply before opening them again. “Okay. Go get Papyrus.”

“On it, boss.” With that, Sans went up the stairs, quickly constructing and rehearsing a speech he would give to his little bro.

One that he would never get to give.

Because when Sans opened the door, Papyrus was gone. 

 

Notes:

ok, now im done with the trauma
are you ready for the drama? :^)

Chapter 10: in which something gave

Summary:

… i know, what a shocker.

Notes:

uhm shoutout to cristopher bc i deadass forgot to publish these chapters lMFAOJFIEJOIJF

hey! if you guys comment and kudos a lot, maaaaybe ill remember to publish the next chapter tmrw tehe

thank you so much for your patience!!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

To be perfectly honest, Sans’ first reaction was to laugh.

“Welp,” he said aloud, throwing his hands up. “That’s that, I guess.”

“Sans?” Frisk called from below, her voice tinged with worry. “What’s going on?”

“Paps is gone,” Sans said.

What ?” Immediately there was a thundering of footsteps, and Frisk skidded into place at his side. “Holy shit, he’s really gone . Where the hell did he go? Sans, can you text him?”

Sans looked blankly at her, then blankly at his hand which held his phone. “Ya sure I wouldn’t accidentally drive him off further away?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Frisk snapped, and she snatched his phone away from him and began typing a message furiously. “There. Whatever sort of sarcastic self-pity boohoo funk you’re in, can it until we find him. Okay? Look.”

Frisk jogged into Papyrus’ room, over to the window- which was shoved open. “There’s no sign of a struggle in here, and- Sans!”

Sans followed her, peering out the window down in the direction. 

Bones. Magic conjured bones; Sans recognized the formation of them. It was-

“-an elevator,” he realized aloud, scratching his head. “Paps made himself an elevator.”

“A bone elevator, huh?” Frisk muttered, rubbing her chin. “Okay… okay, so that means he couldn’t have been kidnapped. He willingly left, then.”

“I guess he really had a bone to pick with me, then.”

Sans .”

“What? ’M just glad he got a lift -”

“What is wrong with you right now?” Frisk rounded on Sans again. 

Sans shrugged. “I used humor to cope.” 

“You’re being an ass right now, not being humorous.” Frisk took his phone and began dialing. “I’m calling Undyne. If anyone can find him, it’s her.” 

He didn’t really understand why he was acting like this, either. It was kind of bewildering, actually. He felt the same as he did when Papyrus had gone missing in the mall- shut down. Like he was underwater.

But he hadn’t felt this way initially when Papyrus was kidnapped, had he? He had sprung into action immediately. What was the difference? He found himself asking Frisk’s question- what was wrong with him? He felt a vague pang of annoyance at himself. 

He physically shook his head, like it would shake off the weird mood he was in. It half-worked; Frisk had been talking to Undyne tersely, and she shut off her phone.

“What’s the news?” he asked.

“Papyrus apparently called Undyne. He’s walking to her house right now, apparently, for some impromptu fighting lessons.”

“Fightin’ lessons?” Sans folded his arms, and it clicked. “... of course. He’s tryna ‘get ready’.” 

“Oh, Papyrus,” Frisk said despairingly, and Sans strode across the room and grabbed his alarm clock.

“’M gonna guess we were talking fer about 10 minutes. Judgin’ by that time, the furthest he could’ve gone is past Grillbz.” It was starting to rain. “We’ll split up. You start from here, I’ll comb over Grillby’s area. Ya with me?”

“Roger.” Frisk nodded. “Text if you find him, okay?”

“Vice versa.” 

And so off they went. 

Sans teleported over to where Grillby’s was; it was still open, the faintly yellow neon sign flickering slightly in the downpour. He poked his head inside and asked if anyone had seen his brother. Everyone said no. 

So Sans went combing through the streets, calling out into the empty, wet avenues. Papyrus, Papyrus… the words left Sans’ tongue and echoed, lonely and empty. 

He wondered, then, what Frisk was doing right now. Drops fell like sheets, hitting hard against his bones like hail. He hoped she’d brought an umbrella. He hoped she was okay. 

“What is wrong with me?” he asked aloud. Only the deafening rain answered back, a cacophonous sound. A hysterical laugh was bubbling up in his throat. He was looking for Papyrus, and he was still thinking about Frisk. 

Sans cared about people, yes. He cared about others very easily. He’d always found it very difficult to turn away from other people’s sufferings. That didn’t necessarily mean he was the greatest at comforting- he readily agreed that he was the pits at that- but he would always reach out a hand, should someone want it. 

But to care this deeply? Sure, he’d known Frisk for years now. A decade, to be precise. But it didn’t explain the inexplicable draw he felt towards her now, the urge to try to do more than reach out a hand. He wanted to learn how to be better, so he could help her more. That was something else altogether. It was more than caring. It was vaguely similar to how he felt about Papyrus. 

Which was scary to consider, actually, how fast he’d let his walls down around her. Did all it take was some vulnerable kid to cry into his shoulder, and bam, he was okay with talking about Gaster to them? He was putting Paps aside for her. He was putting everything aside for her. All because he wanted to protect her as much as he could. The mission to stop the monster kill had evolved, unbeknownst to Sans. He was now involved to save her as much as to save the monsters. 

But, why though? What was it about Frisk, anyway? At the end of the day, she was just another human. A friend, maybe, but Sans had loads of friends; more reliable friends, friends who hadn’t ghosted him and the entire monster community for 5 years. He didn’t know why , and that scared him a little too. 

Perhaps, if it was anyone but Sans, they would come to the conclusion after considerate thought that maybe these feelings were something to be explored. To say Frisk changed him would be superficial, an insult to Sans’ character- it would be more correct to say Sans was starting to change in accordance to his newfound desire to help Frisk. He was putting in effort. He was trying; and maybe he should continue to try.

But of course, this was Sans, and his conclusion was that simply put, he had begun to lose focus. He’d always care about the kid of course, but Papyrus was family. Papyrus was what Sans should have been focusing on. His attention towards Frisk had ultimately caused this; the stress of worrying about her, going out of his way to accompany her when he should have been spending time with Paps. It wasn’t the kid’s fault, but rather his own. He was being distracted, and that could be easily solved. 

The argument with Papryus, however… not so much.

He found Papyrus a few minutes later, huddled under an awning of a restaurant, looking out towards the rain. He didn’t appear to notice Sans at first; when he did, when he heard Sans call out his name, he stiffened but didn’t turn around. 

Sans didn’t dare step closer; the mere feet  between them felt like a chasm, a divide that couldn’t be crossed.

“Yer gonna catch a cold at this rate, bro,” Sans said, holding out a hand, watching the rain collect in between his joints. “Look at ya. Yer soaked. But, uh… I could ar rain ge us a ride if ya wanted.” 

The joke stretched out between the void, like an olive branch. Like Sans, extending a hand. Papyrus shifted.

“To where?” Papyrus’ voice was weak, wobbly. Scratchy. “Back home?”

“Nah. I mean- if ya want to. But I was under the impression y’wanted lessons from Undie all of a sudden, so.”

“It wasn’t all of a sudden,” Papyrus said sharply, his shoulders curving inwards, making himself smaller. 

“Right,” Said replied automatically, uneasily. “Right, I- yeah. Yer right. It was because of me.”

They lapsed into a tense silence, filled only by the sound of rain. 

“Where’s the human?” Papyrus asked, half turning. Sans saw a raindrop fall onto his cheek, running down his face like a tear. “Is she looking for me, too?”

The lie was half out of Sans’ mouth before he forced his back down. No. Be honest . “Yes.”

“Is Undyne looking? Is Queen Toriel? Is everyone looking for me?”

“Uh. Not to my knowledge, no.” 

“But they’re all worried about me.” Papyrus said it factually- he turned fully towards Sans, his head down. “I’m worrying everyone.” 

“They’re only worried ’cause they care, Paps,” Sans said. His jaw worked, and then he said, “You matter to a lot of people.” 

“I don’t want them to worry, Sans,” Papyrus said with a very un-Papyrus-like fierceness. “I want to be reliable. I want to tell people, don’t worry, the Great Papyrus is here! I want to be someone people can trust!”

“I do trust ya.” Sans exhaled. “Papyrus, look.”

Papyrus lifted his head. 

“I know these couple a weeks have been weird on ya.” Sans was drenched; his jacket felt like dead weight on him, clinging to his bones, making him smaller and smaller. “They’ve been weird to me, too. Lotta stuff changed. And, uh… I guess I changed, too.” He shrugged. “You’ve always been my number one priority; yer my brother ’n all. But because of the kid-” 

“I’m not your number one priority anymore?” Papyrus finished quietly.

“Of course not,” Sans said immediately, so quickly and so harshly it made Papyrus flinch a little. “Never, Paps, y’hear me? Never . You’ll always be my number one.”

Papyrus stared at the wet concrete. “So, then… why-?”

Sans shook his head. “It’s just- the kid’s goin’ through some stuff, alright? Some pretty heavy stuff. Most of it I don’t really understand, and I guess I’ve been trying t’figure it out. They’re kinda like, uh- like a Rubix cube except each individual square is another Rubix cube. Ya feeling me?”

“No,” Papyrus said, bemused. “What’s a Rubix cube?”

“It’s- nevermind. Point is, it’s been really confusing and I’ve been a little lost, and…” Sans rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes shifting. “... I guess forgot that you’ve probably got stuff yer goin’ through, too.” 

A pause.

Sans straightened. “I didn’t tell ya anything because I didn’t want ya to get involved.”

“But I’m not a babybones anymore, Sans!” Papyrus interjected, swinging his hand in a chopping motion in front of him. “You can tell me things! You always do this! You let people rely on you but you never let yourself rely on anyone!”

“That’s not true,” Sans protested.

“Isn’t it?”

Sans sputtered. “This isn’t about me-” 

“Of course it’s about you! You don’t trust me, you leave me to worry, you leave me to wonder, you think I’m not ready-” Papyrus choked. “You don’t believe in me.” 

“Augh, Paps.” Sans put a hand to his skull. “Is that what you think?” 

Papyrus didn’t answer. It was answer enough.

“That’s not what I think.” Frustrated, Sans rubbed the back of his head, looking up at the black, unforgiving sky, trying to figure out how to word this. He shook his head. “Paps, you are…” 

He didn’t even know how to say it. That Papyrus was the person who got him through the disappearance of Gaster? That Papyrus was the reason Sans became the Judge in the first place? That Papyrus was the most difficult, but most rewarding surprise? 

That Papyrus was, in all honesty, everything Sans knew? 

Sans walked up to Papyrus, and clapped both hands onto Papyrus’ shoulders, closing the chasm between them. Papyrus glanced up.

“You are,” Sans said again sternly. “My brother. An’ I don’t got another one in the whole wide world. That means yer very, very special to me. I didn’t tell ya not because I didn’t trust ya. I didn’t tell ya because I wanted to protect you. Which makes me a big fat idiot."

“You are prone to bouts of idiocy,” Papyrus relented. 

“True,” Sans agreed. “I shoulda noticed sooner that by protectin’ ya, I was stifling ya. I wasn’t showing you respect. And uh… you deserve that.” Sans tilted his head, thinking. “Tell ya what, bro. I’ll compromise. You come home with me, and I’ll letcha in on a secret or two. About some of the things the kid and I have been up to.” 

“REALLY?” Papyrus’ face instantly lit up.

“Really. That does not mean ya get to be involved, though,” Sans was quick to add. “I don’t think ’m there yet. But yer right. You deserve to know.” 

“Sans…” Papyrus looked like he might cry of happiness.

“Aight, enough of that.” Sans waved him off, trying to wave off his own emotions. “Ya don’t forgive me, do ya?” 

“Of course I do!” Papyrus was beaming so hard it looked like it hurt. “You trust me. What more can a brother ask for?”

Not even the whole truth, and Papyrus had forgiven him. Sans hadn’t even told him sorry. 

You kinda suck at apologies, a little nagging voice in his head told him. And at being a good brother .

Maybe so, Sans thought grimly. But he always knew Papyrus was the better brother than him; he was too good for Sans. But Sans pushed that thought aside and threw an arm over Papyrus. 

“Let’s call the kid and get us home, hm?”

They walked home together in the soaking rain; as they did, they ran into Frisk, who had been asking a couple walking out of a restaurant if they had seen Papyrus. When Sans called her name, she turned around, and her entire face brightened when she saw them both.

“That was fast!” Frisk ran towards them both, enveloping them in a wet, sogging hug. “Thank god. You’re both okay…” 

“C-COURSE WE ARE!” Papyrus sputtered. “WE SKELETONS ARE VERY RESILIENT!” 

Frisk pulled back, wiping rain from her face. “Papyrus!” she said sternly. “You can’t go running off like that without telling anyone! I get that you were pissed off at Sans, but still ! We need to know where you are! Didn’t you learn anything from the mall trip? And it's dangerous out here at night!”

Papyrus hung his head. “I am sorry for making you worry, human. I should have known better.” 

“Yes, you should have.” Frisk’s hard expression melted into a softer one as she looped her arm around Papyrus’. “Let’s go home and get cleaned up. I have a call to Undyne I need to return, and I’m not taking my phone out in this rain.”  

When they got home, Papyrus went to go shower using his bedroom bathroom, and Frisk showered downstairs. Sans used this time to pour Frisk’s porridge out into bowls, which he set up in the living room. When they both returned, Papyrus was talking to Undyne on Frisk’s phone. 

“Yes… yes, I know. I promise! We should hang out soon, though. I promise, Undyne, I won’t do that again!... Please don’t… Undyne? UNDYNE??”

“What did she say?” Frisk asked curiously as Papyrus handed her back her phone with a half-confused, half-frightened look on his face. 

“I bet she threatened him,” Sans said around a mouthful of porridge.

“She threatened me,” Papyrus confirmed in a small voice. “Undyne sure is scary when she wants to be!!” 

After they ate, they were all sitting down together,  a deck of cards between them. Frisk was teaching card games- slapjack, 21, speed. They cycled to this game called “Village Idiot”- which Papyrus found so infuriating he took the rules and discarded them completely, making his own version, which he called “Village Genius”. It was pretty fun; they set up a tournament and battled each other out for the crown prize, which would be the two losers pitching in to buy anything the winner wanted (as long as it was within reason). After many tense rounds, the tournament concluded with Sans being the winner.

“That’s absolute bullshit,” Frisk grumbled as Sans smugly shuffled the deck. “Papyrus was right. You cheated .”

“Oh yeah?” Sans leaned in, his grin stretching to shit-eating proportions. “Prove it.” 

“One more round,” Frisk said, slapping her hand on the floor. “One more. And when I win, I will use that hollow skull of yours as a mug in which I will drink your tears from.” 

“Alright, ya asked for it. Don’t be crying after you lose tear ably.” 

Papyrus, who had practically shredded his vocal cords after shrieking for 10 whole minutes about how Sans cheated him out of winning, was drinking hot honey tea to soothe his voice. He scowled at Sans.

“I refuse to buy a cheater anything!”

“Not a cheater,” Sans replied, raising an eyebrow, still shuffling. “’M an honest skeleton.”

“Hmfph. And I’m a 400 foot tall purple platypus with pink horns and silver wings!” Papyrus shot up. “I’m going to bed.” 

“Sore loser?” Sans said, leaning towards his brother and smirking.

“NO!” Papyrus huffed in his scratchy voice. “It’s just my dignity does not allow myself to be cheated out of another bogus match! And it is past my bedtime, at any rate! I will see you both in the morning! Human, see to it that you save some of Sans’ tears for me to drink, too… NYEHEHEHEHE!”

With a final cackle, Papyrus shot off to his room. 

“So, what’ll it be, Ambassador?” Sans said, grinning wickedly. “Just you ’n me? A 1v1?”

“Don’t act so high and mighty yet, you smug bastard,” Frisk shot back. “And give me the deck. I’m shuffling.” 

“Nope. No can do, kid.”

“You’ve been shuffling the entire time.”

“Which means I know how to do it right.” Sans raised an eyebrow. “Yer not a shuffling expert.”

“The hell? I was the one who introduced you to all those card games!” 

“And yet.” Sans winked at her. “I still play better than you.”

“Just give me the deck,” Frisk sniped, attempting to grab it from his hand. Sans dodged back, and the card game became a game of cat and mouse, Frisk attacking and Sans darting back. They were both laughing as Frisk chased him around the living room, almost but never quite nailing him down. 

At last, Frisk managed to get him by launching a pillow at his face, and jumping around to tackle him from behind.

“Got you,” Frisk gasped, laughing breathily as she yanked the deck from his hand. “You’re slippery, aren’t you?” 

“Heh. That’s what she said.” 

“Shut up.” 

Sans’ eye flared blue, and Frisk barely had time to blink before he teleported behind her, and now he was the one pinning her to the ground. Laughing, he plucked the deck from her fingers.

“Teleportation magic is cheating !” Frisk stabbed an accusatory finger in his direction.

“Well, ya know what they say.” Leisurely, Sans stretched, dancing the cards just out of Frisk’s swiping reach. “Ambassadors without teleportation magic are just jealous losers who suck at card games.”

“That is not a saying.”

“It is now.” 

“Get off me,” Frisk grumbled. “Your bones are poking into me.”

“Heh. That’s wh-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Laughing again, Sans climbed off her. Frisk sat back, leaning against the couch, eyeing him with a strange expression as Sans went back to shuffling.

“You seem to be in a better mood than before.” Frisk tilted her head. “Paps, too. What did you talk about when you found him?” 

“Ah.” Sans’ hands stilled. “Not a lot, to be honest. Paps isn’t one to get angry, and when he does, he’s pretty quick to calm down. But uh… I told him that I’d tell him a few things about the monster situation.” 

“Really.” Frisk’s voice was even.

“Yeah.” Sans set the cards down. “Listen, kid, I know ya didn’t want me telling others about it-”

“I know. You didn’t want Papyrus to be mad at you. I get it. I just-” Frisk rubbed her face with her hand. “I wish… I don’t know. Papyrus was one of the monsters I didn’t want to be involved no matter what.” 

“Whaddaya mean?” 

“Come on, Sans. You know how this sort of thing goes. The more people who know, the more people could get hurt. The Xienthyst Church already knows who I am. My-” Frisk’s throat worked as she tried out the word, “-aunt might be on my side, but there’s no one else . If the Church tries to use Papyrus against me, or if Papyrus let slip something about me-”

Sans’ chest went cold. “He wouldn’t do that, kid. He’s not stupid.”

“I’m not saying he is. I’m just saying it’s easy to get him to talk-”

“So yer sayin’ he’s not trustworthy?”

Frisk gave him a searching look. “If you’re going to put words in my mouth, at least don’t be hypocritical about it. Just a few hours ago you were all on board to not tell him.” 

The easy Frisk-and-Sans feeling was gone now, and suddenly Sans was reminded of the conclusions he made on the streets while looking for his brother. 

Who was Sans kidding? He wasn’t a good guy. The nudge in his stomach, bugging him to help Frisk, be there for Frisk- it was irrational. Sans couldn’t fix anybody. He could barely take care of himself, he was constantly disappointing those last words of Gaster. He was always, apparently, upsetting Papyrus and he just never knew it. 

‘Fixing’ somebody? Being there for somebody? It wasn’t just a couple of nice words. It was commitment, and Sans was shit at that. He didn’t have the stamina. And one day, he’d let Frisk down big time, and Frisk would realize that too and be done with him. So really, what was the point? 

At the end of the day,

Frisk was distracting him from his real duty. 

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo,” Sans said breezily, standing up. “Paps won’t talk. I’ll make sure of it. You can trust the both of us, ’kay?”

“... Okay.” 

“It’s kinda late. I’m gonna go check on Paps and head to bed, too.” Sans gave her a smile he didn’t quite feel. “Maybe we’ll rematch later, eh?”

“Maybe.” Frisk gave him another look, then stood up and stretched. “See you in the morning?”

“See you.” 

 


 

Sans was woken up to the sounds of violent hyperventilating. 

“Kid,” Sans said, and without thinking he moved out of bed, throwing off his sheets and heading downstairs, not even bothering to check the time. 

Her blankets were ripped this time, at least, and she didn’t appear to have a knife; maneuvering in the dark, it was hard to find her. Following the sounds of her gasps, he found her curled up behind the couch, a blanket over her head where she shivered erratically underneath. 

Sans approached her from the side timidly, reaching out a skeleton hand and gently lifting the blanket from over her head. Her head snapped to face him immediately; her eyes were blown wide, and they were very dark. 

“Kid-” Sans began, but Frisk grabbed him, her fingernails digging into his arms.

Don’t ,” she whispered vehemently. “ She might see you.”  

“Who?” Sans said, confused- and the rain and wind from outside caused the tree outside their house to brush against the window, causing a faint brushing sound as well as casting a vague shadow over them- and Frisk screamed, pulling the blanket over herself again. 

“Woah there, kiddo,” Sans said, scooting closer and wrapping a a cautious arm around her trembling body. She didn’t flinch away. “That was just a tree. Promise. She’s not here.” 

She’s going to find me .”

“Nah, she’s not.”

She’s going to find me and put me down there again…

Sans patted her shoulder soothingly. “She’s not. Just breathe for me, ’kay? Just breathe.” 

They stayed like this for a while, Frisk murmuring the same things over and over again, Sans murmuring back over and over again. Eventually, Frisk leaned slightly against him, keeping the blanket over her head; but when Sans pulled her closer, she snuggled deeper into his embrace, her breaths losing their erratic flow and slowing down to a steadier rhythm. After a few minutes, Sans peeled the blanket back from her face and stared at her. Her forehead was slick with sweat.

“Hi,” Frisk whispered.

“Hi yerself, kiddo.” Sans pressed a hand to her head. “How ya feeling?”

“Sleepy.” 

“Then sleep.” 

“Hmm.” Frisk’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, before they opened again. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you going to sleep?”

“Sure I am.”

“Here?”

“Duh.” Sans leaned against the wall. 

Frisk was quiet for a moment, then moved slightly, lifting the blanket so it was wrapped around him as well as her.

“Good night, Sans.”

“Good night, kid.”

Notes:

uh oh, the girlies r fighting again??? sans cannot catch a break (rightfully so)

thanks for reading <3

Chapter 11: in which the ketchup is not passed

Summary:

... and things really go to shit, like for real.

Notes:

we're getting very, very close to the end of the first arc. what do you guys think- should i continue on this story, or split into a duology?

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

To say there that a wall of ice formed between Sans and Frisk wouldn’t be accurate, and was nonetheless too cliche. It wasn’t as though they had been ignoring each other for the past two weeks, precisely, or avoiding one another. Not exactly. 

Perhaps it is easier to show, rather than to describe. For example, take this instance when they greeted the other one morning in the kitchen-

Sans glanced up from the coffee machine, watching Frisk shuffle through the archway, stretching languidly her jaw unlocked in a gaping yawn. When her eyes fell on Sans though, her mouth abruptly snapped closed, and she straightened.

“Morning, Sans.”

“Mornin’, kiddo.” Sans lifted his mug of coffee before taking a sip. “You want some?” 

“Nah. You always buy the dark roast, right? It’s too bitter for me.” Frisk went over to the dining room and picked up the jacket hanging from a waiting chair, slipping it on. “I’ll head out, maybe swing by Starbucks myself.” 

Sans leaned on the counter, watching her fuss over her coat. “But there’s literally coffee at home. Don’t spend if ya don’t hafta.”

Frisk snorted, still adjusting her clothes. “Right. Since when did you care about human money?”

“Since ya been freeloading at our place and we got another mouth to feed.” Although Frisk was right, he didn’t and still didn’t care about money. But this was part of her regular routine now; she would wake up, make some excuse to leave, and go to the Xienthyst Church. 

Sans was happy Frisk was reconnecting with her aunt. Thrilled for her, even. One might go to say he was over the moon. There was just one teeny, tiny issue- Frisk wasn’t sharing what she was discussing with her aunt to him, nor was he ever invited to come with her. 

Which was very odd, because Frisk was nothing if not an oversharer. 

On top of that, Lynn was still working for the Xienthyst Church. And as much as Sans wanted to believe she had the best intentions, he knew humans better than that. They were liars. So at best, Lynn wanted some alone time with her niece. At worst, Lynn was anti-monster and was currently manipulating Frisk in her office practically every single day the past 27 straight

He didn’t really know how to  bring it up, especially because he didn’t want to piss Frisk off, so he stayed quiet, working on the missing monster case- and he kept details he found to himself. He would share them with Frisk later, he told himself. But he didn’t. Because he didn’t trust Frisk, and clearly Frisk didn’t trust him. 

So he kept his secrets close to his chest, like he’d always done. 

“Then I’ll get a job, if you’re struggling that much to make ends meet.” Frisk’s voice was edging with a bit of frost. 

“Hmm.” Sans sipped as his coffee, choosing not to respond to that. “Lock the door on yer way out.”

“See you.”

So yeah. There was some palpable, unsaid tension in the air. 

“Sans?”

The two skeleton brothers were heading out to open shop. Sans glanced at Papyrus before turning back to face the sky, watching his breath crystalize in the cold. “What’s up?” 

“Are you okay?”

This made Sans pause. A laugh, practiced and easy, slipped from between his teeth. “Aw, bro. Are ya worried about me?” 

“Well- I- nooo , I am not!” Papyrus was practically stamping his foot in embarrassed indignation. “But- it- SO WHAT IF I AM?! As your GRRREAT brother, some would say it is my DUTY to worry after you!”

Sans mock-wiped the corner of his eye. “Your concern brings me to tears, Paps.”

“Sans, you don’t have tear-ducts. You can’t cry.”

“I can now.”

“ARGHH, STOP CHANGING THE SUBJECT!” Papyrsus was really stamping his foot now. “You said you would be more honest with me! And you promised less lame jokes! And puns!”

“I don’t know about those last two, bud. Part of bein’ me. Who am I, sans the humor?” Seeing the steam shoot out between his brother’s ear holes, Sans dialed it back, his smile growing smaller. “I think she’s mad at me or somethin’.” 

“Hah?” Papyrus pulled back, and scratched his skull questioningly. “The human? Why would she be mad at you?”

“Beats me.” Sans kicked at an invisible pebble on the street. “I didn’t start it, that’s for sure.” 

“Come to think of it, the human has been spending more time elsewhere,” Papyrus pondered out loud, tapping his bony chin. “Has she accumulated more friends? Already?! I must ask her how she does it, she must have advice to give…”

Sans snorted. “I don’t think she’s out there makin’ pals, Paps. If she wants to keep her identity a secret, she’d keep contact with other people to a minimum.” 

“Hmm.” The conversation seemed to end there, with Papyrus in his own thoughts; it was only when Sans pulled the keys out of his pocket and opened the store door did Papyrus speak again. 

“Sans, could it be you are feeling left out ?”

Sans turned back to Papyrus, confused. “Uh. Left out of what?”

“Frisk’s secret rendezvous!” 

Sans sighed, turning back and ushering Papyrus in. “They sure ain’t secret, bro.” 

“So then you’re jealous!”

Sans’ laugh was very real and very incredulous. “Yer not very good at this psycho-analyzing thing.”  

“Then…” Papyrus blinked rapidly, clearly trying very hard to figure out the absolute confusion that was Sans’ inner emotions. “Are you sad?” 

Sans flicked the light switch on and flipped the sign from closed to open . “I guess I’m just worried about her.” 

“Worried? Why?”

Sans exhaled, walking behind the counter and resting his arms on it. “Y’know who Frisk is hanging out with? Her aunt.”

“Her AUNT ?” Papyrus’ eyes went as wide as saucers as he poked his head from the staff room. 

“Yup. Which is cool ’n all. But.” Sans contemplated his answer. “Like, how come it’s been radio-silence for 10 years, even though the kiddo’s internationally famous and pretty damn easy to reach? And the connection with the Church? And the constant meetings? I mean, d’ya really need to see your niece every single day ? I dunno, bro. She’s sus, that’s all I’m saying.” 

“Hmm. Valid points. All very valid points, Sans. Even the points I don’t understand. I must say, I am impressed by your deductive reasoning and your shocking intellect! I never would have thought that possible from you!”

“Gee,” Sans said dryly. “Yer bein’ reeeeaaaaal sweet with me today, aren’t ya.”

“But, allow me to present a counter argument!” Papyrus emerged from the back with his outfit and pin. “Maybe they just want to spend some quality family time together! Like you and me. Maybe right now, her aunt is taking the human out to get ICE CREAM!”

“It’s too early in the morning for ice cream, bro.” 

“IT’S NEVER TOO EARLY!”

“It’s too cold, then.”

“WHAT? WHAT IS THIS ICE CREAM BLASPHEMY. IT’S NEVER TOO COLD TO EAT ICE CREAM.” Papyrus harrumphed. “But you’re missing my point! My point is, have a little faith in humans, Sans!” 

“I already do. Very, very little faith… hello, welcome to the general store,” Sans droned, lifting his hand in greeting as someone entered the shop. 

“Well, have more! And have more in the human! And speaking of humans- HUMAN! ALLOW ME, THE GRRREEAATTT PAPYRUS, TO ASSIST YOU WITH WHATEVER YOU NEED!”

As Papyrus disappeared to harass yet another customer, Sans was left on his own, with only his musings to keep him company. 

His recent findings about the monster case were concerning. The monsters that were being attacked and killed weren’t just ordinary. They were well known, and loved by the monster community. Monsters that people would recognize from television and such. And as much as Sans wanted to believe, was borderline praying that it wasn’t true, a monster traitor was looking more and more likely. 

He had spent more time than logically necessary trying to decipher the possible reasoning. Perhaps they were being coerced? Manipulated? Tricked? Because Sans could not , for the life of him, wrap his mind around the idea that a fellow monster would wish to exterminate, or at least contain, monsterkind. 

But it didn’t matter. Because regardless of why, the possibility of a monster traitor was becoming more and more real. Which made Sans question his initial judgment of the scale of this anti-monster movement. And added even more to the suspect list. 

Sans had been taking a deep dive into the victims’ relationships with humans and monsters, learning details about their life, hacking into their social medias; and though he would never admit not, not in a million years, the toll it was taking on his mental health was enormous. Because he was getting to know the victims now, and he was mourning for them all over again. 

And he was stubbornly, insistently, stupidly doing it alone. 

On another note, the next recruitment party was in about 3 days, which meant 3 days until the next killing. If they were killing based on convenient officer neighborhoods, then following their rotation and according to Undyne’s information, the area where the next attack would roughly take place was nearby his own, about two blocks away. He’d have the stake there overnight. 

He paused. Or. 

Or maybe, he could set a trap. 

He had Undyne on his side now, after all. He could have her leak his location and tip off Alfred and the other officers. And when they tried to take him now… well, let’s just say that they were going to have a bad time. It wasn’t a half-bad idea. Something he could talk through to Undyne, at least. 

After closing shop, Sans met up with Undyne at her place. Papyrus and Alphys were hanging out in her room (there were ominous sounds of explosions and giggles/screams), while Sans and Undyne sat in the living room. Some anime was playing on the TV, and though Sans and Undyne were staring at it, neither of them were really paying attention. 

“Leaking info, huh.” Undyne swished her cup of coffee absently. “It’s a good idea. But, Sans… do you really think you would be able to survive it? I mean, no offense. But you’re not exactly the strongest skeleton around.” 

“Eh, I’ll figure out a way not to get dusted. Shouldn’t be too hard. Just gotta dodge, right? Simple as that.” Sans gave Undyne a reassuring grin. “I’m more worried about you keeping yer end of the deal. With, y’know. Subtlety.”

“WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN, PUNK?” Incensed, Undyne slammed her fist into the coffee table in front of them, casually splitting it into two.

Sans merely raised his eyebrows over his cup of coffee, sipping pointedly. 

Undyne grumbled, sitting back. “That was because you provoked me. That doesn’t count.”

“The coffee table in front of me disagrees.”

“Oh shut up, bones-for-brains.”

“That’s gotta be racist.”

“SHUT UP.” Undyne let out an aggressive hmfph . “You can count on me, idiot. When have I ever let a friend down?” 

“Thanks, Undie. Glad I can rely on someone around here.” Sans leaned back, propping his feet up on the broken shards of the table and taking a long sip of his coffee.

“... Uh huh .” Undyne raised a lone eyebrow, noting the subtle jab in Sans’ tone, as well as Frisk’s definite absence. “Finding foes among friends?”

“That sayin’ only applies if we were ever friends,” Sans muttered absentmindedly into his cup. 

Undyne sat up, impatience in her tone. “Alright, edgelord, spill. What’s got your bones in a bunch?”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“I mean Frisk. Duh. Who else would get you so worked up!” Undyne tsk ed. “You don’t let just anyone get under your skin.”

“That’s ’cause I don’t have any.”

“I will snap your spine and drive it into your forehead like a deranged skeletal unicorn,” Undyne said easily. “I mean it, punk. What did she do?” 

Sans snorted. “She’s just bein’ sneaky. That’s all.”

“Sneaky?”

“Yeah.” Sans set his mug down and stared up at the ceiling. “I dunno. Even though she ditched us for years, I never thought she was unreliable.”

“Hah? What are you going on about?”

Sans squinted, wondering how much of Frisk’s secrets to relay to Undyne. “... she’s just spendin’ a lotta time with this person. And they seemed nice, I guess, when I met them but- I dunno. They’re shady.”

“Shady,” Undyne echoed, narrowing her eyes. Sans could almost see the warrior come out of her. “Who are they?”

“A family relation.”

“Oh.” Undyne’s hackles noticeably withdrew. “Then what are you worried about?”

Ah, jeez

Monsters, while being physically and magically different from humans, also had a disparity culturally. Monsters trusted deeply, but not easily. If Sans had to say, this kind of mentality was probably cultivated after being ousted to the Underground. To monsters, bonds were important, and family was a bond that could never, ever be broken. If you couldn’t trust family, you couldn’t trust anyone. It wasn’t that Sans necessarily disagreed with this sentiment, but more often than not he saw that it clouded the judgment of monsters. 

Sans waved Undyne’s curious expression off. “Never mind, Undie. Ya wouldn’t get it.”

Undyne stared at Sans a moment longer; and then, inexplicably, a flash of understanding crossed her eyes. “Ahh,” she said, flopping onto the cushions smugly. “So it’s like that.”

“Whatever yer thinkin’, yer wrong,” Sans said simply, picking up the remote and scrolling through the channels.

“Nah. You’re not exactly slick, Sans.” Undyne boomed out a cackle. “You’re jealous .”

“Huh.” Sans turned to give her an unconvinced half-glance. “That’s the second time I’ve been told that.”

“THEN YOU’RE DEFINITELY JEALOUS!” Undyne slapped her knee. “TWO PEOPLE CONFIRMED IT!” 

“I am not.”

“YES YOU ARE.”

“I am not.”

“YES. YOU. ARE.”

Sans sighed, hopping off the couch. “This ain’t going anywhere. I told ya what ya needed to know, so ’m out-”

“Sans.”

Sans paused, a breath away from calling Papyrus so they could go. Undyne had stood up as well, a hand gripping Sans’ bony shoulder. Undyne’s voice had lowered, softened; it lost all discernable Undyne edge; she sounded serious and vulnerable all at once. 

“Look, punk. Whatever’s going on between you two, it’s probably affecting her as well. Stop with this miscommunication shit.” 

“Hm.” Sans tapped his chin. “I guess  yer right. Historically, the miscommunication trope in literature gets old real fast.”

“... What are you talking about?”

“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it.” Sans waved her off, bemused expression, shouting, “ Paps , it’s time to go!”

“Text me the details of the plan!” Undyne yelled, and Sans gave her a thumbs up on the way out. 

 


 

In the three days leading up to the second recruitment party, the tension ramped up exponentially . Frisk could barely look Sans at all now; so the miscommunication trope extends, Sans lamented, although he could barely joke about it now. His irritation was also ramping up alongside it. 

The catastrophic event that shattered everything was the night before the party, when Frisk refused to pass the ketchup.

It was dinner, and Sans and Frisk were sitting directly opposite to each other, with Papyrus nervously spooning soup into his mouth, eyes darting between the two of them. 

“Sans, it’s tomato soup,” Frisk said, not even looking up from her bowl as she continued to mix her spoon around. “Why do you need ketchup?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, kid,” Sans said, propping his chin up with his hand. “You must have misheard. I asked for the ketchup bottle, not your opinion.”

Frisk slammed her spoon down, nearly sloshing soup all over herself. The sharp sound startled Papyrus, who jumped a little in his seat. “You think you’re so funny.”

“I think I asked for the ketchup,” Sans replied evenly.

“For fuck’s sake, Sans, this is beyond the ketchup.” 

“Is it? I really don’t think it is. I think yer psychoanalyzing-”

“You’ve been working on the monster case without me.” 

Silence.

Slowly, Sans leaned back, and there was a calculating glint in his eye that hadn’t been present in a very long time. He wasn’t assessing a friend; he was assessing a stranger. “So it seems, Sherlock.”

Frisk’s eye twitched. “Sans, for once in your life, please don’t joke .”

“Yer right. Wrong pop culture reference. Yer the furthest thing from a detective.” Sans lifted his spoon in the air using magic and started doing aerial tricks with it idly, focusing on the utensil rather than Frisk’s incredulous face. “A real detective is reliable. Y’know, trustworthy ’n all that. Is it really that surprising that while you’ve been off frolicking in the green fields with that aunt of yours, I was back home doin’ actual work?” 

Wow ,” Frisk breathed, a sarcastic laugh bubbling to her lips. “ Wow . Okay, first of all, I’ve been doing plenty of work. It’s just now that I’ve been reconnected with family, I want to spend some time with them.” 

“The timing is weird,” Sans pointed out. “Yer aunt is weird.”

“You know what else is weird?” Frisk stood up, her voice rising to a trembling shout. “You lying to me and not telling me about your fucking suicide plan !” 

Silence .

Sans could only stare at Frisk, and Papyrus could only stare at Sans.

“What is she talking about, Sans?” Papyrus asked nervously.

There was no way Frisk could have known. Unless- 

“Text me the details of the plan!”

“You went through my phone,” Sans said aloud, dumbfounded by his own realization. He repeated it again, and for the first time, icy anger leaked into his voice. “You went through my phone .” 

Frisk’s cheeks blushed a furious red, but she stood her ground. “You weren’t telling me jackshit, Sans, there was nothing I could do.”

“So you resorted to invasion of privacy,” Sans replied, and inexplicably his voice had darkened, becoming quieter. “Instead of just, I don’t know, asking me.”

“Yeah, I guess I could have asked you. But hmm, what would that result in ?” Frisk mock-tapped her chin, then snapped her fingers. “Oooh, I know! You, being an absolute dick about it just like you have been for the past month-” 

“Consider me burned,” Sans cut in. “Demolished. Annihilated , even, by yer hypocritical comeback, kid.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Sans scoffed loudly, dropping the spoon onto the table, where it landed with a loud clatter. “You don’t get t’call me a dick ’n then play dumb. Ever since you’ve been hanging out with yer aunt, you’ve been icing me out-”

“Again with my aunt-”

“I don’t like her.”

“Well whoopdy doo , Sans, not everything is about you!” 

“By that logic, not everything’s about you either. I have every right not to tell you about my-” Sans put heavy quotes around it, “ suicide plan .”

“That is different ,” Frisk seethed, so hard her voice cracked. “That is so different, Sans!”

“How is it different? Enlighten me.”

“My problems have to do with my fucking dead parents!” Frisk screamed, eyes red. “Which you are not. Entitled. To know! ” 

“Trauma-dumping to win an argument isn’t gonna work, kid,” Sans snapped, temper rising, “I got a dead dad, too. And my problem is with your aunt. Who works for the Church-”

“Who is a good person!”

“Who you’ve known for 3 weeks-”

“I’ve known you for only a little longer-”

“So you think I’m a shit person?”

“Do you deny it?” 

Sans laughed out loud, though it was devoid of any actual humor. “You tell me, kid, you tell me .” 

“And stop calling me kid !” Frisk stabbed a finger in Sans’ direction; her eyes were glossing over with angry tears. “It’s so- it’s so belittling !”

“No can do,” Sans replied, winking. “Shit person, remember?”

STOP!”

There was a clatter of china, and a splash - Sans felt warm, wet soup drizzle down his face.

They both froze, then slowly swiveled to Papyrus, who looked positively traumatized by their argument. He had his bowl of soup in his hand, empty. He had splashed the liquid onto both Frisk and Sans.

Papyrus dropped the bowl, squeaked, and immediately bolted upstairs. 

For a moment, there was nothing save for the sound of Papyrus’ door being slammed shut, and Papyrus’ obvious panicked pacing upstairs. 

Sans was the first to unfreeze, hastily grabbing a napkin and wiping his face. Frisk soon followed- Sans handed her one, which she immediately took, and they simultaneously bolted up the stairs together. 

“Paps?” Sans knocked on the door. “Hey, bro?”

There was only an embarrassed, muffled wail.

“Papyrus,” Frisk said gently. “We’re coming in, okay?”

They slowly opened the door. Papyrus was on his racecar bed, bundled up and hiding under his blankets. They exchanged a look, and despite them still being angry with each other, they nodded in silent agreement to put it aside for now; Frisk sat on Papyrus’ left, and Sans on his right.

“Papyrus is not here,” he said, stilted. 

“We can see that,” Sans said, patting Papyrus’ hunched back under the blanket. 

“Papyrus, there’s no need to be scared or ashamed,” Frisk said, facing him, eyes soft. “Actually, we’re really grateful you did that.” 

“Frisk, who’re ya talking to?” Sans gave her a playful nudge. “Paps isn’t here, remember?”

Frisk raised both eyebrows, but played along. “Ohhhh, right . Well, if only the great Papyrus were here. If he were, I would tell how much I appreciate him.” 

A pause; then, a shift in the blankets, a louder voice. “W-well, if you have a message to pass onto Papyrus… I could do it.” 

“Oh really?” Sans said; he poked Papyrus, who help out a yelp. “And who’re you? How can we trust ya to deliver the message safe ’n sound?” 

“I’m an assistant to him! One might even call me his alter ego!” A shuffle. “The… The Grate Papyrus! That’s G-R-A-T-E. Grate.”

Frisk had to cover her mouth to hold back a giggle. Sans grinned. 

“Okay, well then, Grate Papyrus .” Frisk leaned in like she was whispering a secret, her voice becoming more motherly. Papyrus peeped out from underneath the sheets. “I want you to tell Papyrus that we- Sans and I- we’re sorry for arguing so loudly in front of him. And we’re sorry that it got so bad, he had to throw soup at us to get us to stop. But we’re not sorry he did, because it snapped us out of it. And that’s what is so important about Papyrus- he grounds us. So there’s no need to hide and feel bad about it, when it’s us who should feel bad.” 

“What the k-” Sans paused, then started over. “What Frisk said. ’M sorry Paps.” 

Papyrus paused, then sat up, pulling the covers off of him. His eyes were wide. “Really?” 

Sans smiled crookedly, then patted Papyrus’ head. “Really.”

 


 

“... Sans?” 

They had fallen asleep together, the three of them, on Papyrus’ bed. It was a tight fit, but they made it work. 

Frisk had another convulsing nightmare; Sans was there, wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair and whispering shut up Paps is gonna wake up shh over and over soothingly. 

At the sound of Frisk’s sleepy voice, Sans glanced down. “Hm?” 

“I’m still…” Frisk’s mouth opened into a gaping yawn, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Okay.”

“We’re still fighting.”

“Uh-huh.” 

There was a tiny quiet.

“I can’t stop you from doing this stupid plan, can I?” Frisk said. 

“Nope,” Sans agreed. 

“I can’t help?”

“No can do.” 

“Sans.”

“Frisk.” Sans’ white orbs bore into Frisk’s brown ones, made serious by sleepiness. “I’m gonna be fine.”

“Fuck you,” Frisk grumbled, snuggling closer. In a second’s time, she really did fall asleep, and Sans was left to stare at the slowly rotating fan on the ceiling, waiting for unconsciousness to catch him too.

Tomorrow was going to be a real doozy…

Notes:

how will frisk and sans ever get over this one, hm?

prepare yourself for the next two chapters. if you thought these past 11 were a lot,
the next few are going to blow your mind!

as always, thank you for reading <3
please kudos and comment!!!

until next time,
zu <3

Chapter 12: in which sans regrets

Summary:

… but on what specifically, there’s too many to name one.

Notes:

my brother, reading this chapter,
"how did you write 20 pages of nothing?"

yeah, prepare yourself. this one's frustrating.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The forecast on his phone said it was going to be a little chillier out. As such, he decided to bundle on more than his usual get-up; he actually put on a pair of sweatpants, along with a sweater. He dropped Papyrus off at Toriel’s; he was straightening his jacket when he heard a faint curse coming from the bathroom. 

There was only one person here who swore like a sailor; he exited his room and padded up to the bathroom door, knocking. The string of swears stopped abruptly. “Hey, Frisk. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” came the grumbled reply, although it sounded strained. “It’s just-”

“Just?”

A pause, then a rustle of fabric. 

“My dress is being annoying,” Frisk replied.

“D’ya need help?”

There was silence. Then-

“Sure, why the hell not.” Frisk swung the door open, looking immensely tired.

Her hair hung messy around her shoulders; her hair fell over her face as her hands awkwardly tried to keep the back of her dress in place. It was a pale, sparkling silver with a sweetheart neckline, the skirt fanning around gently to around her mid-thigh. The issue of it, however, was the insanely complicated ribbons intricately holding the dress together. And they were very. Very.

Tangled.

“Aw, jeez,” Sans said as he took one look at it. “What happened?” 

“Stop being condescending and help me already.”

He laughed a little at her expense; a bit of a mean one. He took the ends of the ribbon and gave them a sharp tug. “Magic word, kiddo .”

He was expecting her to snap back- a sharp retort, something cutting. But she only stiffened, a breath hitching in her throat before she turned her head further away; he caught her lower lip tremble a little as though he had physically slapped her. 

He leaned back a bit, the teeniest smidge unsure now. It was dizzying how fast she switched, from someone so capable to someone Sans could easily hurt. He decided not to say anything further, concentrating on working out the knots of the drawstrings. 

“You know, Sans, I’ve been thinking.” 

Sans paused. He was about to finish tying her a final bow on her dress. “You? Thinkin’? Color me impressed.”

Frisk let out a little, surprised humorous noise- he liked that he could surprise a laugh out of her. “You’re a real jerk.”

“It’s pronounced Sans.”

She laughed again, and this time it was less heavy. “Go ahead, pal. What were ya thinking about?”

She hesitated. “About us. Just… what this is, and what it means to me.”

Sans was silent as he processed her words. Luckily, Frisk filled in the void.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how grateful I am towards you.” Her hands found the edge of her skirt, and she clenched the fabric tightly. “You trusted me- you even helped me. You let me into my home, and above all, you’ve honestly taken really good care of me.”

“Yer talkin’ an awful lot like some 5 years ago,” Sans said slowly.

Frisk shook her head, eyes shining. “I know these last few weeks have been really horrible-”

“Frisk-”

“I just wanted to say sorry,” she said quietly, half-turning around. Her eyes, surprisingly, were clear, the deepest shade of jasper. “And that I hope you can forgive me.”

“For what?” Sans finally tied the dress, his fingers tugging a little more sharply than he intended. “Bein’ mad that I’m a bonehead?”

“I-” Something devastating flashed across Frisk’s gaze, and she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “... Nevermind. Let’s just go.” 

She made to move past him, but Sans grabbed her arm. Realizing his mistake, his grip immediately loosened, about to yank free- but rather than flinch, Frisk leaned into his grip, her other arm grasping at his jacket sleeve like she needed the support. That ragged look was back, etching itself in lines across Frisk’s face. 

“Frisk.” He said her name slowly, seriously- he said it with the meticulous affection of someone pouring tea for a sick friend. “Let’s talk.”

“We can’t,” Frisk bit out, and now there were tears glossing over her eyes, the brush of bone against skin causing her to shake. “I can’t.”

“Like hell you can’t.” His eyes fizzled away for a second, stuttering as he tried to grapple his emotions into obedience. “This ain’t happening again.”

You’re not leaving us again.

Frisk flinched just a little before suppressing it, biting her lip and looking him straight in the eye. “It’s not like that, I promise.”

“It’s not?” He was unconvinced. “’Cause that sure sounded like a goodbye if I ever heard one.”

Frisk shook her head. “Promise.” she hesitated, and then said hesitantly. “I’m not going anywhere, Sans.” 

Sans stepped back. He hadn’t meant to; it was an unconscious reflex. It was just what Sans did; whenever he got uncomfortable, or if something was a little too much for him to deal with, he’d take a step back.

It was the same swooping sensation as he’d had at the first party. When she was dancing; when she kicked off her heels, and her hair was sticking to her sweaty skin, and she was smiling, really smiling, for the first time in what seemed like forever. He felt it then; he felt it now. 

It hadn’t been an entirely pleasant sensation, and it still wasn’t. He felt prickly all over, especially where his clothes rubbed against the surface of his bones. The smell coming off her was edging on overwhelming- something smoky, citrusy, and so distinctly her . The bathroom light was suddenly pooling all over her skin, giving it a golden glow. It was weird . He felt weird. 

Sans  didn’t really understand what kind of emotion Frisk’s words had elicited out of him. The truth was, he hadn’t thought much of his and Frisk’s relationship at all. It was just the same easy Frisk-and-Sans it had always been, since when he first met her. That was how it was supposed to be. 

But that was the issue, wasn’t it? Frisk wasn’t a monster; she wasn’t immortal. Their relationship, much like her, was supposed to always be growing and changing. 

Growth scared Sans. Change scared Sans.

Frisk must have seen something flicker in his eyes, because something dark and conflicted contorted her expression for the briefest of moments, before she let go of his arm.

“Come on,” she muttered. “We gotta go.”

She walked downstairs, leaving Sans in the bathroom staring after her. 

Eventually, he rejoined her downstairs; silently, she offered her hand. Silently, Sans took it. It felt awkward to touch her, and he didn’t know why. They teleported to the front of the Xienthyst Church, where Frisk abruptly pulled away and began walking away from him.

Sans panicked, and grabbed at her arm. She froze.

There were so many things he wanted to say. He wanted to try to understand what was going on between the two of them, because apparently it was a lot bigger than just her aunt. He wanted, despite his own nature, for things to be okay between them. 

“Stay safe,” was what came out instead. “I’m not gonna be there to protect you if something happens.”

Frisk’s cheeks looked suspiciously red, but he couldn’t really tell in the cool darkness of the night. “I can take care of myself.” 

“I know.” He let go, finally. “I just worry.”

She looked like she was about to cry again. “Worry about yourself.”

“I can take care of myself,” he replied, and that got a slightly hysterical laugh.

“Bye, Sans. Good luck.” She straightened her skirt at him and offered a shaky smile, before melting into the crowd. He watched her go, dark moving bodies swallowing her glittery dress before it was gone completely, before teleporting away in another flash of blue. 

Instantly, when he teleported into the neighborhood, he felt something was wrong. It was the sickening sensation of being watched.

Just for show, Sans flashed a little more of his teeth, his eye flickering to a dangerous blue. “An escort? Just for me? Ya shouldn’t have.” 

No one came out; the shadows were still. Sans shoved his hands in his pockets, the perfect picture of boredom.

“See, me ’n my friend are kinda fighting right now. So I’m a little tired. If we could just skip all this trouble of me and you fighting, that’d be just swell.” 

There was a little rustle at this; Sans eyes flashed brighter, and his head snapped into the direction of the sound.

“Gotcha.” 

There was a loud, ruptured sound of exploding asphalt as a dozen bones erupted from the sound of the sound. 

The dust settled, and there was somebody left crouching, coughing a little. Alfred .

“Not going for the disguise this time?” He couldn’t help it; some disgust trickled into his freezing calm. “I would have expected a mask, maybe some sunglasses.”

Alfred rose, his expression perfectly schooled into that of neutrality as he brushed off his pants from the dust. He was dressed very primly- a cream-colored suit, his hair slicked back and his shoes shined. On his right finger sat a fat gold ring. He looked, in short, like a target. 

“I thought you never missed,” Alfred said. “How disappointing.” 

Sans spat out a derisive sound. “My bad for not wanting to immediately spear you to death. Bloodlust isn’t something I know a lot about. Luckily, I’m slowly learning it from good Samaritans like you.” 

“You think I’m bloodthirsty?”

“I think the Xienthyst Church is bloodthirsty,” Sans said conversationally. “Tying genocide with religion? That’s kinda a wuss move, don’tcha think? Why not just murder monsters in the open?”

Alfred didn’t respond, just tightened his jaw. It was response enough.

“Thanks for not disguising yourself. It’s great to know you don’t even feel the slightest bit of shame for what you’ve been doing.” Sans’ grin stretched wider. “I have to say, even though I knew the Church was behind the murders, it’s still crazy to get such a blatant confirmation. Tell me- how’d you know I’d be here?” 

The real question Sans was asking- how did he get here before I did? 

“Because you made a mistake.” Alfred’s face was still. “You miscalculated.”

Sans laughed. “Sure, buddy.”

“Are you forgetting where Frisk is?”

His laugh was cut off, and there was a ringing silence as the tension thickened exponentially.

“Pal, I better be wrong in thinking you just threatened her.” 

“If the Xienthyst Church is as bloodthirsty as you stated, and you just left her on her own at the Church-” Alfred’s mouth twitched. “Well. It’s just common sense, then, isn’t it?”

Sans almost snapped something angrily back, but bit his tongue. He needed to collect himself. Alfred had come here with some kind of agenda, not to catch him; there was some ulterior motive here. And if Sans wanted to dig any information from this guy, he needed to do it calmly.

“You’re really kind of a freak,” Sans said, his smile ticking into a sneer. “Alright then, Alfred . I’ll bite. I thought the Xienthyst Church was only against monsters. What are you planning on doing to her?”

“I can’t say,” Alfred replied, although his eyes flashed at this. Like he was trying to say something else. “I’m in charge of you tonight.”

“Who’s in charge of Frisk, then?”

“I didn’t realize you cared so much.” Alfred tilted his head.

“A lotta other people care about her, bud. Not just me.” Sans shook her head. “She’s beloved by the entire monster community. She’s practically a princess among us. If you hurt her-”

“We won’t hurt her unless you do as you’re told, Sans.”

Sans let out another booming laugh. He didn’t even dignify that with a response as he lifted his hand and plunged it down, summoning a gaster blaster fire at him. 

Alfred’s eyes widened just a fraction, and he spat out a curse as he lunged out of the way.

Sans teleported, at his side as Alfred stumbled to a stop. “Where do you think yer goin’, pal?” he said, eyes very wide and very blue. Before he could summon a bone to spear Alfred into a human kebab, Alfred threw out a fist. Sans neatly dodged, taking one light step back. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Sans.”

“Aww. Thanks, pal.” Bone after bone popped into existence behind Sans’ back, all of them aimed to skew Alfred. “’Fraid I can’t say the same.” 

All you could hear was the terrible shhk of air as it was sliced by hurtling bones. Alfred evaded about two or three, before one inevitably dug straight through his calf. He let out a gurgled, hoarse cry of pain, his eyes going red- and the hair hummed suddenly with that same color. Hundreds of glowing scarlet spears popped into existence around Alred like an army, launching themselves at the spray of bones. The responding wave cut through the rest of the bones, and the broken pieces of bone began falling like snow in the space between him and Sans. 

“Huh,” Sans said, an unreadable expression on his face. “Undie’s here.”  

Alfred glared up at him with bloodshot eyes, the color fading fast. Then he crumpled to the floor, clutching his leg in pain. They had been so consumed in the fight, they hadn’t heard the faint sounds of sirens approaching. 

Sans glanced over at Alfred, something darker in his eyes. “So this was your plan all along.”

“Hands up!” roared a police officer, leaping out of the car, brandishing a pistol. Sans didn’t move, his gaze sliding leisurely over to the cars pulling up around him. One, two, three, four- the Xienthyst Church sure wasn’t taking any chances. 

There were about 9 officers. Sans slowly raised his hands up- not like that would stop him from doing anything if he really wanted to. He was contemplating on using soul manipulation to put everyone out of commission- and then he noticed the 10th and final officer come out. Undyne

Sans’ eyes went dark, just for a second.

Was it just a coincidence, or was it something more? 

The monster traitor couldn’t have been Undyne. It made the least sense. Undyne was the self-proclaimed defender of justice. It was impossible.

But. Alfred had somehow arrived early. All the information leaked- Undyne had access to them, too. Everything lined up a little too perfectly.

Undyne strolled up, taking in the scene. Sans, standing with the most unapologetic expression. Alfred, bent on the ground in clear pain. The sprinkled blood splattered everywhere on the street. The bones. Then her eyes fell back on Sans. 

“I’ll be damned,” Undyne said. “You really can hold up on your own.”

Her voice was edged with surprise and a little bit of suspicion. Which was hilarious, as she was so suspicious herself.

Sans humored her with a dry, dead chuckle. “Guess you could say I had a bone to pick with him.”

Someone coughed.

“Man, tough crowd.” Sans shrugged, his hands still poised in the air. “If you’re gonna do the whole corrupt cop schtick, at least have a sense or humor. Jeez.”

“What did you just say?” seethed one of the officers. Undyne held up a hand.

“Let it go, Hank.”

“Yeah, Hank.” Sans’ eyes found Officer Hank’s, and gave him a wink. “Fraternizing the enemy ain’t a good look for the heroes.”

“Sans, stop being insufferable,” Undyne said, an edge to her voice. “You’re making everything harder.”

“Me.” Sans slowly, very slowly, turned his head towards her. “You should stick to bein’ a traitor, Undie, ’cause comedy ain’t your thing.”

A vein bulged out of Undyne’s forehead. “What did you just call me?”

“Did you put the kid in danger?” Sans asked dangerously. But that wasn’t the big issue. Undyne had betrayed all of monsterkind- but at the moment, all he could think about was Frisk’s shaky smile as it dissolved into smoke in his mind. 

Undyne’s eyes widened with alarm. “She’s in danger?”

“Don’t play dumb, Undie,” Sans said, laughing hollowly. “It suits ya, but it pisses me off.”

If there was anything that riled Undyne up, it was being insulted. Repeatedly. Especially under stress and fear. She was a simple creature, really- when pressured, she responded the only way she knew how- with physical violence. 

Undyne threw herself at Sans, howling wildly- the other officers yelled and reached for their weapons, but had to throw themselves back, because Sans had caused a ring of bones to explode around him, keeping the cops out and locking Undyne and himself in. 

Sans was a stagnant creature. He liked to stay where he was. But if pressured to move forward, he did so- violently.

He dodged a thrown punch at Undyne, another bone bursting from the ground and launching her up- she shrieked, before spinning in middair and launching an air strike of a dozen red spears. He stepped out of the way- but had to teleport immediately, because Undyne had hit the ground and summoned her weapon and was lashing out at him with it.

The bones eventually wore down as Sans’ stamina did- by the time the officers were able to get through- it took an hour- the fight had devolved from explosions and magic to cursing and weak slapping.

 


 

He was interrogated thoroughly by an Officer Shelly. Well. He says  ‘thoroughly’- but it was more like Shelly kept pressing him for answers while Sans stared her stonily in the face. Eventually, after an hour or so of ‘questioning’, he was led into a holding cell.

It was a small, cramped room that smelled strangely like mildew. There was a moldy mattress shoved into one corner, and a urinal on the other. Sans sat on the floor sandwiched between them, staring at the bars that separated him from freedom.

He hadn’t trusted Undyne enough to stay in the cell for more than 10 minutes; but when he tried to teleport out of the handcuffs and the police station as a whole, he found out very quickly he couldn’t. His magic had been suppressed, somehow. He wasn’t sure how. Maybe it had something to do with the handcuffs. It felt oddly heavy around his wrists. 

Betrayal bled through Sans, cold and sluggish. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why, even now. Because of his carelessness, Frisk was probably suffering. He didn’t want to think about what was happening to her, but his brain wouldn’t comply. Were they torturing her? Was she already dead? Image after image, it was like some horrible scrapbook he was mentally flipping through. He dropped his head, digging his fingers into his skull; but even through those sparks of pain, he still saw

Before he could descend further in this desperate spiral, there was loud shouting, a scuffling of shoes; Sans glanced up blearily, and his eyes snapped open, wide awake. Undyne was being thrown in the cell straight across from him.

“You BASTARDS!” Undyne screamed, slamming herself against the bars, her voice cracking. “Let us out now!” 

It had taken four officers to drag her into the cell, and all four of them shot her a disgusted look before walking away.

“Dammit,” she growled, slumping against the cell door, kicking at the air angrily. 

“Uh oh, someone’s in trouble,” Sans called out, his voice a little scratchy from lack of use. Undyne turned to look at him.

“We’re both in trouble, numbskull,” she snapped. Then she hit her head against the bars. “Dammit . It wasn’t supposed to go like this.” 

“Yeah,” Sans said dryly. “I bet you weren’t expecting to be turned in.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What comes around goes around.”

“I didn’t betray you, you absolute raging moron,” Undyne seethed. 

“You got these stupid things on me,” Sans said, raising his shackled wrists and shaking them for good measure. “You as good as got me thrown in here.”

“I know that thick skull of you is jammed so far up your skeleton butt you can’t see, but if you could, you would notice that I’m also in jail!” Undyne shouted, shaking the bars for emphasis.

“Whose fault is it for trusting humans?” Sans snapped back.

“No. No . You are not going to blame me for this,” Undyne growled, stabbing a finger in his direction. “Not you, loverboy.”

Just even the roundabout reminder of Frisk made his chest tighten. “Your naivety got us in this mess. I should have known better to involve someone who worked with the police.”

“Not everyone here is a piece of shit, Sans!” Undyne’s grip on the metal was so tight it might have bent at her fingers. “You don’t see me assuming all skeletons are assholes like you, just because you are.”

“Oh, real nice, Undyne, I’m really feelin’ the love-”

“You shouldn’t have let Frisk off by herself.”

“I know that,” Sans said lethally.

“We’re both so stupid,” Undyne said absentmindedly, and her throat sounded closed. Like she was trying not to cry.

They were quiet for a moment. Sans broke it.

“So, just to clarify. You didn’t betray me.”

“No,” Undyne said, sounding exhausted. “No, Sans. I didn’t.” 

Sans slumped back, and everything complicated that had been swirling unbidden in his chest dissipated, leaving him hollow. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“None of this makes sense.” Undyne sounded exhausted. “We’ve been set up.”

“No kiddin’?”

“Be quiet,” Undyne growled. “Not two seconds ago you thought I turned tail on all of monsterkind to become some human dick sucker.”

“You certainly picked up on their language,” Sans pointed out, but didn’t push further. “D’ya have any idea who?”

Undyne shook her head. “Whatever operation they were planning, I wasn’t in on it. One of them grabbed me and told me to get ready, we were gonna catch a criminal who’d been slipping away from us for a while.” 

“They didn’t specify who?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t ask.”

Undyne scowled. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment! I just wanted to bust some ass. I was stressed. Give me a break.”

Sans leaned away from the sticky wall. “They must’ve at least guessed we were workin’ together.”

“The only way they could’ve made that deduction is if they knew about us,” Undyne muttered, rubbing her chin. “I know we have televised history with each other, but still… the only person I can think who could connect all the dots would be-”

“KCM,” Sans agreed. “They know we’re onto them. They’re trying to cover it up.” 

“So KCM is Alfred?” Undyne said, confused. “Is that it? Have we figured it out?”

“Maybe.” Sans felt a trickle of unease as he said it. Something didn’t feel quite right. “We just need to focus on getting outta here.” 

“Well, it’s not happening by magic,” Undyne grumbled, shaking her shackles. “These stupid things lock it.”

“Maybe you can chew your way out.”

Undyne eyed the bars like she was seriously considering it. “Did Alfred say anything to you before we got back? Maybe he accidentally told you a clue, or something.”

Sans thought back, combing over every single word they had exchanged. “They’re doin’ something to Frisk. Someone’s supposed t’be ‘in charge’ of her. Whatever that means.”

“Do you think they cornered her like they did you?”

Sans’ eyes went dark. He didn’t know the answer, and the possibilities terrified him.

 


 

He worried.

He worried about Papyrus; how was he? Did he know? Did Tori know? He knew Papyrus would be okay in Toriel’s care, but he still worried. Paps could get into all kinds of trouble if you left him alone long enough.

He found himself thinking about the general store, too, of all things… he wondered if maybe Toriel and Papyrus were keeping it running without him. 

He was kicking himself over not leaving Papyrus with further instructions. Or telling Toriel, at least, where he was going. A backup plan, just in case things went wrong. He was worried about Undyne, how she was handling it. They talked sparingly throughout the day, but Sans could tell she was worried, too. About Undyne. About the monsters. The Xienthyst Church.

He was worried, too.

 


 

Mostly, though, he worried about Frisk.

 


 

Time bled like a half-healed wound, slow and sludgy. He retreated inwards, curling up into himself in the corner of the cell. Guards filtered in and out; the lights went on and out. Undyne’s voice, sometimes shouting and sometimes softer, more vulnerable. He thought he could hear his own voice somewhere in this cacophony of disjointed sound, thin and tired. 

The darkness is eating away at his resolve, like water eroding sand castle walls. There is so much to think about, so much to plan- but his skull feels like it’s collapsing inward. Through the exhaustion, Sans thinks he can see him , violent eyes in the corners of Sans’ mind and vision, always watching.

It all becomes very overwhelming- the damp mildew, the uncomfortable mattress, the stench of piss and tears. It smells like home. Too much like home . . .

“Sans, how many times do I have to tell you? An organized space is an organized mind.”

Sans laughed. “I don’t know what you mean. It is organized.”

Gaster turned to look at Sans disdainfully. They both knew Sans was very obviously bullshitting. It looked like a mini tornado had made itself at home in Sans’ room.

“What am I going to do with you,” Gaster sighed, shaking his head, and in the corner of Sans’ eye, he saw the grandfather clock sway steadily in the background.

A sharp pain spreads dully from his head. He had hit himself. It is somewhat helpful; he can ground himself now.

He wished there was light. If there was light, and sound, and if the room was bigger, he would be okay. The darkness felt too much like the swaying layers of Gaster’s black cape. If he reached out, he could almost feel the whisper of velvet slide between his fingers like water.

He looked out from beyond his sad little hell, over to Undyne. The fight hasn’t completely drained from her, but she was wearing down. She’s biting her lip, pacing back and forth, muttering under her breath. Something about battle plans. Something about Alphys. Something about Frisk.

Frisk . Something hot slipped into his throat, like the burn of tears. Someone else he was about to lose to the darkness. It was maddening. 

Was she okay?

Was Papyrus okay?

Was Toriel okay?

Was Undyne okay?

He had gotten greedy. He had begun to trust that the world would treat them all well because they were good people. But that had never been the case- below or above the Surface.

The shackles seemed to sear into his bones, weighing heavy like the truth. He had only questions, but no way to scour out answers. For the first time in his life, Sans was out of tricks.

“Think harder, Sans. There is always a way.”

“Dude.” Sans gestured indignantly towards the dummy Gaster was having him practice on. They were outside the lab for once, in a wide field of broken bottles and dusty soil. “I can’t blow it up. It’s beyond me.”

“How so?”

“I’m not strong enough.” Sans scoffed. “Even you can’t disintegrate it.”

“True.” Gaster folded his arms behind his back and approached the dummy, inspecting its shiny surface. “The metal alloy I crafted this out of is indeed hardy. But then, Sans-”

Gaster’s eyes glowed; in an implosion of violet magic, a Gaster Blaster appeared behind him, opening its maw, a pulsing orb of light growing in the center. 

A huge laser erupted from its mouth, encasing the dummy in a bright purple light; Sans had to look away. When he glanced back, the body was covered in what looked like ice. Calmly, without turning around, Gaster flicked his finger upward, and a bone speared through the center, shattering the dummy. Sans’ mouth was agape as metal shards began raining from above. 

Gaster smile. “You must think outside the box.”

“Hard t’do that when I’m in a box,” Sans grumbled at his own flashback, his fingers digging into his arm. 

“Has it gotten so bad you’ve begun talking to yourself?”

Sans stilled. Undyne leapt to attention, immediately throwing herself at the speaker, teeth bared.

“You.” 

“Me,” Alfred said calmly, and Sans was a little sickened to see just how put together he looked. A crisp white suit, shined leather shoes, and a cane to boot. He might as well have donned a fedora and put on a Cockney accent. “I see you are both doing well.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve to come here,” Undyne snarled. “You traitorous, filthy, groveling pig .”

“Cage a bird, and it won’t fly,” Alfred said, wholly unfazed. “But to stop it from singing, you need to trap its spirit.” 

Undyne’s eyes burned a murderous red, and she spat in Alfred’s direction. He watched her, before shaking his head and turning and walking in Sans’ direction.

Sans’ eyes had gone dark, but at the approaching sound of Alfred’s footsteps, he barely glanced up; despite the shackles, his eye glowed a faint blue. “You might wanna back up, buddy.” His voice was raspy, like he hadn’t used it in a while. “I can’t stand the smell of trash. Don’t wanna throw up all over yer clothes.”

“I was hoping, between the two of you, that you would be more rational.”

“I think bein’ rational was thrown to the wind when you ambushed me.”

“Wasn’t it the other way around? Don’t be upset just because you got outsmarted.”

“So you came here to what, gloat?” Sans snorted. “Congratulations, yer smarter than a sack of bones. Yer mother must be so proud.” 

Alfred crouched so that he and Sans were at eye level. “You must listen to me.”

“Preparin’ myself for your shitty villain monologue.” 

“Frisk is in danger.”

It got real quiet, real fast. Sans tilted his head, his voice losing whatever fake joviality it had. “I figured.”

“I don’t have time to explain the Church’s insane plan,” Alfred said, reaching into his pocket and pulling some small and silver. The key . “But the lowdown is that it involves sacrificing Frisk.”

“What?” Undyne shrieked, as Sans tried to process this information while Alfred stood up, shoving the key into the lock and turning it. 

The door swung open; Alfred turned swiftly to unlock Undyne’s door, while Sans slowly got up. “It’s already been leaked to the papers Frisk’s re-emergence and alignment with the Xienthyst Church. I have no idea what if you’ve heard, if you’ve heard anything- but if you have, it wholeheartedly is not true. She’s imprisoned.”

Sans cautiously exited the cell; Undyne stumbled out eagerly. Alfred fished in his other pocket for another key, and reached for Undyne’s hands, shoving it into the shackle lock.

Alfred went to open Sans’ chains. As soon as they were off, Sans’ eye blazed a bright cyan, and he snapped his fingers, seizing control of Alfred’s soul, turning it blue. Alfred could barely widen his eyes as Sans launched him back so he went flying into the wall. It crumbled inward, Alfred gurgling out a pained cry.

“Why?” He strode closer, his pace furious, until he was only an inch away from Alfred’s face. His dark eyes were sparkling with so many conflicting emotions. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

Alfred swallowed audibly, and lowered his eyes. “... There was no change of heart. Only change of plan.”

Sans felt his mouth twitch into something like a frown. “Plan.”

“Frisk doesn’t have much time.” Alfred leaned closer, something like desperation finally leaking into his voice. “And I lack the power. You must help me.”

“You could have just asked us,” Undyne snapped. “We would have helped. Instead, you threw us in jail -”

“To save face. I had to. I couldn’t let them know I was-” Alfred hesitated. “I will explain later. But please. We need to go. Now.”

Sans stayed frozen for a split second longer before quietly swearing, pulling away, letting Alfred’s soul go. He fell from the wall, stumbling, and flinched when Sans grabbed his arm and Undyne’s.

It took more out of him than he would have liked; he was exhausted and hadn’t used his magic in a while. They landed in the courtyard of the Church. It was dark out, the night sky settling over the tall spirals, making it seem more ominous. 

“How long has it been since Frisk was taken?” Sans said, staring up at the building.”

“Two days. So as long as you were jailed,” Alfred replied.

“Goddammit.” Undyne shook her head. “This is crazy. This is insane. How the hell did we end up working with the enemy ?”

“We need to split up,” Alfred said, brushing off his pants, looking a little nauseous from the teleportation. “Frisk said there were a couple possibilities as to where they would move- if we’re lucky, she’ll still be in the church basement. But she might have already been moved to the nave-”

“Frisk said?” Undyne interrupted. 

“Yes.” Alfred tapped his foot impatiently. “I would have attempted to smuggle her out myself, but she insisted on grabbing you two first. She told me the odds of saving her would be greatly increased if you both were involved.”

“This was her plan?” Sans couldn’t believe it. And here, he had been doubting Frisk the entire time- just what was she thinking? What had she been hiding from him?

No time to ponder it now. “We’ll split up, then. I don’t know where the basement is.” 

“I can check the basement,” Alfred said. “You should go inspect the nave.”

“The hell is a nave?” Undyne already had a glowing scarlet spear out, spinning it in her hand.

“Where mass is held- the room with the altar.” Alfred’s eyes darted around. “Stay quiet, and do not let yourselves be caught. The Xienthyst Church has the authority in the palm of their hand- we have no idea what sort of security we’re dealing with.”

“We got magic,” Sans said. “Worry ’bout yerself, pal. Don’t die.”

With curt nods, they split off.

From the courtyard, Sans turned left, slipping past unlocked doors into a hallway- he remembered the path vaguely from the recruitment party he had attended with Frisk. That seemed ages ago. 

Undyne’s footsteps stuttered behind Sans. “Hey-”

Sans turned around impatiently; what could possibly be so important-

“That’s blood.” Undyne pointed at the ground; sure enough, Sans could make out faint splatters on the tiled floor. “Human blood.”

He knew what she was implying; he closed his mind off that possibility immediately, but felt his rage simmer significantly more. “Keep goin’, Undie. It means we’re on the right track.”

Soon enough, they ran into their first body.

It was laying limp, just a few feet from the huge double doors that presumably lead to the nave. At the sight of it, both Sans and Undyne halted.

His head went blank, a terrifying blank.  He couldn’t reject the thought now.

What if that’s Frisk.

What if that’s Frisk.

What if that’s Frisk.

What if that’s Frisk.

He didn’t realize how labored his breathing had gotten until he felt a tight pressure on his shoulder; he glanced up. Undyne was squeezing it, her jaw clenched. Then she slowly let go, and Sans, as though on command, began walking forward.

Part of him wanted to turn around and run. He didn’t want to know if it was Frisk’s body. The faint buzz in his body grew at an exponential rate, until his entire head was loud static. 

Undyne was right behind him; they both slowed as they got closer. In the red glow of Undyne’s spear, he could make out mangled legs… quivering fingers… a red blade, sticking out in the middle of their chest…

No. This wasn’t Frisk. A huge rush of relief threatened to make Sans’ knees give out, but it was quickly followed by paralyzing shock. Sans recognized this man.

This body was Leo’s, and there was a red blade buried deep inside him.

“This was the kid’s doing,” Undyne voiced his thoughts, in blatant disbelief. Immediately, she crouched, putting two fingers to the man’s neck. “... I’m not getting a pulse.”

“He must have brought her here,” Sans reasoned, mind whirring. Too much information, all at once. “She fought back, clearly.”

“She might have already escaped,” Undyne muttered, standing up. “What do we do now?”

“She could be anywhere now.” Sans stared at Leo. Humans looked so strange in death. They were paler, more gray, like they were frozen over stiff- he suddenly had a vision of Frisk’s broken body he was standing over, and he quickly shook his head to dispel that thought. “Check the rest of the building. I’ll look in the nave. We’ll regroup in the courtyard.”

Undyne gave a short nod, then disappeared swiftly. She was a very fast runner- she could cross the entire Underground within a matter of days. Combing through the church should be fast.

Back to the matter at hand. Sans stepped over Leo’s legs, and pushed at the giant doors. They opened quite easily, as though they had been waiting for him.

He took one step inside, and recoiled instantly.

The lights were all out, except for at the very center. The white light illuminated the two figures in the middle; the altar had been knocked over, and one of them was draped over, a curtain of blood spilling forth and trickling in rivulets around them like a bloody halo. The other was standing over, panting heavily, nearly stumbling. Their head snapped towards the entrance where Sans had just entered. 

Sans didn’t even think; he teleported right behind them, grabbing their arms and wrenching it behind their back. “I gotcha,” he whispered; he was finding it hard to swallow in the wake of his sheer, absolute relief. “I gotcha, Frisk.”

Frisk stiffened, her jaw trembling wildly. 

Her lovely silver dress was torn into shreds, handing like ribbons at her sides. Through the thin, ripped fabric was a rainbow of bruises, blood oozing thick from wounds, half dried and half fresh. Sweat had collected on her brow, dripping down her face like frozen tears. There were heavy shadows under her eyes like she had not slept. Her mouth was cracked and stained red. And she seemed smaller somehow- like her body could not support the weight of who she was. 

“S-... Sans,” she whispered; speaking caused her lip to split, and blood trickled forth as the words spilled, too. “You… came?”

The disbelief in her voice broke him; his grip on her arms tightened. “I did,” he said tightly, lest his voice gave way too. “Of course I did.” 

“You… need to let go,” she said, staring straight ahead at the body. “I need to… f-finish the job…”

There was something so heartbreaking about how she said it. Frisk, the pacifist- asking for violence. Sans shook his head.

“Believe me, she would deserve it,” Sans said. He didn’t even question it. The betrayal, out of everything that had happened tonight, was only a small surprise. “But you can’t. You can’t kill.”

“I’ve already killed,” Frisk managed between numb lips, and this was what shattered her; she spun to face him, eyes wide and glossy- and scarlet. Frisk had LOVE points.

She must have seen the recognition in his eyes, because her lip quivered before she sunk into his arms, gripping him so hard it nearly hurt. Sans didn’t pull away; he crushed her against him, standing there, bathed in holy light and sinful blood, until there was the unmistakable sound of police sirens, red and blue lights surrounding them…

Notes:

are you confused? it'll all (hopefully) be cleared up next chapter, when we get a deep dive into frisk's perspective.

kudos and comment please !! they are the life and blood of writers like me who need reminders their writing isn't shit and worth something HELP

until next time,
zu <3

Chapter 13: in which frisk regrets

Summary:

… it’s time to finally see what she thinks of all this.

Notes:

hey! so i'm ... 7 months late. ignore that. the last few months of my life have been insane, and also senior year has been kicking my ass. wish me luck as i finish up college apps!!! :,)

on another note, i am SO . sorry i took so long to finish this. as a gift, this chapter is 31 PAGES ON GOOGLE DOCS. YIKES. i got sudden bursts of motivation after seeing some random new comments on this story, so thank you guys for still being interested! it means the world to me :DD

one other thing... this chapter is a lot heavier than others. so-

TW!!!!!! // death, rape (i will mark the section where it begins with a TW // RAPE and at the end of the scene with KEEP READING HERE just in case.

i also highly recommend you reread the previous chapter, just so everything comes back together. trust me, it will.

happy reading <33

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The dress wasn’t tying .

Frisk hopped around, letting out a loud curse as she awkwardly arching her back, hopping around trying to force the ribbon to knot. Ambassador, peacekeeper, princess- felled by a dress.

“Dammit!” Frisk slammed her fist onto the counter, breathing hard. She wanted to rub her face out of frustration but forced herself not to, not wanting to smudge her careful makeup. “What’s wrong with zippers? Or buttons? Why ribbons?”

Knock knock knock.

Frisk’s head jerked towards the bathroom door, as Sans’ voice came from behind it, muffled and slightly amused. “Hey Frisk. You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Frisk called, grumbling a little. “It’s just my stupid dress.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s being annoying.”

A pause. “Need any help?”

Her pride told her not to; she was still angry at Sans for not telling her anything. They were technically still fighting. Then she looked back at the back of her dress and let out a defeated sigh; she definitely wasn’t going to get this fixed anytime soon. 

She unlocked the door and pulled it open, shooting him a tired look. “Don’t make fun.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She turned around, and almost as if on cue, Sans snorted. “Nice.”

“Don’t you dare,” Frisk warned, immediately flushing.

“Don’t worry. I will knot say anything.” Sans cackled briefly at his own genius, before beginning to deftly pull the ribbons free from the deformeities she had caused. 

“I hate dressing up,” Frisk mumbled, folding herarms. “It’s so embarrassing.”

“Because you don’t even know how to dress yerself up?”

“I do!” Frisk protested, cheeks flaming. “I just can’t see very well in the back.”

“Sounds like excuses.” Sans gave a mock sad sigh. “Poor princess. Doesn’t know what t’do without her servants.”

“That’s why I have you,” Frisk replied sardonically. 

“’Scuse you. You live in my house.”

“You practically forced me to live here.”

“I don’t see you complainin’.” Sans tugged the ribbons a bit sharply, neatly dodging Frisk’s reciprocating elbow to his ribs. “Woah. Watch it, freeloader. Or I’ll raise rent.” 

Frisk rolled her eyes and waited impatiently for him to finish tying her dress. “Are you done? I have important places to be.” 

“Uh huh.” Sans carefully pulled the bow tight, then pulled back. “Like partyin’ it up?”

“It’s hardly partying,” Frisk argued, turning around. If you didn’t know Sans, you wouldn’t be able to tell how annoyed he was- but the smile was sharper than usual, just barely condescending. She folded her arms, feeling a little defensive. “You know, while you have your plan, I have mine.” 

“This plan involve dressin’ up fancy and dancing with the enemy?” 

Frisk narrowed her eyes. “You sound jealous.”

Sans let out a derisive sound. “Wishful thinking, kiddo?”

At that, Frisk’s jaw tightened, real irritation spiking. 

She couldn’t even look at him. It was painful, to look at him straight in the eyes and know exactly how he thought of her- like a child. Someone to protect.

There were so many conflicting emotions within, slimy snakes slithering in her gut, wrapping around her lungs and squeezing. Resignation and understanding- ever since Frisk had come back, she’d been nothing but an open mess. Though Frisk was fine with being a mess- she didn’t particularly care about ‘getting better’- she hated letting people see it. The pity, the whispers, the sugarly sweet consoling tone. She couldn’t stand it. 

Sans never pitied her. Treated her like a kid, he might- but he never pitied her. He held her at a distance, out of a place of necessity and maybe even concern- and Frisk both loved and loathed that about him. Part of her wanted to push him away; part of her wanted to pull him closer.

There were things she couldn’t bring herself to talk about or explain. Putting it into words felt so incredibly dirty. What are these thoughts- these urges? Why are they so repulsive? Why does she find herself lingering on them for hours? They were questions she would ask herself for years, alone in her house, in a drunken or medicated daze, and still she could not find the answers. They nearly drove her insane. 

Sans was normal. He made Frisk feel ordinary. Stripped of the title Ambassador, peacekeeper, princess- she could just be herself. He didn’t try to understand her mess. There was just the light, gentle weight of his bony hand on her shoulder, attempting to ground her back to this earth with his feeble pressure. 

“... Do you see me as an equal, Sans?” 

“You seem especially close,” Aunt Lynn had commented on one outing, stirring her cup of coffee. They were sitting together in the corner of a quaint little cafe. “You and Sans. Is there something going on that I should know about?” 

Frisk was mid-sip of her own cup; she promptly spat it out, choking. “M-me and-”

“Now, I understand you’re a grown young lady who can make her own choices,” she said sternly. “But as your aunt, I think I have a say in whom you choose as your lover.” 

“Aunt Lynn, it really is not like that,” Frisk protested weakly, wiping her mouth. 

“Really? So then, who are you constantly texting when we go out?”

Frisk felt her face grow distinctly warmer. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“No? But you always respond to him the minute you can. You smile at your phone. You even laugh at him. And when you speak of him,  your face grows softer. None of these things mean anything?”

“I have the right to remain silent,” Frisk grumbled, taking another sip of her drink.

“Frisk.” Aunt Lynn’s voice had lost its light-heartedness, and Frisk reluctantly looked up. She reached across the table, her hand just shy of touching Frisk’s. “Being involved with Sans is dangerous.” 

“You have nothing to worry about.” Frisk let out a little sigh, her breath causing small ripples in the coffee. Truthfully, Frisk wasn’t as ignorant to her own feelings as perhaps a few other ditzy main characters would be. She was aware that her feelings for Sans had begun to grow into something a little more than friendly. She didn’t really understand what it meant- she tried not to think about it at all. Feelings were just feelings, and they would come and go. 

And if they stayed… Frisk would just deal with them quietly. It wasn’t something to make a huge fuss about.

“Aunt Lynn, I’m not going to try anything with Sans,” Frisk said finally, setting down her cup, looking Lynn in the eyes. “I know anything else would be… difficult.”

“Difficult is putting it lightly.” Lynn folded her arms on the table. “Do you even know how old Sans is exactly?”

That was an uncomfortable thing to think about. “Uh… hundreds of years…?”

“Put that into perspective of how old you are. How wide is the age gap, then?”

“Aunt Lynn, I already said I wasn’t going to-”

“Do you know why such large age gaps concern people?” Aunt Lynn leaned a little closer. “Because those with longer lifespans accumulate more wisdom, child. He is manipulating you in ways you cannot even see.”

“Sans isn’t like that,” Frisk argued. “He’s too… lazy.”

“You believe that?” Aunt Lynn tilted her head. “Or is it just part of the manipulation? For instance, has he ever told you a thing about himself or his past?”

Frisk hesitated.

“Has he ever once opened up to you about anything?”

“Well…”

“Has he ever once considered your feelings?” A pause. “Does he see you as an equal?”

Frisk’s eyes snapped up.

“Then you have your answer, Frisk. I am telling you, be careful around him.” 

Sans, who had reached the bottom of the stairs, paused; he glanced up at her, looking a little surprised.

“This a trick question?” he asked, shifting his feet. He still had that signature Sans smile- like he was laughing at you privately- but his eyes had softened around the corners just slightly, his own little telltale sign that showed he was taking her seriously. 

Of all people;
Of all monsters,

It had to be Sans.

It was infuriating that it was him that she inadvertently opened her heart to. She really could not have selected a more ill-equipped person. 

Sans wasn’t malicious; he was kind. She knew that from the way he held her carefully every time she came to from the ghosts that gripped her every night. She knew he paid attention; she knew he cared . But did he care enough? Did he care in the way Frisk wanted, needed him to care?

He was looking up at her, his smile shrinking as the seconds of silence dragged on. He was oddly beautiful, in a monstrous sort of way- the thought had long crossed Frisk’s mind. At first it freaked her out- really, Sans? Being beautiful ?- but the longer it sit, the more she resigned it to be the absolute truth. He was who she felt safest around. It had only taken a handful of weeks, and she…

“You’d do anything if you thought it was love, wouldn’t you, Izzy?”

Frisk swallowed and glanced down and shook her head. “Nothing. It was just a stupid question.”

She could tell he knew it wasn’t just a stupid question . He looked like he wanted to ask further, but he wasn’t sure how to ask. What to say.

Frisk didn’t want Sans to see her as a kid . Or a kiddo. Or pal, or a chum, or a buddy.

She wanted him to see her as she was.

Which was ironic, because Sans probably saw her more clearly than anyone else. He had seen her at her most vulnerable. So then, the issue really was the fact that somehow, inexplicably; Frisk had fallen a little for goofy ketchup-selling skeleton man of the underground. 

That was the bigger, more terrifying thought, because it made her hesitate.

Was her path forward really the best one . . . ?

“Yo, anyone in there?”

Frisk jerked a little; a faint, reflexive laugh slipped off her tongue, and she made it down the rest of her stairs. Her smile was a little strained, but they both pretended not to know. “Spacing off. Let’s go then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They arrived at the Xienthyst Church gates in a split second; people were flowing into the gates, all chatting and laughing. Sans let go to Frisk.

“Stay safe,” Sans said. “I’m not gonna be there to protect you if something happens.”

Frisk rolled her eyes and waved him off, adjusting her skirt and strutting through the gates.

She heard the faint magical pop as Sans disappeared. She felt a little tingle of annoyance- she knew how to take care of herself, for god’s sake- but she squared her shoulders and walked through the courtyard.

Aunt Lynn was waiting for her at the entrance of the grand doors to the hall, greeting everyone who passed, shaking hands and laughing. When her eyes fell on Frisk’s, they let up, and she immediately strutted up to her enveloping Frisk in a cloudy haze of sweet cherry perfume as she threw her arms around her.

“You made it!” Aunt Lynn pulled back, looking positively delighted as she glanced Frisk up and down. “Look at you. You’re just a vision. Like your mother.”

Frisk glowed at the praise, blushing a little. “Shouldn’t we head inside? Get ready for your opening speech?”

“Oh dear, is it that time already?” Aunt Lynn checked her phone. “I didn’t realize I was standing around here for so long. Frisk, I’ll see you in 15 minutes, darling.”

Frisk waved goodbye as her aunt dashed inside, her smile slipping a little. 

“15 minutes,” she murmured too herself; instead of following everyone down to the reception area, she took a sharp right. “Let’s make this work.” 

She loped her way back towards her aunt’s office, finding the door labeled K. Mullingham and carefully creaking it open. She fumbled around for the light switch before flicking it on; instantly the room was bathed in a tired yellow glow. 

For some reason, Frisk felt a slight chill as she entered the room; she closed her palms over her arms, rubbing them for friction as she walked deeper into the office. 

On Aunt Lynn’s desk was a stack of papers. With a tentative look behind her, Frisk went around the mahogany desk and reached for them. 

Aunt Lynn shared everything with Frisk- details of her mother, amazing food, clothes, connections. But the one thing Aunt Lynn was particularly strict on was anything related to the Church, especially activities. Often, Frisk would find her in her office, feverishly writing notes for that same stack of paper. Everytime, Frisk would ask what it was. Everytime, Aunt Lynn would dismiss her.

Not anymore.

“Alrighty, what have we got here,” Frisk muttered, licking her thumb and flipping through the contents.

The majority of it was mundane shit Frisk didn’t really care about- plans for redecoration, flower colors, the next recruitment party. A copy of Lynn’s opening speech for tonight. Frisk kept flipping. 

There was nothing.

Eventually, Frisk set down the papers, the beginnings of crushing guilt filling her gut. Was there really nothing fishy going on with her aunt? Had she suspected Lynn for nothing?

Her fingers had instinctively started to reach for her pocket, for her cellphone. She wanted to text Sans. She wanted to tell him what she’d learned. She wanted him to tell her what they should do next.

Frisk cast an uneasy glance towards the office door. There were still files in the filing cabinet she could rummage through- or Frisk could look through her computer. Still, she couldn’t rid herself of the slimy feeling she got as she considered those possibilities. Here she was, looking through all her aunt’s personal belongings, when Aunt Lynn had been nothing but warm and welcoming to her… 

Too welcoming , hissed the insistent voice in her head. 

She was logging onto the computer when she noticed a notebook sitting next to the keyboard. On the cover was scribbled something in frantic, black pen:

THE MONSTER PROBLEM.

“What the hell?” Frisk muttered, narrowing her eyes, immediately going for the notebook and practically ripping it open. 

Out from in between the sheets fell a piece of paper; a letter. 

Dear Katelynn, 

I leave Frisk and the rest in your capable hands. I have discovered something- old texts, claiming entrance straight into the heart of the hordes. Should I not come back alive, my mission failed, you know what to do next.

I love you. I’m sorry.

KCM.

The letter slipped from Frisk’s grip. 

K assandra C ollins Mullingham. Her mother. 

Beyond that letter, there were pages and pages of notes and drawings, some horrible plan Frisk couldn’t take in. It was all too shocking; everything was just too shocking. She felt the notebook slip out of her hand.

“Frisk.”

Her head jerked up, and a silent sound of surprised slipped past her lips. 

“I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

“I’m pretty sure to mean you didn’t want me to find out at all.” Frisk’s voice was achingly steady as she turned to face Aunt Lynn. Aunt Katelynn . “What do you mean the monster problem ?”

“Isn’t that why you’re breaking and entering, searching my belongings?” Aunt Lynn gave a tilt of her terrible head, and Frisk felt something like fear crawl up her spine.

“Right, like the genocide of an entire race is any less illegal.” Frisk clenched her jaw, her fingers fumbling for the edge of the worn leather cover. “I don’t know the specifics, but this is a crime . And legal repercussions aside, it’s wrong .”

“Of course you would feel that way,” Aunt Lynn said, and there was something uncharacteristically twisted in her voice, in her expression. Like just underneath her human face was something entirely non-human, squirming underneath the surface and leaking out of her eyes. “as the ambassador to monsters. Majority consensus, however, does not. You were into politics until you disappeared, were you not? Do you not know of the suffering monsters caused to humans?”

“All they wanted was to carve a life here for themselves,” Frisk argued, voice catching.

“No!” Aunt Lynn slammed a fist into the doorway, causing spidery cracks to form on the plaster. “They want to carve humans hollow. Us . For opportunities they don’t even deserve. There had to be a better way. That’s why I’m doing this. That’s why I’m sending them back.”

“Sending them back…?” It took Frisk a moment to understand what Aunt Lynn was getting at, but when she got it, her eyes widened in horror. “What, back underground? They were slowly dying there! They didn’t have food! Or sunlight , or-” she clenched her jaw. “They were suffering. And they’re so much happier, just to be exist outside. If you plan on trapping them Underground, you’d be sentencing them to die.”

“And maybe they deserve to die,” Aunt Lynn snarled. “It’s in the name, they’re monsters.”

“We call them monsters because that’s the label that was given to them,” Frisk said evenly. “That’s not who they are.” 

She couldn’t believe the things that Aunt Lynn was saying. No- the person in front of her wasn’t the Aunt Lynn she knew at all. It was someone else- something else- entirely. 

The evident betrayal hadn’t sunk in yet; all Frisk felt was a white hot heat. Maybe even some ironic amusement; she could just hear Sans now, saying something annoying like heh, told ya so kiddo. 

“But you’re making excuses,” Frisk continued, and as her anger rose, so did her voice. “You’re hiding behind religion, disguising it so no matter how sickening, it seems justified. You don’t care about any of that. You just hate them. You want them gone.”

And maybe, if Frisk hadn’t been so consumed by her anger, she would have reacted faster. She saw Aunt Lynn’s eyes narrow- her hand reach into her pocket. But Frisk didn’t react fast enough. 

All she saw was a flash of metal, a bang, and a faint sting, followed by a trickling drowsiness before the world blurred and went black… 


TW // RAPE

“Ugh…”

When Frisk came to, her head was spinning. Dizzy, and her throat was so dry. She sat up and winced, her hand immediately coming to clutch her skull, squinting her eyes into the blue darkness. 

She had woken up in a concrete room; it smelled faintly of mildew and misery. She was lying in a corner, propped up against a couple of boxes. 

“What the hell,” she muttered, slurring on her words a bit, glancing around. Shit . Quickly, her brain connected the dots, and Frisk was wide awake again. 

Someone was in front of her. Who was-?     

“Le- mmphf!”

His lips seized her, bruising them, ripping her mouth open so his tongue could invade inside, cold and wet and writhing and wrong . He was suffocating her; she couldn’t breathe. She gagged, and he shoved his tongue deeper. Tears welled in her eyes. She hated this. She wanted it to be over.

“You still take me so well, Iz… Look at you…”

What was he saying? She could barely understand. The air was suddenly so cold, so freezing. She vaguely tried to squirm away, but it was half-hearted. She remembered how it went. She would fight it, but then she’d be forced to like it. 

Leo was stretching over her like doom, skin pressing against hers; now she was burning up, hot enough to burst into fiery, painful flames. His hands were all over body, slotting in all the familiar places; a decade later, and he still knew where to touch her. 

“Stop,” she managed; her body was convulsing under his touch; from disgust or desire, did it matter? It was still reacting. She liked it. He was right. She liked this. She was made for this. She was made for him. “Stop.”

He was panting into her neck, and Frisk wanted to rip herself out of her skin and crawl away from him. Why was he doing this? Why was he here?

Why?

Whywhwywhuwhwywywhyeyhywhewyywheyyhw-

“Stay down,” he groaned, and he shoved her hard enough against the stone floor to cause bruising. She cried out in pain, and he groaned at this too. He was moving on top of her, his hand pressing on her back to keep her pinned. His other hand spanned against the flat of her stomach, gripping her hips and hauling it upwards. “There’s my good girl…”

“No-” 

Oh. A familiar feeling.

“No-” 

It stretched. It hurt. It burned.

“No…”

Did it feel good? Was she a slut if it did? 

N… no…” 

There were no words after that. Just broken cries, from a broken girl. 

!! KEEP READING HERE !!

//

Do you wish to continue ?

… I don’t know.

That’s not an option. You have two - yes or no.

… 

// 

Pain. Endless,

Confusing, why was it burnin 

g, it hu

rt, hel

He

Lp 

M

E

aaaaaAaa aa

aaAAAAAAAAAAaA

“-AAAUUUGH!” 

Frisk screamed, and screamed, and screamed endlessly, her grip on the counter causing the marble to crack as her voice cords shred. 

“PLEASE- STOP IT- PLEASE!”

It was extruciately, burning pain seizing her body; it felt like every blood vessel had burst, and her skin is sizzling off. She was melting, seeping into hot earth, it hurt . She just kept begging and begging for someone to turn it off. She took it back, she wanted to die. Shooting her would hurt less. 

Fuck. FUCK!” she sobbed. nearly losing her balance as she scrambled over, tripping over her legs to rip the toilet lid off before she threw up, eyes wild and glossy with tears, saliva dangling down her chin. 

What happened? She couldn’t even recall how she died; she just knew that she had. She wiped her mouth, standing shakily, some of that hot pain flaring up again as she hobbled to the sink to shakily wipe her mouth. It was then when she looked up at the mirror did the tears start to drip fast down her face. She looked so normal. Like nothing happened. She gripped at her face clawing at it uselessly, hysteria taking over.

That stupid ribbon.

This stupid dress.

Her stupid, weak body…

“Frisk?” 

There was a knocking at the bathroom door. “You good? I heard screamin’ from downstairs.” 

Sans . Calling out for her. He sounded a little concerned. “I mean, when I said to holler at me when you were done, I didn’t mean actually-

Frisk pulled open the door. 

Sans was standing there, a hand in his pocket and a hand on his neck, mid-pace. His smile shrink by several teeth as he took her in, his equivalent of a frown. “Fr-?”

His eyes flickered as he staggered back; Frisk had tackled him, arms thrown around his skeletal waist as she buried her face into his plush jacket. 

He looked confused, arms midair as though he were frozen, and that confusion morphed into alarm as she wept, a broken note falling from her lips and stretching out until it wasn’t human anymore. She was shaking. She shook him. Over and over, she only managed to say, “stop”.

“Stop what?” He asked; his hands finally touched her, his fingerstips skating her back as though he were afraid to touch her. It was so different than Leo’s heavy grip. She hated how different it felt. She hated his gentleness, she wanted to hurt. She wanted to be punished.

“Stop what?” He asked again, as he gently carried her down the stairs, afraid the teleportation would startle her or make her sick. He set her down on the living room couch, wrapping her in Papyrus’ fuzzy bone blanket and shuffled to the kitchen to make her a cup of tea. He had to pause, for Frisk had reached out with a shaky had to grip him by the hem of the jacket. Stop.

“Stop what?” He asked again, when she followed him into the kitchen, as she sipped her honey lemon tea, as it soothed her throat. But what could she say? She didn’t have an answer, and she was tired of asking questions. There was nothing left to be said, and nothing to elaborate on; she just wanted it to stop. 

“Frisk.” 

She looked up from the dark depths of the tea, and stared into the dark depths of Sans’ eyes. Actually, it was a phenomenon Frisk never really understood. He didn’t really have eyes, just eye sockets. But he could see, and he could see without those glowing blue pupils, just like he could see her  right now. He just conjured them up with magic. Why do that? It had to waste some of his mana, even if it were only slight. And with Sans’ health in mind, mana was everything to him. It was interesting. Interesting and sad. 

“Frisk, what are you doing?”

She blinked. Her hand was outstretched like a curious child, her fingers grazing the side of Sans’ skull, just under his sockets. She hadn’t even noticed. His eyes were back, even though his brow was creased. Again, not really a brow. Just another sort of magic illusion. 

“Sorry,” Frisk murmured, her throat scratchy. She made to pull back.

“Kid-” Sans reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist. “hold on.”

Frisk shook her head hard. Sans held up a finger.

“Don’t jus’ start sayin’ stop again. Yer the detective here, not me. I can’t figure out what you mean by it unless you start talking.” 

“But I-” Frisk started to cry again. “But I always talk to you.” 

Sans slid off the couch, and squatted down in front of her, forcing her to look at him instead of the floor. “Ya can,” he said, his white eyes quiet and still; stilling something volatile in her. “You can talk to me, Frisk.” 

She bit her lip, shaking her head like she didn’t believe him. There was a moment of silence where neither of them said anything, and then Sans let out an exasperated sigh, and grabbed her cheeks, tugging at them.

“Ow!” she sputtered, trying to swat him off, but he was surprisingly strong. “Shans- schtop! Wha’da phfuk??”

“Yer bein’ such a dummy right now.” Sans pushed her off; Frisk glared at him, rubbing her stinging face. “C’mon. What part of you can d’ya not understand? Do you-” he exhaled sharply. “D’ya know it’s not easy for me t’be here for ya?” 

Frisk’s heart sunk, and she shrunk under the blankets. “I’m sorry-”

“That’s not what I meant, kid. I meant this.” Sans gestured between them. “Askin’ what’s wrong. Askin’ how I can help ya. Learning about what I can do for ya, on the internet or from you. It’s, uh. New. Or whatever.” He tugged at his hoodie. “’Cause when ya tell me yer not okay- and I’m learnin’ how to listen, ’m also learning to be open, too. I gotta be if I wanna help you. When yer vulnerable with me, I have to be vulnerable with you. And that’s new. And weird. An’ a little outta character, some might say.” 

“But y’know what?” He poked her knee. “Maybe that’s the whole point. Maybe ’m a new Sans ’cause of this thing. Yer definitely a new Frisk. And maybe, it ain’t all that bad. ’m getting better at it, that’s fer sure. It doesn’t feel as hard. It doesn’t feel natural, but it’s easier. And if a jerk like me can do that- be vulnerable- then you can, too. So you talk, and I listen, and we’ll both do our best.” Sans gave her a crooked smile. “Partners, right?” 

His words made her want to cry again. But they also gave her the strength not to. Maybe… maybe she could tell him what she remembered, and Sans could help her piece it all together. 

So she did. She talked, and talked, and talked endlessly, gripped the tea cup hard enough the ceramic chipped, until her voice went raspy from talking. And Sans resettled next to her, leaning towards her so she could speak her quieter. Her voice trailed off several times, broke off even more, but she forced herself to tell him. 

He went eerily still as she recounted her last memories with Leo, and how she had died.

“I mean, I think I did,” she said hesitantly, wiping at her wet eyes. “Right? It was that vision I saw, everytime I died down in the Underground. I didn’t set a checkpoint or anything like that, though- I haven’t been able to since I left. I thought it was only… like, something special I could do down there, where there was just so much concentrated magic.” Frisk touched her heart. “And it hurt a lot when I came back. It never hurt before.”

“Might’ve had something to do with lack of checkpoint.” Sans’ voice was quiet, heavy as he processed this. “I didn’t realized that ya- that ya died before. Down there.”

“Tori actually killed me.” Frisk smiled wanly. “Once. I couldn’t dodge it fast enough. Funny, it was that first death that de-sensitized me to the whole thing. Every fight after that, it wasn’t life or death anymore, knowing I could come back. It started becoming like a game.”

“How didya do it again?” Sans’ eyes flickered. “Don’t get me wrong, ’m glad you did. But-”

“I don’t know.” Frisk shrugged helplessly. “Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t plan on dying again to see if I can do it consistently, though.”

“Yeah.” Sans exhaled shortly through his nose. “... But I can’t say I didn’t have my suspicions ’bout your aunt.”

He was switching topics; the restarting/checkpoint thing seemed to make him uncomofrtble. Frisk let him. “You made it very clear.”

“I did,” Sans conceded. “Maybe a little too harshly. It still hasta suck though. I’m sorry.”

Her only blood tie to this world. Killed her . Frisk’s blood went cold. 

“I think she killed me,” Frisk said slowly, her hand fisting her shirt. “After Leo. I was so out of it- I can’t- it’s not even there, just a hole in my memory. I think I was drugged. I just remember him, all over… and… um…” 

Sans’ eyes went dark. 

“Y-yeah,” she continued, shakily. “It’s probable I passed out, I usually… but I always woke up, but I didn’t this time. So…” 

“But why would she kill you?”

Frisk thought about it for a moment, then her eyes went wide. “I think she wants to reseal the barrier with me. I was the one who broke it. I could probably restore it.”

Sans furrowed. “Wouldn’t they need 6 magicians to reinstate it, though? I haven’t seen a single human practicioner since we got up.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Frisk drummed her hand against her leg. “Well, unless they-”

Frisk stiffened. Sans understood.

“Where would she keep them?” he asked.

“Maybe in the basement?” Frisk  murmured. “... There would be a security risk since they threw me in there, but maybe…”

Wait. Frisk’s eyes bulged, and she leapt to her feet, the blanket fallen to her feet like snow. Sans stood up as well, confused.

“The party!” She looked frantically at Sans. “What time is it?”

“Uh-” Sans shrugs his shoulders. “Time fer ya t’get a watch?”

She glared at him, then dived for his pants.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Sans yelled, so startled by the sudden tonal shift of the interaction he forgot he could teleport, and instead tried to jump away. “Kid, now is not the time!”

“Will you shut up?” She yanked out his phone from his pocket. It was at least an hour past when she was supposed to show up. Fuck.  

“I know we like to balance comedy with the drama here, but-” Sans stopped, watching Frisk’s face. “Hang on. I know that look. Nuh uh.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about anything,” Frisk defended.

“You were thinkin’ about going out to that party to go look fer the souls.” Sans wagged his finger. “Nuh. Uh.”

“Someone has to, Sans! We have to bust them! They already killed humans, and they’ve been killing monsters, we can end this now!”

“In case ya forgot, you already died there,” Sans pointed out, his voice hard. “Sorry fer not exactly bein’ keen on ya scrambling back there.”

“I-” Frisk bit her tongue as she suddenly saw the basement again. Leo . “Fine. Fine, I hate that you’re right, but fine. But we need to tell someone. Call the police-”

“Bought out,” Sans said.

“Undyne.” 

“On duty. So probably bein’ watched.”

“Fuck,” Frisk said savagely. “Then what? We just sit here and do nothing?”

“Frisk,” Sans said, alarmingly patient. “Sometimes the best move ain’t an instant one. They’re not gonna put up the barrier tonight, the plan revolves around you. So you sit tight and pretty, and s’long as they don’t have you, then everything’s gonna be just fine.”

“But she knows where I live , Sans,” Frisk said, her voice growing shaky as he coaxed her to sit back down. Her hands raised to rub her arms a goosebumps pricked her skin. “She could… she might…” Her throat closed up.

“Hey.” Sans put a hand on her back, slight and warm. “’m not that pathetic. I’ll be right here, protectin’ ya. Me ’n Paps.”

“Yeah.” Frisk nodded, closing her eyes and letting herself believe that. “... yeah. You’re right. We’ll protect each other.” 

“You can start that by protectin’ my sanity and going to sleep.” Frisk opened her mouth to protest, but Sans shook his head. “Restartin’ has probably taken a toll on yer body. You said it hurt, right? And that aside…”

There was a painfully heavy silence, and Frisk looked away, throat lodged. She suddenly felt very, very dirty.

“... Just rest,” Sans finished. 

“I don’t want to go to my room,” Frisk whispered. It would be too small, too cramped. The memories were too fresh and too big for it to hold.

Sans raised an eyebrow. “Are ya askin’ to sleep in mine?”

Frisk’s cheeks flamed. “Holy fucking shit, Sans.”

“Hey. I’m just a skeleton tryin’ to lighten up the mood. Yer the one blushing and getting weird about it.”

“Can you-” Frisk pressed her lips in a thin line and glared at Sans, who was very clearly smirking at you. “Can you just like, not?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not what?”

“Shut up.” Frisk flopped on the couch, squeezing her eyes closed. “Go away.”

There was a soft quiet that followed that; a nice reprieve , Frisk thought snidely. Then the weight beside her lifted, Sans presumably rising- and then closer to her head, it sank again. She felt hands wrap around her head, and lift it, gently resting it onto-

Frisk’s eyes flew up. “What. Are you doing.” 

“What does it look like I’m doin’?” Sans said nonchalantly, like putting Frisk’s head on his lap was the most normal thing. “Ya can’t sleep like that. You’ll hurt yer spine ’n skull. Take it from the skeleton.”

“Then give me a pillow, not your bony ass!”

“’m got giving you any ass.” Sans shot her a weird look. “Why are you bringin’ up my ass?”

“Oh my god.”

“Are ya interested in it?”

“You’re such an ass,” Frisk snapped, shooting lasers at him with her eyes.

And Sans laughed, softly. “D’ya want me to move away?”

Frisk opened her mouth to say yes, and found she couldn’t.

“I don’t really see a problem.” Sans hesitated. “It’s been hard for ya to sleep ’cause of the nightmares without me. Just think of it as a preventative measure.” 

“Right.” Frisk closed her eyes. Actually, knowing he was so close and hearing his breathing was kind of comforting. She already felt herself drifting to an exhaustive sleep, wanting to fall into that empty blackness.

Sans said something.

Frisk didn’t hear. 

Sans is gone.

That’s the first thing Frisk realizes when she wants up. As her eyes flutter open, registering the warm yellow light of the lamp, her head cushioned by a soft pillow…

She jolted up. Pillow

Where was Sans?

Not wanting to jump to conclusions, she wrapped the blanket around herself and shuffled around downstairs, peeking in the bathroom, kitchen. Then she hurried upstairs, checking his room and calling his name. Nothing. She called Toriel. Sans wasn’t there. 

Where could he be at this late hour? Frisk was getting a bad feeling. She felt something something dense and squirrelly ricochet in her stomach, making her shake. No, no, no. 

They’re not gonna put up the barrier tonight… That was true. But they were still planning on murdering someone tonight, in the neighborhood.

“Sans must have gone,” she said aloud as soon as she thought it, and there were no more thoughts, not as she raced downstairs, heart in her throat, not even bothering to change. She shoved on flipflops and threw open the door, rushing out. She didn’t even care about the light drizzle, or the biting cold. Her heart cried out, beating Sans, Sans, Sans. He had to be safe. She needed him to be safe.

Frisk could barely remember what neighborhood it was. She just ran. 

Please be safe. 

Please be safe.

Please…

At last, she skidded to a halt. Her heart leapt into her throat.

Sans, facing of Aunt Lynn.

They were talking, right in the middle of the street, illuminated only by lamp posts. Sans had his hand in his pockets, oh so casual. Still- she noticed his feet had shifted in that way it did just before he was about to attack. Aunt Lynn was wearing an entirely black get up, and a horribly blank expression. Frisk tried to listen, but all she could hear was this whining, desperate ringing. 

She had a gun. Frisk could see it bulging in her pocket as Aunt Lynn slid it out. All Frisk could hear was that metal slide, a bullet clicking into place, then burrowing into Sans’ skull until he crumpled to dust in her hands, no no no-

Stop!” Frisk screamed. And then it all seemed to happen in slow motion.

Sans whipped around, eyes wide. 

Aunt Lynn, not even noticing as she raised the gun.

The sound of a gunshot. 

Sans falling, eyes wide.

Sans, her heart sang, as she watched him fall. Sans, Sans.

“NO!” Frisk’s guttural scream echoed out from the street as she ran to him and was there in a moment’s notice, wrapping her arms around him as he slumped against her. Every body part, every bone of his was suddenly so heavy. She struggled not to be crushed under the weight, she struggled to support him. 

Aunt Lynn raised her horrible gun again. Frisk didn’t let her fire again this time- she thrusted her hand out, and let a spinning blade of Determination manifest from the front of her palm, and it plunged straight into her chest. Aunt Lynn let out some gurgling, horrible gasp of surprise, stumbling backwards before everything disappeared in a flash of curling bright blue.

They were on a different street. Sans had somehow managed to teleport them away. It couldn’t have been far, he was already so weak as is. He only did it to protect her. That knowledge made Frisk weep harder.

“No, no, no!” Frisk cried, her fingers digging into him, like holding him tighter would keep him from death. “Sans, get up! Get up!” 

“Can’t,” Sans managed. He coughed up something that was bubbly red; blood . Just the sight of it made Frisk’s stomach turn over. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. This was some kind of horrible dream! This wasn’t actually happening right now. She wasn’t actually losing him. He was still okay. He was safe and happy and when she woke up he would smile at her and ask her why she was crying in her sleep and she could hug him forever and ever… 

“’m done, kid.” He was already starting to dust in her arms, the edges of his elbows and his knees growing soft like powdered chalk. Frisk gave up trying to speak, only garbled sobs ripping from her throat. She sounded like she was dying; Sans looked like he was at peace. “Looks like… ’s just gonna be you and Paps, now.”

Stop.

“Take care of him, would you?”

Stop.

She felt his soul break, and with that, his flickering blue eyes disappeared for the last time. He breathed for the last time, and Sans’ bones fully disintegrated, and he was gone. Everything was gone. Any trace of his existence, any future he might have had was gone. 

The bullet fell to the floor in a single clatter.

 Frisk stared at it, and stared her hands, white trembling things, coated with her friend. No, more than her friend. Her person. Everyone’s person. She watched them clenched into fists; she watched them pick up the bullet and pocket it as though it were something precious, and she felt her leg move to raise. 

She felt them walk, almost in a trance-like state, down the street. How she knew where to go, she didn’t know. She walked until she saw Aunt Lynn’s body, crumpled and twitching on the wet cement, clearly still alive. The rain was pouring down now.

Something ugly choked Frisk, pulling her from her numbness- anger. How was it fair that Sans died in an instant, and she was alive? If someone saved her now, she could probably be brought to a hospital and have a chance at life. She took Sans’ life, and she got a second chance.

Frisk summoned the knife blade, the illuminating red casting shadows along her white, terrible face and she slowly stepped to her aunt. She saw, and her eyes widened, and she made to drag herself away from Frisk- but she was too late, and Frisk was too close. 

“I hate you.” That first stab caused a spray of blood. “I hate you.” The second made a sickening shhk as Frisk sliced through bone. “Why?” Shhk . “You wanted me.” She reached inside and pulled open Aunt Lynn’s stomach. “Why did you hurt him?” She yanked out her intestines. “Why didn’t you hurt me?” Slice. “Say something.” Slice slice slice. “SAY SOMETHING!”

Shhhhhhhhk. By the time Frisk was done, she was panting heavily, and Aunt Lynn was nothing more than a stain on the ground. But it didn’t fill Frisk with any sort of vicious satisfaction. If anything, she felt more empty as Sans’ and Lynn’s blood crusted and fell off her fingertips, two people she could never get back. 

Unless. 

Frisk looked up to the sky. Water sluiced down her face, dripping down her eyes, something like tears. She raised her knife. 

What would she do to bring him back?

Anything.

//

Do you wish to continue ?

Yes.

//

Pain. Endless,

Confusing, why was it burnin 

g, it hu

rt, hel

He

Lp 

M

E

aaaaaAaa aa

aaAAAAAAAAAAaA

“Shit!” Frisk whispered, biting her tongue so hard blood dribbled past her lips as she sunk to the floor, spasming as her body was seized with painful trembles. She waited, and waited until it hurt began to ebb away, and she raised herself up using the counter for support; now her tongue was pulsing like shit, and she wiped at her mouth, cursing at the metallic taste of blood and how every move she made was another shock of pain.

There was a knock on the door. Frisk immediately went quiet. 

“Hey, Frisk. You okay?”

Sans . His voice, pouring out from behind the door, blessedly safe. Frisk covered her mouth with her hand, not trusting herself to speak until she was in control again. 

“I’m fine,” she managed. “It’s just-

“Just?” he said.

Fuck. Frisk looked frantically around, trying to find a valid reason to excuse her swearing. 

“My dress is being annoying,” she said rather stupidly.

Luckily, Sans was a stupid skeleton.

“D’ya need help?”

He wasn’t going away, was he? Stupid, stubborn skeleton. 

“... Sure, why the hell not.” She opened the door, and almost cried in relief at the sight of him. His smile wasn’t melting, His eyes were bright as he took her in. 

“Aw jeez.” She could tell he was trying not to smile. “What happened?”

“Stop being condescending and help me already.” It was alien how easy she fell back into their banter, how desperately grateful she was that she still could.

He laughed a little at her expense; a bit of a mean one. He took the ends of the ribbon and gave them a sharp tug. “Magic word, kiddo .”

The little jab was just so him . She swallowed, trying to quell the shake of her lip as she turned away. The silence was too heavy- too soon. She needed to hear his voice. The words were already out before she knew it. 

Sans paused. He was about to finish tying her a final bow on her dress. “You? Thinkin’? Color me impressed.”

He shocked the laugh out of her. “You’re a real jerk.”

“It’s pronounced Sans.”

She laughed again, and this time it was less heavy.

“Go ahead, pal.” Sans’ voice was a little lighter. “What were ya thinking about?”

“About us. Just…” She tried to find the words. How could she express how she felt, without letting him know what had happened? Because she didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want him to get hurt again on her behalf. “... what this is, and what it means to me.”

Silence. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how grateful I am towards you.” Her hands found the edge of her skirt, and she clenched the fabric tightly. “You trusted me- you even helped me. You let me into my home, and above all, you’ve honestly taken really good care of me.”

She could practically hear the gears in his head turning. “Yer talkin’ an awful lot like some 5 years ago.” Before you left.

Frisk shook her head, eyes shining. “I know these last few weeks have been really horrible-”

“Frisk-”

“I just wanted to say sorry,” she said quietly, half-turning around. There was so much more she wanted to say- I love you. I never told you that and I watch you die, so you need to know now. I’m so sorry . “And that I hope you can forgive me.”

“For what?” Sans finally tied the dress, his fingers tugging a little more sharply than he intended. “Bein’ mad that I’m a bonehead?”

“I-” She saw the bullet drill into his skull, she saw him melt like snow in her hand. “... Nevermind. Let’s just go.” 

She made to move past him, but Sans grabbed her arm. Frisk found herself  leaning into his touch, gripping onto him for dear life. He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s okay-

“Frisk.” He said her name slowly, seriously- he said it with the meticulous affection of someone pouring tea for a sick friend. “Let’s talk.”

“We can’t,” Frisk bit out, and now there were tears glossing over her eyes, the brush of bone against skin causing her to shake. “I can’t.”

“Like hell you can’t.” His eyes fizzled away for a second, stuttering as he tried to grapple his emotions into obedience. “This ain’t happening again.”

It will never happen again, Frisk vowed, shuddering at her words.

“It’s not like that, I promise.”

“It’s not?” Sans looked unconvinced. “’Cause that sure sounded like a goodbye if I ever heard one.”

Frisk shook her head. “Promise.” she paused, then said. “I’m not going anywhere, Sans.” 

And she wasn’t. 

Frisk was going to ensure this time everyone came out of this okay. Her fist curled, and she steeled herself. If she were going back to the Xienthyst Church- her stomach churned at the thought, her knees went weak- she needed to go alone. Even if it meant more danger, Frisk already knew what to expect, how much time she would have before Aunt Lynn caught her and took her presumably to kill her and finally collect all 7 souls. If Sans came with her, it would be an entirely new variable. Frisk wouldn’t be able to guarantee his survival.

You can’t guarantee your survival either, a little voice said in her head, but she ignored it. It was the best chance she had.

“Come on,” she muttered. “We gotta go.”

She walked downstairs, leaving Sans in the bathroom staring after her. 

Eventually, he rejoined her downstairs; silently, she offered her hand. Silently, Sans took it. It felt awkward to touch her, and he didn’t know why. They teleported to the front of the Xienthyst Church, where Frisk abruptly pulled away and began walking away from him. The quicker she pulled away from him, the easier it would be to do this. Her legs shook. Frisk wanted to turn away and run. Suddenly the Xienthyst Church looked so huge, so imposing– it was like icy spiders were crawling down her back, and every step was-

Sans grabbed her arm. She stopped.

“Stay safe,” he said, almost sternly. “I’m not gonna be there to protect you if something happens.”

Frisk pressed her lips together as tears glossed over her eyes. She didn’t want him to see her crying. “I can take care of myself.” 

“I know.” He let go, finally. “I just worry.”

Goddammit, Sans.  “Worry about yourself.”

“I can take care of myself,” he replied, and Frisk couldn’t help but laugh at that. 

“Bye, Sans. Good luck.” She straightened her skirt at him and offered a shaky smile, before melting into the crowd. He watched her go, dark moving bodies swallowing her glittery dress before it was gone completely, before teleporting away in another flash of blue.

“Okay,” Frisk breathed, turning away, nails biting into her palm. “Let’s do this.” 

Aunt Lynn was waiting for her at the entrance of the grand doors to the hall, greeting everyone who passed, shaking hands and laughing. When her eyes fell on Frisk’s, they let up, and she immediately strutted up to her enveloping Frisk in a cloudy haze of sweet cherry perfume as she threw her arms around her.

Frisk wanted to throw up.

“You made it!” Aunt Lynn pulled back, looking positively delighted as she glanced Frisk up and down. “Look at you. You’re just a vision. Like your mother.”

Come on. Say something. DO SOMETHING. MAKE IT CONVINCING. “Shouldn’t we head inside?” Frisk tried for a chipper tone, staring at a spot just next to Aunt Lynn, letting her smile brighten. “Get ready for your opening speech?”

“Oh dear, is it that time already?” Aunt Lynn checked her phone. “I didn’t realize I was standing around here for so long. Frisk, I’ll see you in 15 minutes, darling.”

“Bye.” Frisk waved, her smile slipping as soon as Aunt Lynn turned her back. As soon as she was out of sight, she darted away.

In about 10 minutes, Aunt Lynn would go into her office to pick something up. She wasn’t tailing Frisk that time, because she had previously made sure no one was following her, and moreover, Aunt Lynn was still unsure of Frisk’s loyalties. Frisk wanted to keep this timeline as similar to the first run for predictability, so she would head to the office again and pretend to snoop. 

Frisk hurried over to the office, turned on the light, and started messing around, opening cabinets and drawers, finding documents and this time taking pictures of them, forwarding everything she could find and sending it to Sans. Then she smashed her phone, just in case Aunt Lynn would do something stupid like call Sans and say she was holding Frisk for ransom, and threw the pieces in the trash. She was shuffling through that same notebook when Aunt Lynn entered. 

“Frisk.”

Right on time.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

When Frisk turned to look at her, all she could see was that bloody splat on the street. 

She stilled her face, and stuck with the script. She felt herself getting distant from the conversation, already tensing up, anticipating that tranquilizer dart. She was certain that was what Aunt Lynn had shot at her, since there were no bullet wounds last time. And when it happened, Frisk let it happen, letting her heavy eyelids fall. 

I will.

Not.

Fail.

When she woke up, it took her a second still to register where she was and what was happening. 

Someone was in front of her. Fuck, it was Leo. Her eyes widened. She needed to-

Mmphf!”

His lips seized her, bruising them, ripping her mouth open so his tongue could invade inside, cold and wet and writhing and wrong . He was suffocating her; she couldn’t breathe. She gagged, and he shoved his tongue deeper. Tears welled in her eyes. She hated this. She wanted it to be over.

“You still take me so well, Iz… Look at you…”

What was he saying? She could barely understand. The air was suddenly so cold, so freezing. She vaguely tried to squirm away, but it was half-hearted. She remembered how it went. She would fight it, but then she’d be forced to like it. 

Leo was stretching over her like doom, skin pressing against hers; now she was burning up, hot enough to burst into fiery, painful flames. His hands were all over body, slotting in all the familiar places; a decade later, and he still knew where to touch her. 

“Stop,” she managed; her body was convulsing under his touch; from disgust or desire, did it matter? It was still reacting. She liked it. He was right. She liked this. She was made for this. She was made for him. “Stop.”

He was panting into her neck, and Frisk wanted to rip herself out of her skin and crawl away from him. Why was he doing this? Why was he here?

Why?

Whywhwywhuwhwywywhyeyhywhewyywheyyhw-

“AUUUUGGGH!” 

Leo screamed, tumbling off of her, cursing. Frisk blinked, wildly confused for only a moment before tackling him, slamming her hand over his mouth and summoning another knife, pressing it to his throat. He was silenced instantly, eyes huge, chest heaving.

“You’re disgusting,” she hissed, shaking violently. “What kind of fucking subhuman scum looks at someone when they’re drugged and decides to try to stick their dick into them? Huh?” She pressed the knife deeper, digging into his skin. He whimpered. “You shut the fuck up. I only want one thing from you. Directions to where Katelynn is housing the 6 souls. Anything else, and you die.”

She pulled her hand away and wiped it on his bloody shirt. Leo coughed, panting wildly, skin bleached with terror. “I- how- h-how do you-”

“Nope.” Frisk sliced across his throat a thin nick, and slammed his head into the ground when he tried to scream. “Next time is deep enough to separate your head from your body. Where. Are. The souls?” 

“Th…” Leo’s voice was so quiet, she had to lean in to hear him. “The altar. She’s … she has them stored in there.”

“The altar.” Frisk was quiet. “I presume that’s where she’s killing all of them.”

Leo nodded frantically.

“That’s where she’s killing me?”

Leo paled even further. “H-how-”

“Just so I know you’re not lying.” Frisk stood up and threw her knife up into the air, letting it float and point downward at his heart. “You’re going to walk me there. You take me anywhere else and I’ll kill you where you stand. Got that?”

Leo fumbled to his feet, scrambling away from the knife, with only followed him lazily, circling to point at his back. “What happened to you? When did you become so- so-”

A corner of Frisk’s lip twitched. Above her, unseen by everyone, her LV was glitching from a 0 to a 1. “I grew the fuck up, Leo. Now move.”

He shot her one more terrified look- it didn’t suit him, he looked strange when scared, somehow smaller- and hurriedly went to unlock the door with trembling hands. Frisk released the knife at his side from existence; she hadn’t dug it in deep enough to cause to much of a notable bloodstain. “If anyone sees us, you’re just taking me up to the altar room. Got it?”

He nodded. They walked. 

It was a lot quieter in Frisk’s head now. All doubts, insecurities, limits, fears, morals- all of it was gone. She had completed her mission. She was safe. Sans wasn’t dead. All was well.

Someone did approach Leo. Some other church member, Frisk figured. They asked him about Frisk, why she wasn’t “prepared”. Leo said some bullshit thing about being slaughtered fresh, a more purer offering. They nodded like this was a perfectly acceptable answer.

If Frisk wasn’t numb, she would have felt sickened. 

When they approached the church doors, Leo turned shakily to Frisk. “This is-”

“Yeah.” Frisk glanced at him underneath her eyelashes, and made a quick swiping motion with her fingers. Leo didn’t even have time to blink before he fell to the ground, dead. A merciful end, one that he didn’t deserve.

“That’s for Izzy.” Frisk spat on him, before stepping over his corpse and pushing aside the doors.

Aunt Lynn was standing at the center of it, by the white altar, moonlight pouring in through the stained glass windows and bathing her in a kaleidoscope of etheral colors. She didn’t look at as Frisk let the doors shut, encasing the room once more in darkness. She didn’t look up as Frisk walked towards her, every step echoing in the empty room.

“Ah, Leo. You’re just in t-” Finally, Aunt Lynn turned. Frisk was already throwing a knife. It speared her stomach, ripping up flesh, Aunt Lynn fell against the altar with a bubbling gasp, and in an instant Frisk was next to her, almost lovingly pulling it out.

“Not Leo.” Frisk watched Lynn’s glazed eyes trail over her face. “Me.”

Not taking her eyes off of her, Frisk stepped back, lifted her foot, and smashed the altar over, and Aunt Lynn fell with it, hitting her head. Blood was everywhere. It was overwhelming. It scared Frisk. It angered Frisk.

She was breathing hard, leaning over Aunt Lynn. “Who did you kill?”

Silence.

“I thought you just killed monsters. You killed humans, too? The ones you claimed to protect?” Frisk clenched her hands. “Did you kill Mom?”

Aunt Lynn stared at her.

“Did you?” Her breathing was ragged. “Mom was a magic user. You told me. They were rare, she had to have been the only one. Did you kill her? Did you kill her for your sick idea of justice? TELL ME!” 

Aunt Lynn parted her red lips, and all Frisk heard was labored breathing, wet with blood.

Frisk summoned another knife.

There was a faint pop behind her. Sans had teleported right behind them, grabbing herarms and wrenching it behind her back. “I gotcha,” he whispered. “I gotcha, Frisk.”

Frisk stiffened, her jaw trembling wildly. 

Her lovely silver dress was torn into shreds, handing like ribbons at her sides. Through the thin, ripped fabric was a rainbow of bruises, blood oozing thick from wounds, half dried and half fresh. Sweat had collected on her brow, dripping down her face like frozen tears. There were heavy shadows under her eyes like she had not slept. Her mouth was cracked and stained red. And she seemed smaller somehow- like her body could not support the weight of who she was. 

“S-... Sans,” she whispered; speaking caused her lip to split, and blood trickled forth as the words spilled, too. “You… came?”

His grip on her arms tightened. “I did,” he said tightly, lest his voice gave way too. “Of course I did.” 

“You… need to let go,” she said, staring straight ahead at the body. “I need to… f-finish the job…”

Everything, everything she had pushed down was bubbling up again, threatening to spill over at just his mere touch. 

Sans shook his head. “Believe me, she would deserve it. But you can’t. You can’t kill.”

“I’ve already killed,” Frisk managed between numb lips, and this was what shattered her; she spun to face him, eyes wide and glossy- and scarlet. Frisk had LOVE points. Illuminated above them, casting an eerie red glow;

LV 2.

She must have seen the recognition in his eyes, because her lip quivered before she sunk into his arms, gripping him so hard it nearly hurt. Sans didn’t pull away; he crushed her against him, standing there, bathed in holy light and sinful blood, until there was the unmistakable sound of police sirens, red and blue lights surrounding them…

Notes:

so... promise i won't take 7 months this time to upload the finale, but no promises on when i'll upload it?

the story's not ending after this, but i'll start the second saga after this <33

take care of yourself til then!

much love,
vinh/zu <33

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