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Cage of bones

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White snow. Black trees. Air still and bitter. Silence. The forest stood frozen in time, with no wind to move it, and no warmth to thaw it. Encapsulated in a icy cage that would preserve its beauty even after death.

Sans pulled on his cigarette. A brief heat entwined between his bones before he exhaled the gray, blue, smoke. It curled and twisted like snakes between the sharp smile of the monster, dulling a single golden tooth in smog before escaping and making a lazily climb into the air. Its freedom, much like everything in this forest, is short lived as even the smoke quickly grew too cold to do little more than curl between the trees in a narcotic fog. The cold didn’t bother the skeleton too much, but it did make his joints stiff when frost tried to creep between them. Normally it would frustrait him and drive him to seek out warmer places but... that was too much effort at the moment. Instead he continued to lean against the closest tree, his movements stilled to the bare minimum. Not like he had anything better to do. Yet.

Growing sounds caused a single red glow to flare up in his left eye socket. But, other than taking another pull and tilting his head slightly in its direction, the skeleton remained motionless.
“Right on time.”

The snow held a frozen crust over its surface creating a satisfying crunch with each step. Yet with every footfall, you could feel the heat being drained. The cold numbed your aching feet as it whispered a promise that it could take away the rest of your pains, if only you would stay a while. The others in the party, the humans like yourself, were shivering and stumbling as much as you were. The pace, much like the destination, was beyond your control; there was little chance of earning any sympathy from your ‘guards’. Dogs. That’s all they were really. Just big dogs. On two legs, with armor...and REALLY big spears.

But it wasn’t the spears or even the cold that kept everyone moving in a numb silence, it was the fear of what these...monsters, these werewolves, could do. What they had so happily demonstrated the moment your group had entered this god forsaken place. There were seven of you now...there had been eight. You hadn't even known his name. Tears froze at the edges of your eyes as you try to hold back a sob. One of the dogs swings his head to look at you, his lips pulling back in what was either a smile or a snarl. God, those teeth.

When the eight of you realised this was not what you had been promised, he had tried to protect to you, to protect everyone. Without a weapon, without any knowledge of what these werewolves, or whatever they were, could do. He had tried to at least stand up to them. And what did the rest of you do? You cowered in fear as you watched one of the beasts pull something from his chest. It had hung there, glowing a bright orange, looking to all the world like a cartoon heart, a silly little thing. Then one of the dogs had spoken a single word as it looked at the rest of the humans. ‘Watch.’

And you did. You watched every sickening moment as the man was restrained by the largest wolf/dog in the group while the others lunged forward and tore that bright light apart with teeth and claws. Any one of them could have swallowed the fragile thing in a bite. Instead they delighted in devouring it tiny piece by tiny piece. The screams bounced off the cave walls. Screams that would haunt you for the rest of whatever life you had remaining. You were sure you heard bones breaking as the man tried to pull himself from the monster wolf’s grip. His face twisted in pain and agony. Whatever that heart was, it was tied to the man and he could clearly feel every attack. Had they been ripping into his body then he might have been lucky enough to pass out from shock, but this...this seemed to have no end. It was only when these demons had swallowed the last fragment of light that they released him. He was still breathing at that point, though barely, but none of you could say he was alive. Not really. There was nothing. No life behind his eyes. No movement other than the slow rise and fall of his chest. He was empty. A doll. A shell. It was almost a relief when he drew his last breath. The one man with enough courage to stand up and say no, fell quiet.

The second word broke the silence. ‘Follow’ No one said no this time. No one stood their ground. Like sheep you blindly followed these creatures. You had seen what they could do, what they were more than willing to do, and though none of you could understand what had happened you all knew one thing for certain - you didn’t want to die, not like that. Follow? You could do that. So long as it meant you kept that light inside of you.

Thus through stony passageways and hungry eyes you had all walked. You didn’t know your destination, but you knew it wouldn't be good. Escaping was the only way out of this mess. Well, either that or death. Catching glances at the others in your party, at some of the empty stares, made it clear you were not the only one to come to this conclusion. It was only when you had left the dark ruined hallways and entered this snowy forest that there had been any chance to get away. There had been nowhere to go in the cave but out here. So long as you didn’t freeze to death, then there was hope. You would just have to keep running till you found help. You try to keep that thought alive. You just had to hold on.

The trees flank you on both sides, tall and looming without any sign of their tops in the dim light that glowed eerily from everywhere and yet nowhere. Thankful that at least the leafless guardians sheltered you from any sort of wind that might want to rip away what little heat you could hold on to. You had never been in a forest so still and quiet, like it was waiting for something to happen. A few of you notice the werewolf-dogs shift and tense up, but your attention is caught by a light in the shadows of the trees. It’s a small orange glow. For a moment all you can think about is the glowing heart you had seen torn apart until you realize it is nothing more than a cigarette end. Your eyes strain to try and make out the figure holding it, but all you catch is a flash of red.

Your attention is snatched away as one of the other girls tripped and fell into the snow. Seizing the opportunity, two of the guys start running in opposite directions. Everyone else has the same idea. Their stupor finally gave way to the fight or flight response, and no one seemed to be interested in fighting. Most were caught quickly enough but there were only five dogs and there were seven humans. Even the girl who had fallen tried to bolt when she realized that the dogs were ignoring her in favor of moving targets.

Howling urges you on as you race past the trees, not caring how they struck you. The snow was thin on the ground here, letting you pick up speed and run unhindered, but that also meant that you didn’t see the cliff edge before it was too late. You try to stop, to grab hold of the trees, but they are coated with frost and ice that simply crumbles or slides beneath your grip. Just as your feet feel the ground forsake them your right arm managed to find purchase on a branch.

You left arm swings round to try and get a better hold, not noticing that the branch was gripping back. It’s only when you start to pull yourself up and feel another ‘branch’ grab at the back of your neck that you realized your mistake. You let out a scream as you come face to face with something that can only be described as nightmare fuel. A grinning skull that looked far more like a shark than it did human. Nothing with that many teeth should be able to smile that wide and with that much glee. You feel the vice-like grip at the back of your neck tighten and dig into your flesh as the hold on your arm is removed. Your head is held in place making it impossible to look at anything other than demon in front of you. Glowing red eyes burn like dying coals in pits of darkness while a single gold tooth briefly reflects your panicked expression. Slowly it lifts its bony hand to its face, pressing a single digit vertically up to his jaws.

“Shh.” It hisses, breath smelling like smoke and stale food, but the message was clear. A cry for help at the moment would hardly be in your best interests anyway. What was one skeleton compared to the five werewolves already baying for your blood? His grin widened as he watched you take a breath and try to steady yourself. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest you were sure it must be acting like a drum to call in the hounds. Before you can take another breath he drags you further from the edge that had almost claimed you. You are not sure which fate would be better at this moment.

Darkness envelops you as you stumble forward. For a second you felt as though the cliff must have crumbled under you were almost comforted at the thought that this nightmare would be over, but the grip on your neck never loosens. Your eyes close wishing everything away, wishing it will all just stop. Until a voice pulls you back.

“Under there.” Eyes now open you try to look around but nothing you do can shake the skeletal hold at the back of your neck. As your hands reach up to try and pry the grip away, it tightens further and gives a quick shake. You are sure you feel your vertebrae grind against one another for that brief moment. He was strong. Probably strong enough to break your neck if he wanted to. Needless to say you hands fall back to your sides.
“I said get under THERE.” Before your eyes are able to focus you find yourself thrust into what looks like a large wooden box. Your knees buckle as though gravity suddenly had laid far more claim to you than normal. Confused, scared, and sure you are about to die, you huddle in the thankfully snow-free structure. What it is not free from, however, is packets of mustard, ketchup and mayonnaise. A strange sight but not one you were willing to spare much thought on.

A chair is pulled across the opening of the box blocking your only way out but not removing the cold that still seemed set on keeping its claim on the small space. You watch as the chair creaks and bends when the demon sits down before noticing the absurdity that this thing was wearing black shorts - in the snow. Its uncovered bone legs, the only thing to look at other than snow or wood, were both fascinating and sickening. No muscles or tendons, just pitted and scarred bone. How the hell did they stay together, let alone work? Unlaced trainers covered the creature’s feet so you could not be sure if it really was nothing but bone, but from what you had seen it seemed more than likely.

Armored werewolves? Sportswear skeletons? Insanity sounded good right about was about the only thing that made sense.

The smell of cigarette smoke starts to fill the air and you let out a quiet cough. The chair creaks again as the skeleton leans back. You can't see his eyes but you can see his smile.
“I’d be quiet if I were you sweetheart.” His voice was low and gravelly but it was humor in his tone that proved to be a lot more chilling than even the air around you. Quiet was good. You could handle quiet. Maybe if you just had some time you could try to piece everything together and work out what was happening, and how to get out of it. Despite your current...companion, and the choking air, this was the safest you had felt since getting here. Wherever ‘here’ was.

Your silence however meant that the sounds around you were all the more audible. Most notably the sounds of footsteps through snow. Lots of footsteps.

The figure in the chair shifted forward again, blocking off more of the entrance way. Was he protecting you? It certainly seemed like he was trying to hide you from the dog, wolf, monster things. You curl up tighter to try and preserve more of your heat as you wait, the cold trying to claim another victim

“Sans will you stop smoking those disgusting sticks! They are all I can smell as soon as we leave the ruins.” Okay so the personification of death was called Sans. Odd name for an odd guy. Still, it felt better to know he had a name.

“Ner. Not my problem.” He sounded so casual, so laidback. Half of these dogs were twice his size! Not to mention there were five of them and only one of him.

“I can always MAKE it your problem. Bone boy.” Something slams into the wood above making you jump a little. You slap a hand against your mouth to avoid shouting out.

“Ya could, but looks like ya got ya paws full. Heh. Looking a little light on the humans there fuzzy.” Oh god, please don’t. Had you been wrong? Maybe he was just going to use you as a bargaining chip? He certainly didn’t seem to be on friendly terms with these dogs.

“What?” The dog sounded a lot more defencive now.

“I could have sworn ya had seven when ya left the ruins.” Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.

“...Then you clearly miscounted.” The words were more like a growl now, slow and deliberate. Just knowing that the creature was on the other side of the wood was making your hair stand on end.

“Must be it. The smoke can get in my sockets sometimes. I guess I could give it up. It would after all help prevent me from miscounting in the future.” There is a pause in the conversation and you watch as some ash falls to the floor. More growling.
“Anyway, hate ta keep ya from yer duties. Say ‘hi’ ta the boss for me will ya.” There was another grumble before the footsteps started moving away. Silence soon blanketed the area again. Had they gone? Were you safe, or at least as safe as you could be with a demonic skeleton? You're not sure how long you waited but the adrenalin in your system seemed to be running out, leaving you tired, cold and slightly numb.

“Damn dogs.” The skeleton leaned back again. “Ya still alive under there sweetheart?” One of his feet came towards you and gave a tentative nudge against your thigh. You shuffle back at the contact but there is very little room to move.

“I..I..I’m o..okay. J..jussst...c..c..cold.” And scared and confused. Still, you didn’t think it wise to tell your saviour that the thought of him touching you made you want to throw up. Not to mention the fact that you could still feel every digit that had been wrapped around your neck. That was going to be one hell of a bruise. For a guy without any muscle he was strong. Yet, despite all of that, he had saved your life from the cliff and even hid you from the dogs. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he seemed? The chair shifts back as he stands. A hand comes down and waits for you to take it.

“Well, no one around now. Why don’t ya come out here where I can warm ya up heh heh.” Or he could just be a creep. His voice sent a chill down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Staying inside the box sounded like a good idea right now, but it was hardly going to help your situation. You had to stay focused. Maybe this guy was trying to help or maybe he wasn’t, but that didn’t change the fact that you were freezing and had no idea where to go next.

You’re stiff as you move but choose to ignore the pale boned hand offered to you, preferring to get up yourself. The time spent inside the shelter had hardly been comfortable, but it had least given you time to rest and regain some of your stamina. It had also given chance for your tired muscles to seize up. Getting out of the cramped box was proving to be more difficult than you had anticipated.

“Really don’t have all day doll.” You felt a hard grip on your arm as you are lifted to your feet as easily as one would a child. You were not exactly small but you realized Sans was a good few inches taller than you and quite a bit broader.

“T..thank you I..I can s..stand now.” He gave a chuckle but didn’t loosen his grip as he starts to move towards the forest. You try to keep up, feet stumbling as you relearned how to walk, not wanted to be dragged.
“W..where are w...we going?”

“Ya want ta get home, right? Warm bed? Hot meals? Unless ya like being hunted by a pack of mongrels.” He was helping you? He was actually trying to help you get home! He was a little rough in his methods but we can’t all be perfect.

“Oh god t..thank you.” You stumble as relief washes over you. This nightmare would be over soon and then you would be safe and could let others know about everyone else who was still captured.

“Ner, just Sans sweetheart, but if ya want ta call me ‘god’ I won’t stop ya. Heh” The hand gripping your arm moves so it is now round your shoulder. Okay, still a creep but at least he was helping you...and warm. You lean in closer as you feel the heat of his body seeping through your clothes. You try not to think how a skeleton can be warm and just focus on the now, not the how.

“Ya lucky I managed ta get ya away from those dogs. Real nasty pieces of work they are. I’m gonna guess they gave ya the ‘demonstration’.” You nod quickly, looking down to watch your feet. You just had to stay focused on moving. One foot in front of the other. If you tried to remember that moment you were not sure you could keep yourself together.

“Monsters like that are just mindless brutes. They see a soul an' rip it apart till there's nothin’ left. It’d make me sick ta my stomach, if I had one that is. Heh.” Was that what that glowing heart was? The man’s soul? You had never been a religious person, but after seeing everything you had today you were about ready to believe in anything.
“‘Course thats better then ending up as one of Alphys’ lab rats. The dogs are quick. Alphys on the other hand...not so much. She can keep the process going for months till the souls finally give out, and even then, they don’t always die.” You want to tell Sans to stop. Just the thought of what the rest of your group might be going through was enough to make you break down into tears of fear, guilt and shamefully, relief. A quiet sob breaks past your lips.

You find yourself turned around and gently embraced, far more gently than you ever thought this skeleton could manage. You feel warm. You feel safe. The smell of smoke wraps around you and for a moment it felt like there was a fog blocking everything else out. That time stood still. You couldn’t think about this now. You just wanted to cry until the nightmare had ended but...that wasn’t a luxury you had. The longer you waited the worse it would be for everyone else. You had to get home. Push past the fear.

“Sans…” You try to pull away only to find your head get tucked under his chin as he strokes your back. It's oddly comforting though a little scary how carefully he is holding you, particularly considering his strength.

“There, there, pet. I’m not like them. Shhh. I don’t want to hurt you.” The hand on your back slips lower, tracing your spine. This suddenly felt less safe.

“Sans.” Your voice has a little more strength behind it now as you again try to pull way. He lets you take a step back and you feel relief that you were free from his hold. The cold tugs away at the lingering heat from where you had been pressed against him, he was so warm. You look up confused but Sans looks back with a dark predatory grin.

“I said I didn’t want to hurt ya sweetheart. I didn’t say I wouldn’t.” His eyes flash red and you try to bolt only to find yourself held tightly against the skeleton, your back burning from the sudden change in temperature.

“Please Sans.” You feel as much as hear him give a deep rumble, a purr that would have been fitting for a lion. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and your heartbeat hitches when you remember the sight of his teeth before feeling their points graze against your skin while he speaks.

“I love it when ya beg sweetheart, but I’d be careful how much noise ya make.” He lifts his skull from your neck and moves to the side of your head.
“Those dogs have really good hearing.” His breath is hot against your ear, the smell of smoke now sickening, but for some reason it also sent a jolt much lower on your body. You try to fight his hold but with just one arm he has you pinned tightly against his front, the forearm bones painfully resting just below your breasts. Your own arms are restrained at your sides and able to do little more than flail around. No matter how hard you try to twist or pull from him you remained flat against his chest, held so tightly you could feel his ribs beneath the layers of clothing.

You didn’t even notice his other hand rubbing at your thigh before it moved to rest flat against your belly, phalanges dipping just slightly under your waistband. Your breath hitches as you realize where this is heading.

“No...please.” Your voice is barely a whisper, a plea in the dark. It’s answered by a shadowed laugh.

“Sweetheart, I just saved ya life, twice. I think ya owe me a little fun.” His face is pressed into the other side of your neck, teeth grazing with every word, breath filling your own with the smell of smoke, stale sweetness, and something that you can’t describe. “I know ya’ll enjoy it.” A strange heat pools in your gut directly beneath his other hand, but you didn’t want this. Your body might want to take a sweet reprieve from this nightmare but indulging in carnal pleasures with this... thing was beyond wrong. “If ya behave, I’ll take ya home. Promise.” You just wanted to go home. The hand slowly dips lower as your breath hitches and gains pace. You want to scream, to fight, but the threat of alerting the dogs was enough to keep you quiet. This was preferable to death...right? You just had to get through this and then it would all be over.

“So soft.” His hand slides beneath your underwear. The touch of the bones against your skin stokes a fire in your abdomen and brings a flush to your face. His voice, dark, deep. An abyss without escape stealing all rational thought or reason.

“So warm.” Hard digits slide lower reaching between your trembling legs. You are almost thankful he has you pressed so tightly against his chest because you are not sure you could support yourself anymore. The bones flitter across your folds, barely touching, yet with each tiny caress you feel a jolt. Your eyes close as you feel like you’re slowly being pulled apart by the gentle stroking motions of his thumb against your clit. You weren't here. This was just a nightmare.

“So wet.” You buck forward unconsciously as a finger slips easily inside you as your eyes open wide. You don’t even register the soft moan leaving your mouth. His laughter at your reaction sets your whole body rocking, shaking you from the pleasure to feel the sting of guilt. You try to pull back. This wasn’t right. You didn’t want this...but your body wasn’t listening, intent on escaping in the pleasure offered. You had spent so long on the brink of death today that to have something that made you feel alive set your senses on fire.

His finger slowly starts to move in and out of you, curling to drag along your walls, twisting to touch every inch of your passage. Any movement you made to pull away only draws more sparks of pleasure at your core until you find yourself no longer moving to escape but instead meet with his thrusts. A second finger joins the first as his pace increases. The mouth at your neck nuzzles harder, teeth no longer grazing but instead nipping at your skin, digging through your clothes. You just wanted this to be over as quickly as it could.

You were no stranger to touching yourself but this was so different. His fingers were longer than yours, able to reach places that made you gasp and whimper, desperate to try and keep yourself quiet. You feel your walls fluttering around Sans’ bones. Your orgasms in the past were gentle affairs that would make you sigh and smile, but whatever was building in your core now had you scared. You felt as though you were on the edge of a cliff, teetering and ready to fall. A feeling you could very clearly relate to.

Your whimpers get louder and you can’t stop them as your breathing becomes ragged and strained. This was too much. So much it almost hurt, but fuck, you didn’t want it to stop. Your body is sweating now. Sans’ heat at your back and your own exertions were keeping you more than warm enough to fight off the bitter cold of the air around you. His breath is at your ear, his voice enough to send jolts of pleasure on its own. So close.

“Sing for me little bird.” You feel his fingers hit somewhere inside that tips you over the edge and sends you falling. Sparks flash behind your lidded eyes as you cry out, your walls pulsing around those magical fingers as though to try and claim them for itself. The fingers continue to thrust in time to your spasms which only seems to make the wave of pleasure last longer. As your orgasm finally starts to let you down you are still panting heavily, your body needing all the support Sans can give you. The hand that had been inside you now resting on your hip, the arm holding your backside against his pelvis.

“I could listen to that forever sweetheart.” Your head has fallen back against his chest as he tucks you under his jaw and nuzzles your crown. You wanted to push him off but if you had been unable to do that the first time then there was no way you could manage now.
“But I should probably get you home. I did promise ya after all. How about we take a shortcut.” With your brain only just starting to be able to focus, you can only really register that he was going to take you home. You sigh as he loosened his hold so that you can walk with him at your side. It was over, you had given him what he wanted and now the end was in sight. His arm still remains tightly across your shoulders but at the moment any freedom to move was better than nothing. It was over.

You only walk a few steps before a familiar feeling of falling washes over you, darkness smothering you from all sides. It only lasts a moment but still leaves you feeling dizzy and disorientated. Through the trees you can make out lights and buildings. Finally, civilisation! All you had to do now was get in contact with the authorities, tell them about the mountain and the other people trapped (though maybe leave out the demon dogs and skeleton if you wanted to be taken seriously) and they would take care of everything. Then you could take a long bath and scrub every trace of this skeleton from your skin before sleeping for eternity.

You pull away slightly from Sans as you both move forward towards the nearest house. Odd, there was a worn path through the snow but you couldn't see any roads or cars. You also didn’t recognise the area but then again you hadn't spent long around the mountain.
“Where are we?” You ask, hoping that you were at least close to where you had been staying. Strange, you were sure there had not been any snow for a good number of miles.There might have been some on the other side of the mountain but the light was still not right, they would be in shadow if that was the case, right?

“I said I would take ya home sweetheart.” You turn to look at him confused. This wasn’t... Your eyes go wide the moment you realise what he meant by those words and you feel the heat drain from your body as panic takes hold. Desperately you try to pull away and run, but the hold on your shoulders tightens as his other hand grabs your arm. His grip is like iron, and twice as cold. He almost purrs into your ear. “No more running pet. You’re home now.”

Chapter Text

You're trapped. Possibly more trapped than you had even been with the werewolves. Sans just stands there holding you still by your shoulders and arm. How the hell was he so strong?! You try to claw at the bony hand wrapped around your arm but it just digs in deeper and tighter till you are sure he is about to crush the bone underneath. All the while you’re crying, pleading.

“You promised! Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone. You don’t need to show me the way. Just please...please. I just want to go home.” Your voice fades along with your struggles as you get no reaction from the skeleton. He might as well be a statue or frozen at this point. This wasn’t fair. How could he be so cruel as to make you think he was helping you? To put you through everything in the forest and then do this.

“Ya finished?” Your head turns up to look at him. He sounded like he was scolding a child for throwing a tantrum. He was acting so cold. So indifferent. Back in the forest...before...there had at least been moments that he had been gentle, like he had cared maybe. Was that just an act? A way to gain your trust? God, you had been so stupid. Latching onto the first person to offer any sort of help.

“You are worse than those dogs! At least I knew where I stood with them.”

“Not finished then.” Sans sighed. “Look sweetheart, all ya have ta do is ask. If ya wanna go with the dogs I can take ya back ta them myself. Or I can save ya the trip. Pretty sure that batch is for Alphys so why don’t I take ya there instead.”

He was so calm and neutral, he could have just as easily have been offering to take you to the store, not delivering you to a murderous pack of werewolves and a mad doctor.


“You’d be nice an’ early. Maybe, if she’s in a good mood, she’ll even let ya pick out which machine ya want t’be hooked up to, since ya so eager an’ all.” He starts to pull you away from the houses, away from the light and warmth, away from the known and towards the unknown. Memories of what Sans had told you back in the forest start to flood in. Images of being strapped down while you are experimented on make your eyes go wide as you pull back and try to stop yourself from going anywhere near this Alphys person.

“ please. Please don’t take me there.” You cry and drop to the floor, to let your weight just sag, but Sans is able to drag you along as though you weigh nothing. Finally he stops and pulls his arm away from your shoulders. Unfortunately it is only to bring his hand up and around your neck again. You wince as you feel his digits press over the bruises from the last time he held you like this. Knowing how useless it is to fight the grip, you stop struggling and let him turn your head to look at his face. He did not look happy.

“I’m in no mood ta play games with ya pet. So what’s it gonna be? Home or Lab?” Sans practically growled those words through his teeth. As much as you wanted to ask for a third option you realise you’re treading on very thin ice with a demon that could quite easily snap you in half with a flick of his wrist if he wanted. Yet despite that lovely ability, he still sounded like the safer option compared to this Alphys. Sans at least seemed interested in your body being intact and ‘functional’, and you had to admit that it was better than being some lab rat. Plus a house would surely be easier to escape from than a laboratory.

“H...home.” You really don’t like this. You particularly don’t like the way Sans is now smiling at you. Not that he really ever seemed not to be smiling, it was just right now he looked particularly smug and...hungry. Maybe a quick snap of the neck was a better option...

“See, now was that so hard?” Sans doesn't shift his grip as he turns you back towards the house, he at least seems less like he is about to kill you.

Unable to move your head, you’re left with just watching whatever is directly in your vision, so in a last ditch effort you try to spot anything that might be useful for an escape. The large out-building to one side doesn't look like it would be much use but there could be something useful inside. You couldn’t see any wood piles or axes around. Not tools at all in fact. Not even a shovel! Who lives in a place with this much snow without a shovel at hand? Though that did mean the piles of snow would at least be thick enough to risk a jump from one of the upper windows, or maybe that balcony if push comes to shove. The large amount of trees would also help hide and cover your tracks...if you manage to find a way to get out of the house.

The hand on the back of your neck lets go but you make no attempt to run. He still has your arm anyway and right now you need him to drop his guard so you can find...something or some way to get out of this mess. Keys click in the lock and as quickly as the door is opened in front it is soon shut behind you.

You were not sure what to expect inside a demonic skeleton’s house. Maybe a dungeon or cages with other kidnapped people. You had certainly not expected it to look so… normal. The room was comfortably warm, well lit and carpeted in blue. There was a TV and a big green sofa that looked a little over stuffed and well worn with stains you don’t want to think too hard about. A few bits of wooden furniture are dotted about the place while an open kitchen area decorated in a strange mix of orange and red is sitting directly across from the front door. Just a normal house, a bit bright on the colours but yeah, normal.

As soon as the door behind you is locked, Sans lets go of your arm and moves away. You didn’t even realise just how much his presence seemed to smother you until you felt like you could finally take a full breath. Noticing the stairs across the room, you look up to see a balcony. The open plan was good, meant more room to run and less corners to get trapped in. Right at this moment however you are finding it very hard to even think about moving. Your arms curl up into your chest protectively as you reach back with one to feel how tender your neck had become. You’re pretty sure your arm was going to be just as bruised but you resist the urge to check on it. You didn’t want to show any sign that he’d hurt you, or expose any more skin than you had to.

Hearing running water you turn to see Sans coming out of the kitchen with a cup.
“Here, drink.” Understandably you’re reluctant to take anything from him at face value. You look down to see that it just looked like normal water. You were certainly thirsty… but you were also cautious.

“How do I know it’s not drugged?” It was a fair question but you realise it was also a stupid one as soon as it left your lips. Sans seemed to think so too as he gave you a flat look before leaving the cup on the table and turning his back on you. He snatches up the remote for the TV before sinking into the sofa with his legs up on a small coffee table in front of him. You realise at this point he must have taken off his black hoodie to leave him in just a red T-shirt and black shorts with yellow stripes. He’d also exchanged his trainers for a pair of black slippers. The sight was quite ridiculous and made him look far less intimidating.

You look back at the cup of water. It was unlikely you were going to be able to get away any time soon, at least until Sans made a mistake… or maybe got bored of you, and you were going to need to drink at some point. Taking hold of the cup you feel your shoulders sag in defeat. You didn’t really have a choice did you, just like every other time in this hell hole. You still give the ‘water’ a tentative sniff first. It smells what you think water smells like. You can’t actually remember smelling water before.

“It is by the way.” You turn to look at Sans, brows coming together in a frown as he ignores you in favor of flicking through the channels.


“Drugged.” You stand there looking at him in shock. He had said that so matter-of-factly, not even bothering to pay any attention to your reaction. Did he really expect you to just drink it now you knew it was drugged?! What the hell had he put in it? What the hell was he playing at?
“Relax sweetheart, it's just a little something t’help ya sleep. Ya lookin’ a little tense.”

You snap.

“Tense? TENSE! I am beyond tense!” You voice had risen and you could feel all the stress, fear and panic that you had been bottling up from today begin to bubble over. You actually find yourself walking over towards Sans, daring to stand tall and look down at him while he remained seated.
“Do you have any idea what I have had to go through today?! I watched a man DIE! Right in front of me and I couldn't do anything! I was too scared to do anything! Then I get dragged around by werewolves, almost fall off a cliff before getting molested and kidnapped by a god damn skeleton!”

Standing there with one hand gripped around the cup and the other balled into a fist, you glared down at your captor. Tears bite at your eyes out of frustration. This was a nightmare. An insane nightmare. You had no idea what was happening or what might happen next. How long would it be till people realised you were missing? Would they even know where to look? What about the people you had been with? Were they even alive? One part of you wanted to fall to the ground sobbing, the other to dump the drugged water in the skeleton’s smug face. Maybe it would go into his eye sockets and put out his ember-like eyes. You don’t even notice you are trembling at this point.

Sans slowly got up from his seat and you’re quickly reminded that he was still a good deal bigger and, more importantly, stronger than you were. You take a step back after you notice just how close you were. Throwing the water suddenly seemed like the stupidest idea in the world and you find yourself using your free hand to keep a firmer hold on the cup. Your eyes lower, not wanting to risk looking at his face, at his teeth. God, what had you been thinking? It was too much. You were trying to hold your emotions together but there just wasn’t any time to process what was happening. You had come close to death so many times in just a single day… and you were not entirely sure how close you were to death now.

Sans still wasn’t moving, he just stood there in front of you. The TV and your own breathing were the only sounds proving that time was still moving. You risk a look up to his face and find him watching you.

“Drink.” It was a command but there was no aggression behind it. No anger. You look back down at the cup. Fuck it, maybe it would knock you out so you can just have five minutes of peace without the events of the day playing through your head. You drain the cup, quickly realizing how thirsty you were. It tasted like water though you think there was a slight fizz to it, a tingle, but that could just be your imagination since you’d been told it was drugged.

“Good girl. Sit. I’ll go get something to eat.” Sans walks past you plucking the empty cup from your fingers before making his way back towards the kitchen. You look down at the sofa and then at the rest of the room, unfortunately other than the floor the sofa was the only place to sit. Standing at this point would just be childish, besides you still didn’t know what had been in the water… if there even had been anything in there, so it would be better to be sitting then standing. Plus food. Food sounded good.

Moving to sit on the opposite side of the couch from where Sans had been, you find the sofa to be very soft but also really lumpy. Still, it felt so good to be sitting, to be able to relax at least a little bit. Your eyes close for a moment just enjoying the stillness and while the TV is still on; it's fairly quiet and just acts as background noise. You prop your head up with an arm as your elbow finds support from the sofa’s armrest. You could almost imagine you’re back at home. You hear the clink of something placed on the table but find it very hard to care at the moment.

You’re jostled back from the brink of sleep when Sans sits back down, plate in hand with something that smelt warm and tasty. Eyes now open and very awake you look over to see he has what looks like hotdogs covered in mustard. At least the food looked normal. You are pretty much drooling at this point as your stomach makes it very clear you had not eaten since this morning. Sans takes a bite, his sharklike teeth slicing through bun and meat like a guillotine, mustard smearing along his teeth and chin. The table in front of you is empty of anything other than another cup of water.

You look over to the kitchen to see if there is another plate on the side but it seemed like when the bastard had said he would get something to eat he hadn't included you in the equation. Trying to ignore the food you focus on the TV instead. You had eaten this morning, so you were hardly going to starve. Better to just stay quiet and hope Sans forgot you’re here. God that smelt good. Your stomach decides to voice its complaints with a large growl and gurgle. Sans laughs as you try to sink further into the sofa in embarrassment.

“Hungry, sweetheart?” He was practically purring as he took another bite, eyes now focused on you. Your face heats up.
“I can share if ya like.” You turn to look at him as he pats the seat next to him. Creep. He had just molested you in the forest and now he expected you to sit next to him for a bite of his food! You turn away from him and stare at the TV as he laughs at your reaction. Was this just some sort of game for him? Fine. You’ll play. You hated feeling scared all the time. It’s all you had felt since getting trapped and wasn’t like you weren't already close to him while you shared the couch. Besides, he was a skeleton, you didn’t have to worry about anything other than roaming fingers… and those teeth.

Without turning your head away from the TV you scooch closer to Sans, your hands fidgeting in your lap.
“No need to be shy little bird. Here.” You turn to face Sans as he offers a piece of hotdog up to your face between two fingers and thumb. You blush slightly at the sight of them, remembering just what those long digits were capable of. Okay, maybe this had not been a good idea. Still, food was food and you were here now. You reach out to take a morsel but Sans pulls it back and out of your reach. You look at him and frown as your hand drops back down to your lap. Before you can protest or tell him to make up his mind, Sans moves the piece back towards you but again pulls back when your hand lifts. The smile on his face tells all. God damn it!

“Sans, I’m not having you feed me.” You watch him shrug.

“Fine, more for me then.” He leans his head back to drop the hotdog he had been offering into his mouth. How the hell did he even eat? Shouldn’t it just be falling out of him? You could see his neck vertebrae clearly now. He didn’t have his hoodie on and he was nothing more than a pile of bones. Realizing you had been staring at him for far longer than was polite, you turn away to watch the TV. You’re still not exactly sure what is playing but don’t really care so long as you are not looking at that grinning git. Your stomach is still doing flips as it pinches down on itself and causes you to hug your abdomen in an effort to calm it.

Another piece of hotdog suddenly appears in your vision, the smell preventing you from ignoring it.

“Ya sure you don’t want a bite pet?” Bite? Fine, you’ll bite. You move your head forward and snap at the food biting down on the bones holding it. You quickly regret the decision after realizing that his bones were… well, hard. You soon let got of the bones and pull your mouth away, hotdog firmly held in your mouth as you start to chew it and avoid wincing from your now aching teeth. However, your jaw is caught by Sans’ bony fingers and pulled to face him. Your eyes go wide at the sight of his sockets. Black pools of death, not a glint of light within their depths. He did not look happy. He didn’t sound happy either.

“Don’t do that again, pet.” The food in your mouth felt like it had turned to clay as you try to keep yourself still. Sans holds you for a moment longer before he swipes a thumb across one corner of your mouth and letting you go. You pull back to the other side of the couch as you notice a glob of yellow mustard smeared on his thumb. Watching you, he slowly moves his hand to his mouth and slides his thumb against something red and moving just behind his parted teeth.

Your eyes widen further at the sight and you find yourself choking on the food you had yet to eat. Your reach for the cup of water and take a couple of big gulps to help you swallow, it goes down like a rock. Nope, nope, nope. You do NOT want to know what that thing was. Sitting back, you bring your legs up to curl into your chest as you lean as far as you can into the armrest and away from the skeleton. Sans laughs again before picking up the remaining half hotdog and eating it in one bite. You risk a glance but don’t see anything red. You knew you had seen something before. You were just not sure what.

With the food gone Sans drops the plate on the floor so he can lean back and rest his feet on the table with a satisfied sigh. You on the other hand try to sink further into the lumpy surface of the sofa. The TV flicks between shows as the two of you sit in silence. Sans seemed to fall asleep as soon as he had closed his eyes but you don’t feel safe moving or trying anything. You would not get many chances to escape so you needed to make them count. Setting Sans on guard now would only make it harder to get away.

You’re not sure how long you sat there but eventually Sans stretches and rolls his shoulders.
“Welp, now that I’m all rested up I think it’s time for bed, right sweetheart?” He doesn't wait for your response as he picks up the empty plate and cup to take them into the kitchen. Bed? Like hell you were going to bed with him. Your hands grip onto the sofa, you would fight if you had to. But Sans just walks past you towards the stairs. He doesn't even look at you as he climbs them. He does however stop on the balcony before giving you a sideways glance.

“Bucket is in the corner. Oh?” He must have noticed how tense and confused you were. “What's the matter pet? Ya lookin’ a little pale. If ya scared of being alone down there ya can always join me.” You shake your head, hands still gripping cloth. Sans shrugs but says nothing else as he disappears through a door you can just about make out from this angle. Your heart is pounding as you breath a sigh of relief. Now all you needed to do was wait a little while and you could do some exploring. There had to be something you could use.

“Oh I almost forgot.” You jump in your seat at his sudden voice. You hadn't even heard his door reopen yet there he was looking down at you from the balcony.
“I’ll be needing this.” His hand gives a flick towards himself and suddenly your world feels like it has been turned upside down and inside out. You fall off the couch, barely missing the little table, as you stumble forward. You feel a sense of dizziness while a purple glow fills your vision. You blink at the sight of the small purple heart in front of you. Recollection suddenly hits you as you desperately try to pull the fragile thing back inside only to watch in horror as it turns a dark shade of blue before moving up quickly towards Sans’ open palm.

It hurt. God it hurt so much. Your wanted to follow after it but just trying to move away so you could get to the stairs brought a fresh wave of agony. It wasn’t a physical pain, it was something deeper, like you were being pulled and stretched apart. You find yourself sobbing and pleading, not even sure what words you are using at this point. Memories of what had happened to that other heart, that other soul, flash through your head and leave you terrified. Just the thought of it being touched by anyone else brought about a feeling of ‘wrong’ that was impossible to describe.

“Don’t worry pet. Ya’ll get it back in the morning. So long as ya good.” The last thing you see before the pain becomes too much is that shark-like smile and a blood red glow.
“Sweet dreams.”

Chapter Text

Sans pulled the soul to follow him as it drags reluctantly behind like a willful puppy. The further it is from its source, the more of a fight it gave against his magic. He is only able to release it safely once he had his door closed and it had no way to return. Sans watches carefully to make sure it returns to its normal purple colour, the surface twisting and flashing in panic but in no way harmed. It quickly flutters to the floor in an attempt to reduce the distance between it and its body before darting against the door like a butterfly at a window. Despite its panicked movements and the sobbing downstairs, the girl would be fine. Human souls were resilient and she could quite easily withstand this sort of prolonged separation for at least a week without too many ill effects. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but that was the point of this little lesson. It would be much easier to keep his new pet under control if there was no way she could escape… in one piece at least.

Sans took stock of the day’s progress. So far things were going well. She was responsive and willing to bend without breaking, something he had been hoping for when he went after a persistent soul. It was still early days but this one might just work. Kicking off his slippers, Sans grabs a little metal cage from his dresser. The last thing he needed was a soul floating around underfoot. He again uses his magic to push the pulsing soul inside the cage, careful to avoid touching it. A soul this far away from its body could sometimes panic and try to latch onto any shell available, even if it was occupied, and it was far too early to be getting to that stage.

It was amazing just how powerful human souls were. One soul could give a monster enough strength to make them nearly unstoppable, yet so far only the king had been able to survive and use the power for any length of time. Sans still had some theories about that. That maybe by using so many souls they had fought with each other for control, draining themselves before fighting against the far weaker monster soul. Though it was not without its consequences.

Who would have thought that containing a soul hundreds of times more powerful than your own would be dangerous? Oh, that’s right, pretty much anyone with an ounce of sense. Sure, the King had broken the magic holding all of monsterkind in the Underground, but it had left him as little more than a jibbering mess by the time the barrier had drained the human souls enough that he could eject them. ‘Course that suited the former, and now current, Queen who doted on the husk that had been her husband. Sick bitch almost seemed to love him more now that he could barely speak or feed himself. Their once kind and gentle King who, at least in the beginning, had been so reluctant to kill a human even to save his own people, now sat dribbling and forced to survive on a diluted cocktail of determination harvested daily from Alphys’ human experiments. Pathetic.

Sans hadn't been lying about that twisted scientist. He would call her sadistic in her methods if he didn't already know that that her experiments afforded her no pleasure, it really was all about the science for her. The humans she used were nothing more than specimens and the same went for the monsters that ‘volunteered’. With the barrier now down she suddenly had an almost limitless supply of ‘subjects’, which was proving to be important because as twisted as she was the monsters needed her if they were going to survive and really be free.

No matter what anyone said, there was simply no way for the monsters to be free while the humans still walked above ground. Even with the gates wide open they were forced to stay in the shadows and avoid making their presence known. Humans had grown even stronger during the monsters’ banishment. Their numbers and weapons would undoubtedly decimate them all to dust in a matter of moments if they ever found out the barrier was broken. No matter how strong a monster had become, how much LOVE they had gained, or what sacrifices they had made to reach that strength, it meant nothing against a foe like that. Their only hope was to find a way to use the human strength against them, to use their souls.

Alphys had been making progress, and still was, but she seemed set on working with broken souls. Souls that were either so shattered that they couldn’t fight back against the monster soul or, more recently, soul shards that were fused together to remove any sort of will power. Both methods worked… to an extent, but neither provided the amount of power that could match an undamaged human soul and barely twelve percent lasted longer than a week before they either fell apart or there was some sort of backlash against the monster soul. It was causing the scientist to become increasingly more… creative in her methods, which in turn meant an increased demand for fresh humans.

So far the newly created ‘Freedom Guard’ led by Papyrus were keeping up with the demands but it would not be much longer before the humans realised something was going on around the mountain. His brother had really come into his own since taking command. In truth, he was made for this job. Luring in humans, tricking them into the entering the mountain without the need to risk anyone outside. Gold rush, buried treasure, lost children, anything to pull on greed or empathy, even danger could draw humans to them. The more recent ‘traps’ however had been a lot more elaborate to entice larger groups and Sans had a sneaking suspicion a flamboyant bucket of bolts had a claw or two in those plans. Sans could trust his brother to hold his own in a battle, god knows he was strong enough, but he was not the most astute when it came to interacting with others. He took monsters on face value, and some monsters were very adept and changing theirs to suit their needs, some quite literally. Sans would keep watch. He always did.

The skeleton twisted the cage around to admire the soul within, purple light cast across the room and sent dark shadows to curl along the ground and walls. It still pulled towards its body, still called out. How such a tiny thing could hold that much power would always baffle him. He walked over to one corner of his room and hooked the cage on the hanging chain. A soul will always gravitate to its body so standing containers would always knock over. This set up meant the soul had a lot more freedom of movement… well, to an extent. It fluttered against the cage in quick darting movements, causing it to swing gently on its chain.

“I’ve got big plans for ya little bird.”

Sans was hopeful with this one. Things were sure to be different now he could work without Alphys poking her nose in. She had no idea just how malleable souls could be if you knew how to handle them and Sans would prove that you could shape a soul without breaking it. Time, that's all he needed. Time and patience. Once he was done, he would have complete control of the soul and would be able to use all of its power safely. This little soul would give him the power he needed to take the fight to the humans. To free everyone. He might not be able to return to a time when love ruled over LOVE but he could at least remove the reason monsters had needed to walk that path.

Time… that’s all he needed.

Sans awoke to the sounds of sobbing and rattling chains. He growled as he pressed his head under a pillow, hands holding it tightly in place. It didn’t help. A glance at his clock told him he had only gotten about four and a half hours of sleep. Lovely.

Tossing his covers off, Sans made his way towards his door and pushed it open with a good deal more force than was needed. The lack of thump let him know you were not behind said door and part of him was disappointed at this. You were however close to the door, hands and chest pressed tightly to the wall that cut you off from your soul. Sans took a quick look at you, at your haggard appearance and your exhausted sobbing before quickly darting back inside his room to grab the cage. He took note of the soul’s condition. There were no cracks, but certainly strained further than he would have liked.

Damn it! He had not taken into consideration just how much yesterday had put you through. He’d been sure that the little bit of magic he had infused in your water would be enough to strengthen and calm you for this part. Opening the cage door and grasping the soul with his magic, Sans carefully made his way to you. You were barely conscious at the moment, the lack of soul and sleep coupled with the pure fear of having your soul removed had drained you to the point of a husk, but the sight of your soul, the feel of it so close quickly brought the light back to your eyes.

“There there pet. Sans has got you. Sans will make it better.” He talked softly as he knelt down to bring your soul to your chest. You couldn’t even stand at the moment as you reached for yourself, reached for your missing light. The feeling of it returning was like a blanket of warmth around you after almost freezing. You collapse into the supporting arms, not registering the way your body is being held and carried down stairs.

“That’s it little bird, sleep. Everything is gonna be okay.” Sans watches as you relax and slip into the depths of unconsciousness, your soul thankfully settling back down.
“Guess we both got the sofa tonight, eh pet?”

Chapter Text

You were running. No, falling. You were being chased… or were you caught? No… you were chasing something. Something was missing. You had to get it back.

With your thoughts scattered you tried to find something solid to hang onto, something that would not drift away from you and could act as an anchor. You were, you were… warm. Yes, you were warm. Warm was good. Curling in closer to the warmth you notice another fact, you needed to pee. You try to push that thought aside but now that you had acknowledged it, there was little chance in getting back to sleep. Shifting, you also notice you had very little movement available to you. You move again, this time with a little more purpose, your heartbeat slowly picking up pace as you find walls and boundaries blocking your escape. A deep rumble causes you to freeze, as the hairs on the back of your neck start rising. Your bed was breathing.

“Go back to sleep pet.” It took a moment to register whose voice you were hearing but fear was just as effective as a bucket of cold water.

Trying to pull away again only earned you a growl and a shift in your position that reminded you of exactly why you needed to get up.
“I… have to.” You cough, your voice feels raw and strained having spent a good deal of the night crying and sobbing.
“Have to go.”

“Don’t need t’go anywhere. Sleep.” You feel something hard tuck your head against his chest, you assume it's his chin. He wasn’t hurting you, just holding you, but you still couldn’t stop the panic from building as you remembered just how strong he was. He could crush you with little thought if he wanted. Squeeze the breath from your chest till your ribs cracked, and, if you didn’t escape his hold soon, you were going to end up giving the skeleton a very rude awakening that just might lead to said crushing.

“No, no. Need to go.” Your emphasis on the word ‘go’ seemed to do the trick as your captor gave a huff and uncurled himself away from you. You stagger away, falling in a heap on the ground as your legs refuse to remember how they were meant to work. Sans laughs above you as he stretches and looks down at the sight but makes no move to get up.

“Looking a little weak in the knees there, pet. Need a hand?” Your vision is filled with the bony appendage but you are in no mood to take it or touch him anymore or accept his help, you just want to get to the bathroom. Moving away your legs finally start to wake up, but you are stiff all over from how you had been sleeping. Big surprise, sleeping huddled up on a lumpy sofa in the lap of an even lumpier skeleton did not lead to a comfortable night of sleep. Why had you been sleeping on the demonic skeleton? Your brain stalls as you try to remember. Last night was… bad ...and sort of fuzzy. Why did you feel so drained? Bladder first, think later.

Looking around for the door to the bathroom you figure it must be upstairs and start to make your way there.
“Sweetheart, the bucket is over there.” The skeleton thumbed over his shoulder.

“Bucket?” Following the direction of the thumb you could indeed see a metal bucket in the corner. That, however, is as far as your brain could manage in its sleepy haze.

“If ya need ta piss use the bucket. I ain’t cleaning ya mess.” He sounded both annoyed and tired and continued to keep one eye cracked open to watch you

“Where’s the bathroom?” You had been through enough in the last twenty four hours, at least you assumed that it had not been longer than that since you had gotten yourself into this nightmare, there was no way you were going to pee in a bucket.

“There ain’t one.” ...Okay maybe there was a way.

“What? How can you not have a toilet?”

“I don’t need one.” You look at Sans confused before you realised that he was a skeleton, of course he wouldn’t need to use a toilet. With that thought in mind you find yourself wondering how he had even eaten last night.
“Look, ya going to use the bucket or are ya going ta just keep jiggling up and down like that? Getting kinda distracting.” You look back at the bucket. You REALLY needed to go but… it was a bucket… in the livingroom of a demonic skeleton. A perverted demonic skeleton. Time was running out so you decide to do the sensible thing and weighed up your choices. Bucket or floor… Okay, at some point you are going to have an actual choice in this hell hole.

The bucket was in the far corner opposite the stairs but god did you feel exposed. Sans wasn’t watching thankfully, in fact he looked like he had gone back to sleep. You just had to be quick. Err… how were you meant to use this? That is, how were you meant to sit on it? First things first you lifted the lid and looked inside. At least it looked clean and… unused.

After a moment of pee logistics you settle on kneeling down over the bucket, but that meant your trousers were in the way. You give Sans another check, still sleeping. You pulled the clothing on your lower half down to your ankles so you could straddle the bucket. This felt weird. At least your jumper was big enough to cover up your waist. Your final problem made itself known very quickly. Metal buckets are LOUD. You are practically burning from embarrassment right now as you hastily empty your bladder.

“Sweetheart, I know humans are mostly water but damn.” He is laughing but thankfully still not looking your way. You finally finished and are able to move around without discomfort. You quickly pull your pants up while trying to ignore the fact you had nothing to wipe with before replacing the lid on the bucket.

“Fuck off!” You snap back.

“Strike one.” You turn to see Sans with one hand held in the air with a single digit extended. What the hell did that mean? It did not sound good whatever it was.

“Strike one what?” Nothing, no response.
“Sans, what are you talking about?” You felt your mouth go dry and a shiver pass up your spine. You really needed to find a way out of this mess, fast. You glance over at the kitchen area.
“Um… I’m thirsty.” That was the truth but you were also hoping Sans was too lazy to get off his lazy coccyx.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Sans.” He sounded like he was already half asleep. You huffed but decide you might as well keep going.

“Can I get a cup of water?”

“I donno. Can ya?” He said flippantly. You could hear how much he was enjoying winding you up in his voice. Fine, if he didn’t want you in the kitchen then he would just have to tell you.

Your walk to the kitchen passed by Sans sitting on the sofa and you were careful to watch him. It was like tiptoeing around a sleeping lion. His eyes were closed and he didn't move but his smile got wider as you passed by. Another shiver passed down your spine as you duck into the kitchen. Wow he was creepy, even more so than from just the whole skeleton thing.

Okay, you didn’t have long before bone boy would get suspicious. There HAD to be something useful here. If not for now then for later when you made your escape. When, not if. At first glance it did not look good. No back door, no window either. Then again, the window in the living room was barred so anything here would have likely followed suit. You had spotted what looked to be a balcony upstairs when you were being brought inside so that could be an option. You hoped so, otherwise the only way out would be the front door.

There was however an oven, not all that useful but you were thankful that it didn’t look big enough to cook a human in, at least not without a bit of chopping up, and Sans didn’t seem like the sort of guy who would mess about with food preparation. Your line of thought suddenly made you think back to the piece of hotdog you had eaten last night… nope, don’t think about that. You suddenly lost your appetite.

There was not really much to the kitchen. There was a big fridge, an even bigger cupboard and then a countertop. You couldn’t even see a sink. The water had to have come from somewhere. Maybe bottled water in the fridge? You grab the handle and pull… but it doesn't open. Was it stuck? Maybe there was a lock or something. You run your hand down the seam but you can’t see or feel anything. You try again, pretty much putting all of your weight on the handle, and still it doesn't budge.

“Thought ya were thirsty, not hungry.” You curse as your feet slip under you and you end up falling hard on your backside. Sans just laughs at your pained noises.

“I couldn’t find a sink so I thought you might have water in here.” You quickly get off the floor and move away. You felt vulnerable enough around Sans as it was, you didn’t need to be sprawled out beneath him.

“Nope.” He just stood there, arms crossed, leaning on the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room.
“Go sit. I’ll get ya water.”

You step out of the kitchen when he enters, making sure to keep as far away from him as the room will allow. You really did not want to be in the enclosed space with him. But like hell you were going to meekly head over to the sofa and ‘sit’. You needed to at least find out how to get water for yourself. There was no way you were going to ask Sans every time you needed a drink.

“Pet, I said sit. I ain’t telling ya again.” And there was that condescending, warning tone of his. It was just… Did he think you were some stray dog he had just picked up?! You feel yourself bristle.

“I’m not your pet, you asshole!” You might be stuck here for a while so you were going to set up some ground rules.

“Strike two.” Again his hand was held up but this time with two digits. You back down. For some reason when he sounded calm like that it felt like you had been dunked in cold water. The primitive part of your brain whose job it was to keep you alive told you very clearly that you did NOT want to find out what happened when you reached ‘strike three’. Unfortunately, other parts of your brain decided to have their say so.

Okay, so he wanted you to sit, fine, you’d sit. Needless to say Sans did not look happy when you sat on the floor exactly where you had been standing. You actually felt quite proud of yourself at this point as you met his glare with a smile of your own for a change. It didn’t last.

“Very funny.” He wasn’t laughing. Sans only needed to take three strides to reach you and you barely had enough time to scoot back let alone get up. He grabbed your arm and dumped you onto the sofa.
“Stay.” Your arm feels like it was almost pulled from its socket so you decide pushing the skeleton’s buttons right now was not a good idea. You do however fold your arms and wait for him to disappear into the kitchen before moving over to the side of the couch you had been sitting on last night. Sure, it was childish, but you had to do something to show he didn’t have control over you. What were you even doing here? Whatever it was, you sure as hell were not going to be someone's ‘pet’.

Sans came back in with another cup of water and placed it on the table in front of you, his hand perched around the rim like a spider. You reach out to take it but he moved it away. Lovely, another ‘game’. What did he want you to do this time?

“What do we say?” Okay, this demonic skeleton might scare you more than that entire pack of werewolves, but you don’t think you had ever hated anything as much as you hated Sans right now. Still, you wanted your water, and it was just a couple of words. Not a big deal.

“Thank you.” You watch Sans roll his other hand in order to encourage you to carry on. What you wouldn’t do for something like a baseball bat right now.
“Thank you very much for the water Sans.” You try to keep your voice calm, the pain in your arm and strange ache in your chest reminding you that it was better to keep the skeleton happy and yourself in one piece.

“Good girl.” Sliding the cup back across the table to you he finally lets it go. You are pretty sure the water should be boiling with the amount of rage you are having to keep bottled up at this moment. ‘Good girl!’ You were NOT his pet! You quickly bring the cup up to drink in order to stop yourself from saying something you would surely regret. Again you feel a slight tingle on your tongue from the water so you assume it was drugged again. It hadn't had any bad effects that you could remember last time but you still decide it would be best to watch how much you drink and try to notice if you started doing anything different. God, you hope it wasn’t some sort of addictive drug. Your mouth goes dry again as you look down at the water. This wasn’t fair… you just wanted to go home.

You hear a clang of metal and see Sans pick up the ‘pee’ bucket by its handle and carry it to the front door. To hell with this. You didn’t care anymore, you just had to get out. The longer you stayed here the worse it would get, you realized that now. Next thing you know you would be wearing some sort of collar begging for belly scratches. Well fuck that! You try to remain calm and focus on your cup. You hear the door unlock. One shot, that's all you had. But that was all you needed. The trees were thick out there, it would be easy to lose Sans. From what you had seen the guy was so lazy he might not even bother chasing.

You move when you feel a blast of cold air, your legs straining from the sudden burst of movement. Sans turns to see you and well… he didn’t look happy. You try not to think and instead throw the cup in your hand at his stupid bony head. This action had a better effect than you had hoped. For the first time you actually seemed to startle Sans. He likely didn’t realize what it was that was hurtling towards him and, to your surprise, instead of blocking it he just moved out of its way, which of course meant you had a clear shot out the door. At least it would have been clear if the pissing bucket had not been right in the way. You do manage to spot it in time and try to jump over but your foot catches the handle. You end up face first in the snow with a wet feeling creeping up your legs and, for once, you are kinda hoping that was blood.

You don’t have time to get up when you feel a heavy pressure on your back, a pain in your chest and a shadow fall across you.
“Strike three.”

Chapter Text

Your heart is beating so hard in your chest you think it's going to break out. For a moment all you can do is to try and scramble away, but you are held down so hard in the snow that all you are doing is digging yourself further into the cold ground. Realising how useless it was to keep trying, you feel yourself slump and your head fall down into the bright white powder. Fainting right now would be a great idea. That's what normally happens when the heroine of the story is caught by the big bad monster, right? Story conventions however didn't seem to be on your side, with so much adrenalin pumping around in your body you feel like you could stay awake for a week.

It looked like Sans had been waiting for you to give up struggling as your head hardly had enough time to cool down in its snowy cradle before you feel his hard fleshless fingers curled in your hair. Fuck, this was going to hurt. The foot on your back is removed as you are lifted by your hair. You try your best to stand and move in order to ease the pain, but Sans looked like he was done being gentle.

“Now why d’ya have t’go and ruin my good mood like that.” You are held to look directly at those dark endless sockets of his, all light inside having fled. If you hadn't already inadvertently ‘wet’ yourself with your escape attempt, you are pretty sure you would have ended up in the same condition right now. Your eyes close in preparation for the inevitable pain that was sure to come.
“Open ya eyes pet.” You feel your hair get pulled higher so that even on your toes the pain is agony. You shout out, your eyes snapping open.
“Good girl.” Sans thankfully lowers his hand. He still has a death grip on your hair but it doesn't feel like it's about to be ripped out. At least at the moment.
“Welp, three strikes in less than an hour. Ya not doing too good, sweetheart. I think ya need a timeout.” Pain and panic flood in as you recognise the strong pulling feeling in your chest. Your soul is pulled out into the frigid air between you and Sans and bits of what happened last night resurface.

“Please Sans no! Please. It hurts.” Or at least it had last time. Right now though it just felt like a dull ache. It wasn’t pleasant, but it didn't really hurt. The shining purple soul hovered at chest height, it was beautiful, magical. Your face was a picture of confusion as you look from the heart back to Sans.
“Oh…” was all you could say when you realised the pain wasn’t even as bad as the pull on your hair.

That was until it turned dark blue and was pulled towards the skeleton sharply. You stumble forward instinctively to try and keep as little distance away from your soul as you could. You didn’t even notice that Sans had let go of your hair and had stepped back into the doorway, soul in tow. There was no thought of running, no thought of escaping. All you knew was that you had to get your soul, your light, back. It might not hurt that much but it did leave you feeling vulnerable, worse than vulnerable, you felt so open and exposed. Sans held it firmly just above his palm but you could feel it trying to pull away. You could almost… feel it pull harder when you concentrate enough.

“Remove your clothes.” Your attention switches back to Sans and you suddenly find a new level of fear. One of his eye sockets was empty but his left socket looked like it was on fire inside. Deep reds twisted and burned like the pits of hell. All focus and control you had on your soul vanished.

“W..what?” Your eyes go wide as you look around. You were outside. In the snow. And there were other buildings and… things moving around in the distance. They certainly didn't seem to be shaped or move like people. You grip your jumper and hold it tight to your chest.

“Ya wet and ya stink. Either take ‘em off or I will.” You take a step back and feel a flare of pain in your chest. You couldn’t run, not without your soul.


Your hand grips your top tighter. You had no doubt in your mind that Sans would rip every shred of clothing if it was left to him. Your brain suddenly provides a very graphic image that was VERY far removed from the terror you were feeling about this situation. You shake your head, not in protest, simply to remove the thought.


It was hardly a choice but if you were going to lose your clothes then you would rather they be in one piece. You quickly strip off the cold wet material from your legs, even your shoes had not escaped the bucket. Sans was right, you smelt bad, really bad. Ordinarily you would have been relieved to remove the sodden clothes, but out here in the cold air, you could already feel yourself going numb. You hadn't exactly been warm out here when you’d had your clothes on, but now your feet in particular felt like they had pins going into them. At least your top had managed to avoid getting wet.

“I said all your clothes.” Sans pointed at your jumper.

“ c..c..clean.” You shake your head and try to pull your jumper down to cover more of your hips. A gust of air rushes past and strips more heat from your legs.

“It’s not a fucking request. OFF!” You hesitate for a moment before removing the rest of your clothes. Either you would die of cold out here or Sans would let you back in the house… both results would come quicker this way. It was too cold to argue. Your chest already felt numb with the soul still held by Sans.
“Good girl. Now all ya have to do is apologise and I’ll let ya back inside.”

You don’t hesitate. Your anger has frozen and your pride ripped away in the wind. All that mattered was getting warm and getting your soul back.
“I’mmm s..s..sorry S..s..sansss.” Your arms are clutch so tightly around your chest that you can barely breathe in the cold air, but Sans continues to stand in the doorway watching you.
“I’mm s..ssorry I tt..tried to l...leave. I’mmm s..s..sorry I..I cup. Im ssorry, I’mm s..sorry. I’m s..s.sorry.” You can feel the tears burning cold paths on your face as you continue to apologise. Your head drops as you curl in on yourself. It was too much. Every time you pushed you hit another wall. You didn’t belong here. It wasn’t fair.

“Come on. Inside.”

Sans finally moves away and you stagger towards the warmth with each footstep, causing you agony. Just before you reach the door you hear someone call out but you don’t recognise the voice. You turn to look but Sans takes your arm in his vice-like grip to help you get inside faster. You breathe a sigh of relief when he lets go of your soul and you feel it sink in and back to where it belonged.

“Sans! Hey, that a new one for Grillby’s?” You catch sight of something akin to a giant rat on two legs bundled up in warm clothes but you don’t get too see much as you feel Sans place a warm hand on the small of your back to help steady you. You don’t fight the soft guidance. You just want to lay down and sleep. Too cold. Too tired.

“Nope, this one’s mine.” Barely listening to the words that are said you still feel a twist in your gut at them. You don’t know if it's fear or… something else. Mine. You shiver and want to pull away, but you really don’t have any strength at the moment. You hear the door close and finally the cold air stops curling around you. Unfortunately you still can't stop shivering. Warm hands guide you over to the sofa as you feet start to regain feeling.

“Let's get ya cleaned up. Wait here.” You have to hold yourself from following those warm hands when they leave your skin but the warmth of the house is starting to bring you back to life, each breath of warm air a blessing. You hear the sound of water and busy kitchen noises but your mind is foggy so you just focus on rubbing your arms to encourage more blood and feeling back into them. You're still shivering when Sans comes back with a large pot but it is much more controlled.

“Good girl.” The pot is set on the table and you can see it's filled with slightly steaming water and a cloth. He wastes no time in taking the red checkered material and ringing out the excess water before opening it and laying it flat against your back. God, it felt like heaven, and you can’t help but sigh as your head falls forward and you close your eyes. The warmth feels like it's melting into you and chasing out the cold. You hear a happy hum from behind but you pay it no mind as you feel fingers move the cloth along your shoulders and back. Everywhere it touches is a blessing, but when it is pulled away from an area you feel its absence, the water cool on your skin and raising the gooseflesh.

Your arms fall to your sides as you hear the cloth dip back in the water and get rung out again. It falls against your shoulders once more but this time it’s pushed over the top and along your collarbone, one side, then the other. Your head rolls out of the way each time, eyes still closed in bliss. Slowly the warm cloth glides across the tops of your breasts and the fog starts to lift in your mind. You can’t just feel the cloth now, you can feel how close Sans is to you. You can feel his body heat, his breath as he leans his head close to your shoulder, watching his hands work. Your heartbeat quickens and you can’t help but tense up and pull away. A firm push from his hands is all the warning you need. You still. Fighting would just lead to you getting hurt again. It was pointless right now.

“What ya thinkin?” He nips at the crook of your neck as his hand slides the cloth round your right breast. You shiver, but it has nothing to do with the cold.

“How much I hate you.” You hear him chuckle as he moves the cloth away to dip it back in the water. You really do hate him. You hate what he is putting you through. You hate how he treats you. You hate how he is making you feel right now. You hate how your body wants to respond to the gentle touches. You sigh and decided to ask a question of your own. “Why am I here?” What was he expecting from you? Were you just some sort of a pet? A toy? A snack for later?

“Bit early in the day to be getting existential on me sweetheart.” The cloth returns to your back and slides down your spine before tracing along your hip. You feel Sans’ fingers gripping through the cloth before he pulls away and repeats the process on the other side. Water slips from the cloth and traces down your thighs and legs, their trails like cold fingers.

“No. Why am I here with you? What do you want with me? Why won’t you just let me go?” You wait for Sans to answer you but the only sounds are that of the cloth returning to the water before reclaiming your skin. Three times you count the process before you realise you were not going to get an answer.
“How do you expect me to play whatever game this is when I don’t know the rules?”

“It’s not a game, pet.” The cloth slides down your right arm before coming back up and sliding between your breasts. A drop of water breaks free and tumbles lazily down your skin. Sans palms the wet material over to his other hand and chases after the droplet sliding down slowly before stopping at your belly.
“Think of it more like a dance.” You pull your head away from where Sans was resting his chin on your shoulder. You hated not knowing what was going to happen from one moment to the next, so used to having things planned and organized. You just wanted to know what to expect instead of stumbling through the dark.

“How can I dance when I don’t know the steps?”

“Ya don’t need to.” Sans slides his right arm under yours, lifting it up so it rests on top of his. Bony fingers lace between your own, palm to palm. The hand at your belly holds you tightly against him, feeling cloth and his hips rest just above yours. Gently he rocks you from side to side in a twisted imitation of a dance.
“Just follow my lead.”

You try to pull your hand out of his hold, to give at least some form of defiance but all you get is another nip on your shoulder, harder this time though still not enough to break the skin.
“Ya don’t have to fight me little bird. I don’t want to hurt ya.” his words echo what he said in the forest.

“But you will.” Your words are flat, unable to even draw any anger.

“Only if I have to. I can be gentle.” Sans moves your arm so that the two entwined hands now rest in the glade between your breasts.
“I can protect ya from the monsters down here, the monsters that would rip through ya flesh to get at ya soul.”

“Is that what everyone is after? My soul? Why?” Sans pulls his hand from yours and rests it on the top of your sternum before slowly pulling away. You feel it, the tug, but this time it's soft, coaxing. Your soul isn’t pulled out but instead it comes as if it were called. You still feel the vulnerability, the disorientation of being in two places at one time, but it didn't hurt.

“Human souls are prized by monsters. Every one a glittering jewel.” Your hands come forward to cup the purple light, to shelter it and bring it closer, but you also wanted to look at it. It was amazing. You had never seen anything so magical in your life.

“I don’t... but what is it?” You still could not understand what it was you were seeing. You knew it was your soul but what did that mean?

“It’s you. It’s everything ya are. Watch.” You do. You watch the colours as they twist like smoke or mercury. The soul might be purple but it was every purple, dark and light, rich and faded. You feel Sans cup one of your breasts and glance as his bones take hold of your nipple before rolling it between finger and thumb. You try to ignore the feeling, to act numb to it, but you watch as your soul gives tiny pulses in time with the jolts of pleasure you were feeling. You hear Sans hum in satisfaction as he takes your breast in his hand and gently squeezes it with your nipple trapped between two knuckles. There is a slightly brighter pulse of light this time.
“Ya see. Ya soul knows what it likes, what it wants. Let me help ya. Let me show how beautiful ya sing little bird.”

Chapter Text

“What if I say no?” You don’t pull away from Sans. It would be nothing more than a useless gesture anyway, so instead you continue to watch your soul. It felt so strange, like you were looking at yourself in a mirror and yet also the reflection looking back. It was disjointed but also comforting.

You feel Sans move his head before there is a sharp tug on your earlobe. He bites it hard enough to leave a mark, but not enough to slice the thin flesh. His voice, god, if there was one thing you could say you actually liked about this demon, it would be his voice. Dark, deep and commanding. His words, on the other hand, just leave you feeling cold.

“Makes no difference to me. Ya either have a good time-” He pauses and you feel something hot, damp and most definitely not a cloth slide along your neck. A hard shiver runs down your spine as you see your soul flash and twist again. You didn’t want to think about it; you fear you might scream if you did.
“Or ya pretend not to.”

You were lost, trapped and scared to death. You had no control over anything anymore. Even your body was betraying you. You want to be strong. You want to fight… but you don’t want to hurt. You try to bite back the tears that are stinging along the inner corners of your eyes. You didn’t want to cry, not in front of Sans. You wouldn’t let him have that satisfaction. If there was one thing you could do, it was to hold on to at least that much.

But your soul had no secrets. Thin black threads twisted through the purple sea of the glowing heart.

“Are ya scared?” Sans took the now cold cloth from your belly and dipped it back in the lukewarm water.

“Yes.” The word is barely a whisper but there were no sounds to hide it other than the drops of water falling from the cloth as the excess was removed.

“That's good. I’d be worried if ya weren't scared. The Underground is a very scary place, even for us monsters.” Sans kneels behind you and you feel his breath at the small of your back as the cloth returns to your skin to begin washing your legs. His little ‘talk’ was hardly helping you feel safe, and what did he mean by ‘Underground’?
“But ya don’t need to be scared of ya’self.”

“I’m not…”

“Sweetheart, I can see it in ya soul. Ya scared of how I can make ya feel.” He slowly slides the wet cloth down the outside of your right leg, his other hand gripping your hip firmly but not enough to hurt.
“How much ya enjoy the way I make ya feel.” The cloth slides back up the inside of your leg. You hold your breath but the damp material is pulled away before it reaches your apex.

Could he really see all that in your soul? How disgusted you were at yourself for what happened in the forest? How lost and afraid you were that you couldn’t do anything to escape?
“I hate you.” You didn’t even have the privacy of your own thoughts anymore. How much more would he take from you?

“Yeah, I know pet, but needs are needs.” The cloth returns to repeat its actions on your left leg. It's slow and deliberate in its movement but it leaves you feeling cold as the moisture coats your skin.

“An’ needs have to be satisfied. Ya thirsty, ya drink.” Your breath hitches as you feel that warm wet thing slid up your spine just above your tailbone. Your eyes went wide, brain suddenly able to process what it was feeling. He had a tongue? It certainly felt like a tongue. How the hell did he have a tongue!?

“Ya hungry, ya eat.” Your questions on tongues are brought to an abrupt end when Sans takes a nip at your hip. You look down and find his eyes looking back at you, his smooth jaw rubbing against your skin as he nuzzles the spot he’d nipped. The hunger on his face makes your heart quicken and your legs start to buckle. He looked like he was going to eat you, and from the pulse you feel in your body and see on your soul, you were not sure how you felt about that.

“We’re all just doin’ what we must to survive. Is it so wrong to enjoy it? To take what little pleasures ya can and make ‘em ya own?” You hear the cloth return to the pot but you can’t take your eyes away from Sans’.
"I want to make ya feel good.” Both of his hands curl on either side of your hips as he breaks eye contact and stands up behind you. The smooth fingertips of his bones slid up from your hips, tracing the edges of your body, dancing along your ribs and moving over your shoulder blades to take hold of you. He presses down gently as he keeps hold of your shoulders and lowers himself to sit on the sofa. You find yourself pulled down to join him. A bony leg, softened only by a thin layer of cloth, slid between your legs to meet your crotch. You gasp and try to pull away. The feeling of anything against your center suddenly made you realize that all this touching, all this gentle soothing, had left you very sensitive and aching with a different kind of need. Your soul, still cupped gently in your hands in front of your chest, glows a deeper shade of purple, vibrant and bright.

“Ya don’t have to be afraid of ya’self sweetheart. Just relax.” You were surprised when Sans actually gave you a moment to breath before he slowly brings you back down to sit with him, well, sit on him. Once seated, he begins moving his leg slightly, rocking it from side to side as his hands leave your shoulders. You can’t help but try to move again, to get away from the feeling of hard pressure against your lower lips. Fingers quickly curl around your hips and stop your retreat, but again he waits for a moment before bringing you back down to rest on his leg.

With no clothes, you are finding every touch sends your nerves tingling. You can feel every shift of his fingers as he moves them into a slightly better position on your hips. You can feel how wet you are from the way his femur is starting to slide more easily beneath you. You let out a small moan as the slow grinding starts to move in a more rolling fashion.

“Ya don’t have to fight against ya’self sweetheart.” You feel his fingers encouraging your hips to rock against him. Small movements. Gentle, careful. How could anyone this cruel, this evil, make you unravel with so little effort? A death by a thousand cuts.
“It’s okay to feel good.”

“I don’t…Please.” Your pleas are silenced as you let out another gasp. Sans lifted his leg slightly so his knee is higher than his hip, the incline causing your sensitive nub to dance across his bone. You try to hold yourself still, to stop the blissful friction, but it takes very little encouragement to get you moving again. Your back was now arching a little with each push forward.

“Ya hungry pet. I can see it.” You continue moving even as one of his hands leaves your hip to trace along your spine, causing you to arch further and let out a moan. You don’t even realise that your thumbs are tracing delicate patterns on your soul’s surface. Your touch was so light and felt like nothing you had ever experienced. It was safety, it was protection. For the first time since getting here you felt in control.

Sans’ other hand leaves your hip. You feel his body heat at your back as he leans closer. His warm breath fell on your shoulder as a hand softly moves your hair behind your ear to leave your skin bare. You’re close, so close. The friction, the stress, your soul. It was too much. You felt like you were about to explode or fall apart. A warm tingle spreads down your arms and towards your cupped hands. Your eyes flicker open, not even sure when they had closed. All you can see is purple light dancing in a sea of red stars. You trace more patterns on your soul. So close.

The warm wet heat at your neck tips you over as you cry out and push yourself down hard along his femur, riding out your orgasm. Your breath slows as you fall back against Sans’ chest, unable to fully support yourself. Bony hands cup your own and help guide your soul back to your chest where it belonged.

“Good girl. Shh. It’s okay, ya safe.” You try to choke back a sob as your tired mind comes to terms with what just happened.
“Don’t think. Shhh. Just feel.” Fingers as light as spiders lace in your hair, moving the strands, stroking your scalp. Your eyes close as you focus on the soft caressing. Your mind echoing back Sans’ words, ‘Don’t think...just feel’.

Chapter Text

Not wanting to remain on Sans any longer, you are grateful that he doesn't seem to mind when you move enough to sit back down on the sofa. Truth be told, he wasn’t even looking at you at all and had his sockets fully closed. You were not sure how a skeleton closed its eye sockets, but then again, it was no stranger then how he managed to walk around without falling apart, or eat for that matter. You attempt to push your limits and move further away on the sofa, but his hold on your hair tightens as you do so. His fingers only turn back to gentle stroking once you still and settle next to him, the message was clear. You hated how quickly you adjusted your behaviour with just minor threats of pain but it wasn’t like it hurt to sit next to him, and it would hurt if you tried to fight. There was nothing to gain from fighting right now, so it was better to wait and pick your battles.

Sinking further into the sofa you find yourself relaxing more, the effects of your recent ‘actions’ and the feeling of your hair being played with melting away what little tension you tried to cling to. You know you shouldn’t feel relaxed, not with this monster so close, but...there was only so long you could remain on edge. At this point you are pretty sure you had burned through every drop of adrenalin in your system. You were just tired.

Sans clearly notices you relax and you feel as much as hear the soft rumble he makes, purring like some big cat. Tucked this close against him, you feel his bones vibrate with the noise, or maybe it was his bones vibrating that caused the noise. You glance over to his legs, still uncovered from his shorts down, one of them still glistening from moments before. You try to ignore the sight. His bones didn’t seem to be moving so maybe it’s just in his chest. Your eyes, however, are pulled further up along his body when you notice his shorts were not quite fitting him like they should. In fact, there was a very definite bulge where there most certainly shouldn’t be on a skeleton. You can’t help but tense up again, your eyes going wide as you turn your head away to look at anything else.

Your brain keeps flicking back to the moment you had felt wet heat from what you are sure was Sans’ tongue on your neck and back, as well as what you had seen for a moment when he had been eating last night. If he had a tongue, and that certainly seemed to be the case, then it was possible he had… other things. It was not like you had seen him without his clothes off, his legs, arms and neck sure, but he could have anything under the rest of his clothes. Your face heats up as you try to inch away.

Fortune finally decides to do you a small favor when Sans lets go of your hair and stands. You quickly look down at his feet, not wanting to meet his eyes, or catch sight of anything else. Sans seems happy to ignore you and go about clearing away the pot of water along with the cloth. You sincerely hope that there are better methods to get clean because the idea of Sans bathing you again makes your skin crawl.
Thinking of your skin you realize you are still naked, something you most certainly were not comfortable with. You use one arm to cover your chest while the other sits across your lap. It was a futile attempt to cover yourself but it was at least something. Sans didn’t take long in the kitchen before he returns, but from the way he was putting on his shoes and hoodie, you were sure he wouldn’t be staying.

“I’m gonna grab some lunch.” He didn’t bother looking at you as he pulls his hood up and grabs a cigarette from one of his pockets.
“Stay there and I’ll see about bringing ya a doggy bag.” Your head snaps up to meet his eyes this time. ‘Doggy bag’! He was deliberately trying to get a rise out of you now, and you knew it. You keep your mouth closed, instead choosing only to glare at him as he laughs at your reaction, not even bothering to keep eye contact with you as he heads over to the door. Again you feel like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but fuck it. If this was all you could successfully do to be defiant then you would.

Of course you could try to make another run for it, but you're not that stupid. The first time had been a mistake, you should have waited longer when you had a better chance. Not to mention now you were without any clothes. Trying to go anywhere outside in this state would end any escape attempt very quickly. A fact you knew Sans was very aware of by the way he waited in the doorframe, door wide and taunting. The cold air rushed at you like an excitable dog biting at your skin. You turn away, pulling your legs into your chest to huddle away from the cold.

“Stay right there. Won’t be long pet.” With that, Sans was gone, the door shutting with a loud click of the lock.

Your head falls to rest on your knees, hands reaching up to tangle in your hair. The pain from pulling on the strands was starting to clear away Sans’ touches, helping to keep you grounded.
“FUCK!” You wanted to scream in frustration, but you are not sure if that would bring Sans back and god did you need some time away from him. Your head was spinning and you had a sneaking suspicion it might have a good bit to do with how little you had eaten or drunk in the last twenty four hours. You just need to focus and sort things out. Facts. Focus on the facts. Then maybe you could work out your next move.

You were nude sitting on a demon skeleton’s sofa. Okay, that wasn’t particularly helpful to focus on. You needed something good. What else?
Other than a few bruises, you weren't hurt. That was good and surprising considering everything you had gone through. Without Sans watching you, you felt more confident to check yourself over. Your upper arms were pretty bruised but nothing too bad. Your neck still felt sore as well, but only around the back and sides, your throat was fine. For all his strength, Sans was surprisingly gentle and controlled.

Your mind drifts to the way his bony fingers had ghosted and played with your hair. How his warm breath at your neck made you feel weak.

You brush the thoughts aside as quickly as they came. You didn’t know what Sans had planned but focusing on the...more pleasurable side of things did not change the fact that you did NOT want to be here and you most certainly did NOT appreciate his advances. You were adult enough to accept that your body had reacted to his touches, but that meant nothing. His leg could have been the arm of the sofa for all you care, it would have likely been more comfortable. No, the fact was you had used him as a way to escape for a moment. There was nothing wrong with that. It was perfectly normal in situations like this. normal as it could be in this situation.

You look around from your position on the sofa. It would be a good idea to do some exploring without Sans here but...there was no way he would have left anything you could use, and there would certainly be no way to get out of the house even if you could find any clothes. No, this was likely a test. Better to stay here and wait for food. If you could keep your strength going, you would have a better chance when Sans slipped up, and he would slip up. There was no doubt in your mind that you would get another opportunity to get away. You just had to observe and pick your moment.

You look back over at the door and wonder how long he is going to be. As hungry as you were, you could also really do with another drink. Maybe a quick nap would help, after all you could not be sure if he was going to do the same thing with your soul that he had done last night. Your body gives a visible shudder as you remember the feeling of being stretched too far, your thoughts strained tight and ready to snap at the loss of your soul. It was still hard to come to terms that souls were even real. Was your soul really what this was all about? Why you were taken and now being kept here?

There were plenty of stories about demons wanting human souls, but you couldn’t remember any of the stories mentioning why they wanted them. Were they just a pretty trinket? A show of power? Or maybe they gave them power? You mind drifts back to the werewolves and you feel all heat drain from you. They had eaten that man’s soul. Was that what was going to happen to you? You had seen the way your soul had brightened and pulsed moments ago. Was Sans doing all of this to somehow season or fatten up your soul before he ate it?!

You huddle deeper into the sofa, legs crushing against your chest as though you could shield your soul from being taken again. You would not become some monster’s meal, or if you did, you were going to make damn sure you gave him the worst indigestion imaginable. Without a clock or any way to tell the time, you are left to stew in your thoughts and worry where your fate might lead.

Sans takes a surprisingly long time to get back, and your suspicions that this was just a test were only strengthened as you waited. Maybe he was just standing outside waiting for you to move. You still worried about what his plans for your soul were, but since you don’t intend to stay around long enough to find out what they were, you try to use the fear to fuel your resolve. You needed a clear head and panicking would not help. Food, water, clothes. Sleep when possible. Escape when you can. It was hardly a battle plan but it was a plan, and you felt a little more grounded now you had something to build on.

You almost jump out of your seat when you hear a metallic clatter behind you.

“S’only me pet. Figured ya might need ya bucket back.” Sans laughs at the scowl you give both him and the traitorous bucket before moving to sit back next to you. Again you jump but only because the way he flops onto the sofa bounces you up.

“Where are my clothes?” You try to keep the annoyance out of your voice; riling him up was not going to get you anything. Sans, however, chooses to completely ignore your question.

“Here we go sweetheart, eat up.” He drops a brown paper bag on your lap as he reaches over to grab the remote for the TV. Annoyed your question was being ignored, you decide to drop it till later. Clothes could wait, food came first.

Opening the bag, you are hit with the smell of warm dough and sweetness. You don’t question where he got doughnuts from, all that mattered was sinking your teeth into the still warm and fluffy rings of goodness. While you are pretty sure it was simply hunger talking, you can’t help but think that these are the best doughnuts you had ever tasted. Sure they tasted a little different to what you were used to, but not in any way that would prevent you from enjoying them. The fact you were able to feed yourself this time was also a bonus as you are pretty sure Sans would not have been able to keep up with the pace you were devouring them.

Thinking of big, bad and bony you catch sight of Sans watching you.
“Enjoying ya’self sweetheart?” You nod slowly, the food in your mouth suddenly feeling a lot dryer and heavier than it had before you realized you were being watched. It’s a struggle to swallow but you manage with only a little coughing. There is still half a doughnut left but you didn’t want to risk eating it without a drink at hand. Of course that meant asking the skeleton for a drink.
Okay, confident, no need to be scared.

“Sans can I..” You have to swallow to try and get your words unstuck.
“Can I have a drink? Please?”

“A’ww sure sweetheart, since ya asked so nicely.” You bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything back. Did he really have to be so condescending? You take a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm yourself down. It didn’t matter what he said, or even how he said it. All that mattered was that he was getting you a drink. ‘Good boy, fetch.’ You think to yourself. It surprisingly makes you feel a little better, even if you don’t get to say it out loud to his smugness.

When Sans returns with the cup of water, and you still none the wiser as to just where he was getting the water from, you wait while he sits down, his body turned towards you with one leg up and resting in his lap. You don’t notice you are leaning away slightly, carefully watching him as he brings the cup towards you. Your open hands are ignored as Sans brings the cup directly to your lips. Instinctively, your hands reach up and take hold of the bones of his lower arm to try and push him away.

“Let go, pet.” His voice had dropped an octave or two and you immediately correct your mistake and bring your hands back to your chest.
“Good girl. Drink up.” You turn your head away and instead try to take the cup from his hands. He pulls it up and out of your reach.
“No ya don’t. Last time I gave ya a cup ya threw it at me.” Okay, fair point but it wasn’t like you had managed to hit him, not for lack of trying. You guess he is still mad at you for your little escape attempt. Even so he could at least give you a straw or something. The cup lowers and remains waiting in front of your face.

“Ya thirsty or not?” You clench your fists before leaning forward and taking the cup with your lips desperately trying to ignore the smile Sans was giving you. He gives that strange rumble again as he gently and slowly lifts the cup so you can drink. It is surprisingly difficult to take in the water at the same speed it was being offered. Inevitably, some of it spills down the sides of your mouth to leave a tingling trail down your skin, falling like raindrops on your breasts and stomach below. He doesn't stop till you have drained the cup, but thankfully you were more than thirsty enough to manage it all.

Sans makes sure to place the cup on the table as far as he can from you before settling back down to watch whatever program was now playing on TV; looked like it was some sort of space show. You meanwhile are left to try and wipe away the water from your chest, though with the lack of anything to wipe with all you can really do is smear it around so that it evaporates faster.

With your thirst taken care of, you decided to finish the last half of your doughnut before you do something stupid and lose it. After swallowing a few bites you try to push your luck a little more.
“Where are my clothes?”

“Outside.” Well no shit. Was he just going to leave them out there? Or maybe they were washed and drying somewhere. You were doubtful. Sans really didn’t look like a laundry type of guy.

“Can I have them back?” You decided to keep pushing, at least he was answering now.



“I like what ya wearing now.” And that was your cue to stop the conversation. You felt yourself flush and quickly grab the last piece of your doughnut to distract yourself. The bag rustled noisily when you scrunch it up and toss it lightly onto the table. When you lean back into your seat however you find your chin caught in the grip of a strong, bony hand. Your eyes go wide when you realize just how close Sans was now leaning towards you.
“Hold still, ya got somethin’ on ya face.”

Caught unexpectedly and without warning your mouth opens to ask him what it was, only to find your vision filled with white and red. There is a smooth pressure against your lips as your mouth is filled with something very warm, wet and wriggling. Before you had time to register what was happening it was over and you can only stare like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Sans leans away from you, a blood red tongue snaking its way over his teeth before retreating back into his mouth.

You are left trying to come to term with two things. First, that Sans most definitely had a tongue, and secondly, that he had just stolen your last bite of doughnut.

Chapter Text

“What the HELL! Ugh.” You rub your tongue on the back of your hand, trying to take away the lingering taste as well as get rid of the feeling of his tongue in your mouth. It wasn’t helping.
“That was just nasty!”

“Aww, don’t sell yourself short pet, I thought it was pretty sweet.” He punctuated this with a roll of his jaw as he exaggerated eating the bite of doughnut he had just stolen. Both of his hands curl behind his skull as he leans back and gets comfortable on the sofa with his legs crossed on the table in front of him. You see your chance when he relaxes and quickly moved to the other end of the plush seating.
“I didn’t say ya could move, pet.” Sans hadn't moved from his relaxed position, but you wince at his tone.

“You didn’t say I couldn't, either.” You snap back but quickly duck your head down and grit your teeth before you say anything else. You were sick to death of this crap. He had still yet to really hurt you since you had been caught, and while you were in no rush to change that fact, it did give you a little more confidence. Maybe you were just feeling a little more self assured because you’d now had something to eat and drink. Though you were not sure sassing the demon skeleton was the smartest thing to be doing at the moment.

You wait with your heart pounding as you catch sight of Sans taking off his coat. Okay that didn’t mean anything, maybe he was just warm. Shrinking further into the seat, you watch the skeleton’s movements from the corner of your eye, body tense to run if you had to. You heard as much as saw him fold the material and smooth it out. Frowning, you give him a sideways glance. You had expected him to do something by now. His eyes catch yours and you suddenly feel like a mouse caught in the sights of a cat. A well fed cat that had all the time in the world to play.

“Over here, sweetheart.” He curled a bony index finger calling you over to him, his folded jacket placed across his lap. Did he really think a bit of padding was going to make himself something you wanted to sit on? You would be uncomfortable on that lap even if it had been wrapped in cashmere and silk. Maybe if you just move back to where you were next to him he would leave you alone. If you didn’t he would likely drag you back anyway, at least this way you would have some control.

Giving a very unladylike huff, you move back over to sit next to Sans, though you make sure to keep your arms folded and your shoulders up. You might be sitting next to him, but you were going to make damn sure he knew that you didn’t want to be.

“And here was me thinkin’ I needed two fingers.” Sans sounded surprised. You were just confused by the sudden switch in topic.

“What?” You immediately regret responding when you see his smile grow wider as he turns to face you. His brow bones are far more flexible than you had first thought and were now moving up and down in a lewd manner.

“To make ya come. Heh heh.” He wiggled two fingers in front of you to drive home the point, his smile becoming predatory. Your face flushes as you try to pull away again, but Sans wraps an arm around your shoulder firmly with a laugh. He had clearly been expecting that response. Great, a fucking comedian. So not only was this demonic skeleton a pervert and a kidnapper, but he had a sick sense of humor too.

You could try to pull away, in fact you can pretty much hear your brain screaming at you to pull away, to fight every touch, but it felt pointless. As soon as he had a grip you just sort of gave up. It wasn’t fear, you realized that now. Yes you were scared of him, it was that fear that made you want to run, but this...blankness? It wasn’t apathy, or even hopelessness. You just felt like all the fight drained away and left you feeling empty. Like a marionette with its strings cut, you feel your shoulders lower and head drop. There was nothing to gain from fighting at the moment.

It takes a moment to realise Sans was moving you, shifting your shoulders and back. Uncertain as to what he was about to do, you tense back up. He wasn’t being rough but right now you were learning to fear how gentle he could be, how his soft words wrapped around you and stole your thoughts.

“Easy pet, just lay down here. I’m not gonna hurt ya, shhh.” Angry tears bite at your eyes in frustration at your own inability, but you let him guide you. He eases you firmly to rest your head and torso into his coat padded lap. You try to get back up, the smell alone from his coat making your lip curl, but he only has to place an arm over your back to stop you. You hated being so weak and feel yourself give up, berating yourself even more that you wouldn’t fight back.

The restraining arm on your back moves away as you let out a breath and sink back down, your own arms coming up to pillow under your head and at least give you some distance from the smoky coat. Fingers soon lace into your hair, their softness clouding your thoughts and stilling the angry voices in your head. You find with your eyes closed you could almost forget where you were, whose fingers were touching you. You just needed a moment to rest. To not think about everything that had, was, and might happen. It didn’t matter. You couldn’t fight or change anything right now. Maybe if you rested, you could fight better later.

“That's it sweetheart. See, ya don’t have to be afraid. Might be more comfy with ya legs up here though.” He taps on your bare thighs and your legs soon join the rest of you on the sofa, it was more comfortable you admitted to yourself. Your brain fires a few thoughts in the haze like how weird this all was. Laid out on the sofa with a skeleton’s lap as a pillow. You should be fighting. He was dangerous. But…what was there to fight? You were comfortable and warm enough, despite your lack of clothing, and while you didn’t exactly like Sans touching you, it was not unpleasant the way he was playing with your hair. Despite your content state your eyes snap open when you feel his other hand on your back, a feather light touch along your spine. The tension remains as he continues to trace the bones beneath your skin. You expect him to dip lower, to use his touch against you again, but his hand remains confined to your back.

This didn’t make sense. None of this made any sense. What did he want from you? Why was he doing this? Any of this? Gentle fingers try to still your thoughts, draw you back to the peace to drift for a while longer. You let them. Your head hurt too much trying to figure this all out right now. Later, later after you had rested you would work it all out.

“What ya thinking, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet, dark and soft, reminding you of the smokey smell curling around you from the coat. A few thoughts surfaced and you let one drift from your lips.

“Why aren't you hurting me?” The question surprises even you, but it was one that had been sitting in the back of your mind from the very start of all this.

“Ya want me to hurt ya?” The hand on your back stops but the one on your head tenses and grips your hair tightly. ‘No’s start tumbling from your lips as you quickly shake your head, carefully trying not to strain the hair he had in his hold. That was most definitely NOT something you wanted to change. Sans gets the message and you feel the grip lessen when both hands go back to their gentle motions. You still remain tense, however. He didn’t seem ready to drop the conversation.

“Would it make it easier to hate me if I hurt ya?” You don’t answer but you know he is right. It would make it easier. It would give you more of a reason to fight, give you something to fight against. How did you fight against something so soft and gentle, tender almost? His hand slips from your hair and traces down your jaw. When it reaches under your chin, he lifts it slightly so you can look at him. His head cocked to the side so you don’t have to strain your neck too far.

“Now why would I want to hurt ya, little bird?” His thumb traces across your bottom lip.
“Listen carefully. Ya mine, okay? An’ I don’t make a habit of damaging what’s mine.” His eyes hold yours, pinning your gaze in a tighter grip than his hand ever could.
“Let me take care of ya and ya never have to worry about being hurt again.” His head lowers as he leans over and presses his forehead against your own. Your eyes close. It was such a simple gesture but it felt so...intimate. That deep purring hum returns, melting the last of your tense muscles. You can’t help but sigh.

It’s only when he pulls back and returns his hand to the top of your head that you find yourself able to focus on what he had just said. ‘Mine’. The way he said it sent a chill down your spine that pooled deep in your gut. This wasn’t right. You were not some object to be claimed or a stray to be taken in. You were human. You couldn’t let him do this. What was a life if you were not in control?
“Sans. I’m…I’m not.”

“Ya should be dead little bird.” Your eyes open wide.
“Ya should be laying at the bottom of that cliff in a hundred broken pieces.” His voice held no emotion. He spoke as though he was talking about something as mundane as the weather, but you felt a chill stabbing right into your heart. He was right. You hadden’t had time to think about that moment you had been running from the werewolves. After everything he had put you through, after everything he had done to you, you were still alive and breathing. If it wasn’t for Sans would be dead. Anything had to be better than death right?

“‘Course, that would have been a better fate than staying with the dogs.” Your blood runs cold when you try to remember the other people you have been with. You had not spared them a thought since you had run. You had not tried to help, even when you thought Sans was aiding your own escape. Were you selfish? As bad as you had it, and with all you had gone through, you knew without a shadow of a doubt you’d not trade places with any one of them.

“The others should be at the lab now with Alphys.” Alphys...just the name alone sent a stab of fear to your heart. The way Sans talked about her...god, what was happening to the others while you were laying here in relative comfort? Sans must have felt your fear as he coos and tries to soothe you.
“Aww shh shh, don’t worry pet, they ain’t hurtin’, not yet anyway. She don’t like to start right away, ya see. Likes to isolate them for a week or two in these little rooms, ta break them a little. Makes them easier to manage.” You try to swallow, your throat having gone dry.
“I could tell ya about some of the experiments if ya interested?”

“No. Please Sans, no. I can’t.” You couldn’t face hearing any more. You knew it was cowardly to hide away from the truth, but you just couldn’t. Tears prick at your eyes as you bury your face in your arms.

“There there, little bird.” Sans moves his hand out of your hair to instead stroke your head.
“I didn’t mean to upset ya. It just sounded like ya needed a little reminder of the world outside. The Underground ain’t no place for a human. I know ya don’t want ta be here, but ya got nowhere else t’go.”

“I don’t understand...what do you mean ‘underground’? We can’t be underground, there’s light out there, and snow.” You remember him mentioning being underground a few times now, but it just didn’t make sense. Yes, you had entered the mountain, but when you had exited through those big stone doors into the snowy forest you had left the mountain behind. Right?

“Aww sweetheart, there is so much ya don’t understand. Soon as ya entered the mountain, ya fate was sealed. Ain’t no way to leave, well, not alive anyway. That light out there, it’s from the snow. It glows, ya see, just enough ta keep us from all trippin’ over one another. I could give ya a lesson on the water cycle down here but I think I’d only put ya to sleep. Maybe another time.” It all sounded so surreal. Did the snow really glow? It would explain the eerie quality of the light in the forest. Besides, with everything else you had seen, glowing snow was not hard to accept.

“Short answer is that ya still under the mountain. Trapped, just like the rest of us.” Sans sounded both sad and angry.

“You're trapped?”

“Heh heh, how many monsters ya seen topside sweetheart?” Monsters? Was that what they were? It sounded about right. Werewolves, skeletons, animal people, giant frogs. Monsters, okay, sure. You just really hoped there weren’t any vampires. Or ghosts.

“Um...there are stories but I guess...none.”

“There’s ya answer.” It didn’t sound like you were going to get any more than that but Sans had to be lying. You refused to accept that there was no way out. After all, the stories about monsters had to come from somewhere, so there must be ways for at least some of them to slip out. Sans just wanted to keep you down here for himself. He might say he cared, but whether he believed it or not there was no way anyone would treat the one they cared about like he had, and was, treating you. After all, if he really cared for you he would want to see you happy. Right?

“So there...there’s really no way for me to go home?”

The hands on your back and scalp stop.

“What did I tell ya pet? Ya are home.” You could hear the anger starting to to creep into the skeleton’s voice.
“Whoever ya were when ya entered the mountain died on that cliff. I saved ya. I gave ya a second chance. If ya don’t want to take it just say the word. I promise, I’ll make it as quick and as painless as I can. It’s the only freedom ya going to get down here and ya won’t get a better offer from anyone else.” He was...he was offering to kill you? As bad as everything was, you don’t think it was enough to warrant giving up completely. No, there was still a chance. So long as you were still alive there was always a chance. You just had to keep trying.

“So what's it going to be sweetheart? Ya really want to be free?” You saw what he was doing, the way he worded the question. Yes you would be free, but you would be free your way.

“I want to live.”

Chapter Text

“I want to live.”

“Good choice.” Sans smiled. Things were going well and it was only the second day. Still, he knew not to get his hopes up as he returned to stroking her hair, her head coming back down to rest on her arms. It was so soft. Her body so warm against his. He would never be able to enjoy this sort of closeness from any of the monsters in the underground. His limited HP meant he had to keep his distance from even the ones he trusted. Well, as far as you could trust anyone. Monsters might be past the stage of fighting each other for scraps, but that didn’t mean they could always control their temper. LV wasn’t something you lost when you gained it, even when things started to look a little better. The only one he could really trust was his brother. They might not always see socket to socket on everything, but Sans could trust his brother enough not to dust him. Oh he could get angry alright, but Papyrus had immense control over his powers, something Sans respected, and was grateful for on more than a few occasions.

The room slips back into silence. Sans wasn’t sure if his charge was asleep yet, but she seemed to be hovering around that sort of state. Relaxed, guard down, content. She was just so open, vulnerable and it stirred something very deep and almost primal in him. He was enjoying this. Far more than he thought he would when he had the idea to try and produce a soul he could use. Sure all of this was just getting her to open up, to be obedient, to not question, and most importantly, not fight him, but he needed to go further if he was going to use her soul while it was still bound to its body.

He could just try and work with the soul. It would be a lot less hassle, that's for sure. He would have the added bonus of not needing to fight against the soul’s natural link. But even if he managed to get the soul to harmonize with his magic, he would still have the problem of containing it. He and Alphys had quickly found out that any prolonged use of a human soul, even damaged ones, could lead to toxic levels of determination building up in the monster that quite literally led to a meltdown. Thus, souls had to be contained until they were needed. This was all well and good, but containing the souls was proving to be an issue. Current containers could hold a soul indefinitely in a semi-suspended state, however, souls could only really be used four or five times before they began to break down. They were still alive after all, and monster bodies were simply not enough to sustain them even if they could handle the high amounts of DT. They needed a body to return to, to feel alive in.

Sans had been trying to work on a different solution, keeping the human alive but sedated. He had been getting good results but the problems came when they tried to increase the distance between the soul and the body. Over time, the distance could be increased, but the issue came from when it came to use a soul at a distance. Even half a mile could prove too much for the sedated humans and could lead to a panicked bond forming to whatever monster was closest; bonds were not to be taken lightly, particularly with a soul as powerful as a human’s. They had lost three good monsters like that, their souls burned out as the human tried to take control when their own bodies flatlined from the stress.

It didn’t make sense at first. A soul that still had its body should be more stable than one that was completely cut off. If anything, it should have been the ‘dead’ souls that were more likely to try and bond. Dead souls, however, seemed to create some sort of barrier to prevent bonding, likely a defence mechanism to make sure the soul would pass on after death rather than linger or possess others. It was theorized that ghosts might be the after effects when this process failed, though he had had no chance to test said theroy.

Alphys had gone on to try and make improved containers, preferring to work with mechanics rather than organics, while Sans...well, that's when he had the opportunity to try something new. There had been a girl, a green soul, wouldn’t hurt a fly. She had reminded him so much of his brother before everything went south. So he’d started changing around a few of the test schedules, the ones he knew would have been a waste on her. Sometimes he would chat a bit longer than was needed. Little things, but they had meant everything to her. She had latched onto any kindness he showed, smiled when he entered the room. That was when he noticed her soul try to harmonize with his own. It had been the first time he had witnessed a human soul try to harmonize, something that was normal between monsters that worked closely together, or… did other things together. A way for monsters to use their magic to boost or complement another's. To be able to get a human to harmonize with a monster would be a huge leap forward and could be the answer.

The whole process worked like mixing two colours together. If you had a yellow and a blue tub of paint, they would each take some of the other colour and mix it into their own. What you were left with was two tubs of paint that were far more like one another than before, their magic now far more compatible with each other. Harmonizing however didn’t have to be balanced and could quite easily be one sided like Sans witnessed with the green soul. Humans didn’t have magic (their souls were pure energy), but by harmonizing, it helped the green stabilize herself on what little magic Sans gave off naturally. It also seemed to make her much more compliant for Sans to draw on the fountain of power she held.

Sans should have continued his experiments privately. He couldn’t really blame Alphys’ reaction, well, not in hindsight at least. She had been scared. After seeing what a full bond could do to a monster she wasn’t willing to take the risk, not again. She had already started to work with broken souls at this point and admittedly she was getting good results. Broken souls had the same sort of barrier that dead souls had when it came to bonds, but their bodies could be kept alive to return the souls to when not needed. The only issue was just how weak and fragile those souls were. There had also been a few instances of souls reforming instead of shattering, likely due to a build up of DT, which again led to the loss of more monsters.

Honestly, Sans should have left it at that. He was not really one to take risks, far too much effort. Plus if he made a mistake it would not just be his life on the line. There was no way he could leave Papyrus alone. He had already suffered enough. But...there was just something about seeing that soul reach out to him, seeing something so fragile that needed protecting. Alphys didn’t take long to noticed he’d still not dropped the experiments so she proposed a compromise...and that's how he found out about the new experiments Alphys had been working on.

He could understand that she was scared of the bond that could form, that she wanted to find a way to have more control over the strength and keep the monster soul safe from being burnt out or taken over. But the sight of that twisted abomination she called a soul, the feeling of the green shards embedded in the shattered mass calling out to him... that’s when he knew he had to get out. He couldn’t work alongside Alphys anymore. This hadn't been an accident like the amalgamates, like Undyne. This had been done deliberately.

It had been three months since he had left the Lab. He still technically worked there and had a few other experiments running, but both he and Alphys avoided each other, their only contact being occasional e-mails of data results. Sans knew he was onto something with the harmonization but he agreed with Alphys’ sentiment that he needed more control before he could risk using the soul. He needed to make sure there was no chance for the soul to turn on him, for the soul to try and take control itself. He needed a soul that would bend to him completely with no resistance.

Of course, just picking up any soul and hoping for harmonization to happen would be ridiculous. You could stick a load of monsters together for a month and that didn’t mean they were going to get along. Souls had to have something. A spark, a hook. Heck, a few of the strongest bonds started out from two monsters absolutely hating one another. That said, there were ways to help encourage the process. Near death experiences, high levels of stress,, they all caused the soul to reach out and try to grab something to stabilize.

That's what led him to the human that now rested on his lap. Out of all the souls that were being led in that group, she had been one of the few whose soul kept sparking with hope, searching for something to help her escape, yet unlike the others there was no aggression behind that hope. Then, while everyone else was either lost in their own thoughts or lost in the hopelessness of the situation, that little purple soul had been alert enough to pick him out and draw her eyes towards his. That in itself was a notable feat. Even the dogs had not sensed him, his cigarette smoke doing its job to mask his scent and cloud the forest. That moment proved she was open enough.

The second when he had caught her grip before she went over the cliff had proven she was more specifically open to him. He had felt her soul reach out just as much as her hand, desperate for a lifeline. More importantly it had not flinched back when it found his soul. It had taken very little to gain her trust and cooperation, her soul fluttering like a bird, reaching out and then pulling away. It was kind of cute, but it had made him keep a good hold on her. She had been just as likely to run as she was to follow.

But the true test had been in the woods, a test she had passed with flying colours despite her reluctance. He had never seen a soul brighten like that before and the raw power of it had been amazing. It had sparked over his own soul, desperate to find something to hold onto in its spasms. Sans himself was closed off, his soul playing the part of a smooth pebble as the river washed past him. But that moment, he selfishly wanted to taste the fruits of his labour. He had relaxed his guard slightly, just a crack, but it had been enough to cause him to tuck her against himself and hold onto the soft form protectively. He was so used to being closed off to others, even Papyrus, so that soft touch of her reaching soul had sent his own spinning.

It hadn't taken him long to recover, barely a second, but while his little bird continued to flutter weakly against him, he realised that he had what he needed. A soul he could mold and make his own. If he could get this to work, then the last barrier facing monsterkind would go down. It was funny when he really looked at it. The only way to finish what the humans started was by doing the one thing that began all this fear and hatred in the first place.

Back in the present, Sans looked down and noticed how softly the human was breathing now, her warm breath tickling against his femur. It was...nice, just being able to relax a bit and stroke along the bones that lay just below a thin layer of skin. It helped make her feel more familiar, less human. He was still learning the ways he could make her respond, how to make her soul brighten. It was so much more complicated with humans, their bodies making up so much more of their being than a monster. Still, he was resourceful and thankfully the human internet had a wealth of information on the subject. The only problem was sorting out what was real and what was not.

Sans just hoped it would not take too long for her to relax enough around him, to stop fighting and start responding to him without being prompted. He was used to being patient but damn, some of those noises, the feeling of soft flesh, the taste. God, he just wanted to trace every bone with his tongue, to lap against those soft mounds till her mind was filled with nothing but him as her soul clawed at his own for support. Sans gave a shudder and tried to calm his thoughts.

Getting hot and bothered right now was not going to do him any good. It had been bad enough this morning. He had tried so hard to not touch her during the last ‘leg’ of that little performance, wanting her release to be purely her own doing. But when she’d arched her back, he had needed to feel how tightly bound those hidden vertebrae had become. The fact that she had only cum when he had drawn his tongue against her neck made him want to pull her from his leg and take her right there. Thankfully, his hands had been too busy channeling his own magic around her soul at that moment. He knew he had been reckless in the forest, risking his soul like that. It was far safer to let the little purple soul get used to his magic first, just like she was getting used to his touch. Safer, yes...

It had still left him feeling frustrated. He had tried - hard- to just ignore his pent up magic, but with her curled up next to him, warm and smelling of fresh sweat and sex, it was all he could do to just hold himself together. His hand had curled into her hair possessively, not wanting to let her go. Right now his touch was tender and relaxed, but this morning he had been like a coiled spring.

The word had thrummed through his magic. He’d known her soul was too wrapped up in meat to hear him. She wasn't a monster, she was human, but that still didn't help his frustration that he couldn’t feel her answer. Eventually it had gotten to be too much and he had left for Waterfall to dunk himself in the coldest falls he could find; that had helped. He had also made sure to dump those stinking clothes over the nearest drop. No way in hell he was going to clean those.

Hotlands had dried him off quickly as he had popped into the lab to grab some supplements and check Alphys’ latest results. Nothing all that important, though she had made progress on a new bio-mech container. The dogs also had registered six humans with no mention of a lost one. Perfect.
Haggling with Muffet, however, had been less perfect. Honestly Sans would have just paid for the damn things, but if you didn’t haggle then the price would just keep going up each time you tried to buy anything from her. Still, she hadn't tried to sic her pet on him so she must have been in a good mood.
He remembered how much calmer he had felt once he got back to the house, a cleaned out bucket in tow. He hadn't used the door, far too risky his little bird might be there waiting to fly the nest, despite his warning. Sans couldn’t help but feel thrilled that they were still sitting where he had left them.

She had practically inhaled the doughnuts, and when she had asked politely for water, Sans didn’t think he could feel more proud. Sure, she was still fighting back here and there. That was to be expected with a persistent soul. But each time she backed down and tried attacking from a different angle, her attempts became more muted. He was getting to her. Slowly but surely he was getting just a little more control. He could already see her soul trying to harmonize, just a little bit here and there in order to try and survive, to help her predict him, but it was enough to give Sans hope. Still, no matter what little ground he had gained he wanted MORE. He couldn’t help himself with the doughnut. When he had seen that pulse her soul had given off on mentioning her state of undress, how her skin had flushed red, the way the sugar dusted the corners of her lips...doughnuts had never tasted so good. Sans’ thoughts on where else this human might be sweet were put on hold by the sound of his phone.

Very few monsters knew his number, and even fewer would ever ring him. His lap buddy was already awake now so there was little point ignoring it. Digging into his coat pocket, Sans managed to fish out the battered phone. He checked the caller - Papyrus - yup, he had to answer this.

Chapter Text

You knew you were trapped, forced into this situation and you KNEW exactly whose fingers were currently in your hair, no matter how many times you closed your eyes to pretend they were someone else's, but...god, you were tired. You were tired of fighting, tired of failing, and just plain tired of your thoughts running round in circles like a headless chicken. To top it all off, like a big fat rotting cherry on your triple scoop shit sunday, all your thoughts were now about the other people. The lab. What they might be going through. How it could have been you there instead couldn’t deal with this, not right now. You hated yourself for being such a coward, but you just wanted to forget. You couldn’t help couldn’t even help yourself.

The stroking was...degrading, like you were some sort of cat laid out on Sans’ lap, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you weren't enjoying it, at least on a basic level. Who hasn't ever seen a cat sunning itself and wanted to trade places? Of course, even a cat would have more freedom than you did right now. You briefly wonder what Sans would do if you scratched up his sofa or vomited in his shoes. The image flashes in your head before being replaced with you in a litter box and then you with a belled collar on. That's it, it's official, you were going crazy. Ugh!

You didn’t WANT to be in this situation but...whining about it was not going to help, and a fat lot of good fighting did. At least right now Sans wasn’t trying to get anything from you, he just...seemed to like touching you, at the moment at least. You could feel he was running his fingers along where your bones were, like he was mapping you out. It was strange and hard to admit even to yourself, but the attention you were getting right kind of made you feel special. It was weird, there was no denying that, but you had never been touched like this before, you had never been coveted like this, made to feel both important and yet at the same time belittled. All these was too much to take in right now.

’Don’t think, just feel’

That’s all you could really do. Later. You would sort this all out later. You still had your plan. You weren't giving up. This was just a little break, a rest while you waited for a good moment to put your plan into action. Right now you just needed to relax, if for nothing else than to stop driving yourself insane with things you either had no control over or had already happened. You let out a sigh, close your eyes and just let the thrumming pur and gentle touches carry you.

You are not sure how long you dozed for, you might have even fallen into a light sleep once or twice, however a sharp ringing sound quickly wakes you and sends you sitting up onto your knees. Sans didn’t stop you, though you had not really been thinking about what Sans would and wouldn’t want you to do at that moment. That was a phone. It wasn’t a ringtone you recognised but it was a phone. A phone could be a way out. If you could call someone on the surface...

Sans answered the call, holding what was clearly his phone roughly against where his ears might have been. Did he hear from there somehow? You couldn’t even see any holes like there would have been on a normal human skull. None of this made sense so you decided to push that question to one side and file it under ‘don’t care’.

“Sup Paps.” You watched as Sans gets up and makes his way to the stairs. Clearly he didn’t want to be talking around you, but he didn’t seem too troubled that you might overhear him at the moment. Not that you cared what he thought. You can’t make out much from the other side of the call, other than a loud angry voice, but Sans doesn't seem too troubled by it other than holding the phone away from his head till he could speak again.

“How's the job treating ya?” This time you think it’s excited shouting... the pitch went up and it sounds less sharp, more flowing but still quick paced as Sans makes his way across the landing. You lose sight of him when he heads to the door he used last night, presumably his room.

“So long as ya happy.” That's all you managed to hear before the door closes.

You wait a moment, tense for some reason like you were being watched, but looking around you can’t see anything. Catching sight of the bucket, you decide to make use of it so you can avoid that embarrassment when Sans came back. Besides, if he was going to treat you like a cat, you would behave like one and force him to clean up after you as much as possible. You knew it was petty but it was all you had and it made you feel better.

With that taken care of, you sit back down and try to organise your thoughts. So Sans did have some friends then, or at least you were assuming it was a friend after he had spoken casually enough with them. Thinking back though he had done the same with the werewolves and they were clearly NOT friends. ‘Paps’. Weird name, but then again, so was Sans. Kinda sounded like ‘Pops’. Could it have been his dad? Did skeletons even have families? Maybe it was his necromancer father who brought him into his managed to stop your train of thought as you realise you needed more sleep. Having your brain going off on these wild tangents was not going to help. What mattered was that Sans had a working phone. If you could get it you might be able to use it. Just being able to talk to someone else other than Sans would be wonderful at this point, but the chance to be able to call someone on the surface could just provide you with a way out of this mess.

Looking up at the balcony to check if his door was still closed, you find yourself shrinking back into the sofa. Sans was there, clearly having finished his call. He was standing on the first floor looking down at you. Really looking down at you, pissed, with his weird fires of hell glowy eye thing. Needless to say he didn’t look happy. In fact, he looked about ready to break the banister he was holding onto as he glared.


Had you done something wrong? You didn’t think so. What had you done since he had been gone? You had used the bucket, but you were meant to do that It’s not like you had made a mess or anything. Other than that you had just sat quietly on the sofa. Oh, and made it a goal to try and steal his phone. Could he...could he read your mind? You feel the blood drain from you as sweat pricked at your skin. No, that couldn’t be it, could it? No, he would have rubbed that ability in your face ages ago if he could do that. Why won’t he stop staring? You felt like the strength was draining out of you every second in his sight.

Eventually he breaks the death glare, eyes returning to normal as he makes his way down the stairs...and towards you. You freeze and look at the floor, maybe if you didn’t make eye contact. Shit, you were dead. You were so dead and you had no idea why. His feet were in front of you, ergo so was the rest of him. You close your eyes tight, your knuckles turning white and your fingernails bite into the palms of your hands. This was it.

He leans in, his heat burning you and overall presence letting you know exactly where he is even with your eyes closed. There is the sound of cloth moving to your right and then you feel something hard and smooth press against your head. You think your heart has stopped as a deep, thunder-like rumble surrounds you before the pressure is removed. For a moment, nothing happens. You almost want something to happen just to break the tension. Hearing the door open, you suddenly turn but only to catch a glimpse of Sans finish pulling on his jacket before the door slams with a flurry of snow.

Breathing out and taking in a hurried breath after realizing you had been holding your last one for far too long, you put a hand to your chest and try to slow your heart’s beating. You had been scared of Sans before but that...what the hell was that? Angry was hardly a new look for him, but he had always been controlled. That, on the other hand, had been pure rage. You were still alive, maybe he had not been pissed off at you? What then? The phone call? That made more sense. You decide to make sure any further calls from this ‘Paps’ would lead to you finding a place to hide or maybe just a corner to wedge yourself in until the fallout passed by. As your breathing steadies you can still feel your pulse is going a mile a minute. You don’t think your heart can take another scare like that.

Looking around and realising that you were alone, you debate your next course of action. You had no idea when Sans would be back; maybe he had just gone outside to have a smoke and calm down, or maybe he would be gone all night. Then again, he hadn't told you to stay or anything, so technically you could do some exploring. Maybe find out what was in that other room at the top of the stairs or work out how to open the fridge? Finding yourself not moving from your position on the sofa, you decide it would be a bad idea to do anything that might piss Sans off further, at least while he was in this mood. So that left you with the TV.

Reaching over to take hold of the remote from the table, you examine it. The thing seemed normal enough. A little old and battered but that hardly mattered. You press the channel buttons but...nothing happens. Fiddly thing. Sans never seemed to have any problem getting a signal. After aiming in multiple ways (even holding it right up to the TV) and trying pretty much all of the buttons, you give up. Whatever trick Sans had to make this work, you couldn't do it. Tossing the remote back on the table, you cross your arms with an annoyed huff and flop back down on the sofa. Sulking for a few minutes, you tried to wrap your head around the current science program playing. Your eyes keep returning to the remote. Sans might not have wanted you to mess with that. Your fingers twitch and twist against one another before reaching forward and trying to reposition the remote back to where it had been when Sans had left.

With that done you sit back down feeling a little less stressed. The show was pretty interesting now you were listening. It was describing black holes and how time was affected by gravity, but you could feel yourself starting to nod off. Sleeping wouldn’t be a bad idea really. Moving onto your side so you can still watch the program, you lift your legs and pillow your arms to try and get comfy. You scrunch up your nose when you realize your head was resting where Sans had been sitting and you quickly move to lay on the other side so you could at least breathe without him smothering you. Even without him here, Sans still found a way to get to you.

Pushing all thoughts of the bag of bones from your head, you let yourself just forget about everything and watch the TV. You needed this. You needed something normal and mundane, even if it was just for an hour. Just some time where you didn't have to be scared, frustrated, molested or bullied. A few soft tears trace their way down your face, but for the first time you don’t try to stop them. There was no one here to see your weakness. You just want to go home, was that really so much to ask? Closing your eyes, you listen to the documentary and let your mind focus on it and nothing else. You lose your grip on wakefulness for a moment, the narrator's words fading into the background before they came back into focus. You realise it was pointless to keep holding on and the next time your grip fails, you let yourself fall.

Drawing in a deep breath through your nose, your mind starts to flicker back to life. Hunger pinches at your gut as a familiar smell pulls you back to the waking world. It takes a moment of blinking to regain your vision and then remember where you were. Sans’ place, sofa, hell. The smell, however, distracts you away from your current predicament and the sounds of movement pull your gaze towards the kitchen. You couldn’t see Sans but you assumed he was home and had either brought back food or was making food. You close your eyes again trying to relax and feign sleep. Maybe he would leave you alone for longer if he thought you were asleep.

Minutes slowly tick by and you find yourself wishing you could fall back to sleep, but your stomach was not happy with this sudden change to its intake and seemed to want to make that fact known. Still, even with your pinching gut you are able to at least enjoy dozing a bit longer in relative freedom. The feeling of freedom, however, fades when you hear Sans approach. The foot falls, the sound of his clothes moving, the slight click of bone against bone, the rustle of a paper bag. You recognise the sound of the cup, your cup, being placed on the table and decide to move your legs out of the way before Sans moved them himself, or sat on them. You hear Sans chuckle as you shift your legs against your chest with your feet slipping between the sofa cushions to avoid flashing the creep any more than you had to.

“Aww, looks like someone’s all tuckered out. Guess it'll just be me tuckin’ in.” Honestly you wished you weren't so hungry, but eating was on your plan and if you started skipping out on food, then you would regret it when your time came to escape. Sitting up and stretching you look down at the table. There was ‘your’ cup of water, a big bottle of mustard and a brown bag that Sans was currently tearing apart and opening out flat to reveal a burger and large portion of fries. Part of you wonders if Sans even owned any cutlery or if it was all just so dirty that he couldn’t be bothered to clean it. He also didn’t exactly have the healthiest diet from what you had so far experienced, though what was healthy for a skeleton would likely be open for debate.

Sans looked a lot more relaxed than he had when he had left. You could smell smoke on him again, actually the smell was really strong, like he had been sitting next to a campfire for a while. His coat was off and his slippers were on so you could assume he had no more plans to leave for today. You were not even sure what time it was. The light never seemed to change in this place at all and you had still yet to find a clock.

“What time is it?” You can’t see any harm in asking, and while it wouldn’t really help, it would at least be something solid you could use to try and track your time in this hell hole.

“Time ta eat.” Sans sat down in his usual spot before frowning and digging a hand in his shorts pocket. So much for that question.
“Speaking of eating, here ya go. Best ya eat this before we get to the good stuff.”

You sit up and look down at the pale brown slab of...something that had been fished out of his pocket. It was wrapped in clear plastic but, well, it could be the most wonderful slab of chocolate to ever grace the earth and you still wouldn’t want to put it in your mouth after it had been stewing inside Sans’ clothes. Your lip twitches up in disgust. It kind of looks like a granola bar, just less grainy and more fruity? It looked a little like fruit.
“What is it?”

“Humans need a bit more than us monsters. It’s got all the crap that ya can’t get from our food. Vitamins and stuff.” You pick it up gingerly from Sans’ hand. It was only about two inches in diameter, and less than half of that in thickness so you could manage it in one bite.
“I ain't gonna lie, it tastes worse than it looks, but the burger will clear that away quickly.”

The burger DID look good, the fries as well. Looking back at Sans, you realise this was not something you could fight there was anything you could fight about, you remind yourself. You peel off the plastic and sniff it before pulling it away. Nope, not fruit. You can’t really place what it was you were smelling, but it was certainly more salty than sweet.

“Ain’t something ya wanna savour, sweetheart. Best just to take it in one bite, chew and swallow.” Sans was already reaching over to pick up your cup. Was it really that bad?

Shoving the slab in you realise it really was that bad. It had an oily, salty texture to it and was clearly a good deal of meat, pork or something, but way too strong. If you had to guess what dehydrated dog or cat food tasted like, then this would be it. Yuck!
Somehow you manage to choke it down with only one moment you thought you would gag. Yay, you. Mercifully, Sans offers the cup of water which you drink without complaint.

“I guess you did warn me. What the hell was in that thing?” You stay seated as Sans fetches another cup of water, the burger and chips now smelling more heavenly than ever as your mouth begged to have something more palatable.

“I could print you a list of ingredients out but sometimes it's better not to know. Wasn’t really made to taste good, just to keep the humans alive.” It sounded so clinical, like one of those space food bars or the pills that people said you could survive off. Sans didn’t take long to return with another cup of water.
“Ya lucky I’m such a nice guy, the humans in the lab pretty much have to live off that stuff.” Nice guy, sure Sans, whatever helps you sleep at night. Even so, you feel another wave of guilt for the others who had not been so...lucky? No, that was a dangerous thought. You weren't lucky. This was just the lesser of two evils.

“Am I going to have to eat more?”

“Not today. One a day should be enough.” Sans laughs at the face you pull before collapsing back into his seat and sending you bouncing up. While you were not pressed up against the other armrest of the sofa like normal, you were also not right up next to the skeleton either. Something Sans decided to rectify.

You panic and try to pull away when you feel the arm snake around your back and grab hold of your waist.
“Relax pet, just gettin’ comfy.” You stop fighting as the arm drags you over to rest against Sans’ side. Glaring up at him, Sans gave a smug smile, daring you to protest or try and move. You don’t, and look away. You do however catch him smiling wider at your reaction. What the hell were you meant to do? Fighting got you nowhere, but complying just made you feel dirty, like you were giving up. No. You were not giving up. This...act was just leading Sans into a false sense of security. Once he felt like he had a happy little pet, he would start letting his guard down. Then you could escape.

The arm on your hip leaves you as Sans leans forward to grab the burger and layer it in mustard beneath the bun before treating the fries to the same fate. With the food now swimming in the yellow stuff, he lifts the whole makeshift tray to his lap. It takes a bit of folding, but he eventually manages to make sure the paper towel of food won't spill its contents everywhere. You take note that he seemed highly adept at the practice. Slob. Though it was not like you hadn't done the same once or twice when you were feeling particularly lazy.

With food in place, he grabs the burger and takes a bite before offering it to you. Looked like you were back to sharing his meals and being fed again, though it was possible that Sans simply had not been able to afford two burgers. Was Sans forced to split his meals with you? He didn’t seem to have a job and you assumed the food had to be bought with some sort of currency.

The burger still sits in front of your face with Sans waiting for you. You mouth an apology before taking a bite and savoring the wonderful flavor, even the mustard helped to at least burn away the taste of the meat slab. Sans starts his strange purring rumble again as he tucks his arm behind you and rests his fingers round your hip before taking another bite.
“S’good right?”

You nod and take another bite.

“Grillbz makes the best grub anywhere in the Underground. Help yourself to the fries.” You look down at the pile but feel reluctant to take one. Reaching into Sans’ crotch area was hardly something you wanted to do, no matter how hungry you were. You face suddenly blushes when you mind goes places that it really didn’t belong. You are sure you feel Sans rumble louder for a moment before he tucks you closer to him.
“Feelin’ a little warm there pet, need another bath?”

“No! The...the mustard is just a bit hot. Can I have some water?” Sans looks from you and then down to his lap full of food.

“Bit hard to mustard up the will to move at the moment, sweetheart.”

“I can get it…” You would much rather use the cup yourself than have to drink it from him anyway. Sans, however, looks reluctant as he puts a few more fries in his mouth and chews slowly while he thinks.

“Go on then, since ya been so good.” Your heart leaps as Sans lets go of your hip so you can move forward and take a drink. It felt so good not having to drink it all down in one go. You make sure to place the cup back down carefully before sitting back down against Sans, a little smile unable to leave your face.
“Good girl.”

The meal carries on without a hitch, other than a moment that a big dollop of mustard falls and hits one of your breasts. Sans moved quicker than you could and proceeded to use a chip to scoop up the sauce before popping it in his mouth with far more of his tongue showing than was necessary. You were left more than a little flustered at the display but decide it would be better to just ignore him. He wanted to get a rise out of you, so you just had to ignore him.

By the end of it, and with the former paper bag now scrunched up and thrown into the bin, you felt pleasantly full of good food (and a small amount of bad food). Sans seemed content enough to just have you sitting at his side rather than sprawled all over him and he had let you finish off your water by yourself even without his lap full of food. All in all, it was a pretty good evening.

When Sans eventually moved and stretches, you realise you must have been dozing off at his side and taking advantage of his heat since, well, despite the warm temperature of the room, you were still completely nude. Your first thought was ‘what time is it’, and your second thought was ‘what a stupid question’.

“Welp, I’m ready for bed.” You tense up. Last time he had gone to bed, you had ended up with your soul ripped out and stolen away. You didn’t remember much of that night, you just remember the pain and the terror that any moment you would feel your soul getting ripped into and torn apart like the wolves had done to the orange soul. Your legs come up to your chest as you hug them and try to hide your soul away.
“Ya gonna stay down here or come with me?”

“Will you take my soul if I stay down here?”

“Yup.” Well that was that, then. You look up onto the first floor. It was not like Sans couldn’t do whatever he wanted wherever he wanted, so going up there was no more dangerous than being on the sofa with him. Besides, it would be good to see more of the house; maybe there would be more options to escape. That was his room, his personal space, and it felt like you were giving him permission for...more by going with him. You feel a tug at your soul and you realise you were taking far too long to decide.

“With you.” The tug on your soul stops.

“Come on then.” Sans offers you his hand. This was you last chance to back down and you knew it. Skin touches bone and you find yourself helped up from the sofa and walking towards the stairs.

Okay, this was okay. Sans was tired. You were tired. You were just going to sleep.

At the top of the stairs, you still don’t see anything that might help you escape. There was a window at the very end of the hall but again it was barred tightly. Other than that were two doors. One had warning signs all over it, but it was the other door you were being led to. You stumble, unsure if this was the right decision, but Sans is able to catch you and keep you moving forward.

Your heart feels like it is about to explode. Closing your eyes, you try to take a few deep breaths to get it under control, not even realizing that within that time you had already entered his room. The door closed softly behind you. You hear the click of a lock. Shit! Bad idea, bad idea. Sans sees you panic and closes in to hold you against his chest, head tucked under his chin.

“Shhh, easy there pet. No need to be scared. It’s just you and me. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” You feel him stroking your hair and along your back and can’t help but cling to the feeling and help keep you from drowning in fear.

Eventually your panic subsides and Sans is able to let go without you rushing to the door. Gently, he coaxes your soul out. No pulling, just calling it out into the space between the two of you. It glows brightly in the dim light of the room. You reach out to take hold of it, to feel the security of your own touch, only to watch it turn a dark blue.


“Don’t worry little bird, ya safe. I just need to make sure ya don’t do something silly while I’m sleeping.” You watch as he carefully draws your soul towards an ornate bird cage before locking it inside.
“See, nice and safe.”

“Sans please, it feels wrong. I don’t want…”

“Shh, it’s okay pet. It’s just something you have to get used to. Relax. Ya safe with me.” The cage is hooked on a chain well above your reach. You don’t notice Sans come back to your side. All your focus was on the little purple heart and how it flickered and spun against the bars of the cage that now pulled towards you.
“It’ll hurt more if ya focus on it. Focus on something else instead.”

But you can’t, you wanted your soul back.

“This way, little bird.” Sans gently takes hold of one of your shoulders and pulls you backwards and further away from the cage, each step pulling and stretching you. It was a relief when he finally stops and you are able to get used to the distance. It hurt, but...if you relaxed, the pain eased a little. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look away or move any further. Suddenly, the purple light is blocked from view as Sans steps between you and it.
“Don’t focus on ya soul, focus on me.”

Your eyes flick to his as you try to focus. It was hard to keep your thoughts straight, like you were drunk or half asleep. Everything just seemed muffled. Bony digits stroke the side of your face, drawing your attention. Your eyes close for a moment and try to grasp hold of the sensation and ground yourself on the touch, gently tracing from your temple and round your jaw. Feeling a little steadier, your eyes open and are filled with Sans, his glowing red eyes casting ruby highlights along his bones as the purple of your own soul illuminates the world around him.
“Don’t think, just feel.”

Your own thoughts echo his words.

One of his hands slides to cup the back of your head while the other moves to place itself on the small of your back. Slowly, Sans leans forward. He was going to kiss you. Your heart was fluttering as the purple light in the room twisted and flickered. You didn’t want this. He pulls you closer. You didn’t want any of this. The hand on the back of your head tightens in your hair when you try to turn your face away, your eyes closing tightly as your mouth and teeth clamp shut. You hear Sans laugh darkly as he changes his movements so his teeth meet the crook of your neck.

“Still afraid of ya’self pet?” His tongue laps against the skin and snakes up to the shell of your ear.

“I don’t want this.” Finally you voice your rejection, it was barely a whisper but it was more than loud enough for him to hear.

“That's your problem, not mine.” He purrs the words into your ear as he moves forward, forcing you back and sending you tripping over the mattress behind you. No… no this was going too far. Your head moves quickly from side to side, desperate to try and find a way out. You were trapped. You were on Sans’ bed trapped and he was about to-

“I said NO! Can’t you understand ‘no’? Don’t touch me! T...this is rape!” You move back, away from Sans. You had put up with so much until now, but you refuse to just lay back and accept this. You were no idiot, he was stronger than you in so many ways, but even if you had no chance to fight him off, you would at least be able to hold your head up high that you didn’t let this happen willingly.

“Oh pet, ya were doing so well.” Sans moves forward slowly in the darkness his eyes flashing and his teeth pulling into a smile that would put a hungry wolf to shame. He lowers himself to his knees on the bed, all focus on you.
“I told ya I would take care of ya.” Moving back further, you find something cold and solid stopping you: the wall.
“I said I would make sure no one ever hurt ya again.” You kick out at Sans, aiming at his head that glowed in the mix of red and purple light in the room. You missed. He moved faster than you could react, not only avoiding your attack but grabbing both of your legs and pinning them to the bed.
“And that includes ya hurting ya’self.” There is still no aggression in his voice. He sounds calm and completely in control. In one swift motion, he uses your legs to drag you back down to him, spreading them either side of his kneeling form.

“The only one hurting me is YOU!” You try to slap Sans, but again, he is able to avoid your attack. Something hard presses along the tops of your ankles. It felt like a wooden pole and prevented you from moving your legs. Panic starts to build and the purple light of your soul starts to flicker with white.

“Sweetheart, whatever is going to happen will happen. You don’t have a choice.” With your legs now unable to move, Sans is free to use his hands to snatch up your own. You try to pull away, to twist your feet and slide them under the bar, but any time you feel either hold loosen it comes back double. The touch of cloth around your wrists brings tears to your eyes. Why did you have to be so weak?! You try to hold onto your rage, but you can already feel yourself giving up. This was useless. He was too strong.

“But you do have one choice, little bird.” With your arms now bound together, he raises them up to his teeth, placing what could only be described as a pseudo kiss against the back of your hands before lifting them over your head. With a firm push to your chest, he pushes you back down onto the bed and secures your arms on something behind you. As soon as he lets go he pulls back, watching with smug satisfaction as you try to sit back up and release your arms. You can do neither.

“You can choose to accept what I’m offering you.” His head moves down to your breasts, licking the spot where the mustard had fallen just a few hours earlier, his eyes still watching your face and yours his.
“I can make you feel so good.” His tongue moves to the other breast, this time sliding and twisting against your nipple, the friction and warmth quickly building it to a peak. In the dim light you can see his tongue glows a faint red in much the same way as his eyes do.
“Don’t you want to feel good?”

“No! Not like this. Please, Sans.”

Your pleas go unnoticed as Sans turns his attention back to your other breast, intent on building it up to the same peaked state as its twin. Teeth graze the mound, causing you to whimper at the thought of him biting down. Yet still he remains gentle, his arms either side of your chest supporting his position above you. Slowly, as though he had to taste every inch of your skin, Sans makes his way down your stomach. His arms shift to rub and glide along the insides of your thighs and around the edges of your hips. You turn your eyes to the ceiling, not wanting to see any more.

“What are you fighting against, pet?” You can feel his breath between your legs. You pull against the material around your wrists again, doing nothing but forcing it to bite tighter into your skin.


“Why? Am I hurting ya?” He sounds genuinely confused. You wished you could tell him that he was hurting you, but the sudden feeling of his tongue sliding between your legs makes you gasp for breath. The room was suddenly brightened by a flash of purple. Pain? No, it was certainly not pain you were feeling right now.

“I...I don’t want this!” Another slow lap against the full length of your slit sends you trying to move your hips away, but it earns you nothing but a warm laugh. A jolt coils at your core and you try to convince yourself that it was simply from the touches, not from the sound of his voice

“Then you are fighting against ya’self. I offer ya pleasure.” This time when you feel his tongue glide, you feel it press hard against your entrance, but refusing to enter. You hold back a whimper and bite your lip. Instead, the tip trails up to your clit to play with the sensitive bundle of nerves, calling it to play. Only when you let out a shuddered gasp does he stop his torment.
“Yet ya refuse to let ya’self enjoy it. Why?”

It takes you a moment to catch your breath. To break free from the silence you had desperately been trying to hold onto.
“ w...wrong.”

“No pet, there is nothing wrong with enjoying life, with enjoying the body ya have.” Again you feel his tongue press against you, but this time it dips in for a second. You barely had time to miss its absence before it slides in again, and then again. Slowly, it smoothes and rubs itself against your fluttering walls, drawing more whispered pleas and heavy breaths. He stops for a moment, giving you a chance to try and regain your breath and take hold of your crumbling defences.
“How could this ever be wrong?”

“Sans...please.” You try to fight off your body’s reactions but even you don’t know what you are asking Sans for at this moment. You felt like you would break if he continued, or shatter if he stopped.

“Ya need to stop hurting ya’self little bird.” His fingers are now at your clit, moving, sliding, stroking, his thumb barely dipping into you. Your eyes turn from the ceiling and look down at the creature tormenting you and you feel your breath catch in your throat. If ever the devil had a face, it would surely look something like Sans did at the moment. Bathed in red and purple light. His eyes held yours like nothing else in the world mattered.
“I want to set ya free, to hear ya sing. Do you want that? Do ya want to sing for me?”

“Sans.” Your head tips back. It wasn’t enough. You could feel the edge, the slow build up making you gasp as your arms strained in their bonds, but if freed, would they push him away or draw him closer?

“Say it.”

“Please.” You just needed a little more. You had given up all hope of fighting. Nothing else mattered right now. You were locked in the moment. Suspended between bliss and eternity, neither here nor there, a torturous limbo.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Set me free.” Those words seem to unlock the chains that kept Sans at bay. He surges up on top of you, his teeth and tongue kissing and nipping along your clavicle and neck like he’s starved and about to devour you whole. His fervor frightens you but your struggles only seem to edge him on. Hands tangle in your hair and or on your breasts, kneading, pulling, hungry to touch and feel every inch of you as your back arches. Your skin was slick with sweat and sensitive enough to count the threads of the t-shirt Sans wore.

Skin grinds against bones, hips desperate to recapture the pressure that had left you so close. In a dizzying moment of sensations, you feel something warm nudge against your swollen cunt and moan with need, not once questioning what, or who, it was. Thoughts unravel as your legs open wider, desperate to sate your need, to find release in this primal act. Sans wastes no time and enters you, the smooth shaft finding no resistance, only welcoming wet heat and rippling walls. He quickly hilts in just two thrusts, grunting and letting out his own gasp as the two bodies join.

The feeling of being filled is the final push you need and tips you over the edge, sending you spiraling into an orgasm that has you screaming and clawing for breath. Your legs, somehow unrestrained, desperately try to find purchase. Spasms, lasting longer than you had ever known, try to draw him in deeper and you gasp in time with each one. Sans thrusts in wild abandon, his roughness triggering a second orgasm before the first even had time to fade.

You were lost. Lost in feeling, lost in thought, lost in any concept of time or space. The room around you spins in a mixture of purple and red as you feel Sans’ pace pick up. With a hard thrust he lifts his head sharply from your neck and lets out a guttural growl. You feel a sparking heat hit deep inside you as he stills, holding his possessive position above you, eyes blazing and painting your face in red. After a moment you feel him roll his hips slowly to stab deeper inside you once, then twice before falling entwined at your side, breath coming in laboured gasps and bones creaking.

The last thing you hear before you let the abyss claim you is the skeleton’s voice at your ear as he gently moves the stray locks of hair from your face.

Chapter Text

Waking was not pleasant. This was not the first time you had stirred from sleep, but it looked like it would be the last. You felt empty and aching, coated in a layer of sweat and other fluids. You wished that sleep would drag you back into the darkness, even if it provided little comfort or rest. Your body and soul still fought to try and adapt to the distance they were currently separated by; it hurt less now but it still left you feeling foggy if you didn’t work to focus on something.

Was this it? Was this what your life had been reduced to? A fuck toy and pet for a demon? You try to move, suddenly feeling like you can’t breathe, but other than shifting your legs a little you may as well be encased in steel. At your back stood the wall while your front was cradled into Sans’ side. He lay sleeping on his spine, one arm acting as the world's most uncomfortable pillow. It snaked around and gripped your shoulder while the other arm draped across his chest and abdomen, his hand resting on your hip. The hold kept you pressed tightly against him, practically forcing you to straddle his hip. You could feel the uncovered bone against your skin, but the loose bedspread thankfully saved you the embarrassment of the sight. Your own arms, still bound in the soft strip of black cloth that had before held you in place on the bed, were trapped against your chest and face but helped to keep you at least a little apart from Sans’ shirt covered ribcage.

Your breath hitches and comes in stuttered gasps. You had to move. You couldn’t breathe. Everything was too heavy, too close. The light in the room started to flicker and flash, reminding you of your soul and spurring you further to try and escape. Your struggles, however, only lead to waking the sleeping demon at your side.

He shifts and looks down at you, moving to pull himself onto his side as he searches your face for something, the predatory look from last night gone.
“Easy there pet, just breathe.” The arm on your hip moves to stroke back the hair that's fallen into your face.
“Nice and slow. In and out.” You try to gain some control of your own body to take hold of your breathing. It’s hard. Tears sting in your eyes as your breathing breaks down into sobs. You couldn’t even breathe properly. Everything was gone. It was all wrong.
“Shhh, ya safe. Ya don’t have to be scared. Don’t think, just...”

“...Feel.” You finish what he was about to say, choking out the word and looking up at him, before breaking down into more tears.
“I..i don’t want to f...feel. It’s wrong. I’m wrong. W...why are you doing this?”

“Oh my little bird, because I want to set ya free.” With those words he shifts again to take your hands and start unbinding them. You stare at his bony fingers, watching as they carefully manipulate your own before gently stroking where the ribbon had bruised the skin from last night.

“I don’t understand.” How was this freedom? Everything he was doing was the opposite of freedom. You tried to stay focused, but your head was a mess at the moment without your soul. Everything was just so much harder to focus on.

“Free from worry, free from fear, free from pain. Free to just feel happy and safe and loved.” He pulls one of your hands to his mouth and places the underside of your wrist against his teeth. The skin tingles where he touches, his eyes watching your face as you start to steady your breathing.
“My fragile little bird. Here ya are crying, hurting ya’self, and for what? Because I made ya feel good?”

“I didn’t want you to! I said no and you didn’t listen.”

“And that’s why you're crying? Because you didn’t want me?” You nod as you try to hold back more tears. You wanted to hate him, but right couldn’t. You don’t know why but the way he was looking at you, the way he was touching you so carefully, you couldn’t hate him.
“It felt good though, right? I didn’t hurt ya?” Last night had been a blur of fear and sex. It was hard to piece everything together but, other than a soft ache and the sting on your wrists, he hadn't exactly hurt you. That didn’t mean it was right! You don’t know how to answer him and end up lowering your eyes to watch him stroking your hands with small, tender motions and circles.
“Ya have to stop choosing what you want and what you don’t want. Just accept and you will never have any regrets.” Looking back at his face, you frown. How could he expect you to give up your freedom? Choices are what made you who you are. There were always going to be mistakes, but you needed them to make yourself stronger, to build character...right? You felt yourself drift as you try to pull yourself together, your soul calling out.

“Sweetheart, don’t ya see.” Sans lets your hand drop and cups the side of your face gently as though it was made from spun sugar. You feel the heat from his bones more than the actual touch. It didn’t feel real. Your eyes close as you lean into the hand, desperate to feel something solid, anything to keep your thoughts focused.
“Ya don’t have to worry anymore. No more choices. No more mistakes. I will make ya life bliss, but ya have ta trust me. I won’t ever hurt ya, sweetheart. Ya mine in every way. All ya have to do is accept it.” Again, that deep purr returned. It seemed to seep into your very bones and snatch the thoughts that tried to form. Still, you had to try and fight your case.

“Getting hurt’s part of living.” Everyone gets hurt. It's normal, it helps you enjoy the good things in life and teaches you how to stay safe. You didn’t like getting hurt but...that was just life...wasn’t it?

“Why?” It was a simple question, but you couldn’t put an answer into words, not while the world thrummed around you and your very being was split in two.

“’s just...That's the way it is.”

“That’s the way it is on the surface, but little bird, down here with me, you never have to hurt again. No more tears.” Sans wipes a tear away just as it was about to roll down your cheek. He gently moves you to tuck you against his chest, his head coming down to rub against your crown and hold you tighter. You tense for a second know he won’t hurt you and you let yourself relax. Thinking was too hard. You needed your soul. It was better to just give up for now. No point in fighting. As you let go of your thoughts and succumb to sleep once more, you can’t help but feel safe, even as you hate yourself for doing so.

An hour ticks by before either of you stir.

You felt better when you next wake up, rested for a change. You were still tucked against Sans’ chest, the faint thrum coming from him as he strokes your hair.
“Morning, sweetheart.” You respond in kind out of habit and feel Sans nuzzle the top of your head. Finally, the bag of bones found the energy to move and get out of the bed. You duck your head away when you see that, as you had thought, he did not have anything covering his lower half but turn back confused when your brain was able to focus on the brief glance you had caught. He was just...bone. Spine, pelvis, leg bones, nothing more. You had been sure he had stuck you with...something last night, and it most certainly had not just been a couple of fingers, or even his whole hand with how stretched you had felt. Shaking your head you push the thought away. It was too early for this sort of crap.

With Sans now on the other side of the room digging through a pile of clothes and conducting what could only be a smell test on them - eww, you can’t help but move over to your soul, every step loosening the tense knot that clung to your chest and made it hard to think and breathe. This was better. After a couple of deep breaths you felt, more controlled with your soul just above. You still wanted it back, it still felt like you had a gaping hole that was raw and unprotected, but this was better.

You jump when something red suddenly lands on your face and covers you. Fighting it off, you find it's just cloth, a t-shirt. More specifically Sans’ t-shirt he had just been wearing judging by the smells and the stains you had ended up memorising due to the length of time you had been forced to stare at it.

“Put that on.” You turn to see Sans pulling on a gray turtleneck before looking back down at the t-shirt you still held. Clothes would be fantastic but...well, these smelt of Sans, smoke, sweat, hardly something you wanted to be wrapped around you. Then again, you were not exactly smelling of roses either.

“Um, can I wash first?” You knew there was no way out from wearing the stinking material, but you would to at least like to be a little cleaner yourself first.

“Heh heh, eager ta get wet again?” Sans was finally pulling on some pants, long baggy ones this time, but still black.

“No.” You answer much too quickly and have to stop yourself from moving away. You didn’t want to annoy Sans when you were so close to getting your soul back.
“It’s just I smell and, and I don’t...want to get your clothes dirty?” You didn’t even sound convincing to yourself. Your hands twist nervously in the material. Thankfully, Sans seem to take it as a joke and started laughing as he made his way to you.

“Pet, ya can make my clothes as filthy as ya like. Besides.” He takes hold of the red cloth, as well as your hands, before pulling you a little closer and lowering his head to your neck.
“Right now, ya smell good enough to eat.” Sans nips at your skin before giving it a slow lap with his tongue. You can’t help but shudder and watch your soul’s light display. He moves back with the t-shirt in hand after it had fallen from yours. Opening it out he waits expectantly as you raise your arms for him to slip the material over your head. Your world was suddenly cut off and muffled by red with Sans’ stink surrounding you for a moment before you're able to break free into the relatively fresher air.

You felt like a child being helped to dress, though no child should ever have to suffer lingering touches along their sides as the cloth was slowly lowered. Sans steps back as though to admire his handy work. His brow bone lifts as he gives a slow look up and down that makes you pull your arms back to your chest. You feel more nude now than you had a few minutes ago.
“Damn.” The sound was more growl than word.
“Red really suits ya, pet.” His smile grows and his eyes flicker as he takes a step forward.

Thankfully, whatever he had planned was interrupted by a harsh ringing that sounded like it was coming from downstairs. You recognise Sans’ phone though it seems like it takes a little longer for Sans to recognise it. Giving a frustrated sigh you watch as Sans turns and reaches for the cage that held your soul. Fear is replaced with hope as the little cage is opened and your light is able to be returned, floating towards you, just as eager to be whole again. You hug it to your chest, like a mother would her child, before it finally settles back inside where it belonged. At last, everything felt right. Well, everything other than being trapped with a perverted demon.

“Come on, before ya make me late.” What Sans could be late for you’re not sure, but you were not about to be blamed for anything if you could avoid it. Plus, getting out of his room meant you were finally able to breathe, though not too deeply due to your current attire. Once on the lower level of the house, you keep close to the bottom of the stairs and out of big bad and bony’s way in case this was another call from ‘Paps’. After a bit of fishing around, Sans manages to grab his phone out of the sofa.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m up.” The other voice on the line was much quieter than the last one, so you were not able to pick up what was being said.
“Just give me half an hour.” This was the first time you had heard Sans be so flippant to anyone. Well, other than yourself.
“I said half an hour. Ya lucky I’m coming over at all.” Another pause as he looks around the room for something.
“Don’t worry, that little horror show of yours can last thirty minutes without me there.” There is no goodbye when the phone is clicked off and you sense it was likely to prevent an argument. Looks like it was not just you who found him an ass to deal with.

After one last scan of the room, Sans makes his way to the kitchen. Taking advantage, you quickly use the bucket, which unfortunately had yet to be emptied and smelt worse than the t-shirt you were wearing. You just manage to finish off before Sans comes back in the room clutching a piece of thick black cloth.
“I got ya this yesterday. Can’t have ya flashing every monster in Snowdin.” They were shorts. Very short, black denim shorts but they were at least something to keep you covered.

You walk over to Sans, unable to keep the pleased look off your face. Happy? No, not by a long shot, but you were pleasantly surprised that Sans would get you something of your own, even if it was for his own reasons.
“Thank you Sans.” You don’t wait to be asked, if anything you were hoping to show the skeleton that being nice and treating you like a person got a lot better results than treating you like a pet. If you were willing to bend, then so should he.

Sans watches with a hungry look in his eyes as you pull the shorts on. The belt attached is...well, it's different but not wholly unexpected. Bones, like little finger bones all jointed and strung together. They were even able to snap together and apart seamlessly at the front with only a small ‘tail’ of bones hanging from the belt. Magnetic maybe?

As you fiddle with the belt, Sans manages to hook a finger in one of the pockets and pull you closer to him before using both of his hands to grab your ass. You jump in surprise at the sudden touch.
“They fit?” You nod your head and say yes but keep your face lowered, you were sure you had gone bright red.
“Aww pet, no need to be embarr-ass-ed. Look at me.” As he emphasized the word, Sans made sure to give your rear end a good squeeze. You yelp at both the feeling and the fact the rough denim was rubbing you in very inappropriate places. Of course, this just causes the creep to laugh before his tone dropped a little more serious.
“Pet, I said look at me.” You raise your face to his, sure that it must be close to the colour of the top you are now wearing. His eyes, lights, or whatever those glowing embers are, catch yours.

“These come off for no one but me. Ya got that?” He gave a tug on the shorts. You nod slowly.
“And when I say they come off, I expect them off right away. Otherwise…” Sans tilts his head slightly to one side as you feel him slip a thumb either side of your hips and pull on the material enough for you to hear it strain.
“These shorts will get a whole lot shorter.” Again, you nod. Okay, behave and get to keep the clothes. That was simple enough. You could do that. The question was why you were being given clothes in the first place? Not that you were complaining. It just seemed like Sans prefered you...well, sans clothes.

“Good girl. Now let's go.” Sans detaches himself from you and grabs his hoodie and shoes.

“Go?” He was taking you somewhere outside? You were suddenly not so sure about this. True you wanted to escape, and being outside would make that a lot easier, but you knew there were other monsters out there. Not to mention it was freezing and you were hardly dressed for that sort of weather. You didn’t even have any shoes.

“Yup. Need ya to stay with a...friend of mine.” You were not too sure about the way Sans said ‘friend’. You were also not really interested in meeting anyone who would consider Sans a friend. Truth be told - the house was a lot safer in many respects.

“I don’t have any shoes.”

“Don’t worry, it ain't far. Don’t tell me ya getting cold feet?” He laughs as he wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you towards the door. Jeez, what put him in a good mood this morning? Oh right, getting his end away last night probably helped with that. Well, it looked like trying to run away would be out of the question...which is likely the point you suddenly realise.
When the door opens you are sure it must be colder than you remember it. You huddle closer to Sans just to try and keep warm. Your feet instantly feel like they are both burning and freezing at the same time, and it takes a good push from Sans just to get you moving. The pain keeps your mind from thinking of much more than keeping one foot in front of the other, and while it is true that you didn’t have to walk far, each step felt like eternity.

Your feet feel like they are blocks of ice by the time Sans and you reach a brightly lit bar. ‘Grillby’s’, according to the big neon sign. There is another sign in the window.
‘Fuck off! We’re closed!’ Oh, that looked very promising. Sans, however, didn’t seem perturbed and proceeded to knock.

“Open up, Grillbz.” You hear a dull click of a heavy lock before the door opens slightly to reveal...a human? Your eyes are practically out of their sockets by how wide they have gone and suddenly your feet no longer hurt. The guy, he was definitely a human guy, looks over the both of you before opening the door wider to let you in. You can’t take your eyes off him. A real human. Alive. Were there more? Your last question is quickly answered as two more humans make themselves known, another guy and a young girl. Unfortunately, they were not the only inhabitants of the closed bar.

Purple. Bright burning purple flames in the shape of a tall, thin man leaning casually against the bar. He was smartly dressed in a black suit with silver pinstripes, the white shirt underneath is left unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Was this another monster? You find yourself leaning against Sans again, but his attention was soon drawn away from you.

“SANS!” The young girl you had seen cleaning the tables before suddenly shouted with joy and made her way to the skeleton. She could only be about sixteen or seventeen, certainly no older than that.

“Hey’ya Sweetpea, ya miss me?” The girl nodded as Sans let go of you to stroke the girl’s short brown hair. She was practically purring as he touched her. You look around, confused as to what you were seeing. The two guys had gone back to what you assume was their work of tidying the bar, not paying any attention to either you or the sickening display of affection in front of them. There was something ‘off’ about them now you had chance to really take them in. They looked...empty. Their blank stares as they conducted their tasks sent a shiver up your spine. You turn to see Sans still with the girl. Her eyes were focused on him but...even she seemed empty of all but the smallest sparks of life. What the hell had happened to these people? Was this what happened when you gave up all hope of escaping? And why the hell was she so happy to see Sans?

The feeling of heat at your back and the crackle of a fire reminds you that humans were not the only ones here. Slowly, you turn around and find yourself way too close to this new monster. He might not be the same colour as fire, but he certainly smelt and flickered like fire and you really didn't want to get burnt. How his clothes were nothing but ash and cinders you didn’t know, but you can only assume it was another one of the weird things that just ‘was’. His head tilts to one side as he appraises you beneath his gaze, glasses reflecting his own flames. You didn’t even try to work out why living fire would need glasses; this world was too weird to try and explain everything.

Eventually there is a flicker in the flames atop his head and he extends a hand towards you. Instinctively, you step back and look over to Sans, but he seems enamored with the other girl and is clearly going to be no help here. You look back at the new monster, his hand still extended.

‘Please don’t burn me, please don’t burn me, please don’t burn me.’ Your mind continues to pray as you reach out to shake the offered hand. It’s...warm. Soft, almost, and certainly welcome after the cold walk you had just had to suffer. You move to shake the hand politely only to find the purple flames twist to trap your fingers in soft heat. You watch almost paralyzed as the monster bends down slightly and lifts the hand to his face. You feel a strange tingling heat spread across the surface of your hand as it is gently placed against the lower part of the monster’s face. A kiss? You feel your face heat up and try to rationalize that it's just because of how close you are to this living man of fire. Watching the creature’s face, you suddenly notice the glowing white pits set just behind his glasses. He is watching you. Watching your face as he lowers your hand yet still keeping it trapped in his. He moves just slightly forward, now almost leaning above you . Wow, was it getting hot in here or was it just you?

The moment is lost when you feel yourself yanked back and find Sans now standing between you and this purple flamed demon.
“Back OFF!” Shit! Sans sounded pissed. The other, however, simply stands back to his full height, clasps his arms behind his back and shrugs. The two standoff for a moment before Sans moves back and grabs hold of you.
“This was a bad idea. Come on sweetheart.” He starts to lead you away before you both hear a crackling voice, something so inhuman it was hard to make out that it had said words at all.

“Where else?” The voice clearly belonged to the fire man, if you could call it a voice, however those two words stop Sans in his tracks. He growls and holds you tighter before he finally seems to come to a decision.

“Stay here. Grillbz an’ I need to have a”

Chapter Text

You watch as Sans and the fire man leave through a door in the back. ‘Grillbz’. It seemed likely that Mr. Fire was the aforenamed Grillby, and owner of this place due to Sans’ nickname for him. It’s still confusing how a fire monster can even exist, let alone work in a wooden building surrounded by flammable liquid, but it made about as much sense as everything else did.

Your hands absently reached up to rub the gooseflesh from your arms. It looked like Grillby was the only heat in this place, thus you were starting to feel his absence. The hairs on the back of your neck, however, were prickling for other reasons. Looking around you try to build your nerve back up, but the shadows that flickered in the dimly lit corners of this place gave you a very unsettled feeling. The other humans didn’t help with the ambiance either. They moved like they were in a trance, their steps and actions a little clumsy but measured, like they were working in the dark. Maybe they were blind? Another shiver passes down your spine and you try to pull the smelly t-shirt closer around your form. It did little to stop the errant drafts, or keep your body heat trapped. The other humans didn’t seem to be affected by the sudden dip in temperature. Then again they were wearing clothes that were clearly made for their size. White shirts with dark purple waistcoats and black trousers, even Sweetpea wore the same. Part of you wondered if it was just Sans that had a ‘taste’ for humans as Grillby seemed to prefer his staff showing as little skin as possible. Either that or it was to make sure the patrons knew what was and what wasn't on the menu.

The thought of other monsters coming into the bar made you quickly glance back at the door. Were the humans cleaning up after the bar had closed or were they cleaning up just before the bar opened? You had no idea what sort of time it was. Though you had just woken up after a long, if uncomfortable, sleep you could have just as easily slept through the day and woken up in the evening...if those words even meant anything to these monsters that lived in the perpetual dim light.

Why was Sans taking so long? You stop for a moment when you realise what you had just thought. You should be happy that you get some time away from the bag of bones! This was messed up. If you were back at the house then you know you would be very happy to be free of him, but here? This was uncharted territory, and living was something you wanted to keep doing. Even so, feeling safer when Sans was around? That did not sit well with you at all. True, he was always saying he would never hurt you, and technically he hadn't; but, he was not a safe person, er, monster, and he should not make you feel safe in any situation. What the hell was wrong with you? You needed to get your emotions under control before you really did turn into the pet Sans seemed intent on molding you into.

Deciding you couldn’t just stand around and act like a doll with its strings cut, you make your way over to the girl Sans had been fussing over. If she knew Sans, then maybe she could help you, or at least help you make sense of him. Actually, any information would be fantastic right about now. Sans had called her ‘Sweetpea’, but you were guessing that was just a nickname like when he called you ‘little bird’ or ‘sweetheart’. You certainly didn’t feel comfortable using that name to get her attention. Instead, you wait a little longer till she has finished cleaning one of the tables. Unfortunately she completely ignores you and just moves to the next table. Maybe she really was blind?

“Um, hello?” You speak up and watch as she finally turns to face you. Her head, however, is bowed, clearly not wanting to look at your face. It made her look even smaller than she was. Poor thing looked like she had been through a lot.

“Hello. May I take your order?” The words are spoken with little to no emotion, clearly lacking in the sunny joy she expressed when she had been speaking to Sans. It made your stomach drop and you question what had happened to these people. This was wrong. Humans shouldn’t have to work like this, suffer like this. Were all humans down here either slaves or test subjects? How long had this been happening? Surely someone had to notice that people were going missing on the surface.

The girl was still waiting for your ‘order’.

“Er, no. I just wanted to talk.” Maybe they thought you were another monster or something. It was surprising enough for you to see other humans in this hostile world of myths and monsters, but what must it be like for someone as broken as she was?
“Look, I’m human. Like you.” You try to sound optimistic and friendly but it ends up coming out more desperate. She was human, right? Not some sort of changeling or mimic?

“I have to clean the tables.” Your heart twists. You might not be completely sure if she was human but it didn’t stop you from feeling bad for her. Were they too far gone? Too broken to do anything other than what they were trained for? You look around at the two guys. They were older than Sweetpea. One in his early twenties, very dark, almost black short hair, with a nose that looked like it had been broken and set wrong at some point. The other was a tall beanpole of a guy with short sandy brown hair, likely late twenties or early thirties. Neither were showing any interest in anything but cleaning and organising the place. You couldn’t just give up. There had to be some spark of life deep down you could reach.

“What If I help you clean?” You say, turning back to Sweetpea with a hopeful smile. “Then we could talk at the same time.” You just had to be a bit more persistent. Even if they were completely lost, you could still get some information if you just kept them talking enough.

“Okay.” Well, if you could get them to talk.

You pick up the dustpan and brush sitting on the side and start sweeping around and under the tables. It doesn't take long to notice the amount of hair you are picking up. Actually, fur would be a better description. It makes you wonder if Grillby had a pet dog. Remembering the werewolves that had initially held you captive leads you to really hope Grillby had a dog.
“So, how do you know Sans?” You notice the girl stopped cleaning the table for a moment before she continues her work.

“Sans saved me.” That was a surprise. Then again maybe this was a regular thing for Sans. Save a human, break them in, and then sell them off. Ugh, the thought of ending up like these guys was seriously making you consider risking the cold outside. It would be quick. Open the door and then just keep running as far as you can, as fast as you can. True, the cold might get you, but did that matter? Death would be better than ending up as nothing but a shell. were not so far gone that you could give up still had hope. You could get through this alive and intact.

“Me too.” You hoped that by pointing out the things you had in common with Sweetpea, that she might start opening up more. So far, no luck, the girl just keeps on cleaning. Maybe you need to keep going, to keep talking, and she would join in. She has likely not really spoken with anyone ‘normal’ for a long time, so you could understand she might be a little out of practice.
“He stopped me from falling off a cliff. I probably would be dead right now if not for him.” It was a hard fact to accept but it was true. That did not, however, give him any right over you. You can’t own another person just because you saved their life. The problem was convincing him of that fact.

Still, you get nothing from Sweetpea. She moves onto another table and you follow. You're desperate to find any sign of ‘life’, just something to show she wasn’t completely empty, something to give you hope for your own situation.
“How did he save you?” You watch as the girl stops her cleaning. She is standing so still she could have been made out of stone. Looking around you notice the two guys have also stopped moving. It was like someone had hit the pause button. Just as you are about to risk poking her to try and get some sort of a reaction, she starts moving again. Her shoulders hunch up and she visibly shrinks as though trying to make herself as small as she can while still standing. A single word passes her lips, but it was a word you knew and it needed no explanation.


The bar is quiet, and for just a moment, you feel a connection with the empty eyed humans. You had found the spark. The last lingering vestiges of their humanity...and it was pure fear.

The sound of a door opening cuts that little connection off immediately. The fear in their eyes was gone...but so was the glimmer of life you had seen. You find yourself conflicted as to which state was really the most horrific. Sans and Grillby make their way from behind the bar, their conversation clearly having been concluded. Sans looked tense and unhappy, but at least he didn’t look like he was about to break something. Grillby on the other hand...nope, you didn’t have a clue. All you could tell was that he was keeping his distance away from big, bad and bony.

Sans searches the room and catches your eyes with his own glowing embers. His smile widens before curling his index finger and calling you over to him. It was a small mercy that he wasn’t whistling to you like a pet dog, but it still didn’t make you feel less filthy when you left your cleaning to walk over to him.
“Ya gonna’ spend the day here washing the dishes out back, pet.” He thumbs over his shoulder and back towards the door he had just exited from. Your eyes turn from him to look, but Sans quickly catches your chin and turns you back at him.
“Ya don’t leave the kitchen until I come and get ya. Capiche?”

“Yes.” You nod, or at least you nod as best you can with Sans still holding your face. Washing dishes? Okay, that had not been what you had expected, but at least if you were in the kitchen you should be away from any other monsters. At first it had seemed that Sans had wanted to keep you a secret. Now, it just looked like he didn’t like to share - a sentiment you were very grateful for.

“Good girl.” Sans lowers to press his forehead against your crown for a moment before moving his head to the side of yours. You can’t help but give a slight yelp as one of his hands takes a firm hold of the dangling belt of bones and pulls you tightly towards him. Your hands come up to brace yourself against his chest but you don’t try to pull back or push him away, you know it would only drive him to test you more. The cloth beneath your fingers is warm and thrums with some weird sort of magic as you try to keep your fingers from dipping in the spaces between his ribs. Your focus snaps away from your hands when you feel Sans’ breath tickling against your ear.
“Remember my warning sweetheart, ya mine.” The word is half growled and half purred, a dark combination that sets your heart beating hard against your chest. For a moment, your eyes flick over towards the burning purple man of fire. He is back leaning against the bar, arms crossed and head down slightly. It is hard to tell from the dancing flames that comprised his face, but you think you catch sight of his white hot eyes on the two of you.

When Sans finally lets go, you stumble a little after having been held at such an odd angle against him. He smiles before giving what can only be described as a death glare towards Grillby. The bar owner simply tilts his head to one side and moves his hands to tap one finger against the top of his wrist. Sans gives a grunt and turns to leave, though not before giving Sweetpea one last pat on the head.

Grillby must have given some sort of signal to one of the guys, the tall one, as the human leaves his broom to open the main door: a clear gesture that Sans had overstayed his oh-so-warm welcome. Sans gets the message, but takes his time leaving despite the open door drawing in gusts of cold air. Snowflakes melt before they have a chance to hit the wooden floor, but they would still leave a wet mess that would need to be mopped up.

Sans pauses for a moment as he stands in the door frame before turning to look at you one last time.
“Stay close to the water, sweetheart.” With those words the door closes, and you suddenly feel very alone. You don’t need to wonder what that last comment had meant. Sans had made it very clear already that he didn’t really want to leave you here with the other monster, but that only made you question just what was so important that he would risk it. Why not just leave you back at the house if he was only going to be a day?

You don’t realise you are still staring at the door with a lost and puzzled expression until you feel warmth at your side and the light around you changes to take on a deeper colour. You take half a step back and turn to face the monster, cautious now that you didn’t have Sans and his promise that you wouldn’t let you get hurt. There was something completely primal about looking into a roaring fire and witnessing all that power consuming everything within its grasp, and you were getting the same sort of feeling when you looked at Grillby.

“T..the kitchen’s that way, right?” You point towards the back door. Grillby gives a nod but continues to look at you, flames licking the air above him.
“I’ll just...get started then.” You side step away and back towards the bar, not wanting to turn your back towards the monster. Washing dishes sounded like a great idea right now. Actually, anything involving water sounded great.

You jump, eyes going wide as you feel a hand fall on each of your shoulders. Grillby continues to stand in front of you. You are not sure if it's just your imagination, but you are sure he looks particularly smug right now. You were being held between the two human guys, their faces blank and eyes dull. Fear clutches at your, it wasn’t just fear. Your soul had been pulled from its casing. Your eyes quickly move from it and then back towards Grillby who was now starting to approach you slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Desperately, you try to reach out and grab the flashing purple heart, but both of your arms are held tightly by those you would have normally called kin.

You can only watch in sick horror as a flaming hand hovers around the edges of your soul, the two sources of light flickering purple in a kaleidoscope of shades. You can feel the heat, like it is burning you from the inside out while the rest of you has frozen in dread. Forcing your eyes to tear themselves away from your soul, you look at the demonic being of ethereal fire, desperate to try and gauge his intent. A jagged, bright white fissure cuts its way across the lower half of the creature’s face before it speaks with its crackling mockery of a voice.
“How delightful.”

Chapter Text

This was bad. Fear keeps you pinned far better than either of the men at your shoulders can, and you can’t help but quickly glance towards the door in the hopes that Sans might appear and stop this. You don’t care if he was the cause of you being here in the first place, you just knew you were a lot safer with him right now then this purple inferno.

Trapped. Don’t move. Don’t fight. Don’t provoke. Fighting just makes things worse.

Your heart pounded hard in your chest as you watched Grillby’s hand ghost just a finger’s width away from your soul. He might not be physically touching the glowing heart, but the heat that rolled off his burning digits was still enough to stroke its edges and cause your body to sweat in an effort to cool down from a heat that came from every direction. White hot eyes flick between your face and your soul. His face was so alien with its twisting flames that somehow moulded themselves into the shape of a man; you could only guess what he might be thinking. The jagged white gap in the flames had to be a mouth and you can’t help but worry that he was about to eat your soul. Your mind returns to the werewolves and the orange soul. A shudder rips its way down your spine and is almost strong enough to send your legs buckling beneath you. You didn’t want to die, and your soul seemed to feel the same as it twisted and flashed in a swirl of panicked purple.

You are about ready to drop when the demon moves his hand away and pulls back. The cool rush of air from his sudden departure was welcoming and helped break your stupor. You manage to rip one arm free and quickly snatch your soul from the air to draw it back to your chest. Why Grillby had moved away, you don’t question, you just needed your soul.

After pulling yourself together and taking control of your fear-driven heart, you risk looking at the source of this nightmare. Grillby stands with his arms crossed watching, the lower half of his face no longer showing signs of a mouth, just smooth, flickering, purple flames. What the hell was he waiting for, and why did every monster want to rip out your soul and goggle at it? At least Sans had never threatened to burn it; in fact, he seemed reluctant to touch it physically, always controlling it with that blue glow thing he did. Your mind tried to steady itself as you wait for the burning man to hopefully decide he had better things to do. Pulling your shoulders a little, you find the humans quite content to continue holding you in place. Uncertainty twists in your guts. Okay, stay calm. Maybe your could talk your way out of this.

“Sans said you needed dishes washed?” You tried to keep your voice from wavering and even try to mimic the flat tone Sweetpea used. You had no idea what might set this walking bonfire of a man off, so it was best if you just tried to fit in with what he was used to and expected. More than anything, you wanted to remind Grillby that Sans would likely not want him doing… whatever it was he was doing. You felt disgusted with yourself in having to rely on such a tactic, on having to point out that someone else had say in how you could be treated, but if it meant you would be left alone then so be it.

You hear the crackle, like someone had tossed damp wood into a fire, and watch the blaze that made the top of Grillby’s head flare up. He was clearly expressing something, but you had no idea what. A sigh? A laugh? That he was pissed off and about to attack? Hell if you knew. He moved an arm to point at the door he and Sans had come out of.
“Kitchen.” His voice was still hard to make out, more crackles, roars and pops than any human-like sounds; you could imagine it would be pleasant to listen to if you ignored that it was trying to make words.

Moving his hand in a dismissive manner, Grillby flicked his wrist and seems to give an unspoken command. The guys holding you let go and return to cleaning as though they had never left the task. Had they responded to his hand signal, or something else? If it was the gesture then it completely debunked your theory that they were blind, but if it was something else you were really hoping it was limited. These monsters were scary enough as it were without adding mindcontrol to their resume. Maybe it was just something that had been done to them. Clearly whatever was wrong with Sweetpea seemed to be far more pronounced with the guys, and you were starting to think they were little more than shells at this point, puppets. On the subject of Sweetpea, you notice her moving away from the front door. It struck you as odd, but you decide it was better to get moving yourself rather than ponder what she had been doing. No need to give Grillby the impression that you wanted to spend any more time with him than necessary.

It takes all your willpower not to run on your way to the kitchen. You had no idea what was on the other side, but since the Human Torch's creepy cousin was on this side of the door, you knew it had to be better than staying here. With one palm held flat against the door in front to help keep you grounded, you glance back at the fire monster. He is still standing where you had left him, standing and watching while his ‘staff’ worked around him. Slipping into the kitchen, you are left with one clear fact: as scary as Sans looked, Grillby’s whole silent watching puppet master shtick was scarier.

You were not quite sure what to expect in a monster’s kitchen. Sans’ place was pretty normal, but you could hardly expect all the monsters to have homes like that. You were actually a little excited to see something new. Unfortunately it turns out to be rather bland. The floor and walls were still wooden, and though dull, it was a welcome change of texture to see the gray stone counter that ran along the right wall with plates and glasses stacked neatly. A long metal grill, reminiscent of what you had seen in fast food restaurants, ran along the opposite wall. It showed signs of being used, but was clearly very well cared for and clean. Finally, the sink sat at the far end of the room with some glasses and a few plates that looked ready and waiting to be cleaned. The only other noticeable feature was a second door set into the wall on your right.

Temptation tickles at your fingers as they flex and think about taking a peek. It could after all be a way out, but it was more likely to lead to the rest of the building. The kitchen was a fair size, but there was no way it even took up half the width the bar area did. You hold yourself back and choose to make your way over to the sink. Last time you made a snap decision on an escape plan, you had ended up drenched in pee and then made to strip in the snow. Not one of your best moments. You needed to stay smart. Until you knew that the door could help, you were better off playing the obedient human. Grillby clearly trusted the others enough not to try and escape, so maybe he would be less eagle-eyed around you than Sans was.

The sink was a fairly normal metal one, though there was only one tap. Testing it produces a stream of warm clear water. You can’t see any liquid soap but there is a bar that would clearly have to do. It doesn't have a smell, but it does sud up as you rub it. Getting on with the task at hand seemed like the best option right now as you plug up the drain. Glancing behind at the door while the sink fills, you can’t help but feel uneasy. What you wouldn’t give for just an hour or two where you could completely relax. There was not really anything you could do about the situation so you would just have to stay alert. Sans had hinted that staying near the water should keep you safe from Grillby, but you were pretty sure that did not include the fire monster’s zombie staff.

You grab a glass and a gray wash cloth that had been set aside to dry. It smelt clean at least, and there didn’t seem to be anything else to use. Getting to work with the tap still running, you wash the glass out before giving it a swill and then filling it up. Sans hadn't bothered to sort out anything for you to eat or drink this morning and you were not going to miss an opportunity to fully sate your thirst for a change. Warm water always tasted off. It was far better ice cold, or flavored and hot, but right now you didn't care and manage to drink down two full glasses before you felt satisfied. Giving a happy sigh you turn off the tap before washing the glass out one more time in the now half full sink and putting it on the rack to dry.

Looking at the pile of cutlery, crockery and glass, you grab another one of the glasses. It was better to leave the plates till last as any food left on them, which unfortunately for your pinching stomach appeared to be little more than stains and crumbs, would only dirty up the water. You had no idea how much hot water this place had so you would rather not use any more than you needed to.

Work however proves to be a little tricky with Sans’ t-shirt flapping around your body and getting in the way of the sink. The sleeves were thankfully short enough to keep out of the way, but you had to do something to stop the filthy material contaminating the water you were using. Tucking it into your shorts would be impossible. They were far too small and tight to fit anything else in them, and the bone belt was too thin to really be any use. Eventually you are left with bunching up the excess material and trying to knot it at your side. After a few attempts you manage to get the shirt under control. It looks… trashy, and you are exposing far more of your stomach than you are comfortable with, but at least you would not end up with it falling into the water every time you got close to the sink. The last thing you needed was to get soaked.

Washing up kept your hands busy but let your mind wander. How had everything lead up to this? You were washing dishes in a fire monster’s bar while your skeletal captor was out doing... whatever skeletal monsters did. It just didn’t make any sense. Maybe you had gone crazy. That was the most likely answer, right? That you were in some sort of mental ward drugged up to your eyeballs. Part of you wants to believe it could be true, but you know it’s not. Everything is just too real, hurt too much. So that meant monsters were real and they were living under a mountain and/or underground. You frown at the thought. How the hell had no one found out about this? Was everyone so busy looking up into the sky for aliens that they literally missed what was right under their noses? Maybe it was some sort of dimension thing, like Alice in Wonderland, that book had weird monsters in it didn’t it? Or maybe you were thinking of Monsters Inc.

The feeling of heat at your neck and the smell of something burning snaps your attention away from dimensions and insane asylums. You whip your head and body around, still clutching the wet cloth and sending a ribbon of water in an arc in front of you. Grillby quickly moves back to avoid the spray. He hisses. You are not sure if it is just a noise he makes or if some of the water reached him, but his reaction alone confirms what Sans had said. So long as you kept close to the sink, to water, you should be safe from the fire demon. Well, so long as he didn't sneak up behind you without your notice.

The three humans are standing behind him, but other than Sweetpea’s mild look of interest they don’t really react to what happened. Grillby, however, looks like he is on guard and ready to do something. His body, at least where it wasn't covered by clothes seemed to puff out with erent flames, like a cat’s fur when it’s scared. You can only assume he expects you to throw more water at him, but honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to antagonize him. You give a shaky apology but continue to hold the dripping cloth. He settles and his flames seem to smooth themselves out. You feel yourself able to breath a little easier when he straightens, then turns and leaves through the mysterious door without a second glance. You watch cautiously as the two guys follow closely behind him, each clutching cleaning equipment. Sweetpea, however, remains behind.

“Do you want to come eat?” The girl’s words are slow and uncertain. You shake your head and decline. Right now you think you were better off following Sans’ advice. Hopefully he would bring back food when he collected you.

“Sir is a good person. He makes… he makes things better. Feel better. Feel safe.” Sweetpea was clearly trying to help but it only made you want to take such an innocent and caring person away from these monsters that had clearly put her through so much. Did they have to suffer the same abuse you did with Sans? You move away from the sink and gently place a hand on her shoulder. She looks up at you and smiles, but it's like a doll looking at you, it's just so empty.

“What… what is Grillby, what is Sir like?” You try to keep your words simple. Sweetpea frowns with her mouth slightly open as she thinks. Her eyes dart from side to side as she searches for the word.

“Sir likes… burning.” Well that was rather vague.

“Burning what?” At your question, Sweetpea reaches up behind your head. Your own hand leaves her shoulder and follows it, unsure of what she was doing.

“Everything.” She says, her fingers ghosting through the hair before turning away and leaving through the other door.

Your fingers retrace where she had touched and find a section of hair far shorter than the rest. You can still smell the acrid smoke hanging in a cloud around you. At least now you understood why all the humans here had such short hair. ‘Everything’. That's what she’d said, not ‘hair’, ‘everything’. Something clicks. Your mouth goes dry as fear grips at your stomach. Desperately you try to stop the dots your brain had just connected from forming an image. The image of Sweetpea, of the other two humans, and how the clothes they wore cloaked so much of their skin. For once, you don’t feel ashamed for wishing Sans was here right now.

Chapter Text

As soon as the door closed, you drop the washcloth in the water and tug at the knot on the t-shirt. Your hands are shaking as your fingers fumble at the cloth. Eventually the material falls and covers your skin. What the fuck was wrong with these people! How could anyone do that sort of thing? No. No, you must have jumped to the wrong conclusion. That had to be it, right? If Grillby was… hurting Sweetpea, and the two guys, then they would never be acting so placid around him. Okay, maybe the lads would, but Sweetpea? Hadn't she said what a good person the fire demon was? Could she be so twisted and broken that no matter what he did to her, she only saw him as good? Did… did Sans know? It was a little hard to tell but you were sure Mr. Bony showed at least some sort of affection towards the young girl. No, no, you were just jumping to conclusions, making assumptions. Next time you saw Sweetpea you would ask what she meant by that remark.

There was still no way you were going to tie the T-shirt up again. You don’t care that it smelt worse when it got wet.

Trying to keep your mind off things, you turn back to the sink. You were almost done with the washing up, which might not be a good thing. Staying near the sink was likely the only way you would leave this place in one piece. Or, well, at least with most of your hair intact. Your hand reaches back up to feel the frazzled texture of the burnt section. You hoped it wouldn’t be noticeable. You had been doing considerably well at keeping all of your limbs and body parts intact since ending up in this hell hole. Gradually, your feelings turn spiteful. You didn’t need to hide this. In fact, you wanted it to be noticeable. You wanted Sans to see what that burning bastard had done to you, and hopefully get a little satisfaction of Sans kicking his ass, or at least chewing him out.

Would he, though? Would he care? It wasn’t that you cared if he cared about you. You just wanted to see Grillby suffer. Regardless, you had already decided you were going to tell Sans about Sweetpea. Even he had to have enough of a conscious that he couldn’t leave the humans here with that smoldering sadist.

You can feel yourself getting angry and know it was a dangerous road to travel around these monsters; at least, for anyone who wanted to stay alive. After all, what were you going to do? Yell at him? You could probably throw water at Grillby, but you would have to kill him in the process if you wanted to survive that endeavor. Maybe if you had a hose. You smile at the thought of hoseing the demon down, watching him turn into a black soggy mass. Grabbing one of the clean glasses, you pour yourself another drink and try to calm down so you didn’t do something stupid.

A scream causes the glass to slip from your hands and shatter on the floor, drenching your feet in water and shards of glass. Your mind only mildly registers the danger to your bare feet as you quickly make your way to the other door. That had been Sweetpea. It had to have been. What was that monster doing to her in there!? You hesitate at the door despite wanting to wrench it open. Maybe you should grab a weapon first? You could get a glass of water.

The handle begins to turn slowly of its own volition. Your eyes go wide as anger is quickly replaced with panic. Grillby must have heard the glass shatter. The floor was a mess of water and glass, going back to the sink now would likely shred the soles of your feet… but when faced with being burnt alive, it was not that much of a risk. Before you can take a step your brain comes to the rescue with a reminder that there were other doors, namely the door you had entered the kitchen with.

You managed to make it to the other door before Grillby came in, but gave a panicked cry when you realised it was locked. You tried to both pull and push on the door in the hope that it would somehow magically open, but like everything else in this damn place it refused to help you. Turning around to try and find somewhere to hide, you watch as the other door opens. Not to Grillby, but to Sweetpea. She nervously pokes her head around the door and looks for what you can only assume was the source of the noise.

You don’t hesitate to pull the girl from the door and hug her, her lightness adding more worry for her wellbeing.
“Are you okay? I heard a scream. Oh god, did he hurt you?” Sweetpea seemed to be lost and confused as you fussed around her. You pull back to look her over, noticing her waist coat was gone and her shirt was partly open. Your eyes go wide when you see a flash of red beneath. Disregarding all sense of personal space, you tug at the white shirt. The sight causes your breath to stutter as tears try and blind you from the sight.

Her skin, which was pale and near flawless around her face and hands, didn’t look like skin at all. Varying shades of pinks and reds, some areas looking more like plastic than flesh. The worst of it was how the burns seemed to be layered on top of one another, feathered like flames, and all of it scarred into her skin.
"What has he done to you?" Sweetpea pulls away and tightly closes her shirt, her arms remaining across her chest. She couldn't even look at you.
"Don't. Don't worry. Look, when Sans gets here, we can tell him, we can show him what that monster has been doing to you." Sweetpea looks up with a fearful expression, her head shaking from side to side.

"It's okay. Sans is an asshole but he's not... he is not a sadistic-" The rest of the words freeze on your tongue. Grillby stood in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning on the doorframe. He looked like he was patiently waiting for you to continue. Feeling Sweetpea try to move back to her so-called boss, you grab her shoulders and move her behind you; she offered little resistance. Since getting trapped here you had been unable to help yourself or stop the things that were done to you, but the day you just stood aside when one of these monsters tried to hurt anyone so innocent and helpless was the day you lost your humanity.

"I won't let you. I won't let you hurt her anymore!" You try to make sense of the sounds Grillby makes until you realise that he wasn't trying to say words, his crackling and roaring was laughter. Your jaw clenches in frustration. Why did these monsters always make you feel like a child throwing a temper tantrum?
"There is nothing funny about this!" Grillby tilts his head to one side and gives a sigh.

"You burn bright." His words are slow and deliberate, though you are not sure it it is for your benefit or if he simply finds it hard to speak. His gaze passes over you before he looks at the mess of water and glass on the floor, his flames crackling and popping as he moves to one side. With the entrance way now partially cleared, the other two humans walk through, making their way over to the sink to begin cleaning up.
"Sans owes me one glass."

"It was an accident. I heard the scream and it slipped." You feel a moment of guilt about the smashed glass. You really hoped Sans would not be too mad about the cost. The fire monster raises one hand, gesturing you to stop. He clearly didn't care what excuses you had to say. His eyes flicker and look behind you as Sweetpea pulls away. You try to hold on to her, to encourage her to stay, but she just smiles and makes her way to Grillby's side, arms falling away from her chest. Gently, the demon strokes her head before leaning down to kiss it, his white hot eyes never leaving yours in the act.

"Why are you here?" His attention turns back to Sweetpea as he says those words, his hand cupping her chin and lifting it slightly. Her smile never leaves her lips as she gazes up at the flaming fiend.

"To help Sans. We owe him our lives, but he can't look after us anymore." Sweetpea sounded a little sad. Honestly, after only spending a couple of hours here you could understand why. Not that you would tell him that.

"And when Sans owes me," Grillby's eyes back turn to you, the lower portion of his face cracking open into a thin white scar of a smile.

"We pay it back." With those words, Sweetpea turns her back to Grillby and pulls her shirt down to her waist slowly. You grimace at the sight of her scarred back. Each burn rendered so that it would stand out against the others. The scars twist around her shoulders and arms, each one a petal of heat and flame. The odd, stiff movements each of these humans adopted now took on a whole new light.

Grillby lifted one hand to his face, his mouth splitting open to reveal a molten core within. He drags a finger along the oozing blue/white surface before slowly bringing the smoldering finger towards Sweetpea's back.

"NO!" Realisation as to just how Grillby was going to take his payment hits you. He was going to burn her, right in front of you, for YOUR mistake. You had dropped the glass, and now Sweetpea was going to suffer for it.
"I'll pay for the glass. Please." He stopped. You knew he would. You knew he was doing all of this just so that he could earn the chance to burn you, but you couldn't just let him hurt someone else because of what you had done. You had already watched one person sacrifice themselves to these monsters. You knew that the other humans were likely locked away in tiny cells awaiting experiments. You couldn't just stand by anymore. You take a step towards Grillby. He, in turn, moves away from Sweetpea.

You realise you’re shaking as the fire monster approaches. You don’t want to be. You want to be strong. You want to face what was about to happen with dignity. Your body, however, wants to fall to the floor sobbing. You flinch as Grillby takes your hand, holding it in much the same manner as he did when you had attempted to greet him in the bar. However, this time you didn't have Sans to get him to back off.

With one hand holding yours, Grillby slowly moves his other to ghost just above the exposed skin of your arm. You tense, expecting him to burn you at any moment, but he seems content to extend your state of panic for as long as he can. You can feel the heat pricking at your skin. It hurts, and he hasn't even touched you yet. When you feel like you can't take anymore and want to shout at him to just get it over with, Grillby drags a single scolding finger along the top of your wrist.

You scream, try to pull away, even before the pain registers. It wasn't hot, or cold, it was just pain. The act barely lasts two seconds before your tormentor lets go of you and you’re able to pull away and back up against the metal grill on the opposite side of the room. Clutching your arm to your chest, you watch as the guys move away from the sink and back to Grillby, their task now complete. The floor looks clear of any glass or water, but right now you don't worry too much about your feet as you rush to get your burnt flesh under the tap.

The water is still warm, not icy cold like you would like, but it was enough to help dull the pain slightly. For a brief moment you contemplate grabbing a glass of water to throw at Grillby, but with the pain of what one finger could do (and the fact that he had no issues with burning Sweetpea for your actions), you hold back.

As you douse your skin you turn round to avoid leaving your back exposed. Grillby ushers the two guys back into the other room, one arm braced against the door.
“You should take more care around the grill.” He motions towards the cooking area before leaving. The door closing behind him slowly. Sweetpea, however, remains behind.

A sigh leaves you as your body feels like it has lost all strength. So much for being strong. Still, Sweetpea was safe, for now. She makes her way over to you, her face a picture of concern. You had to give her hope.
“Don’t worry. Sans will be here to pick me up in a few hours and… I don’t care what I have to do, I will make him bring you with us.”

“No. You don’t see.” She shakes her head again. Her hands clutching at the baggy red t-shirt you wore.
“You can’t tell Sans. This is all we have left. Sans can’t keep us. I don’t want to die.” Her last words are spoken as a whisper but they held more emotion than you had heard her express since meeting her. Would Sans really kill her if she couldn't stay with Grillby? Okay sure, he was using them as indebted slaves, but... he had to care right? You want to believe he would but, Sans had said something similar to you. That if you ever wanted to leave he would let you, but that it would be by his hand. Painless, he had said. Maybe that was as far as his compassion went.

“Oh sweetie.” Your arm moves away from the tap as you hug the girl to your chest. Her back was getting wet from your dripping appendage, and the burn was starting to hurt with every second it was out of the water, but you both needed to hold something solid for a moment, something human. Something safe.
"Okay. If you don't want me to tell Sans I won't, but..." You wanted to ask her if this life was really worth living. That maybe death was a better option, but that wasn't your choice to make.

The hug lasts maybe a minute before the sting of the burn gets too much and you move it back under the tap. It didn’t look too bad but you were pretty sure it would blister. What you can’t understand is why Grillby would burn you in such a visible place. Did he want to piss off Sans? Grillby’s last words had been warning you about the grill. Realising that your burn was nothing like the flourishes you had seen on Sweetpea, that it just looked like a generic burn you could get from anywhere… like a hot stove or grill. So Grillby was leaving it up to you whether you told Sans about what he had done. Why? Was he really not worried about Sans' reaction? Or was he so sure that you wouldn’t tell Sans?

Sweetpea gives you one last smile before turning away. Your heart calls out for her to stay with you, stay where Grillby couldn’t touch her, but she clearly felt resigned to her fate. You had no idea how to help her. You were not even sure if you could help her. You certainly couldn’t help yourself.

You look back at the burn. How straight and clean it was. Would Sans believe you if you said Grillby burnt you? You had a good feeling that the answer would be yes. He clearly only trusted the flaming freak so far. But, you couldn’t just say he burnt you could you? What if he started asking questions. Maybe Grillby would say you tried to escape? No, no that wouldn’t work, he could clearly control the temperature of his body, and this burn was nothing like a burn one would get from a hand or a glancing blow. It was precise. It was controlled… It was consented.

Damn it! Panic starts to rise. You realise there was no way Sans would believe you didn't ask for this. Of course you could tell him why you let Grillby burn you but it would put Sweetpea in jeopardy. Maybe… maybe Sans wouldn’t mind. Maybe you could say you were curious what it felt like. No, that would be even worse. Sans would be sure to use that against you. You remember how his hand had tightened in your hair and his phalanges had clawed down your back when he had asked if you liked pain. You couldn’t let Sans know about this, not if you wanted to carry on living without suffering through more burns.

So? Lie? Grillby had already given you the story, you caught yourself on the edge of the hot grill. It was believable. The burn looked the part. It would work. You still felt sick to your stomach at how easily that flaming fucker had orchestrated this.

You are not sure how much time passes before the far door opens again. There had been no more screams and no more breakages. The washing up has been dry for a long time now and you had already stacked everything in its proper places. Unfortunately, a quick search through the drawers don’t yield anything you might be able to use as a weapon, not even a butter knife. You spend a few minutes debating if it was worth trying to smuggle a fork before deciding that not only would you have nowhere to hide it (nowhere comfortable that is), but it would likely do jack shit to either Sans or Grillby.

You make sure you have a cup of water next to you when the door opens, but Grillby barely gives you a passing glance as he leads his ‘staff’ out of the bar door. You guessed it was time for the bar to open now, and while part of you wanted to peek around the door to see just what sort of monsters there were you knew it would be a stupid risk. Your wrist still hurts and you make sure to keep running it under the tap to try and alleviate some of the pain and keep it clean. You could see it was starting to blister, but it didn’t look like it would be too bad.

Sounds start to filter through to the kitchen. Music. Laughing. On occasion, shouting. Grillby is in and out of the kitchen quite often to use the grill and fryer for food. The smell of the burgers and fries is maddening as your stomach painfully reminds you that you have had nothing to eat all day. If Sans didn’t bring anything back for you when he picks you up, then he was going to have to suffer somehow. You were not exactly sure on the details yet, but you would make it happen.

Grillby makes sure to keep away from the sink, and therefore you. The only time you risked moving away, and one of the few times you talk to him, is to ask where you could relive yourself, all of that water you had been drinking was finally catching up to you. Sweetpea was brought back to the kitchen so she can lead you into the other room. It’s dark, and you don’t see much but she pulls you carefully to a small wash room with a sink and hole in the ground style toilet. It's not pleasant, but it’s better than a bucket.

You don’t see Sweetpea after your toilet trip but you do see the two lads as they bring in empty plates and glasses for you to wash. You would have taken the chance to drink the dregs of whatever these monsters were enjoying just to try and dull the boredom, but every glass comes back empty. In desperation you to talk to the guys but get little more than a blank stare for your efforts.

At one point Grillby crackles to get your attention before presenting you with a burger. Thankfully you had enough self control to not dive for the steaming tower of deliciousness, despite your stomach biting down painfully, instead you politely ask him if it was free. He smiles and shakes his head. You decline.

Finally, after more hours than you want to guess, the door to the bar opens to reveal the last person your whold have ever thought to be relived to see, Sans. Your legs feel like jelly after having to stand for so long, and your feet have gone numb for the same reason, but it was finally over. Sans’ smelly, stained sofa was starting to look like heaven and you were not in any way ashamed to admit that. He was a creep, a manipulative piece of crap and needed to learn what the word ‘no’ means but… when compared to how others had to live Sans was..., well, it's not like you were going to give up your plan to escape or anything. You could just, sort of, maybe, appreciate it just a little bit more.

He stands there, with his hands in his pockets looking you up and down, likely checking that you’re not charred. Your mind goes to your wrist and you can't help but look away in order to avoid his eyes. You could still tell him the truth. You could still tell him about Sweetpea… but there were too many ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’. It was easier just to stick to the lie. Finally you let your eyes meet his.

“Ya ready to go home pet?”

Chapter Text

“Ya ready to go home pet?”

Sans. You don’t bristle at him calling you ‘pet’. You don’t care. You were too hungry. Too tired, both mentally and physically. Not willing to trust your voice you simply nod, ducking your head down as you walk over to him and keeping your arms at your sides. If you were not so concerned about him seeing your wrist you are pretty sure you would have hugged him in relief. You just wanted to go his home. It was still a cage, but if you had to pick a demon to be locked away with, you would take Sans over Grillby anyday.

“Ya been a good girl while I’ve been away?” Again you nod, but Sans seems to pick up your subdued nature. He crouches down slightly and hooks his phalanges around your chin, his thumb pinching at the top, to bring your head up to look at him. Should you smile? Or maybe pull away? Shit, what were you supposed to do? You just wanted to get something to eat and then sleep for maybe a week, but Sans could clearly tell something was up. His eye sockets narrow with a strange fluidity that just looked wrong on the bone structure of his face, no matter how often you saw it happen.

You had to speak, you had to say something.
“I’m just… tired and, um, hungry.” His expression relaxes somewhat at your mundane response but he is still searching your face.
“And I…” You pause, unsure if you should tell Sans about the burn. You could let him find out on his own, then brush it off as a simple accident you’d forgotten about. Something that wasn’t important and didn’t mean anything. Except you couldn’t forget about it. It still stung even now and was already starting to blister and weep. What would be less suspicious? He was still waiting for you to carry on. You move your hurt hand away from your side and present it to him.
“I burnt my wrist on the grill.”

Releasing your chin, his eyes move from your face down to your arm. A bony hand comes up to cradle your wrist, phalanges digging in just a little too tightly around the undamaged edges.
“The grill?” He did not sound convinced, at all, and you were starting to regret telling him right away. Maybe if you had waited till you had gotten back to his place… well, it was too late now. You just had to roll with the lie.

“I didn’t realise it was still hot.” That's it, you just had to believe in the lie yourself.
“My wrist brushed against it when I was putting away the plates.” You wince but offer no resistance when Sans moves your arm to take a better look at the damage. Just having the skin move slightly made it burn with pain, even for such a little mark. How Sweetpea and the others were able to survive all of their burns, you don’t think you’d ever be able to understand. Hopefully their numbness to the world also extended to their skin. Your own was sensitive enough to even feel Sans’ breath brush lightly against the damage.
“It, hurts.” You wanted to make sure big bad and bony understood that little fact before he went and prodded and poked at the burn. It seemed likely he had never seen what skin was like in this condition; he was a skeleton after all. You could only hope he would take pity on you and help bandage your wrist to keep it from getting infected, even if it was just to keep you in working condition. You hadn't bothered to ask Grillby for help. While he was likely adept at dealing with burns, you were betting that any help would cost something, or someone.

“Don’t worry pet. Once we get back, I’ll make it all better.” Sans ran his free hand through your hair, his bones grazing the skin beneath, till they skirted along the back of your neck. You had a pretty good feeling that he was talking about more than just your burn and you grit your teeth to avoid saying anything. Still, at least he lets go of your arm. You cradle it to your chest to avoid it bumping into anything, or it getting grabbed again. With his arm braced against your back, his hand continues to rest along the groove where your neck meets your shoulder, thumb tracing delicate circles along your spine while his phalanges rested on top of your collarbone. You could pull away, the touch was so light it was barely there, but what would be the point? He would just grab you and hold tighter to prove a point.

The light touch guides you through the kitchen door and back out into the bar. You quickly register Grillby. It was a little hard not to see someone who was made out of purple flames. He stood behind the bar cleaning glasses, though from the steam that was coming off, you could assume it was closer to heat sterilization than simply wiping them down. Sans thankfully stands between you and the demon. ‘Better the devil you know’ was never a truer statement.

“So, Grillbz. Seems my pet had a little accident in the kitchen.” You were hoping Sans didn’t feel how you tensed when he started talking. You try to stay calm. Maybe it would have been better to tell the truth? You try to read Grillby, try to work out if he was going to admit to what he had done, thus proving you a liar and maybe putting Sweetpea at risk.

Grillby however seemed to be as cool as ice, a surprisingly easy feat for someone who was on fire.

“Was hoping ya would give us a drop of that balm ya got.” Balm? Like cream? You feel yourself able to breathe. Sans was just asking for something to help your burn, that's all. Everything was fine. He believed you. You just had to push the whole thing out of your mind. You had an accident and burnt your wrist on the grill. It could happen to anyone. It happened to people all the time. Simple. Safe.

Sans ignored you other than the soft stroking on the back of your neck. Grillby meanwhile settles the glass onto the counter with barely a clink before reaching down under the bar. He pulls out a small metal container and starts unscrewing it before offering its contents to Sans. Bony fingers reach across to scoop a little of the transparent blue gel, but before they could even dip into the cream, the container is moved away. Grillby offers his open palm instead.

“Come on Grillbz. She worked all day without a fuss, right? I think she’s earned enough to pay for this.” You feel yourself settling a little deeper into the crook of Sans’ arm. You felt happy that Sans was acknowledging the work you had done, even more so than the fact he was getting something to help your burn.

Grillby gives a crackle before moving the metal jar back into Sans’ reach. Two phalanges dip into the gel before bringing them out and turning you. Grillby is already screwing the top back on as you offer your arm for Sans to treat. You flinch back at his touch. The gel felt really cold, but the burn hurt enough that you would try anything at the moment to soothe it, so you try to hold still. Sans was careful at applying the balm. He was capable of being so gentle when he wanted that it barely surprised you anymore. Thankfully, the gel quickly warmed up to a bearable temperature. It stung a little still but it was more like the feeling you get when you stick a finger in a cold can of soda.

With your burn taken care of, you watch with surprise as Sans peels the rest of the gel from his bones like he was removing a glove. You move your wrist slightly and give the edges of the balm a poke, it felt rubbery but solid.

“Ya good?” You nod and smile as you pull your arm against your chest again. You were not sure what you were feeling at the moment. Content, maybe? No, you were still hungry, tired and worn down from being stuck in this world of monsters. Maybe, secure, that seemed like a better word for it. You at least knew what to expect with Sans.
“I’ll see ya later Grillbz.”

You look around and catch sight of Sweetpea and the other two humans back to cleaning tables, just like they were when you first arrived. You frown. Did that mean the bar opened twice a day? You were certain you had not spent a whole day here. Why were there never any clocks? Time seemed to be nearly impossible to track in this place and it was starting to both worry and annoy you. How long had you been trapped down here? You had slept...twice? So that meant that this was the third day? How was it only three days? You felt like it had to have been at least a week with everything you had gone through, but three days?

Sans leads you towards the exit, the door that would finally end at least one part of your nightmare, but you find yourself pulling back. You wanted to leave, to get as far away from Grillby as you could, but you didn’t want to leave Sweetpea here. Sans however took your apprehension slightly differently.
“Ya getting cold feet? Heh, won’t be outside long pet, just keep moving.” You had forgotten about how cold the walk here had been, this was really going to suck but Sans was right that it had been a short walk.

“Sans can…” He doesn't look at you directly but you can see Sans’ strange glowing pupils focus on you from the side.
“Can Sweetpea come with us?” He stops and looks at you directly, a quizzical expression plastered on his skull.

“Aww, already trying to spice up our relationship? Ain't I enough for you sweetheart?” Sans’ tone and creeping smile left no doubt as to what he was alluding to. That was definitely NOT the way you wanted this conversation to go.

“NO nono, that's not what I meant. It’s just…” You try to explain, but Sans was clearly not in the mood. His eyes seem to flash brighter as his hand slid from your shoulder to rest more snugly at the back of your neck. You hated it when he held you like this, but it certainly got the message across and you shut up.

“Pet, I’ve got enough to deal with. If Grillby don’t want her anymore then he can deal with it himself.” Sans doesn't wait to see if you answer him back and continues out the door with you held securely by your neck at his side. So that was it, then? Those were the only two options Sweetpea had? Living a life of servitude and getting burned for the sick pleasure of a demon, or death. Honestly… you don’t know if you could face either choice. Then again, while you might have a better ‘standard of living’, it was still technically the same.

Any words you might have said in protest or defence were left frozen in your throat the moment you step out of the door. The cold hits you hard, ripping away all heat from your body. Your bare feet are instantly reduced to blocks of ice as soon as you take your second step. It's nearly impossible to focus on anything but the cold biting at your bare legs and feet. Your arms and face were not faring much better either. Sans leads the way and sets a fast pace. You do your best to keep in time with him.

Your cage awaited you, but at least it was a warm cage.

Entering the house finally let you take a full breath. The warm air is a blessing to your frost bitten lungs and heart, while your toes curl into the carpet beneath. Sure, you had suffered the cold in less clothes than you wore now and survived, but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts were not much of a step up.

As Sans finally lets go of your neck, you feel it safe enough to move a little by yourself and start to rub your arms back to life. It takes you a moment to notice there was something different to the living room. It looked the same but there was a different smell. A good smell. A fresh food smell. Your legs stiffly move by themselves towards the kitchen. You could smell tomato and herbs. It smelt like nirvana. Like heaven. Like-

“Where d’ya think ya going pet?”

You stop mid step, arms and shoulders sagging in defeat.
“Sans, I’ve not eaten all day. I’m just hungry. Can I please have some food?”

“So, Grillby didn’t feed ya?”

You shake your head.
“No. He-he offered but I didn’t want… you said not to leave the sink.” Knowing what you knew now, you wonder what would have happened if you had gone into that back room with the others to eat. Would he have fed you? Would you have had to watch how he treated the other humans? It didn’t matter now anyway. You had done what Sans had asked by staying near the sink. He couldn’t fault you for that… could he?

“Aww, such a good pet.” Sans steps closer and wraps his arms around your chest. You tense but don’t try to escape the grip. The warmth spreading from him along your back is actually quite welcome. His head dips down above yours and nuzzles into your hair.
“Too bad I can’t believe anything a filthy liar says.” The soft embrace suddenly becomes tight. You feel panic start to rise.

“Sans. Please. I’m telling the truth. I haven't eaten a thing all day. Even the plates were empty of scraps. Please. Sans, you’re hurting me.” You can’t help but try to struggle, to try and escape his iron-like grip.

“I ain’t talking about the food. I’m talking about that burn.” You still. He knew.
“Let’s try this again shall we. How did you get that burn?”

Tears prick at your eyes as your emotions fought for control. Fear, guilt, anger, frustration, hate. To think you had actually felt relieved, grateful even, when you had seen Sans.

“I’m waiting pet,” his words and voice are more of a growl now, all hints of gentleness washed away.

“Grillby.” One word, but it had taken so much to say it.

“Grillby what?”

“Grillby, burnt me.” There is a pause, and while you don’t hear anything, you can feel Sans rumble. You would call it a purr but it felt more like a silent growl, like his bones were shaking in anger or hate. It only lasts a moment but it’s long enough to set the hairs on the back of your neck on end and your guts tighten themselves in a knot.

“And why did he burn you?” It was clear that Sans would not be satisfied until he had the whole story. Maybe if you just cut out the part about Sweetpea.

“I dropped a glass on the floor. It was an accident. It-it broke. He said it had to be paid for and… Please Sans, I’m telling the truth.”

Time stretched on endlessly as you wait for Sans to either believe you or to try to get more. Maybe you could tell him everything? Maybe Sans wouldn’t care what was happening to Sweetpea and the others? Could he be that indifferent to their suffering? That thought alone was almost worse than him wanting to kill her to save her from the abuse. You couldn’t risk it. You didn’t know if it really was better for Sweetpea to suffer this sort of a life, but it was the only thing she had any sort of choice over. You had no right to make that decision for her and take the last of her freedoms.

Finally you feel his hold loosen to that of a gentle embrace.
“Alright pet. I believe ya.” His head moves from its position on top of yours and tucks itself on your shoulder. Hot breath brushes against your ear as one hand trails up the middle of your chest and through the valley of your breasts.
“But I need ya to remember something very important, okay?” His words are a whisper and yet they are strong enough to try and steal away your bones.

You nod, quietly answering yes.

His bony hand trails further up your chest before tracing along the crest of your clavicle. The touch is muted due to the t-shirt, but his phalanges softly pull the material along with them, causing the clothing to ripple and stroke against your skin as it falls back into place. His hand creeps up to your neck.

“Ya never to lie to me again. Ever.” You feel bones tighten around your neck as the last word is growled out. You can’t move. You-you can barely breathe. Your hands come up in panic to try and pull the hand away, but his grip only tightens. A cold sweat blankets itself over your body as your blood feels like it is bubbling in your head, your vision starting to constrict and tunnel. Finally you drop your hands and Sans loosens his hold. Air rushes in as your heart desperately tries to get the newly oxygenated blood to where it is needed.

“Go. Sit.” When he lets go, you are barely able to stand, let alone walk, so it takes a moment before you are able to make it over to the sofa. Shaking, you perch on the edge of the seat, as far away from Sans’ usual spot as you can. You can’t relax, your body felt like it was about to break itself in two with how tightly wound it was. Gingerly, you touch the bruising area around your neck. You were sure the bruises around the back of your neck were still there so when this set came through you were going to look even more of a mess. Not that it mattered what you looked like.

You glance over to the kitchen where Sans had disappeared. You couldn't see him but you could hear him. A shiver passes down your spine. It was one thing to know someone had the strength and inclination to kill you, it was quite another to feel it first hand. You felt sick. All you could do now is hope that Sans was satisfied with this lesson, and make sure you didn’t need to go through any more. Your eyes catch sight of the blue strip covering the burn on your wrist. Not so different after all really.

When Sans finally came back, you would have happily ignored him. The problem was that he was accompanied with a large plate of steaming spaghetti coated in what looked like a rich tomato sauce. The smell alone was enough to start your mouth watering, while your stomach feels like it might try and and rip its way out of your body and devour the plate by itself.

Gripping onto the armrest, you try to control yourself. It had only been a day. People could go weeks without food, and it was not like you were malnourished. But that was part of the problem. You might have eaten every day but it had never been a fraction of what you were used to eating. So while it was true that your body might be able to survive on very little to eat, it did not mean it was going to be happy about it. So right now your hunger was engaging in a full on mutiny with your self control.

Sans ignores you. You didn’t like it. It wasn’t that you wanted him to pay attention to you, you had suffered enough ‘attention’ from him to last a lifetime. It was just that he was holding the plate of food. A plate of food he didn’t seem to be in a rush to give you. Maybe he wanted you to beg for it? That seemed about right for him. Fine, you would beg. It was not like you had much dignity left anyway. Besides, it was just words. You didn’t need to mean them, you just had to satisfy this creep. Just hollow, empty words. But you knew they would still leave a bitter taste in your mouth. Ask first, beg later… maybe. God, that food smelt good.

“Sans. Can I have some food? Please?” You watch with baited breath as his bony hand picks up the fork, twisting a few strands of the pasta around the utensil and coating the pale threads in the sauce. You are sure you are about to starve with how long he is taking, barely realising you are gripping at the sofa cushions to stop yourself from jumping on the plate. As the fork lifts, sauce slides and drips from a few dangling strands to splash on the food below. The pasta, glistening in a glaze of juice and herbs, fights to escape the fork, one short length breaking free to slide down a brethren to reach a freedom that would surely not last long. You swallow and lick your lips at the display, desperate to know if the pasta tasted as good as it smelt and looked. You slide further up the sofa so you're sitting next to Sans. The food so close, so warm. Sweet and salty and almost within your grasp.

But the fork doesn't make its way to you. Instead, Sans brings it towards his own face. His teeth open to take the food that you could almost taste yourself. A short, pitiful whine is heard and it takes you a moment to realise that you were its origin.

“Can’t have ya making a mess now, can we? Clothes. Off.” Smug, fucking, bastard. You grit your teeth. Fine. It was not like you weren't used to being nude around him anyway. He would probably just rip the clothes off if you refused and then you would be back to square one, and still hungry. You hands reach down to tug the t-shirt up and over your head, but Sans had other ideas.

“Oh no pet. I want ya to stand over there, by the T.V., and strip. Slowly.” The way he rolled that last word around his tongue told you all you needed to know. He still wasn’t done teaching you this lesson. Or maybe this was a different lesson. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. It was better to get this over and done so you could just add this to the list of things you needed to forget when you got out of this hell hole… If you got out of this hell hole. Nope. You couldn’t start thinking about that. You had to stay confident and strong. With one final grit of your teeth, you get up and make your way over to the T.V.

Sans meanwhile leans back on the sofa and gets comfy, his feet up on the table and the plate of spaghetti now balanced on his gut as he helps himself to another forkfull. The fucker seemed to think this was dinner and a show.

Swallowing your pride, you reach down and grasp the hem of the baggy red t-shirt. High fashion this was not, but Sans seemed to be more than happy to watch as you slowly lift his stinking clothes off to reveal more of your skin. His smile cocked to one side and his eye sockets were half closed. You stop for a moment before you lift the material completely over your breasts, allowing just the skin below your nipples to be seen. Sans vocalizes something halfway between a growl and a sigh, a sound that sends a ripple up your spine and a spark in your gut. It was animalistic, primal. You couldn’t stand the creep, but it didn’t stop your body from reacting to something so predatory. We all want to be wanted, and right now, Sans was looking at you like he was eyeing up dessert.

As your top finally slips over your head, you hold it and out let it fall to the floor. You might have gotten used to the smell as you wore it, but that still didn’t stop it from stinking. It was almost a relief not to have it wrapped around you. The shorts, however, you were more reluctant to take off. You let your thumbs slip between the waistband and your hips, sliding along the rim before moving to the belt of bones.

“Come here sweetheart. Let me help ya with that.” You freeze in your actions as you watch Sans place the still full plate of food on the table his feet had previously been resting on. He moves the furniture to the side so that there was no barrier between him and you. It made you feel vulnerable, which was ridiculous considering your situation.

You can’t stand the look of Sans' smug face as you walk the few steps over to him, focusing instead on his chest. Thankfully he doesn't seem to mind, or, more likely, he was focused on other things than your face. When you get close enough, Sans hooks one of his phalanges into your belt and pulls you a little closer. You stumble, but manage to keep your balance.

Your belt snaps open under Sans’ care before he slowly pulls on one end. The demon looked like he was unwrapping a christmas present with the way he was enjoying this. Too bad you couldn’t dish out the coal he’d surely earned. It was probably enough to bury him for good. Sans took care to wind the length of bones around his hand. Both sets of bones were near identical to look at, which made you a little worried as to where he had gotten those bones from.

“Well, go on.” Sans clearly wanted you to finish off the undressing yourself, something you were more than happy about. Taking a few steps back so you're no longer within his reach, you move your hands to the last scrap of material you had. It barely slides down an inch before Sans interrupts again.

“Turn around sweetheart. I gotta assess ya ain’t got burns anywhere else.” You cringe at the pun but do as he asks before continuing to slowly slip the shorts off. You would have thought it easier to do this without witnessing Sans watching you, but it just proves to be more nerve-racking not knowing where he is at all times. Your eyes catch sight of his reflection in the T.V., glowing red tongue clearly visible and snaking its way over his teeth. When you finally step out of the shorts, you continue to stand with your back to Sans, but make sure to keep watch on his reflection.

“Now can I eat, Sans?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Ya see pet, the problem with lying is that loss of trust and I just ain’t sure Grillby didn’t feed ya. Maybe ya can prove it to me.” How could you possibly prove that you hadn't eaten all day? Turning around to face Sans, you are given your answer.
“Prove to me just how hungry ya are.”

In front of you sits Sans, with his shorts pulled down low enough to expose his pelvis, but it wasn’t his bones that were drawing your attention. It was… it was… well, it was red, and glowing slightly from what you could tell by the red hue splashed against his gray shirt. Despite those unusual differences, you were looking at a cock. Your mind is still trying to wrap your head around the fact as Sans wraps one of his bony hands around the red rod to give it a tug. It twitches. You take a step back.

“Well? Ya hungry or not?” He sounded frustrated. You noticed that his left socket was alight and burning, while his right had turned black. The last time you had seen him like that had been last night when he had... when things happened. Was he really expecting you to just walk over and… give him a hand? It couldn’t be a real cock, could it? It didn’t look real. It looked more like something you would pick up from a sex shop. Maybe it was a strap-on? You didn’t see any straps.

“Is that… real?” It did look a lot like his tongue though, and that made about as much sense. But his tongue just sort of came from the dark space inside his mouth. This? It just sort of flowed up from his pelvis, it didn't even look like it was attached to anything, though it seemed to have no problem standing to attention.

“Ya fucking kidding me right? What did ya think I used last night?” Well that would solve one mystery. It still left hundreds more.

“But… I saw you this morning. You were just bones.” You move forward and gesture up and down his body with your hand. None of this made any sense.

“Sweetheart, I’m a skeleton. Ya spent the day working for a man made out of fire. Is it really that hard to believe I have a dick?” Okay, he had a point there.

“But it… how?” Sans gave a sigh.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood to give ya a biology lesson. So how about we skip the theory and I just give ya an oral test. Unless ya not feeling hungry?” Sans smiled, parting his legs and inviting you to come closer. So this was it then. This was the choice you had to make to eat. Fuck your life, and what it had become! This was not a choice you should have to make. You just wanted food. Was that really too much to ask? Clearly it was.

“If I do this, I can eat the spaghetti?” If you were going through with this then you were going to make sure it was not going to be for nothing. He had already made you strip, you didn’t need him adding on more hoops to jump through.

“Yup, and then we can put this whole thing behind us. Of course if ya not hungry, then well, I gotta assume ya was lying to me about getting fed at Grillby’s, and ya know how I feel about lying.”

“Fine. Let's just get this over with.” If you were going to go through with this, then you were going to make sure Sans knew damn well that it had nothing to do with pleasure. You walk forward and kneel in front of Sans, anger fueling your actions and stopping you from hesitating. You lean forward to take hold of the glowing member but are stopped when Sans grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks up. Your hands reach out to try and stop him but it only causes the bastard to pull harder until they fall away and you stop resisting. Slowly, anger fades, and is replaced with frustration and bitterness. The worst of it is you can’t be sure if the feelings are directed more at Sans, or yourself.

“Strike one pet. I thought we were past this stage.” Sans sounded almost disappointed, and you hated that his tone made you feel bad for acting up. You should have just done what he wanted in the first place. Eventually he lets go of your hair and you’re able to fall back to your knees.
“Maybe ya need a little something to remind ya of ya place. Hold still.” You want to pull back. You want to run. But as Sans leans forward and drags something against your neck, you know that there is nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide, and no way to stop him. It was better to just let him have his way because in the end, he would always win. As Sans pulls back, you see a rope of bones trailing from his hand and up to your neck. Your heart misses a beat. He had wrapped the belt from your shorts around your throat.

“Now, let’s try this again.” Leaning back and with the end of the belt still in hand, Sans uses his other to stroke himself back to full height. You keep your head down as you move forward, one hand tentatively reaching out to take hold of the surreal dick when Sans moves his away. It felt. Warm. Soft. Slightly slimy, too. It felt a lot more like a smooth tongue than it did a dick, though firmer. It twitched beneath your fingers.

“See, nothing to be afraid of. Go on. Give it a taste pet. Show me how hungry ya are.” You feel Sans give a slight tug on the belt and realise that hesitating for too long would not end well for you. Swallowing, you move closer.

Pre-cum beads on the tip. Red, but not like blood, more like strawberry syrup. Leaning forward, you let your tongue brush the tip before it retreats into your mouth. He didn’t taste bad, certainly not as bad as you were expecting considering his filthy habits. It was just kind of a neutral taste really. Leaning in closer, you let your lips wrap around the tip for a moment as your tongue slides down the underside of his cock before dragging back along the surface and into your mouth. Sans lets out a sigh and you can’t help the smile that plays on your lips for a second. There was just something satisfying about hearing someone enjoy what you were doing.

The faster you got him off the sooner you could eat and try to forget all about this. Feeling a little bolder you take more of the cock, carefully avoiding your teeth getting in the way. The strange slickness of the organ helped your lips move along its surface as your head bobs and you slowly work the cock deeper. You had never mastered deepthroating but your hands were able to work the rest of the shaft as your tongue moves to swirl around the tip or lap against the underside of his cock.

Sans groans and pulls on the belt when you slide up and suck on the tip, his cock twitching at the sensation.
“Maybe ya really are hu-hungry pet. Heh heh.” He pants a little as you try to take more of him in your mouth.
“Sweeth-h-heart look at me. That's it ahh, I want ya to see me. I want ya to, oh fuck, I want ya to think of only me.”

Admittedly, it was hard to think of anyone else but Sans when you were sucking on what could only be described as a novelty lightsaber. You look up and try to keep the momentum going. The noises he was making as well as the wet sounds you were making were starting to have an effect on your own body, cool air teasing at the dampness between your legs. You daren't try and touch yourself, no matter how tempting it might be, as the thought of Sans catching you is almost enough to kill the building arousal, almost.

You get a little worried when you hear the skeleton’s bones start to rattle as you pick up the pace. You have one hand held flat on the ground to help support you while the other pumps the base of his shaft in time with your mouth. The thought that he might fall apart crossed your mind once or twice and it both brought on a wave of pride and hope. Stranger things had happened after all, and if you could escape by giving a blow job and then smashing Sans’ detached skull with your piss bucket, then you were all for it.

Eventually, with your jaw feeling like it was about to fall off itself, the cock in your mouth starts to twitch stronger. Sans’ panting increases as he grips onto the sofa cushions, phalanges digging into the material and causing it to strain and threaten to tear. You manage to push him over the edge with a couple of hard sucks.

“FUCK!” Sans pushes forwards, arching over you as he cums. One hand grabbing onto your hair and holding you in place.

You managed to swallow, the bland taste helping to ease the fact that a skeleton had just blown his load in your mouth, besides it was unlikely he would be very pleased if you made a mess on his carpet or couch. Looking up at Sans, as he finally lets you go, you watch as he falls back into the couch. You can’t help but feel satisfied that you were responsible for his current condition. Sweating and panting with a glazed look on his face. His smile no longer smug but content. A blowjob could be a powerful weapon if used correctly. Right now, however, you only wanted one thing.

Clearing your throat, and wiping away any leakages, you fold your arms.
“Now, can I please eat the spaghetti.”

“Bone Appétit pet, bone Appétit.”

Chapter Text

You don’t have to be told twice, though you do risk rolling your eyes at Sans’ choice of words as he gives his permission to eat. It was bad enough that you had been reduced to giving sexual favors for food without him making jokes about it. You just had to move past it. What was done was done, and it was a hell of a lot less painful than letting some fire demon burn patterns into your skin. Not that either situation should be a reality. This was so fucked up! The sooner you get out of this living hell, the better.

Standing and leaving Sans in his happy haze, the belt of bones slipped from his grasp to hang from your neck down, between your breasts. Not wanting the humiliating item of clothing tied around you any longer, your hands are quick to unbuckle it. Or at least they would be if you could find the join. You trace your fingers around each joint, but the bones all felt the same, all clipped together magnetically; at least, that was how you assume it worked. You start pulling a little harder, sure that even if this particular join was not the one you were looking for, it would still break regardless.

“Pet, leave it alone and go eat.” Sans had one socket cracked open, a red light glinting in its depths.
“Unless ya want a second helping.” He opened his legs wider while a smirk played on his skull. Sick bastard. You drop the bones and grab the plate of spaghetti before you lost your appetite.

Having touched more than enough of Sans already today, or any day, you make sure to sit on the far end of the sofa. Your back slightly tilted away from him as you use the armrest to help balance the plate of food. For once you would at least eat sans Sans. He, however, had other ideas.

Your fist tightens around the, unfortunately plastic, fork as Sans slides over to sit next to you, effectively pinning you between his boney side and the armrest. You want to tell him to back off. You want to tell him to leave you alone. Most of all, you REALLY want to see just how much of an impact this little fork could make with enough force behind it. A quick glance confirmed his glow rod had vanished to whence it came from, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t find other sensitive areas. Like an eye socket maybe.


You grit your teeth but can’t help but feel the cold sweat prickle at your skin. In just one word you could hear the warning, the threat. He could probably see how tense you were, how your knuckles turned white and strained around that little piece of cutlery. You felt like a coiled spring ready to snap at the slightest wrong move.

“If ya gonna do something, then do it.” It sounded like a challenge, at least the words did, but Sans was so laidback, completely confident that whatever you were planning was not worth his time. That coiled spring faded, crumbling into rust. Who were you trying to fool? There really was nothing you could do. Nothing that would not leave you in a worse situation than you were already in. Your grip on the fork relaxes.

“That’s it little bird.” You try to ignore Sans as he snakes an arm around your shoulder, his phalanges playing with the belt of bones still around your neck.
“Now eat up, you’ve earned it.” Taking a deep breath through your nose you slowly release it through your mouth and try to will yourself to relax. You couldn’t do anything right now, so your best bet was to play the part. The last thing you needed was to do something stupid, not before you'd eaten anyway.

Scooping up a forkful of the still warm pasta you shove it into your mouth, your tongue artfully capturing and drawing in any stray strands. The fork meanwhile dips back down to grab another wriggling mass before you had even tasted the first load. You knew it was because you had not eaten all day, but those first few forkfuls of spaghetti were the most heavenly thing you had ever tasted. Sure some of the pasta was a little crunchy, but that just added to the texture, right? Even if half of them seemed to be crunchy because they were undercooked and the other half because they were burned. You try to wrap your head around how that was possible, but in the end, food was food.

Trying not to focus on the state of the pasta, you concentrate on the sauce instead. Your taste buds were singing in delight as the tomato and herb flavours hit them. Wow, you needed this. Doughnuts, hot dogs and burgers were fine and all, but you needed fruit and veg every now and again, and your body was letting you know that this was long overdue. You didn't even mind that the tomatoes were little more than a raw paste rather than a true sauce.

What you did mind, however, was Sans playing with the belt around your neck. The bones had not taken long to warm to your body temperature, so it had been easy enough to ignore them, unless some asshole insisted on moving them and sliding them ever so slightly against your bruised skin. You turn your head to shoot him an annoyed look, but he just smiles a little wider, the ridges above his sockets raising and inviting you to speak out. You turn away and inhale another mouthful of spaghetti to keep yourself silent.

"You know pet, I think ya look good like this." The tug at your neck lets you know Sans was not just alluding to your lack of clothes. He leans in closer, breath pooling around your neck as he whispers into your ear.
"I like seeing bones wrapped around ya neck." You suddenly find it hard to swallow, your memories flickering back to what had transpired just a few moments before. A piece of sharp spaghetti takes this momentary lapse in concentration to try and take a wrong turn. You're forced to cough it back to the right track, causing Sans to pull back and laugh.

"All choked up over me. I'm flattered." You continue to try and ignore the self centered prick. His jovial mood was clearly a result of his recent 'happy ending', but it was certainly an improvement to him being pissed off at you, so you would suffer through it.

A piece of pasta slips from your fork and splashes onto the plate below, splattering sauce and a few seeds against your chest. With a finger you quickly scoop up the mess but Sans catches your hand before it can reach your mouth, instead drawing towards his own. It takes all of your will power not to pull away, not even when he opens his shark-like mouth to let his tongue snake over your fingers. He takes his time cleaning off the sauce, eyes never leaving yours in the act. When he finally lets go you pull back and try to wipe off the thin coating of slime. You would have been better with the sauce.

"Such a messy pet. Don't worry. I'll get ya nice an' clean when ya finished." That promise sends a shiver up your spine as you look down at the now almost empty plate. You're starting to regret just how fast you'd been eating.

The next ten minutes are spent picking slowly at the plate while Sans naps next to you. It wasn't that you didn't want to be clean; a nice warm bath or shower would be heaven right now. It was the fact that last time Sans had cleaned you, it had been less than pleasant. Okay that was a lie. It had felt nice, in a creepy, perverted, utterly degrading sort of way, but it was not something you wanted to repeat. Your legs close together a little tighter, but it just reminds you of your slight dampness between then. Your brain knew what it did and did not want, but that didn't mean your body did. Traitor.

Sans doesn't wake up for a while, even after there is nothing left on the plate. Your own eyes start to feel heavy as you drift in and out of sleep, your full stomach luring you to oblivion. It wasn't like there was anything else to do, and if you were lucky Sans would completely forget about his plan to bathe you. Or, better yet, it would be too late and he would just give you a wet cloth to deal with yourself. You sigh. Dream on. Like that was going to happen.

Big bad and bony stirs before you are able to catch more than a few minuets yourself, his shifting enough to ensure you are wide awake. He rumbles his strange purr while pulling you a little closer so he can sleepily nuzzle his head into your neck. You find yourself hoping that he was awake enough to realise you were not something to snack on in his stupor. A bony hand snakes its way to your chest to grab possessively at one of your breasts. What was it with this guy's libido? You accidentally, but mercifully, knock the plate balancing on the armrest onto the floor, the soft thump and sound of the fork hitting the crockery waking Sans the rest of the way, not that you were sure it would change his current plans.

Thankfully he pulls back to lean over and see what the noise was. Seemingly disinterested, he yawns and stretches before hauling himself off the sofa. His gaze lands on you. You don't like the smile on his face. You don't particularly like any of his smiles, but this one was making you really nervous. He bends down to pick up the plate and fork before heading to the kitchen. You listen for the sound of water, expecting him to come back with a pot of warm water like last time, but when he returns to the living room he has nothing but a small brown slab in his hands. Your face scrunches up as you recognise it.

"The look on your face right now." Sans laughs as he hands over the supplement. You might have been a little more eager to eat it had he given it to you before you had eaten your fill of spaghetti, but as of right now, you were not a fan. Knowing you didn't have a choice you manage to choke the meaty thing down, its oily taste clinging to your mouth long after the 'food' had gone.

"Good girl. Now, get those clothes on while I fetch a few things." You can't help but look confused as Sans heads upstairs. Clothes on? That was not what you had been expecting. Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, you waste no time in getting the discarded items back around your body. They still smelt bad, but at least you were covered.

You fiddle with the bones around your neck as you wait, still unable to work out how to take the thing off. Had Sans forgotten about his promise to get you washed? Maybe, but didn't explain why he wanted you to put your clothes on? Was he taking you somewhere? That seemed to be likely. Grillby's comes to mind but you shake your head at that thought. That was the last place you wanted to be right now, or ever.

"I told ya ta leave the collar alone pet." Guiltily, your hand drops from the belt before turning to look at Sans. He was carrying a towel? Connecting the dots, you can only assume that Sans was taking you somewhere to get washed. It was a worrying thought as while it meant he was likely taking you somewhere you could properly get clean, instead of just relying on a pot of water and a cloth, it meant you were going somewhere new.

As of late, ‘new’ rarely turned out to be your friend, and Sans was in just too good a mood for this turn of events to bode well for you. Before you could dwell on the situation any longer, Sans hands you the towel before dropping two somethings to the floor. Shoes, actual shoes. They were clearly too big for you, and in fact looked like they were an old pair of Sans' he hadn't bothered to throw out, but they were shoes. Slipping your feet inside, Sans proceeds to tie the laces tightly to prevent them from falling off. If you had to guess they were probably only one size too big for you. Skeletons clearly didn’t take a large shoe size since, well, his feet were just bones. You know you could tell Sans you could tie your own damn shoelaces but really, what was the point? He probably already knew and just didn’t care. Instead, you snuggle your arms into the towel. It was big, brown and fairly soft. It smelt clean too, like frost and pine needles.

With the circulation only slightly cut off to your feet, Sans stands up and takes hold of the hanging part of the belt around your neck.
“Pet, I want ya ta listen real hard.” You nod making sure to hold Sans’ gaze.
“Ya don’t speak ta anyone. Ya don’t look at anyone, and ya don’t leave my side. Got it?”

You nod, clutching the towel tightly to your chest. The thought of meeting more monsters petrified you. Grillby had been bad enough, and Sans considered him to be a friend, or at least someone he could somewhat trust.
“Sans.” You risk speaking up and are relieved that he waits for you to carry on.
“Where are we going?”

“Just a little spot where I can get ya nice an’ wet.”

Chapter Text

The weather is still bitter when you leave the house, but you knew the cold pit of fear sitting heavily in your stomach was not really keeping you warm, either. Sans leads you away from the rest of the small village his home seemed to be part of, away from the path that led to Grillby's, a small relief. His arm rests on your shoulder, tucking you neatly against his warm side. Unfortunately that same arm also held onto the chain of bones wrapped around your neck. Sans apparently liked your new apparel a little too much, and you were having doubts he would ever remove it. Still, at least he was not pulling you around by it. Yet.

Conversation was thankfully not part of this little trip. You weren't even sure if you could talk with the way the air was biting and searching to sap what little heat you clung to. A thick, freezing mist had descended not long after you had lost sight of Sans’ house, and it was starting to cling to your clothes and skin. Sans didn't seem to be affected, or if he did, he didn't show it. You, on the other hand, could feel yourself slowly turning into a block of ice.

Your body shook as you tucked your arms tighter into the thick towel you were still carrying, your face buried into its plush surface so that only your eyes peeked out. The shoes you'd been given were the only reason you’d been able to walk this far. However, walking in a size too big, and with your movements already becoming stiffer, it was no surprise when you started to stumble. Thankfully (or at least you are thankful for the fact you don't end up with a face full of snow), Sans keeps a firm hold on you.

While the cold still clings to you long after the fog lifts, you notice its bite weakens. The moisture in the air was no longer pricking at your skin like tiny needles. Steadily the snow starts to vanish, and with it, so did the light. You were starting to believe what Sans had said about the snow glowing. It doesn't take long for the darkness to begin pressing in from all sides, but you are not left completely without light. A soft blue glow touches the walls in places, steadily glowing brighter the deeper you walk, as did the sound of running water.

"Is... is the water meant to glow like that?" You couldn't stop yourself from breaking the silence at the sight of a luminescent blue river. You feel as well as hear Sans laugh at your side.

"Heh, yup. Pretty, ain't it? It's not actually the water glowing. Just the stuff living in it. Without sunlight we make do with what we have." You lift your head from the towel and try to look at Sans to read his expression, but it is hard to make out much of anything in this soft light, just the contours of his bones and clothes cast in the ghostly blue glow.

What must it be like living without the sun? Without the stars or the moon? Without any natural way to read the passage of time? Did the monsters down here used to live on the surface? Or did they age and die over time? Did they have families, children, like humans? How many generations had grown up without ever seeing the sky, trapped in the dark together? It was no wonder they were so twisted.
"Isn't there any way for you to get to the surface?" The words tumble from your mouth before you could stop them.

"Wouldn't do much good if we could. Humans aren't really the sharing type. Fuck, ya can't even share with each other."

"Well that's hardly fair... we've been getting better." For all the bad things humans had done in the world, they were also responsible for wonderful things as well. The fact that so many were trying to fix, preserve, or help in any way they could was testament to the good humans could do. That said, as much as you wanted to stand up for your race, Sans did have a point. If monsters ever showed themselves on the surface, they would likely get blown to bits before they had a chance to see their second sunrise. But, with the small sample of monsters you had met down here, you were not inclined to say that such an act would be the wrong one.

"'Getting better', heh. Pet, ya believe that about as much as I do."

You don't bother trying to argue, not because you agreed with Sans, you just knew it wouldn't do any good. He already seemed to have his mind made up about your race, which did lead you to wonder why he even had you to begin with. Maybe he just didn't have any luck with the lady monsters; he was a self centered asshole and you had to assume that even monsters had standards. Maybe he just wanted to take hold and control something from the surface, like those people who always wanted the most exotic pets. Honestly, the more you got to know Sans, the more you think he just saw a chance to grab you and then kept you on a whim.

A little further into your walk you notice a lot more plant life, mostly glowing moss and grass but also lilypads and flowers. The largest of which were really quite impressive and stood almost as tall as you did.

“Is it the water making those flowers glow?” You had never seen flowers like these before. They looked a little like sunflowers but they glowed in the same cyan light as the water so you could only assume the two were connected.

“Sure is. Here, they got a neat trick to them.” Sans pulls you over to the nearest flower and you can’t help but marvel at how you can see the tiny veins glowing within the leaves. You are left confused as you watch him stroke its petals and whisper something into the flower head before pulling back and turning to you.
“There we go, now touch its stem.”

“What?” Was that meant to be a euphemism?

“Go on, just touch its stem.” You frown but decided to go along with whatever Sans was doing. It was probably going to squirt you in the face or something.

“Flower you doing bud?”

The flower had… spoken? Well that was unexpected. Sans is laughing.
“You should see ya expression. Heh heh. They’re called Echo flowers. They repeat what they hear.

“I’m not even going to ask how that is even possible.”

“Heh, ya learning at least.” Sans smiles as you roll your eyes and continue on your way.

As you trek deeper, you notice the ground grew boggy in places. You’re glad when the dirt path gives way to wooden slats, but you have to watch your step as you quickly realise that wet wood was just as slippery as ice. One misstep leads you to plant a foot just off from the path and you feel it sink ever so slightly into the earth. Pulling the erant limb back in step you feel the ground try to hold on to it, sucking it down and requiring a decent amount of force to pull it free. All the while you’re stuck Sans continues to laugh at you. Jerk.

“Sweetheart, if ya wanted ta get down an’ dirty, we coulda just stayed at home.” He pulls you closer, nuzzling the side of your head. You know it is meant to be an affectionate gesture, but it just made you feel used. Not even like a pet, but like a doll.

Still, at least Sans was in a good mood, something you had no plans to change if you could help it. That said... maybe you could use his good mood? You chew on the inside of your cheek for a moment as you walk side by side, the sounds of flowing water following your every step. Out of the corner of your eye you think you see something in the water, a dark shape just below the glowing surface, but it's gone before you are able to get a better look.

"Sans?" You were going to have to watch what you said, but you couldn't miss this opportunity to try and get a little more information. Just play it casual light conversation.
"How many monsters live down here?"

"Hmm, can't say for sure, but I think the last tally was around the eight thousand mark."

You don't even realise that you pull back slightly as the number hit you. Eight thousand!? The shock is laced in your voice.
"But... how? Just how big is the Underground?"

"Big enough for about eight thousand monsters I'd say." Sans keeps you moving while your head is still trying to wrap around the number. Eight hundred you could easily believe. Maybe even a thousand. But eight thousand? Eight thousand demons living and breathing right under everyone's noses. How was that even possible? How did no one know about this? Maybe... maybe this really was hell, or at least what had inspired the myths about the place. It was certainly less 'flamey' than you would have expected. What was it even like to live down here? Not that you had any plans on settling down, it's just... well, maybe if you could understand Sans and the world he lived in a little better, then you might have a higher chance of surviving.

"Do... do monsters have families?" Sans seems a little more reluctant to answer this new question, but eventually he nods.

"Yeah, we got families." You wait in the hope that Sans might elaborate or open up a little more on the subject, but he just carries on walking and leading you to wherever it is you're going. Clearly you were going to have to dig deeper if you were going to find out what made your captor tick.

"Do you?"

He gives a slight tug on the bone collar around your neck, but continues to keep his skull facing forward.
"Ya know, ya awfully chatty at the moment. Maybe I should find something to keep ya mouth occupied." You get the message and stay quiet. Clearly the subject of 'family' was a no-go area. Maybe he used to be human? It might explain why he was reluctant to talk about having a family. You find yourself pushing that thought away. As much as Sans might look like a human skeleton, there were too many differences for that to be true. The thought, however, continued to sit at the back of your mind.

A splash to your right pulls your attention away from what Sans may or may not be, but only glowing ripples remain on the surface of the water. Eight thousand, your mind reminds you. After meeting Sans and Grillby, the idea of aquatic monsters seemed completely plausible, and utterly terrifying. So while Sans continues ignoring the flickering shapes and noises, you find yourself growing more and more on edge.

"Sans," you whisper, leaning in closer to avoid anyone overhearing.
"I think someone's watching us."

“Sweetheart, we’ve been watched since we left the house. Don’t worry about it. Ya safe with me.” That was certainly debatable, but you couldn't help but feel it was true. You DID feel safer with Sans, and there was no doubt in your mind that you would not get far without him walking next to you.

A thought suddenly hits you hard. You were out of the house. Fed and clothed. Yet the idea of getting away from Sans and finding some way to escape the underground had only just occurred to you. Wow, you hated this. Sure, right now at this exact moment was hardly the best time to try and escape, not with Sans so close and his grip wrapped around your new bony accessory, but you should at least be looking for a chance to escape. When had you gotten so comfortable with your current situation?

The rest of the walk is spent with you trying to spot anything that might help you. A hidden passageway. A particularly thick section of marsh reeds. A really big stick. Anything that might help you. Anything to help prove to yourself that escape was your number one priority.

You hear the waterfalls before you see them, the white noise of crashing water slowly registering in the background before it grew into something that could not be ignored. Even with the warning, nothing could have prepared you for the sight. Waterfalls on the surface were beautiful, but they paled in comparison in every way. It was... it was magical.

At first glance, you thought you'd been brought out onto the surface. The air was alive and moving, the sky open to the night above. That dream quickly faded when you realized the glowing lights above you were not stars. Whatever they were they still twinkled and hung high above your head in a glittering galaxy of light. All around you waterfalls spilled luminous veils of water filling the air with noise, light and moisture. Glowing plants clung to every surface as echo flowers occasionally whispered their messages. The sight stole your breath away and you knew, if you ever did get back to the surface, you would never see anything as beautiful as this.

"Told ya we make do." You can hear the pride in Sans’ voice as you turn to see him watching you take the sight in. You can't help the genuine smile on your lips. After everything you have been through, you needed this. You needed to see something that could make you feel like there was still hope in the world.

"It's beautiful Sans. Thank you. Thank you for showing me this." You watch as Sans stares at you for a moment before looking away and rubbing the back of his skull with his free hand.

"Aww, little bird, I ain't even showed you the best bit yet.” His skull turns back to you and for once his smile doesn't make you feel like you had locked eyes with a predator.
“Come on, this way. Nearly there now." Sans moves his arm from your shoulders and slides down to grab your hand, his phalanges lacing between your fingers, before making his way down one of the side paths with you trailing a little behind. The gesture is a shock at first but it’s a welcome change to how he normally holds on to you. Your own smile still hasn't left your lips.

As Sans leads you deeper down a winding tunnel, you are sad to see the light from the waterfall cavern fade into the background. While the passage is narrow and damp, it is also wonderfully warm and lit with small crystals embedded into the walls. Just before you ask Sans how much further, the tunnel brightens and opens up into a new cave.

While certainly not as big as the waterfall cavern, it was no less beautiful. Grass and flowers line the outside edges making the ‘room’ look like a glowing glade in the middle of a forest, an island of light in the darkness. Water vapor mists and curls around the ground, painting the grass and flowers with glowing droplets that glittered like a thousand diamonds. In the center of it all a small stream of water free falls from a hole above and into a shallow pool. You couldn’t believe how anything so beautiful could exist in this dark and twisted world, yet here it was.

“Well ya ain’t going to get clean standing there sweetheart.” Sans sweeps one arm towards the glowing pool.

“Is… is it safe? I mean… I’m not going to grow an extra arm or anything, right?” As beautiful as the glowing water was, it was just not natural. Was it radioactive or something? Maybe it was the water that had made these monsters, well, monsters.

“Well yeah. It’s a bioluminescent algae in the water that does the glowing. Perfectly safe.” Sans drops your hand and walks over to the edge of the small pool before crouching down and dipping his phalanges into the water. Every movement made the water glow brighter as he swirled the liquid around his bones, it was like he was playing with magic. You follow after him and kneel down at the pool’s edge. You can feel the warmth rolling off from the water before your fingers dip below the surface and, while not hot, the temperature was certainly pleasant.

“See. All safe. Ya hair might glow for a bit but it's better than ya smelling of smoke.” He pulls his hand out and flicks the water at you before using his shorts as a towel.
“Getting late though so ya ain't got long." You would have quite happily stayed here all day if given the chance, but Sans was right. Today had stretched on forever and you could feel sleep lingering at the edges of your tired mind.

Placing the towel away from the water’s edge, you quickly strip off and make another pile beside it for your clothes. Sans clearly didn’t like others looking at you so you were pretty sure you didn’t have to worry about him stealing them, or at least, if he did, he would return them before you needed to head back. Pushing the thought of Sans watching you out of your mind, you lower one foot into the water and can’t help but sigh.

“Sweetheart.” You freeze, shoulders coming up and arms folded across your chest as you turn to look at Sans. He was happily leaning against a large rock that might once have been a stalagmite. Before you can ask him what he wants, you feel the familiar tug on your chest. You stumble forward, landing on the glowing grass and spraying glittering droplets everywhere. Why did Sans have to ruin every little moment of bliss!

“At least give me a warning when you’re going to do that!” You look up at Sans from your position on the floor, his bony hands cupped around your soul, before standing and wiping the grass from your legs.

“Pet.” There is a warning in his voice but you ignore it.

“What!” There were only so many ways your emotions could be pulled and right now you were seriously suffering from whiplash. Could he not let you enjoy this without ripping your soul out? It left you feeling drunk, and not even the good, happy drunk way, just a fuzzy ache in your chest and in your head. You just wanted to get clean.

“Strike two.” Two? Why two? You try to remember when you got the first strike. It was back at the house... at some point. Your brain struggles before you just give up. It didn’t matter. You just knew you had to keep a lid on your temper, which of course would be easier if you had your damn soul back!
“Go on, get washed. Unless ya want me ta come in and help.” You lower and shake your head.

You’re reluctant to move further away from your soul, but if you were going to get clean, you didn’t have much choice. Sans was either going to hold your soul or hold you and you knew he would have a lot more fun holding onto you. Probably the only reason he wasn’t groping you right now was because he didn't want to get his bones wet, though you are pretty sure he was long overdue a shower himself.

Slowly you move away from your soul. For some reason it sometimes flickers blue instead of its normal purple colour, but Sans was right. The more you focused on your soul, the more it hurt. Instead, you focused on the warm water slipping around your toes. Your slow walk to reach the central point sends ripples of bright blue light throughout the pool. You couldn't let Sans destroy this moment for you. Reaching out to the stream of water, you marvel as it flows over your skin, warming and painting it in magic. It didn’t feel any different than water, and you had already come this far. Holding your breath and closing your eyes, you step under the water.

It felt wonderful and you made a vow to never take showers for granted ever again. For a moment, you lean your head forward and let the water hit your back and shoulders, the stream wide enough to cascade down the entirety of your skin. Despite the twisting knot in your chest where your soul should be, you can feel your muscles relax. Regretfully you didn’t have anything to wash with, but the water came down heavy enough to dislodge most of the dirt that clung to you. It felt so good to be clean. Your hands reach up to pull the knots from your hair and help the water flow through it. What you wouldn't give for some soap right now.

A shiver rolls up your spine as you move to let the water attack your front. You had never felt so safe before, so relaxed. You could fall asleep quite happily right here. You feel yourself sway, your weight moving from one foot to the other as your eyes close. Don’t think, just feel. Something doesn't feel right. You are too warm. The soothing water is suddenly hitting you much too hard. Backing away from the small waterfall, you look down and find your hands shaking. What was happening? You were panting and your heart felt like it was running a mile.

Your eyes suddenly snap open wide as a stab of pleasure ripples from your core and forces you to stumble and gasp, your legs weak from the unexpected intensity of the feeling. What the hell was that? Your eyes lock on Sans. He is still leaning on the same rock but the smile on his face… the Grinch would have been impressed. You wanted to run. You wanted to get away as fast and as far as you could, but the sight of your soul in his phalanges held you in place. To your horror, you watch as Sans lifts a single boney digit and strokes it along the outside edge, his eyes never leaving yours. Your legs give in as you drop to the floor and another strangled gasp leaves your lips.

“Don’t ya just love how sensitive souls are, pet?” He was doing all this with just one finger? You suddenly realised just how vulnerable you were. Sans had your SOUL, and he was touching it. You had seen how that one man had reacted when the wolves had been ripping his apart, but you had never thought it could be used to do… this.

“Sans, please.” You stumble forward, very aware of just how important it was to get your soul back.

“I don’t think so, pet.” You suddenly feel like you’re being crushed as you watch Sans’ grip around your soul tighten.
“Stay in the water.” He sounded like he was scolding a puppy from trying to come in the kitchen. You stop trying to claw your way forward and feel the pressure leave you before another, gentler, wave of pleasure rocks your body.
“Good girl,” he purrs.
“Ya see, the thing about souls is it’s all about intent. One touch can leave ya writhing in agony, or in pleasure. I dunno about you pet, but I think I know which one I’d pick.”

Fuck! You’re panting, trying to catch your breath as you as you push yourself back up on your hands and knees.
“Please Sans. It’s too much. It hurts.” You could still feel the aftershocks, the way your body ached. You wanted to curl up in a ball and hide. You had never felt anything like that before. It was like every nerve in your body was suddenly firing at the same time. You felt sick, violated in a way that shouldn’t be possible. No one should touch your soul. It was private, it was yours, it was everything.

When you see Sans move to stroke his bone against your soul again, you try to tense up, to prepare for the feeling, but it didn’t make any difference. Your legs clench together as you collapse onto your side, moaning and fighting for breath.
“Donno pet, that doesn't sound like it hurt to me.” You’re given no time to recover as a second wave hits you. You scream this time, as your spine arches and you’re forced to roll over and lay on your back in the glowing water.
“Nope, definitely not pain. Maybe I’m not hearing it right. What do you think?”

The room is suddenly filled with moans and gasps. The sounds… that voice… it was you, you’re listening to yourself, the echo flowers gently swaying as they repeat your cries over and over again. Tears bite at your eyes as you’re racked with shame. This wasn’t just cruel, this was evil, this was… inhuman. Through your blurred vision you struggle to turn back around and look at the demon who seemed intent on breaking you in every way.
“Why? Why are you doing this?” There had to be a reason, right? There had to be a way to make him stop.

“Because ya mine. Ya body, ya soul, it’s all mine.” The intensity in which Sans speaks those words scares you. You watch as he holds your soul close to his face, the purple and cyan light each fighting to paint his bones in their own colour. You can feel his breath. You can feel it wrapping around your soul, around you. You struggle to keep your eyes open, to keep the gentle touch from overwhelming your senses. Sans smiles a little wider.
“The sooner ya accept it, the sooner I can make ya sing the most beautiful songs. Just listen. Listen to how easy I make ya sing.”

Most of the echo flowers are still playing back your moans, a few whispering your pleas for Sans to stop, but others re-play Sans’ words. A melody that sings for you to give up.
Ya mine. Beautiful songs. Accept it. It’s all mine. Just listen. Ya body. How easy. Accept it. Ya soul. Listen. All mine.
Your hands cover your ears, desperate to try and block out the voices, but another twisting stab of pleasure sends you clawing at the smooth stone floor beneath the glowing water.

“Don’t fight it. I can make ya feel so good, little bird. Ya just have ta want it. Open up. Ya don’t have to be afraid. Open ya soul to me. Let me in.”

You’re crying. Every time you think it’s all over, that Sans has finally grown bored of toying with you, your body is set on fire again. You don’t… You can’t take this anymore. You don’t… It’s driving you crazy. You don’t want… It’s too much. You don’t want your soul.

A numbness washes over you.

You would call it a blessing, but you can’t even summon enough feeling to care.


Everything feels so distant.


So unimportant.


You didn’t matter.



Nothing mattered.

Chapter Text

Everything felt muffled, muted, like a thick filter had been placed over the world. For some reason, that was good. Part of you wonders if you're dead, though it was more of a passing thought than a question. Did it matter if you were dead? You know logically you should be worried, that death was a bad thing... but, if you were dead, then was there really anything to worry about? It wasn’t like you could change anything if you were dead, so why worry? The thought drifts away. It didn't matter. Absently you try to grasp at something, any sort of emotion, but it felt like water, slipping and flowing through your grasp.

Water. You were lying in water.

With your back pressed against the solid stone beneath, you feel a sudden shift in the rock. The air around you starts to become heavy as small stones and dirt fall like rain from the ceiling above. Unbidden, one of your hands lifts to try and touch the falling debris, not to catch, or even to protect yourself, just to maybe see what it felt like.

Something hit you.

It wasn't a rock, it wasn't even physical, but it hit hard and felt like a punch to your chest. It sends you lurching upright onto your knees, glowing water dancing in the air, casting eerie blue light along your skin as you gasp for breath.

You could feel! Fuck, you could feel! You were suddenly bombarded with so many different sensations all at once that you screamed and curled in on yourself. Your hands and arms try to cover your head and stifle the attack. Light, sound, even your sense of touch made the smooth rock against your skin feel like sandpaper. You almost want to go back to the empty limbo you had been caught in just moments before, but you fight to keep yourself together. You knew what this was. You had your soul back. You were whole. You were you. Why did it have to hurt so much?

Confused, scared, and fighting the urge to throw up, you slowly peel your limbs away from your head to look around. It was chaos. The cave looked like it was collapsing! Logical thought was out of your reach for the moment as you focus on the one thing all life wants - to survive. Your eyes search for Sans. It was an action you didn't berate yourself for or even question, you knew Sans would keep you safe from being buried alive under a ton of earth, and that was all that mattered.

At first, you can’t even see the rock Sans had been leaning against; everything was too confusing. You call out his name, choking on the dust in the air and yelping as a lump of stone falls and hits you across your shoulder. When you finally find him, you stumble backwards in panic by what you see.… Bones, ripping their way through the solid stone before melting into a red ooze, or blowing apart as though they were made of sand. Eyes glowing in the flickering blue and red shadows. This can’t be real. What the hell was happening! Had you banged your head? This had to be a nightmare or something.

Then you see Sans.

In the center of the chaos. At the heart of the storm. Surrounded by bones and claws and teeth. He looked like he was on fire. Red, dark, unnatural flames each with a core of purple danced along his body. His form contorted, hands clawing at his chest and skull. Panting, gasping, choking on screams. The sight leaves you frozen in place, eyes open so wide it hurts.

The moment a large rock falls from above and splashes into the water, the spell is broken. You run.

A brief moment of clarity ensures you grab the towel and clothes piled at your side, but you waste no time using them, instead clutching them to your chest. You run.

The narrow tunnel guides you back to the waterfall cavern, but you don’t stop to marvel at its beauty. You don’t stop to question which way to go. You don’t stop. You run.

How far or how long, you ran for were lost to you, but when your legs finally fail and leave you gasping on your hands and knees in a shallow puddle of glowing water, you do know that you hadn't run far or long enough. A distant splash forces you to pull yourself into a patch of tall grass and reeds. Your heart is hammering from both fear and exertion. The bundle of cloth still clutched to your chest. You know if anyone finds you right now, you wouldn’t be able to do a thing. But despite everything, as you quietly pull your clothes on with your hands shaking, you can’t help but feel a flicker of hope. You were free. You had gotten away from Sans.

In your hazy thoughts you kind of hoped he was okay. The state you had left him in, he looked like he had been dying. Sure, the bastard deserved everything he got, but… that? You clutch at your head and pull your hair in frustration, the pain dragging your thoughts away. Sans didn’t matter. There was nothing you could do. All that mattered now was getting back to the surface. If that grinning git was dead, then it just meant one less monster in your way. If he wasn’t dead… then the only thing you could do was put as much distance between him and yourself as you could.

Slowly, your heart starts to calm and your breathing levels out. You were not out of this nightmare yet, but this was a good start. You even had clothes and shoes! Problem was that your legs felt like jelly and your adrenalin tank was coming up empty. You seemed fairly well hidden here. It was hardly ideal, but if you ran into any trouble, you were going to need to be able to run, or at least try and talk your way out of it. Right at this moment, you don’t think you could do either. You needed to rest while you could; it was your best chance of getting through all this.

Rolling the towel up into a ball, you ease yourself down between some of the thick reed stems and curl up with your makeshift pillow. You could feel the moisture in the ground seeping into your clothes, but it was hard to find the willpower to move now that you were down here. All you needed was ten minutes to catch your breath. A few moments before, you looked for a place to properly rest; somewhere dry, somewhere out of the way and hidden. You just needed to close your eyes for a second.


*Music for this scene*

Something draws you out of your sleep. A sound. Soft. Pleasant. Calling. Your eyes flutter open and, for a moment, you just let yourself drift toward the music. You don’t even realise you're standing and slowly making your way towards the haunting song. Your movements are slow, still fogged down in sleep as your body gently sways to the melody. It was so calming, brushing away all the fear. You knew if you found where it was coming from, you would be safe. You would be home.

There, in that cave- that’s where the music was coming from. It echoed along the walls, wrapping you in gentle notes from all sides. Nothing would find you here, nothing would hurt you. When you finally enter the cave, you see a glowing pool with water rippling down the walls behind it. In the middle of the sparkling pond sat the most beautiful creature you had ever seen.

She looked like a large fish, about the size of a punch bowl, with flowing blue hair. A small light bobbed and floated above, dancing to her soft movements like a personal spotlight. Her voice called to you, urging you to come closer, to just sit with her and listen. Her smile comforting but her eyes… she looked so sad. You didn’t want this beautiful creature to be sad. The water in front of you ripples as something beneath the surface moves. You take a step back, a look of confusion on your face, but your worries are soon brushed aside. There was no reason to be scared. You were safe here.

One of your hands moves forward. You wanted to touch the water. You wanted to feel how cool it was. You wanted to feel it against your skin. No one would find you here. Not if you hid beneath the surface. It would hide you away. Then you could listen to this beautiful music forever.

A flash of green pushes you away and forces you to close your eyes. You can hear thrashing in the water. A scream. The music has stopped and fear starts to creep back into your heart.

You clutch at your chest, expecting to feel your soul missing, but you still feel whole. No one had taken your soul, but… it felt like something had been trying to creep in. With fresh eyes, you are able to see just where you had been led to. The walls in the cave are coated in a thick green slime that glistened in the ethereal light. It gave off a putrid smell that reminds you of rotting seaweed. You don’t know what sort of magic had made you come here, but you did know you needed to get out. There was something very wrong with this place. The only problem was that the exit was currently being blocked by someone. Something.

“Shyren.” You didn’t recognise the voice of the one blocking your way, not that you had met many of the monsters down here, but they sounded male, their voice strangely reminding you of an old English teacher you’d once had.
“You should know better than to go messing with humans.” Your throat has gone dry as you back against the cave walls, your hands brushing against the fetid ooze and causing you to jerk back. You were in trouble. You were trapped in a tiny cave with two monsters… this was not going to end well. Where was Sans when you needed him? Oh right, you had left him burning alive in a collapsing cave.

The pool ripples again as something that reminded you of an eel breaks the water's surface. Its mouth is wide with fat lips hiding the tiny teeth that seemed to coat the inside walls like some sort of living garbage disposal.

“This has nothing to do with you, you stony old fossil.” The creature's voice sounded just as slimy as it looked.

“Better a stony old fossil than a blood-sucking leech. Shyren I thought I told you to fire this parasite of an agent months ago. You're better than this.”

The singing fish still sits in the middle of her pond, but she is no longer what you would call ‘beautiful’. Her hair is matted with the same slime as the walls, while her scales are warted and mottled. She still looks sad, her eyes set deeply into her face, but now she also looked embarrassed, trying to hide her face beneath her hair.

“She doesn't have to listen to you.” The water churned behind the eel creature.

“No, she doesn't. It’s your choice, Shyren. If you want to get dragged down by this pond scum, so be it. I just wonder what your sister would say.” The fish, Shyren, seems to give a soft cry before diving down into the water. Whatever the other monster was quickly swam after her, though not without shooting a dirty look at both you and the other monster. Speaking of which...

“You, follow me.” You could see the monster a little better now he had stepped out of the shadowed cave opening and into the lighter main cave. He looked mostly brown, leathery, with a neck too long for a human and a back humped and crooked. You move back, further into the cave.
“Unless you want to stay here?” Looking around, you realise that you really didn’t have a choice. You were pretty sure staying here would only lead to those other monsters coming back again. At least this one seemed okay… for now at least, and if he kept the other monsters away from you, then all the better. It didn’t look like he would be able to chase after you if you needed to run, not with those stubby legs.

With one last look around in case you missed some other way out, you follow after the strange… turtle. Your eyebrows disappear skywards. This monster was a big, two legged turtle with a beard, and for some reason he was wearing an old explorer's type hat and clothes. Maybe those old kids cartoons weren't so off the mark after all.

“Human, monster, doesn't matter what they are. The young never listen to their elders, always think they know what's best.” You follow after the turtle, more curious than anything. He just seemed so… relaxed, so normal. Well, other than the fact he looked like a turtle. He kind of reminded you of a crotchety old man always telling the kids to keep of his lawn. Still, maybe this was a bad idea, following after some strange monster. You could just walk away, turn down another path and...

A splash behind you makes you jump, but whatever caused the noise was gone when you turn around, the glowing water still showing signs of the disturbance.
“Keep dawdling kid, and something else will snap you up.” Deciding that maybe following this monster wasn’t the worst idea you had ever had, you quicken your pace to catch up.

“If you can’t keep up with this old turtle, then you really don’t stand a chance down here.” Quietly you apologize with a ‘sorry’, but your guide just gives a dismissive huff.

Twisting the red material of your t-shirt in your hands, you nervously try to keep watch as you walk. Shapes, ripples, the sound of something scraping against the ground or brushing against the reeds. This was not a safe place to be alone.

“Um… thank you.” You needed something to keep your mind off whatever was lurking in the shadows, so you may as well try to talk to your new ‘friend’. Again, the turtle only grumbled. Looked like you would need to try a little harder to get through his thick shell.
“I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t show up when you did, but…”

“Wa ha ha. Look kid, it wasn’t you I was saving.” You frown before quickening your pace a little more. For an ‘old turtle’, this guy could certainly move.
“Call it an educated guess, but I don’t think those bones around your neck are a new trend kids these days are wearing.” Your hand reaches up to rub at the string of bones as your head lowers and flushes with embarrassment.
“That's what I thought. So that means you’re involved with one of the brothers.” Brothers? Sans had a brother? He did have a family, then. You wonder why he hadn't wanted to talk about him before. You keep quiet; it was better to let the turtle talk.

“Those boys have a reputation. I was saving Shyren, not you.” So he was just stopping the singing fish from… doing whatever it was she was going to do so that she didn’t piss off either Sans or his brother? Well, don’t you feel special now.
“For all the good it does with the company she keeps, still, everyone has to be able to make their own mistakes.”

The two of you walk in silence for a bit longer, following the direction the streams and rivers flowed towards. The scenery doesn't change much along the way. It’s still beautiful but… it felt tainted now, linked to too many bad events.

“Here we are. Not much to look at but, then again, neither am I. Wa ha ha.” You were looking at a literal hole in the wall. Only the door and wooden counter identified the alcove to be anything more than another feature of the rocky cave.
“So kid, how did you end up on your own?” You freeze, a cold sweat washing over you.

“There was a cave-in.” You just had to stick to the truth. You had a feeling this turtle was smarter than he looked, but that didn’t mean you had to tell him the whole truth. Just the fact that the other monsters were keeping clear of him was reason enough not to let your guard down.

“Eh? A cave-in you say? That’s unusual. The caves down here are pretty sturdy.” He bangs a fist against one of the walls to emphasize his point. You step back a little, this guy was strong. The rock had not chipped, or broken, but you could feel the force he had put into that strike.
“So, which one is it? Papyrus or Sans?”

“Sans.” Just saying his name brought back the image of him writhing in pain. You want to take enjoyment at the sight, but you had never been a vengeful person. For all Sans had done, and for all you hated him, you would have never wished anything like that on him. Your hand strays over to rub at the gel-like covering on your burnt wrist. In his own twisted way, you did think he cared about you. Maybe.

“Not to worry then, that boy has a knack for getting out of tight spots.” You keep quiet. You didn’t know what Sans was capable of, but… you couldn’t imagine how anyone could have survived what you had seen.
“Come on.” You watch as the turtle fiddles with the door before opening it.
“I’ll go sort out some tea. Just don’t touch anything! I’ve finally got this place just the way I like it and I don’t need some kid poking their fingers through my stuff. Well, unless you have the gold to pay for it?” He turns and looks at you hopefully. You shake your head. He tutts.
“Typical. Well, just go sit over there and keep your hands to yourself.”

You watch the monster disappear into what you assume was his home, the door left open for you to follow. This was a bad idea. You had only just gotten away from a house of horrors, you didn’t need to be walking freely into another. Every monster you had met down here seemed to only want your soul and you saw no reason to think differently about this one.

Turning away from the door, you notice something pass in front of the glowing river ahead of you, its dark shape blocking out the light before it slinks back into the shadows. You take a step back to the door. Maybe the old turtle wasn’t so bad after all.

“Kiddo, I don’t care which side of it you choose to be on, just shut the damn door, you’re lettin’ all the heat out!”

With the door closed, and you on the inside of the ‘house’, you take a moment to look around. It was a mess. It wasn’t so much that the place was dirty, for a cave it was surprisingly clean, and everything you could see looked to be polished or in fairly good condition. The problem lay with just how much there was of everything! This turtle had a serious hoarding problem.

Navigating around the piles of neatly stacked bric-a-brac, you were mindful not to touch anything, mostly because you were afraid that one wrong move would send the mountains of stuff on top of you. Eventually, the turtle comes back to you, carrying two mugs of steaming liquid.

“You have a very nice place, er...Sir.” You should at least try to be polite, maybe it would dissuade him from whatever he had planned for you.

“That’s very nice of you to say, kid.” He hands you a mug. It’s green. So is the water inside, though you were hoping that was just because of the mug colour.
“But you don’t have to lie, I know my place is a junk heap.” He gestures to a pair of wooden chairs set next to a table. You grab one, thankful to finally be able to sit, as you watch him take his own seat on a stool he had pulled from the side. You guessed trying to sit on anything like a chair with a back would be near impossible when you have a shell.
“I can never seem to sell what I find before I find more stuff. And you know when you throw anything away that someone will come along wanting just that item. Wahaha. It’s like they always say. One monster’s junk is another monster’s treasure. I just wish I could find the right monster for all my junk.”

You’re not really sure what to say; this is just so surreal. Not the fact that you were sitting drinking tea with an anthropomorphic turtle, that seemed to be fairly normal down here. It was the fact that there were no threats, no veiled attempts at manipulation. What was weird was how nice and normal this all was. Maybe not all monsters were complete assholes.

You take a sip of the tea and scrunch up your nose a bit. It tasted stale and bitter, but it was hot and calming. You take a few sips to be polite, but have no intention to drink much more than that. It could be drugged or poisoned, or any number of things, but honestly you would prefer find out sooner rather than later if this was all a ruse from your host.

“So um… you don’t happen to know a way up to the surface, do you?” You may as well ask while you had a chance. So far this old turtle had been fairly chatty and forthcoming with information.

“Eh? The surface? You’re barking up the wrong tree there, kiddo. Only one who could take you up there is probably the head of the Freedom Guard himself, but it’s Papyrus’ job to bring humans down here, not let them go.”

You felt your heart stutter. There WAS a way to the surface! But only this Papyrus could get you there? That name. The turtle had mentioned him before.
"Papyrus? Didn't you say that was Sans' brother?"

“That’s him, but like I said, he is more into import than export.” The turtle chuckled to himself as he sipped his tea. You find yourself clutching at your cup harder. There had to be a way! Ugh, Sans! That lying sack of shit, he had said that they were all stuck down here and yet he was brother to the one monster that could take you home! You feel no regret in hoping that Sans was alive, and trapped in that little cave with no way out.

“I’m old enough to know what that face means kid. Just forget about trying to get to the surface. You’ll never make it.”

“I have to do something! I can’t stay down here! I can’t. I can’t. This place is killing me.” Had it been a week since you had gotten trapped down here? No, it had been less than that. Four days maybe? Were people still looking for you? They had to be, it had only been four days. What about the others trapped down here? What about Sweetpea? Maybe there was a way to get a message up to the surface? Something. Anything!
“Why are they doing this? What's the point in bringing humans down here? Is it the experiments? All anyone ever tells me is that Alphys is doing experiments on people, but why?”

The old turtle puts his cup down on the table and rubs at his beard.
“Monsters have been stuck down here for a long time, kid. I remember the surface, I’m one of the last old enough to be able to. I can still remember the warmth of the sun on my shell, but even that's a little hazy now.” You sat waiting as the turtle closed his eyes, his face relaxing as he remembered and spoke. Hopefully this story would lead you to the answer.

“Monsters lived alongside humans once. Not always peacefully but, we managed. It’s been so long now I’ve forgotten what kicked everything off, why the war started. Likely something stupid and petty. That's the way things normally go.” So all those stories, all those myths and legends, they were real? Or, at least, they had been based on real things, real events, real monsters.

“What happened next?” You were finally getting somewhere, you had information! You didn’t know what you could do with it yet, but it felt so good to know something.

“Wa ha ha… Kiddo, look around, it's not too hard to work out.” He gestures around… Oh, right, trapped. If the monsters were stuck down here, and had been for a very long time, then the war had clearly not gone in their favor.

“But you said Papyrus could get to the surface. Doesn't that mean others can too?” What was so special about Sans’ brother?

“Fat lot of good it would do them up there. We couldn't beat you when you were wielding nothing but swords and shields, you’ve moved on a bit since then.” Swords and shields? Just how old was this turtle?

“But that still doesn't explain all the experiments.” How would experimenting on humans help them against guns, bombs, drones and, heaven forbid, nukes? It didn’t make any sense. Unless they were trying to develop some sort of chemical warfare. A virus or toxin that only affected humans, not monsters.

“I can’t help you there, kid. I leave the sciency stuff to those better equipped.” Using a stubby finger, he tapped the hat sitting on his head. He sighs.
“Look, I don’t like them any more than you do kiddo. It’s not just humans getting put on the slab. I’ve lost friends to Alphys, good friends.” You watch his expression fall as he takes off his hat and places it on the table in front of him.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Isn’t there any way to stop her?” Maybe it wasn’t the monsters you had to fight against. Maybe it was just Alphys.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m done playing the hero. I was never very good at it anyway. I’ve lived a long time. I’ve seen what being stuck down here in the darkness has done to the monsters. It’s not right. They deserve to be up on the surface just as much as you humans do. Truth is, I don’t want to know what Alphys is doing in that lab of hers, but whatever it is it's giving hope to the rest of the monsters, and I think that might be worth the price.”

“Where does that leave me? Are… are you going to hand me over to Alphys?” That made sense, right? The reason he had brought you here, pretended to be your friend. You shift in your seat, cup in hand. You had to be ready to run.

“Like I said, I’m done playing the hero, and that goes for either side. All I can do is point you in the direction of the River person and they will take you to either Snowdin or Hotland. Where you go from there is up to you.” He stands and takes hold of both cups, yours still almost full.
“Rest up first. You look like you haven't slept in days.” He takes the cups back into the little room he had appeared from.

“I’m not sure if I have.” Relaxing a bit, you pillow your arms in front of you and rest your head in them. Were you really safe here? Maybe heading off now would be better, but then what? You knew Snowdin was back where Sans’ house was, but what about Hotland? Would that be a better option? Was Sans still alive? Was he looking for you? Maybe he had gone back home. If he had, then Snowdin was definitely out of the question. Besides, that's where Grillby was.
“What’s in Hotland?”

“Eh? What was that?” The turtle poked his head back round the corner.

“I asked what was in Hotland.”


“Oh…” You felt the colour drain from your skin. Was that really the only two options you had? Snowdin or Hotland? Sans or Alphys?
“Can’t I stay here?” Maybe you could help clean or sort his stuff out. Or you could just give him someone to talk to. Old people get lonely, right?



“Because at some point Sans will find out where his lost human has gotten to, and then there will be hell to pay. Sorry kid, but I haven’t survived this long without learning to pick my battles.”

“Is he really that strong?” Sure you knew he was strong, but strong enough to have other monsters afraid of him? Sans? He seemed like nothing but a lazy pervert.

“Probably only monster stronger would be his brother. Now that’s a fight I would NOT want to see. Well, not up close anyway. Wahaha.” You feel something drape across your back and flinch, but it was only a blanket the old monster had covered you with. You smile at him and tug it closer before returning back to resting your head in your arms.

“What do you think he wants with me?” Well, other than the obvious. Maybe he really was just lonely.

“I couldn’t tell kid. I don’t really know those two other than by reputation.” With over eight thousand monsters, you could understand that.

“What’s their reputation?”

“As a friend, you won’t find anyone better. As an enemy, you’re going to have a bad time.” Those were certainly sentiments you could attest to.
“Oh, and if you mess with one brother, you mess with them both.” You swallowed hard and feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. If Sans was dead, then…

“Do… do you know anywhere I could hide? Anywhere I could be safe?” You try to sound calm, but you can feel the panic creeping into your voice.

“Nowhere I…” A voice carries on the air, echoing against the walls.

“Sweet heart?” You freeze. You knew that voice. That was Sans! He wasn't dead! Shit, he wasn’t dead. The blanket on your back falls the the floor as you stand up quickly and look around in a panic. You didn’t have long and you knew you didn’t have the luxury to hope he would just pass you by.

“Come on little bird. Come home.” Was he getting nearer? You couldn’t tell. The echos were making it impossible to work out where his voice was coming from. You had to get out, you had to get away. If he found you, you knew you would never be able to get away again.

“Kiddo, the way I see it you’ve got two choices. You either run to him, or you run straight ahead, out the door until you reach the river. There should be a boat waiting for you there.” Your hand reaches the door handle before you even realize you have moved.
“But I warn you: if you run to the boat, don’t expect to ever stop running. If it's not Sans at your back, then it will be other monsters. Sometimes.” You hear the turtle sigh. He sounded old, so old you could believe that maybe he had seen centuries pass him by.
“Sometimes there are no good options.”

Chapter Text


Bright, searing pain.

Sans didn’t so much wake up but instead managed to fight through the wall of pain and gather enough of himself to produce some semblance of conscious thought.

“Mother of monsters, that fucking hurts!” It wasn’t a particularly useful or productive thought, but it did help him feel a little better. If he could curse, he was alive.

Dust filled the air, and for a moment, Sans felt his soul tighten in panic. He was lying on the floor, glowing moss barely able to illuminate the area due to the rain of debris and dirt that had coated it. The skeleton took a moment to collect himself before he tried to move. He quickly regret the action.

“FUCK!” His left arm. As soon as he tried to move it, there was only pain. Grinding his teeth together, Sans carefully turned his head to try and see the damage. It was not good. True, it could have been worse, but his humerus was fractured along the upper part of the bone. The cause of the damage? A large rock that still pinned his arm beneath it. Sans prayed to any god listening that the rest of his arm was still there.

Magic had already pooled around the area to stabilize the bone, but Sans could do little more than hold it together. He had to move.
“Sweetheart, ya mind giving me a hand?” Sans choked on a laugh, but as he fell quiet, he noticed that it was the only sound he could hear.
“Pet? Pet, ya there?” again, he was only met with soft echoes of his own words. Sans shifted, careful to avoid jostling his broken arm too much. His clothes and bones scraped along the floor as he crawled closer to the rock he was trapped under. He knocked twice against the tightly packed rubble, but only silence answered.

“Sweetheart? Come on, please. Say something.” Sans waited for an answer, every second stretching for eternity. He felt his soul pinch. Nononono, not like this.
“Come on human, anything! Hit a rock, make a noise. Pet… please.” Still there was nothing, not even the sound of running water. The skeleton lowered his skull to his free hand, his sockets closing as he accepted that whatever her fate, right now he was alone.
“Please, please be okay.” Shit, this was all his fault. He had really fucked up this time. He hoped his little bird had flown the coop, because if the rest of the cave was like this, then… Sans didn’t want to think about it. Why did humans have to be so damn fragile!

For all the strength they had in their soul, it took very little trauma to their physical bodies for them to break and die. A monster could survive most things, so long as their souls were left intact, but humans? Give them a hard enough blow to the head and that was it. They didn’t even have the decency to turn to dust, they just sort of stick around and… rot. Still, for all their weaknesses, humans could survive a lot more soul trauma than any monster could. Heartbreak, depression, even a strong bout of homesickness could cause a monster to fall down and eventually dust. Honestly, it all felt like some sort of cruel cosmic joke. The one joke even Sans found it hard to laugh at.

There was nothing he could do for the human right now, no matter what their fate. What he needed was to get out of this damn hole, and to do that, he would have to free his arm. Too bad he couldn’t use his magic on the rock. He could just turn it blue, change its gravity and voila, he would be free; but there was no soul to influence, nothing for his magic to target. So he would to have to do this the hard way and summon some bones to take the weight. If everything went well, then maybe he wouldn’t bring the rest of the cave down on top of him. Yay for positive thinking.

Sans tried to shut out the throbbing pain in his arm as he attempted to summon a couple of bones beneath the rock. There was very little space to work with, but his humerus was only fractured, not crushed, so there was still some room underneath the stone for the bones to materialize. It was agonizing work. Sans barely shifted the weight off his arm before a fresh wave of pain washed over him. It took all his strength not to drop the rock back down as the effort coated his skull with more residue magic.

After a minute, Sans managed to steady himself. His magic felt unstable, which was not all that surprising considering he had just somehow survived a magical overload. Just a little more and then he would be free. Well, free-er.

He tensed up, his right hand gripped tightly into a fist as he lifted the rock a fraction more. He felt like his arm was on fire, but at least he could feel his arm. Sans closed his sockets. This last bit was going to really suck.

The walls echoed with his pained shout. His form now curled and leaned against the solid back wall as he cradled his arm in his lap. It was still intact. It hurt to hell and back, but it was still all there. Sans let his skull fall against the wall as his magic flared and tried to stabilize along the bones. His humerus was fractured in three places near the top, and his last three digits were also badly fractured… but it was still all there.

Fuck. How the hell had he messed this up so bad? It had been going so well up till now. Hadn't it? She had been lowering her guard, pulling away less and less with every touch. Her soul had been harmonizing perfectly, learning how to work alongside his. Even if his little bird was reluctant, she was still willing and flexible enough to bend. She was also plenty flexible enough to do other things, too. Sans’ flickering smile soon turned to a wince as his magic reminded him he needed to focus on his arm, not other things. Why had he never properly learnt healing magic? Oh right… that would require effort.

“Stupid.” Sans scolded himself, his skull knocking against the wall. In one moment he had messed up everything. He had been impatient, greedy, and so sure he knew what he was doing that he didn’t even think of the risks. This whole day had been nothing but a disaster. They had almost lost Undyne at the lab… well, what little of Undyne there was left to lose. Sans was still unconvinced that the ‘thing’ Alphys was keeping alive was really a monster anymore. Papyrus still believed it was but, well, he still thought Alphys could somehow bring her back. Somehow ‘fix’ the King, somehow fix everything. Sans wished he could have hope like that. He wished he could see the bright future his brother could. The truth was, he almost could when he saw how that bright purple soul had reached out when he’d returned to Grillby’s.

He was still pissed that Grillby had burned them. Sans knew full well what he did with the other humans, but this was different. Those… things, were barely human anymore, just shadows, echoes of what they were before. They didn’t really feel or think, they just kept on living, kept on breathing, a mockery of life. But not his little bird. She was strong, and all his. She was the key to everything, he knew it, he felt it. Together they could do anything. She would give him the power he needed to wipe every last human off the surface, then the world would be safe. It would finally be perfect. No more hiding in the dark. No more fighting for scraps. No more worrying that his brother will go too far and get himself hurt. No more seeing Alphys turn to more and more desperate experiments as the hope starts to run out in more and more monsters.

He just wanted to see everyone free, happy and safe. To have a chance at a life that was not about being the strongest or the scariest. And in one moment, he had fucked it all up. His magic was going to need some serious recharge after this purge. His arm was busted and needed healing, something Papyrus was not going to like one bit, and to top it all off his human was either dead or running off to who knows where. Well done, Sans. Good fucking job.

“Welp, I’m not going to get very far stuck in this pit.” Pushing back at his self-deprecation, Sans slowly stood up and tried to get a handle on his magic. It would do him no good to try and take a shortcut and have his magic short out halfway through. That would be a very quick way to end his very bad day. While his magic felt stable enough, if a little off, Sans didn’t want to risk stepping out anywhere near the cave. There was no way of knowing what sort of state the area would be in after the cave in, and his magic was still too weak for him to make any adjustments on the fly. Instead, he followed one of his normal routes and stepped out at the Waterfalls sentry station.

Sans quickly realised he had misjudged just how stable his magic was when the effort sent him clutching at the wooden outpost to avoid collapsing.
“Damnit!” He was a fucking wreck right now, but it was still a miracle he was alive at all, and for that he was thankful. He looked down at his arm, the red of his magic tainting the surface and glowing stronger in the cracks of the bones. His sockets narrowed.
“What the hell?” Red was not the only colour he could see. Thin threads of purple wove in and out of his magic effectively binding his fractures together in a faint lacework of violet while his own magic worked on the slow process of healing the damage. Sans’ sockets slowly widened. He knew what he was looking at, he just couldn’t believe it. Was this… was this even possible?

Back in the cave, he hadn't planned to push her that far. It was just... after seeing Undyne, after hearing his brother promise to triple the human capture rates, he had needed to do something, anything, to prove to himself that there was still hope. That what he was doing would work, and soon, because right now he felt like his world was circling a drain. If things didn’t change fast, it wasn’t a case of if they fell, but when.

Maybe things would have been different if he had waited till the next day, waited till everyone had slept. That had been the plan after all, but after seeing what Grillby had done, after being lied to, Sans had been ready to break something. It hadn't helped that his pet had been a little more… defiant, than she had before, her soul prickling defensively in a way he had not seen from her. It worried him. Worried him that Grillby had somehow managed to ruin his work, or at the very least, force him to go over ground he had already covered. He had been relieved when she had fallen back into her calmer, more submissive, state; and he had been more than happy with the following activity he had used to cement it. Who knew humans could have so many uses? Sure, he had read about that particular skill on the net but wow, that was definitely an activity he was going to have to revisit more than a few times.

Things would have been fine if she hadn’t gone back to being all closed off and prickly again. He had actually felt her try to lash out! It also didn’t help that he could still smell smoke all over her, even without the clothes. It wasn’t so much that he could smell Grillby, it was just that he could smell the ambiance of the place on her. Normally it wouldn’t bother him, he spent enough time there himself. It was just that it kept reminding him of what had happened, what might have happened. He knew at that point that if he was going to get any sleep with them so close, then he had to get rid of the smell.

The walk through Waterfall had been… nice, calm. Civil, even. The aggression had stopped and she had even started to harmonize again. Sans had been surprised at her sudden interest in the Underground, in the monsters, in him. But the conversation seemed to help keep her calm and open. Then, in the cave, with her soul in his hands, he’d felt so alive, so powerful, being able to stroke and manipulate something that could very well kill him with little effort. The best of it was that her soul hadn’t fought him, in fact it had glowed brighter with his touches. He could feel how powerful it was resting against his bones, like static, like fire. Its raw energy was so different from monster magic. It made him feel stronger, like he could do anything. Had he been a little drunk on the power? Maybe. He had just never felt anything like it before and… he had wanted more.

He knew she wasn’t ready. That he was pushing her too far, too fast, but he just couldn’t stop and then…

Sans pulled himself over to the wooden chair that rested next to the outpost. His arm still cradled to his chest as he brought his other hand to hover just above the fractures. He was shaking. His bones rattled as he slowly came to realise just what had happened.

He had thought her soul had attacked him! That he had finally pushed too hard and it had rejected him. But these threads… they were from her soul, they were what was left the energy he had purged, and they were probably what had kept his bones together, what had saved his arm. They couldn’t heal, no more than he could at least, but… they showed that her soul had harmonized enough for her perseverance to work alongside his own magic!

Sans gave a relieved laugh, his right hand reaching up to rub the magic residue from his face.

The ‘attack’ had just been an overload, he realised that now. If she had really attacked him with that much force then he would have been dust. He… he had done it! He was able to tap into and use the human’s energy! Okay, sure, she had practically flooded his magic with her own, causing him to have to burn through the excess at a rate that had almost ripped him apart but, it was progress - right? The simple fact that he HAD survived such an overload was amazing in itself. Of course he would need to conduct more tests, make sure he didn’t end up suffering any backlash from tapping into the energy, but… wow. If he’d had more control, if he had been able to limit the amount of energy he could draw on at any one time… fuck! He really had done it!

The smile on his face suddenly dropped as he looked around. Oh he had done it alright, and probably lost the human in the process. Fuck! He had to find her. He had to find her NOW! Sans used a little more of his magic to bind his arm to his chest. Healing might not be his strong point but he could do this much at least.

“Don’t be dead, don’t be dead, please don’t be dead!” Sans was moving as fast as he could, retracing the path back to the cave, but as he came to a junction he felt something leading him a different way. He stopped, tried to focus on what he was feeling, before changing his destination. The bones. He could feel the bones he had made, the ones around her neck. It had to be her. She was safe. She had to be. NO monster would mess with anything that clearly belonged to either himself or his brother. Not if they valued their life. Everything was okay. He would find her and everything would be good and safe and where they need to be. He just had to find her.

He was being lead further into Waterfall, closer to the more inhabited areas. He kept his guard up while also trying to hide the fact his arm was busted up to all hell. Monsters knew not to mess with him or his brother… but monsters also got desperate from time to time.

“Sweet heart?” As he felt himself getting closer, Sans started to call out. His soul instinctively tried to reach out to her as he did so, to give her something to find him with. She would come back to him. She had to. She had to understand that he was the only one who could keep her safe down here.

“Come on, little bird. Come home.” Where was she?! Surely he was close enough by now. Was she hiding from him?

“Please sweetheart. I just want to know you’re okay.” Wait, that was the old turtle’s place. As soon as Sans recognised the residence, the door opened. He felt his soul jump when he saw her. She was alive. Her head peered round the door until she saw him, eyes going wide. She… she looked scared. He couldn’t get a good read on her soul, not this far away.

Sans stepped forward, one arm open at his side, beckoning her to come over to him.
“I thought… I thought I’d lost ya. Sweetheart. I was so scared I’d never see ya again.” Sans could see the fight of emotions on her face. Was she going to run? She couldn’t run. She couldn’t leave him. Not now. Not when he was so close to fixing everything!

“Please sweetheart, come home. I promise, everything will be different now. Please, don’t leave me alone. I need you.” Sans took another step, his soul reaching out painfully as he tried to feel anything from her. Then, like a feather, he felt her own soul reach out and touch against his. Slowly she eased herself from the doorway, every step looking like it physically took more effort than the last. It was only when she stood right in front of him, her head bowed to look at her feet and her arms crossed tightly across her chest, that Sans felt he was able to move without her bolting.

His arm curled around her back as he cradled her against his bones. He felt her stiffen before she eventually relaxed and let out a sigh.
“I got ya, sweetheart. I got ya.” Sans cooed as he pressed the brow of his skull against the top of her hair.
“Ya safe now. Everything is going to be alright.” Sans knew what he needed to do now. This was his chance to fix everything, to save his brother, to save everyone. He would be the angel to set monsterkind free, and his little bird, she was going to give him the wings he needed to do it.

Chapter Text

You clutch onto the door handle hard enough to turn your knuckles white as you try to steady yourself. You were shaking. Was he right outside? Maybe it would be better to stay on this side of the door. No. He would find you and then you would be trapped. Would Sans blame Gerson? Probably. If you wanted to get away, you had to run. The river. The old turtle had said it was right ahead. Sans couldn't track you on the river, right? Could skeletons even swim? Stupid question, it didn't matter. This was your only chance.

“Please, sweetheart. I just want to know you’re okay.”

You hate the fact that you feel your heart twist at those words. You shouldn't be feeling sorry for this monster, but he really did sound upset. It was a surprise to realise that he might really care about you. Maybe Sans had some sense knocked into that thick skull of his in the cave, but would it make any difference? You would still be trapped, still be forced. After everything Sans had done to you, after what he had done in the cave, he deserved to be miserable.

Pushing the door open, you continue to hold the handle, keeping the thick slab of wood close like a shield. Your head nervously pokes out and scans the dark cavern. You felt like a little mouse, which would make Sans the cat. There. You could see the glow of the river up ahead. You just had to reach it and then... you see him. Sans is standing a little further up one of the caves that linked into this chamber. Close… too close. He looked like a ghost with the way his bones glowed in the cyan light. He smiles when he sees you, the lights in his eyes glowing brighter.

“I thought… I thought I’d lost ya. Sweetheart. I was so scared I’d never see ya again.”

You try to ignore Sans. You couldn't listen to him, he knew how to twist your thoughts and mess with your head. The river was within your sights... but so was Sans. Shit! You had to run. You had to run now! Maybe you could reach the river, the boat and then... then what? Where would you go? Hotland, the place Alphys was? Hell no. That was the very definition of ‘out of the frying pan, into the fire’. But you had to get out, you had to escape, you had to find SOME way to get to the surface.


The name echos in your thoughts. Gerson had said he was the only one who could get you back to the real world, back to where everything was normal, where everything down here would just become some sort of twisted nightmare that would vanish in the sunlight. But the only way you knew to get to Papyrus was... Sans.

“Please sweetheart, come home. I promise, everything will be different now. Please, don’t leave me alone. I need you.”

No! It was a stupid idea. Sans would never let you go once he got his claws into you again. You would spend your days as nothing more than a pet, a whore, a doll for him to play with. But what were your other options? You could run around like a headless chicken until something else snapped you up, or worse. What… what if Sans caught you and... punished you for running? A shiver passes down your spine. You had to be smart about this, and quick. The goal was to get to the surface, but to do that, you needed Papyrus. Sans was a direct link to him. So...

Slowly, you remove your hand from the door. Without thinking, your arms wrap tightly around your chest to protect your soul. You could still run. You should run! Sans would never let you go after all this, and even Gerson thought it would be impossible to get this 'Papyrus' to help you.

You take a step towards Sans, and then another.

But it was still a chance, which was a lot more than you had ever had since ending up down here. At least you knew what to expect with Sans, you knew he would keep you alive and safe, even if it came at a cost, and was for his own sick pleasure. Maybe you were just weak. You haven't even been stuck down this hell hole for a week and yet you were willing to return to this monster for some sense of safety and security.

Your feet felt like lead and your head hangs low. You couldn't look at him. You couldn't look at that smug bastard's face and see him smiling as you willingly walk back to him. Back to that house, that cage. Hard bones brush against the skin of your arms as you walk, reminding you of the belt still wrapped around your neck. Part of you is screaming, clawing at your thoughts to run. It was too late to change your mind now though, wasn't it? Your feet keep walking as your mind keeps warring with itself. It's almost a relief to actually reach Sans, the choice finally taken away from you.

You tense as his arm wraps around your back, gently drawing you closer to his grit covered chest, but then the tension just seems to melt away. Your thoughts fade, and for the first time in ages, you feel yourself able to relax. To not worry, or fight, or be on constant guard. You know you should be angry, or at the very least frustrated, but right now, you're just tired. You don't have the energy to fight, and you know it would do you no good even if you did. Papyrus. You were doing this to get to Papyrus so you could get home.

“I got ya, sweetheart. I got ya.” Sans leans in and holds you closely, his skull nestling into your hair. You can feel the cage closing but, for now, you welcome it. You welcome the protection it gave you from the rest of the underground, from the fear that clutched at your heart and the impossible choices that had been forced on you. You didn't belong here! You shouldn't have to deal with any of this!
“Ya safe now. Everything is going to be alright.” Your eyes and nose prickle and pinch, and your face grows wet. You don't know why you're crying but you don't try to stop. You hate this... but right now, you need this.

You are not sure how long you would have clung to the comfort offered if Sans had not suddenly pulled away and given a strained gasp and curse. You risk looking at him and notice that he was more than a little worse for wear. His clothes were dusted with dirt and grit, and he was holding his left arm awkwardly against himself. It felt… wrong to see him like this. He had always seemed so… indestructible, completely beyond anything that could hurt him, but like this… he looked vulnerable. Maybe you could still run. Would he be able to follow you in this condition? The thoughts pull at you, call you to take action. Sans clearly sees you looking at him, at his arm.

“Don’t worry pet. It’d take more than a little cave in ta dust me. I thought-” A bony hand reaches out and strokes your cheek.
“I thought I’d lost ya.” You knew it was stupid to believe anything this monster said, but the way he said it, the look on his face... you had no choice to believe that he’d felt something at least. The pained expression passes and Sans stands a little straighter; you can’t help but notice a strange translucent blood oozing around his fingers. That did not look good. It wasn’t dripping or acting like blood, but instead it sort of twisted and shifted around his bones. You felt ill just looking at it. Was it wrong to want to help? To even the score after Sans had taken care of your burn? The problem was you didn’t know how. He was a skeleton, where was this blood… stuff even coming from? You didn’t know anything about monsters… but you knew someone that might.

“Maybe… maybe Gerson can help? He’s this old turtle monster -”

“Sweetheart I’m okay, a little rest and I will be as good as new.” Bullshit. You realise now that it would take a lot for Sans to show any sort of pain or weakness around anyone, least of all you, so he was clearly worse than he looked. It wasn’t that you really wanted to help Sans. In fact, you should be happy that he was suffering after everything he had put you through, but he had saved your life… a few times, and in his own twisted way he did sort of care for you, certainly a lot better than Grillby or Alphys. Maybe this was a way you could reduce your debt to him? He felt like he owned you because he had saved your life, right? It was a ridiculous idea, one you are sure Sans would get a good laugh out of, but it felt wrong not to try. Maybe things with Sans could be different, more civil, you just had to offer the olive branch first.

Turning away, you cup your hands to your mouth.

“Gerson, Sans is hurt!” Sans rests his good hand on your shoulder and pulls you back, but his arm must be giving him more trouble than you had first thought, because you managed to duck out of his grip. You see the old turtle’s head poke out from the door. It was still open, he was likely going to complain about that at some point.

“Eh? That’s not my problem kiddo. I don’t get involved, remember?” He shoos you off with an arm. Sans recaptures your shoulder and holds it tighter this time.

“You helped me.” You were not about to give up yet.

“Already told you. I didn’t help you. Get lost, kid.”

“But if you help him won't he owe you, like, a favor, or something.” This causes Gerson to pause but it also causes Sans to growl in a none too happy manner. Shit, you were only trying to help, but Sans didn’t seem to appreciate it judging by the glare he was now giving you. The thing was, despite his protests, he wasn’t moving. Was he actually considering accepting help from Gerson?

The turtle in question was now standing outside next to his door. His arms were crossed and he looked like he was chewing on something sour with the way his face was scrunched up.
“Kiddo said there was a cave in.”

Sans shifted his feet a little and you wondered if he was just going to leave. His hand still gripped your shoulder but the fingers had worked their way to the bone collar before slowly starting to reel in the rest of the length. So much for that small spark of hope that he was going to take the damn thing off.
“Bathing cave along the main Falls caven, cold wall, first outcrop.”

“Seems unlikely.”

“Ya callin’ me a liar?” You wince as Sans carelessly jerks on the string of bones around your neck. If Gerson wasn’t going to help, then he could at least not annoy Sans any more than he already was. Both monsters were happy to ignore you and keep their full attention on each other, which made you really uncomfortable being stuck in the middle.

“Wouldn't dream of it.” Gerson continues to look Sans over before you notice a slight shift in his wrinkled expression.
“So, how bad?” He didn’t sound concerned, just… interested. The old monster had thankfully lost the snappiness to his tone. Sans is quiet for a short while before he finally responds.

“Few fractures, nothing I can’t handle.” Big, bad and bony was still acting defencive, like a few fractures was something he could just brush off. You might not know much about monsters, but you were betting fractured bones were not something you could just heal with a bandaid and a bowl of soup. Particularly when all you had was bones. Gerson agreed with your sentiments.

“Drop the tough act and get inside. I’ll see what I can do.” You turn and try to at least give a hopeful smile to your captor, but he just continued to scowl and hold you closer to him as you both slowly made your way back to the house. While you had partially come to terms with your current need to stay with Sans to aid your future return to the surface, it didn’t stop you from looking towards the bright glow that was the river. This was the right thing to do, right? Running would just lead to more pain, but that didn’t stop you from feeling like you had tied a noose around your own neck and then handed it to Sans with a little bow.

Sans and Gerson continued to peck at each other as you all make your way inside the house.
“Ya sure ya know what ya doing?”

“More than you do from the looks of that hash job. You don’t fight in a war without learning a few things about healing.” Sans just huffed before tensing up again as you guess another wave of pain hit him.

“Sit down before you dust. Kids today, no sense.” Gerson continues to grumble complaints as Sans sits in the seat you had previously occupied. Unfortunately he also dragged you down to sit on his lap. Gerson was about as happy with the arrangement as you were.

“I can’t work with the human in the way.” Sans gives another growl, holding you a little tighter to his chest. Sure, he had might have thought you were dead a few moments ago, but this clinginess was really starting to scare you.
“Oh stop that, they’re not going anywhere. Just stand at the side or something.” Sans huffs, saying something you can’t quite catch under his breath, but you feel him loosen his hold on you enough to slip off his lap. His good arm stays firmly in place around your hip so you end up crushed close up against his side.
“Will you sit still!” You can’t help the small snigger that leaves you, not from your mouth but through your nose. Sans gives your hip a slightly harder squeeze which you recognise as a warning. While you couldn't be sure, you were willing to bet that having Gerson here would not stop Sans from making sure you stayed in line.

“Is this going to take long?” Sans clearly wanted to get back home as soon as possible and… you kind of felt the same. Just the thought of a bed to sleep in was making you tired. Other than a few naps here and there, the last time you had slept properly was... shit, it was all the way back before you were at Grillby’s. No wonder you were tired. You just had to hope that Sans was too tired and too hurt to want to do anything else, though judging by how he was holding you, it was going to be another night spent in his clutches.

“Look, do you want a crooked arm or not?” Sans just grumbled again and carefully moved so Gerson had better access to his damaged arm. It didn’t look good. There was more of that red stuff around the top. Gerson didn’t seem happy with it either by how closely he was looking at it. You watch as his eyes narrowed before he looked at Sans and then, surprisingly, at you. Sans shifts his head to block the turtle’s gaze.

“Ya going to bind it or ya just gonna stare?” You did not like the tone Sans was using, even if it wasn’t directed at you for a change. Gerson thankfully got the message and simply made a disapproving sound before moving his hands to rest next to where the red gloop was. You only had a few moments to wonder what he was going to use to dress Sans’ arm when a green mist starts to fall from his hands and wrap around the red stuff.

… What?

You really shouldn’t be shocked by things anymore but this was… you were not even sure what this was. Magic? Sure, why not. The thousand year old talking turtle was using magic to fix a living skeleton that thought he owned you. Yup, makes perfect sense. If you ever get back to the surface, you were going to need to be careful what you said or you would end up with your own private padded room and all the happy drugs you could ever want.

You feel Sans relax a little, or at least he didn’t feel like a coiled spring ready to snap, so whatever Gerson was doing was working. The turtle soon finished on his arm and was now working on his phalanges, each one getting coated in that strange green light before he bound them all together. A yawn sneaks up on you as you watch, and Sans leans his head against your arm. It looked like you were not the only one that was tired.

“There we go, that should hold it. Couple of days and your magic should have everything fixed.” Gerson rolled his shoulders and brushed his hands together, they sparked for a moment before returning to normal. Slowly Sans shifts his arm about, testing its limits. It’s clearly still tender with the way he was carefully moving it, but it looked much more solid with the thin green membrane surrounding whatever that red stuff was.

“Err, thanks.” Sans was clearly not used to saying those words.
“Look Gerson, I’d rather no one find out about this, any of this. Capeesh?” Sans was asking, not threatening, which made a nice change.

“Whaha, I can guess why.” The turtle’s eyes turned to you again before Sans stood up and placed himself directly in the way. Okay, this was getting weird. Did Gerson just want to piss Sans off or something? He hadn’t shown you any sort of interest when you had been here before, but suddenly with Sans here, it was like he was trying to solve a puzzle. You were clearly missing something here. Maybe you could ask Sans later. Right now it seemed better to keep quiet.
“Keep your skull on, I have no interest in getting involved in… whatever this is, but I expect you to remember that you owe me.”

“Just put it on my tab.” You got the feeling that Sans said that a lot with the way the words just rolled off his, well, off whatever constituted as a tongue for him.

“You don’t have a tab here.”

“I do now.” Sans sounded pleased with himself as he started to head towards the door.
“Come on sweetheart, it's time we head home.” ‘Home’... not the word you would use to describe the place, but you were almost looking forward to seeing that old sofa. After everything you had been through, you had had just about enough ‘new’ to last a lifetime. If you didn’t need to get back to the surface, you would likely never leave those four walls again.

‘Home’, however, seemed like it was going to have to wait as your walk towards the exit was abruptly stopped by a glowing green wall. You recognised the colour and turn to look back at Gerson. He had one of his arms extended and filled with the green light while a stony expression sat on his face.
“Oh no you don’t.”

“Fuck off, I do what I want.” Sans actually lets go of you as he walks over to the old turtle, he had no problem in solving things with force. Gerson, to his credit, stood his ground, crossing his arms and clearly unimpressed by the display.

“Just try me. You are in no condition to travel. You’re tired, hurt, drained, and dragging a human about. I am not about to stand by while you get dusted because you’re too thick-skulled to realise your limitations.” The two stand firm and stare down each other before Sans starts laughing.

“Heh heh. Aww Gerson, ya really just a softshell ain’t ya. Ya care about me that much.”

“Of course not, but your favour is no good to me if I’m sweeping you off the ground the next time I go for a walk. You can both leave once you’ve had a few hours’ sleep.” Sleep here? But there wasn’t any bed, and it was kind of cold and damp. Sure, you had bigger things to worry about but at least, up until now, Sans had been somewhat accommodating with making sure you had somewhere to sleep. Said monster didn’t seem to mind the change of plans too much and was already flopping down into an old red chair that had been quietly molding in the corner of the junk.

“Sure, whatever.”

Gerson looks like he was about to say something, but must have thought better of it as he soon turns and leaves the two of you alone in his junk room.

“Sweetheart.” Sans practically purrs the nickname as he settles himself into the plush padding. You were a little afraid the chair was going to collapse with the way it was creaking. Grabbing the blanket that Gerson had given to you before, you make your way over to him. Unsurprisingly, he is quick to hook his arm around you and pull you into his lap. You try to angle yourself so that you don’t fall against his left side, but Sans didn’t appear too put out when you end up on top of him.

The bag of bones shifts to tuck you against his right side, your legs hanging between his and your head held against his chest.
“Sans, this is not very comfortable. Sans?” Tilting your head up, you can just make out his sockets were closed and his breathing had softened.
“Oh come on.”

Chapter Text

Sans was not comfortable to lie on. Even less so when he was only covered in shorts and a t-shirt. You also couldn’t help notice that both items of clothing were coated in grit and dirt, but considering what had happened that was hardly surprising. Even with all that going against him you had to acknowledge he was warm, and his presence was oddly reassuring (as much as you hated to admit that little detail). With so many unknown monsters and dangers down here, it was a relief to only have to worry about one. Though considering he was currently clutching at you like a child with a teddy bear, it would be very hard to worry about anything else.

Cool damp air brushes along your exposed legs. The blanket you had snatched up lay loosely draped over Sans, but due to your arms being trapped under bones, there was no chance of getting yourself covered. Another gust of air against your skin draws a shiver from you. Sans seems to feel your slight movement and tucks you closer, his head nuzzling into your hair. So much for things being different. Nothing had changed. Even in his sleep the bastard only ever thought about himself and his comfort, and as always, you were stuck complying. You let out an annoyed huff but feel yourself relax. There was nothing you could do right now, so there was no point getting angry about it; it would just make you more frustrated. You had, for lack of a better phrase, made your bed when you chose to return to Sans-- now you had no choice but to lie in it, bones and all. Sleep didn’t come easily, but it did come eventually.

You are not sure how long you slept for, but it was long enough that your tiredness had waned to a point where your uncomfortable position took precedent. The process of waking up was not pleasant, but by now you were kind of used to that. Sans had shifted in the night… day… time you had been sleeping, so you were now wedged much further into one corner of the chair. A curled, bony leg served as a very comfortable pillow for your ass, while your own legs were draped over his other femur. By some miracle, Sans was no longer cuddling you, but instead mirroring your position so that he sat with his spine neatly fitting into the opposite chair corner, head tilted down slightly in sleep. His damaged arm rested on your thigh for support, though the fact that the two undamaged phalanges were sitting just under the material removed any sympathy you had for his injury. His right hand wasn’t touching you directly, but it was tangled at the bottom of the over sized shirt you were wearing.

You were stuck. Fidgeting would do nothing other than wake Sans and, while you were sure that you were not going to be able to get back to sleep, you could at least enjoy some time without bony being awake. It was about as close as you could get to time away from him right now, and judging by the way he had kept clinging to you yesterday (it was yesterday, right?), you doubted you were going to get much peace for a while.

It was weird being this close to Sans and for there to be no… fight? Tension? Fear? You were not sure what word really fit. When you were around Sans, you always felt on edge, carefully trying not to step out of line while also trying to test how far you could push. Without that conflict you felt... calm? Content, maybe? Your emotions were so battered and bruised that you hardly knew what you were really feeling most of the time. This was good though, for however long it lasted.

Being able to look at Sans without him looking back was certainly a new experience. This close you were able to notice small details that otherwise you would miss or ignore. Like the way that, though he seemed to breathe, you couldn’t feel any breath coming from him. Or how, even in this relaxed state, he still had a smile on his face. He was just so… weird. He looked like bone, his entire face looked like it was nothing but bone and teeth, but bone couldn’t flex and move like his was able to.

Monsters. Everything about them was so outside of what you knew, outside what you thought was real. They shouldn’t exist. They should not be scientifically possible, let alone walking and talking. It threw your entire life's worth of education and understanding completely out the window. What else didn’t you know? What about gods? Aliens? Magic? Other worlds? Anything was possible now, and that one thought scared you to such an extent you could almost feel your heart stutter as you edged closer to a meltdown.

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, backing away from the rim with each exhale till you felt you had a firmer grip. Panicking would not help. One problem at a time. You had your plan. You just had to get to the surface. Everything would make sense again when you got up there. You just had to find a way to use Papyrus to get you home. That in itself was a problem. You knew nothing about him, other than the fact that he was really strong, and he was Sans’ brother. Both truths made you feel wary about dealing with him. What if he was worse than Sans? Didn’t Gerson say that he was the one that brought humans into the Underground? Did that mean he worked with those werewolves? With Alphys? Shit. You were really starting to rethink your plan of getting above ground through him… but how else?

Maybe you should just talk to Sans, try to make him understand how wrong this all was. A nice, civilized conversation between two adults. Who knows, maybe this was just how things worked for monsters, the way they ‘did’ things. You could just explain to him that if he really cared, he should let you go. You look back at Sans and then down at the hand gripping onto a knotted ball of the fabric you were wearing. You really would have to accept you were insane if you thought that plan was going to work.

Sans began to shift, his sockets opening slowly and revealing the glowing coals that made up his eyes. For a moment you panic and wonder if you should pretend to be asleep, or maybe try to get out of the chair before he was fully awake. In the end, you just feel yourself trying to sink deeper into the chair. The action was less than successful.

You watch as the bone carved face moves to blink a few times and look around, likely to try and remember where he was. Eventually, his eyes settle on you. You feel something akin to a deep thrum coming from his chest, like a purr that was almost too low for you to hear. He smiles, sockets closing again as he leans in. You tense, expecting him to get very handsy, only to jump when he suddenly jerks back and curses, the boney leg beneath you pulling away and finally giving your poor tush a chance the rest against the cushion.

“Shit. FUCK!” He continues to growl as he clutches his arm to his chest. He must have forgotten it was damaged when he went to ‘cuddle’. You are not sure if you should feel sorry or delighted for Sans’ pain, but for once things are actually going your way. After all, you had just managed to avoid a morning grope. Gerson had said it would take a few days for Sans’ arm to heal, which was a hell of a lot quicker than any human with those types of injuries. So what did that equate to? Maybe two days’ respite? Three if you were lucky. You doubted you were lucky.

“Do… do you want me to get Gerson?” You needed to capitalize on this. Extend the olive branch. Show him you were not just a fuck toy. Unfortunately, as always, your luck had already run out.

Sans turns his skull to you quickly. His eyes flash red as he snaps.
“Why? Do you know where to fucking find him? Maybe he gave you a tour while you were happily holed up here and I was clawing through rubble.”
You shrink back and shake your head. So much for the olive branch; you might as well have handed him a willow switch for that strike. Mr. Grumpy Bones turns his back on you and stands up.
“I don’t need that old git’s help.” Now he just sounded like a child throwing a temper tantrum. You would ask him to act his age but, well, you don’t really know how old he was. He was clearly younger than Gerson, but that didn’t really narrow it down much.

The silence between the two of you intensifies, like gas filling a room. One spark and you knew everything would go up in flames. Well, there goes your hope for things being easier while he was hurt. Sans clearly had a very short fuse while he was in pain, something you would have to be careful around. Should you apologize? You fold your arms across your chest and push the thought away. There was no reason for you to apologize. You’d just asked if he needed any help. He was the one who had lost his cool. A few beats pass before anything more is said.

“Shit. Sweetheart, I’m sorry.” His apology caught you unaware, mostly because this was Sans. Sans didn’t apologize. Did he? It certainly seemed like he was being sincere.
“I didn’t mean to bite ya head off, I’m just… damn. Been a rough day.” You watch as he runs his right hand over the top of his skull, the soft sound of bone scraping on bone the only thing breaking the silence between the two of you. He might have had a bad day, but you had had a bad week - and he was the cause of most of it! So if he was looking for sympathy, he was not going to find it from you.
“Aww, come here.” The skeleton turned to look at you, a soft smile on his skull as his one good arm opened to welcome you into a hug. He sounded so sorry for his earlier tone, for the way he had snapped at you. Was he honestly trying to be nicer? Could he really change?

You remain seated, unsure of this sudden change in demeanor, while also hoping that it was real. That things really could be different. That-

“Pet. I said come here.” And there it was, Sans was back to his normal condescending self. You try to hide your seething frustration as you stiffly pull yourself out of the chair and walk to his side. His arm hooks around your waist as soon as you get near enough and you let him drag you closer.

“That’s my good girl.” His skull finds the crook of your neck quickly. You hate the praise. In fact, you wanted to show him just how much you were not his girl, but you also didn’t want to relight that fuse. You’d only gotten a taste of what Sans could do when he got really angry, and you had no desire to experience it again. You had to play it safe. You had survived Sans so far, you just had to do it for a little while longer.
“Come on little bird, let's go home.”

“But, Gerson-”

Sans’ voice drops an octave and you feel the grip on your waist tighten.
“Sweetheart. Mention the turtle one more time and that soul of yours will be spending the rest of the day locked in my room. Capeesh?” You nod, your throat feeling like it has filled with cotton wool. Sans, however, did not seem happy with your reply.
“No, pet. I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you say ‘Yes Sans’.”

“Yes Sans.” There is no hesitation as you give him what he wants. Words were cheap and painless, most of the time, and you knew he would make good on his threat if you gave him any reason to. Thankfully his grip on you relaxes and his smile widens.

“Good.” He purrs, satisfied with your obedience. “Now let's go home.” As Sans walks, you are forced to move along side him. Fear tries creep into your heart as you move, but you try as hard as you can to hold it at bay. You were still alive and unhurt. With Sans you at least knew what to expect. For all the twisted things he had put you through, and was bound to keep putting you through, you at least felt confident that you would remain in one piece. So long as you kept him happy.

“Open the door for me sweetheart.” For a moment you turn and look at Sans, confusion written on your face. He wanted you to-, then you glance at his hurt arm and the request made sense. He clearly didn’t want to let go of you right now (or maybe ever) and his other was out of action. Avoiding any more hesitation, and thus Sans’ ire, you do as you're told and help with the door. It felt weird to be doing something for Sans, well something as mundane as opening a door. It felt good. Like you had a tiny sliver of control back.

As you step through the doorway, the air seems to prickle. It reminded you of when a limb falls asleep, except right now it was everywhere. The odd sensation distracts you for a moment before your foot suddenly finds the ground was not where it was meant to be. Unable to make sense of what was happening, your eyes instinctively close as you brace for impact. Sans pulls you to take another step and, to your relief, you feel the ground meet you normally. The only problem was that when you opened your eyes… you felt like you were still falling.

“What? Where? I don’t-” You stumble over your words as much as you had stumbled over your feet. Had you blacked out? Did you fall asleep? Something must have happened because, instead of the dark glowing cave system, you found yourself back in Sans’ living room, like you had just walked through his front door. The grip on your waist leaves you as you continue to try and get your brain to make sense of what just happened, ‘try’ being the optimum word. Turning around in the hope of getting some answers, you see Sans leaning against the front door, his arm clutched to his chest, clearly in pain. The worst part was, you were not sure how you felt about it.

“Don’t worry. Just took a little shortcut. See, safe and sound at home.” You decided to shelve whatever weirdness had suddenly teleported you from one place to another, there was only so much you could deal with at one time. You wonder if you should be concerned at just how easy you were starting to find ignoring sudden departures from the laws of physics before realising that honestly, you didn’t care. Right now you were more worried about Sans. He might not be on your friends list, but you did sort of depend on him for, well, for everything, particularly now getting you to the surface.

It was a long shot but you had come to accept that there was just no way for you be be able to get out on your own; you didn’t even know which direction to go. You knew the way you had come into this nightmare was out of the question, unless you somehow found Batman’s grappling hook and developed the strength to haul yourself up a rope for god knows how far. So, until you found someone else who could do the job better, Sans was all you had. Wow, did this plan suck. On the subject of Sans-

“You don’t look so good.” He really didn’t. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was sweating and breathing hard, even though he should not physically be able to do either of those things. Sans just smiles.

“Sweetheart, I bring ya back home safe and sound and the first thing ya do is insult my looks?” Thankfully he didn’t sound insulted, he actually sounded fairly relaxed, if a little tired.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Heh heh. I know pet. Just give me a minute an’ I’ll be fine.” You frown but drop the topic. It wasn’t like you knew any way to help him, you couldn’t even offer to get him a glass of water… could you?

“Do you need anything? Um, a glass of water?” You try not to sound too eager. Was it bad that you were trying to take advantage of Sans while he was like this? Your brief moment of conscience fades quickly. Whatever ethical morals you had did not apply to this monster.

Sans opens his eyes a crack and looks directly at you, his smile dropping a little.
“An’ how d’ya expect to get me any water sweetheart?”

“Well if you would show me-”

“Heh, sit down pet. If ya want to be helpful I’m sure I can think of something ya can do to make me feel better.” Shit, you pushed too far, again. Backing off a few steps, Sans moves away from the door and makes his way towards the kitchen. Was it really so much to know how to get water? Sans seemed to think so, and he was clearly not impressed with your attempt at discovering the secret. He turned, looked at you still standing in front of the door, and then pointed to the couch. You can’t meet his eyes, but you do continue to stay where you were standing. How far could you push this? Until he took your soul probably. Not something you were eager to experience again but, since your trip to the waterfall caves, something had changed. It wasn’t that you weren't scared of Sans, you were, and that fear would likely haunt you for the rest of your life. It was something else. Sans had become less like a demon and more, well, ‘Sans’. He had flaws, emotions, family. He wasn’t just some impossible creature you had no chance against.

He was also hurt, and maybe you could use this time to turn the tables a little, regain some control. Sans’ brow lifts as you continue to defy his wishes. You feel yourself deflate a little at just that simple gesture, but still you hold your ground.

“Sit.” Yup, you knew that tone. Sans was not happy but you couldn’t back down now, you had to at least try.

“Make me.” You cross your arms for added effect, as well as to hide the fact they were probably shaking.

“Fine.” With that one word you feel the disgustingly familiar tug on your soul, only this time it remained inside. You shout out as your entire body is not so carefully dragged over to the sofa, your feet only able to slide along the carpet as you arms flail about in an effort to stay balanced. Even when you reach the sofa the clutching at your soul didn’t abate, instead its direction changed and dragged you down. You felt like you weighed an extra hundred pounds as you are practically moulded into the couch cushions. You can’t move, you can barely breathe, but you can turn your eyes enough to see Sans standing in the kitchen archway with his right hand glowing.

You didn't know he could do anything like this. What the fuck was this?! Shit, this was bad. You should have just done what you were told. Stupid. You try to move but it’s useless. Was this more magic? The way Sans’ hand glowed. It was the same as Gerson when he did that shield thing. You had just thought Sans was able to take your soul out and move it - not move it while it was still in your body. How the hell were you meant to fight this?

You watch as Sans’ smile grows wider as your panic increases.
“Don’t push me pet, ‘cause I can always push harder.” For a moment it feels like the pressure might crush you, that any moment you will hear bones snapping until finally, it abates. You lie there gasping, feeling like your muscles were burning and your bones had been stolen from you.
“Now be a good girl and stay.”

You swallow hard as you fingers slowly claw at the material beneath them, desperate to hold on to something solid. Had Sans really just moved you with a flick of his wrist? Nearly crushed you from the next room over with barely a glance? Your head feels like it's filled with static. You can’t deal with this. This was too much. You really were nothing more than a rag doll to him.

When Sans walks back in with a familiar pot of steaming water your eyes go wide. No. No, not again. He places it on the table and stands in front of you.
“Ya done being a stubborn shit?” You nod but Sans narrows his eyes at you.

“Yes Sans.” That worked.

“Good. Now we can get to work.” You watch with both horror and fascination as Sans pulls his shirt up and over his head revealing nothing but bones underneath. Reaching into the pot of water he takes hold of the cloth, wringing it out before offering it to you. You reach forward, taking the material with both hands.
“Make sure ya pay attention to the joints, and heh, don’t be afraid to explore a little.”

You look down at the warm damp cloth in your hands and then back at Sans. When you had said you wanted to turn the tables on your situation… this was not exactly what you had meant.

Chapter Text

“You want me to wash you?” Sans moves the table and pot in front of you while you talk, before sitting sideways on the sofa with one leg curled up on the seat beneath him. He’s smiling.

“Unless ya can think of anything else fun to do with that cloth then, yeah.” You look back down at the checkered material. This was weird. It had only been a few days ago when you had been on the receiving end of this, and now Sans wanted you to give him similar treatment? ‘Hopefully not too similar’, you thought with a sudden flush across your skin.

You couldn’t deny Sans needed a wash, and not just because of the most recent layer of grit and dirt that had been added to his bones, but did he really need you to do it? He was down one hand, but he was hardly a cripple. Touching him like this would be… wrong. It would be far too intimate for your liking, and considering past experiences you know this ‘washing’ will likely devolve into something less clean. This was Sans, after all.

The living Halloween decoration watches how you twist the cloth in your hands.
“What's the matter, sweetheart? Ya seemed fine sucking on my cock, but touching my bones is too much for ya?” Ugh, you didn’t need him reminding you of that event, but he did have a point. You had done a lot with him, not that there was any choice in the matter, but in the grand scheme of things, this shouldn’t be a big deal. It was just bones, right? That said...

“And are we just going to forget the fact that you somehow dragged me across the room with a wave of your hand?” You were pretty sure you were not going to be able to get out of this, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t put it off for as long as possible.

“Oh no pet,” Sans smiled, his good hand reaching out to cup your chin gently.
“I want ya to remember every little thing about that.” A shiver passes down your spine. His tone and words implied it would not be the last time you would find yourself being moved about and held by some invisible force, and god did that scare you. You try to swallow your nerves as Sans’ grin widens. He seems to be searching your face for something, maybe trying to guess what you were thinking. You were still not completely sure he couldn’t read your mind, as silly an idea as that was, but you couldn’t be completely sure about anything when it came to Sans. It always seemed like as soon as you thought you had him figured out, he would throw something else at you.

Eventually he pulls back slightly, his hand leaving your face.
“So ya gonna get me nice and wet or do ya need a little encouragement?”

“I think it’s your mouth that needs a clean, not your bones.” He was clearly in a good mood now, more than likely because he knew he was going to get what he wanted, prick. You dip the cloth back into the water. It had started to cool down and while you were not sure how much Sans could feel temperature-wise, it seemed like the polite thing to do.

“Mmm, I wouldn't mind ya giving it the once over with ya tongue.” His own tongue comes out and swipes across his shark-like teeth.

“Ugh, Sans. Why does everything have to be a dirty joke with you?” Repositioning yourself, you sit cross legged on the sofa so you don’t have to twist to reach him.

“Cause it’s fun watching your reactions.” He tilts his skull to one side.
“Sometimes it makes ya skin flush, or ya shiver and those tiny hairs on your skin stand on end.” He brushes his phalanges lightly down your arm.
“Heh heh, just like that.” The creep just liked to watch you squirm. It was no different than how people would scare their cats to watch them puff out their fur. The comparison was not a pleasant one.
“Sometimes I can even make you smile.” Your eyes widen as he speaks, you had not been expecting that. His voice and smile softens “I like it when ya smile.”


“How ‘bout I give ya a hand.” The tenderness that had creeped into his voice fell away as you were presented with a very bare bony limb. Looking down at it and then back up at him, you sighed. He was in a good mood at the moment, but that likely wouldn't last if you kept putting this off any longer. Biting the bullet, you reach out and place your own hand beneath his for support before bringing the damp cloth down and along the bones of his forearm towards his wrist.

“See, nothing to be worried about, pet. I’m practically armless. Heh heh.” You did let slip a little smile at that, glad he was able to make light of his current incapacitation rather than be all pissy about it. Dipping the cloth in the water again, you move to work on Sans’ hand. The bones were warm and smooth but they all had little dinks and cuts in places making them look worn and alive rather than just some model. Sans seemed content to just leave you be as you worked, which made a nice change. In truth, this wasn’t so bad. Weird, yes, but it wasn’t bad.

“Does your arm still hurt?” You glance over at the limb. It looked like it would need cleaning as well but you didn’t want to touch it if it was still hurting. The green ‘shell’ that coated each of the gel like red areas were still there, but they all looked much smoother and less bulging. By human terms you guessed the fractured bones were less inflamed and were starting to heal.

“Itches a bit.” He shrugs, but only with one shoulder, you make a pretty educated guess that it was more than just ‘itching’. Heaven forbid he actually show a little bit of weakness. Whatever, if he wanted to play ‘the big tough monster that felt no pain’ who were you to argue. You could always use it as an excuse if you ended up ‘accidentally’ knocking it.

“At least it won’t take long to heal.” Good for him, less good for you. You try and work the dirt out between all the little bones in his wrist. It was really strange that he could stay together with nothing but bones. He flinches slightly.

“Hgnn. Oh right there. Where the ulna meets the carpals.” He couldn’t point with his other hand so you try going back to where you had been cleaning before, you were not really an expert when it came to the names of bones.

“Here?” You place the cloth next to the long forearm bone that met the thumb side of the wrist.

“Heh no, the ulna. That’s the radius.”

“Oh, um, here?” Ulna, radius. You would have to try and remember those names. If there was one thing Sans was highly qualified at, it was being an interactive model for learning about skeletons. Now if you could just find a way to get him to be a little less interactive.

“That’s it.” He sighed as you manage to wipe away a good deal of dirt that had dug itself into the joint. You make sure to rinse out the cloth before giving it another clean and ensuring you had gotten all of it.
“Damn, that's been bugging me forever.”

“It was only a bit of grit, don’t be such a baby.” You were still finding it a little hard to come to terms that you were giving a skeleton a sponge bath. You tried to focus more on the individual bones rather than the fact it was Sans you were cleaning. It also sort of felt nice to get to do something, made you felt less like a pet like this. More like a… friend? No. Companion? Disgruntled roommate - that sounded more like it. Maybe things really could be different.

“Like ta see ya cope having half a cave stuck between ya joints.” You laugh and motioned him to bring his elbow over to you, it was strange seeing how all of the bones and joints connected.

“No thanks, I’m lucky enough to have skin.” You jump when you feel something warm and slimy snake up the side of your neck. You had not realised just how close you had gotten to Sans as you worked on his joints, Sans clearly had.

“Mmm, yes you do.” Trying to pull back, Sans takes hold of your arm to keep you in place before he nuzzles into the damp area he had just licked. Unbidden heat pools in your abdomen. You did not like where this was heading.

“Sans, do you want to get clean or not?” He was leaning in closer now, his hand slowly pulling yours to touch his ribs. He growled hungrily as your fingers and the damp cloth met his chest, the smooth bones practically vibrating under your fingers.

“Mmm not sure.” His voice was dark and playful, bordering on a purr and a laugh.
“Getting dirty is looking like a good option right now.” You had to stop this right now.

“So, you have a brother right?” Sans quickly pulls away and lets go of you, all signs of lust washed from his face. Your heart is going a mile a minute. God bless the power of cockblocking siblings. Nothing like killing the mood with the mention of family.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” He looked more confused than angry, which you were grateful for. He had, after all, clearly not wanted to talk about his brother back when you had been walking through the glowing cave. For once it looked like you hadn't put your foot in your mouth. Watching, you see a sudden realisation flash across his skull.
“Gerson. That old git. I think I may need to pay him another visit once I’m all healed up.”

“He didn’t-”

“Sweetheart, what did I say?” You remember Sans’ warning about the old turtle. Right. Short fuse. Keep him happy.

“Sorry, Sans.” You fidget and hope it looks like you are just nervous, truthfully you just wanted to put a little distance between you and Sans as you ease yourself back and closer to the armrest.

“That's my girl. No big deal, lots of people have brothers.” Thankfully Sans seemed to have decided he is not about to bend you over the sofa. Instead, he leans back and props both of his legs in front of you. You almost laugh as he wiggles his toes.
“What else did the fossil patella ya?” Great, more bone puns.

“Um, not much.” Sans’ eyes narrow. You swallow. Gerson hadn't told you all that much from what you remembered, so while you didn’t want to say anything that might get him in trouble, you also didn’t think it would really hurt to tell Sans.
“He said your brother was called Papyrus.” Sans gives an agreeing grunt as you return to cleaning the bones in front of you. You wonder if skeletons could have ticklish feet.
“And that you and him were probably the strongest monsters in the underground.”

“Heh maybe the old turtle ain't as stupid as he looks.” The talking anatomy lesson stretches a little and rests his damaged arm on his chest. He was a lot more relaxed now, more than likely happy that Gerson had not been slandering his, or his brother’s, name to you.

“He also said...” Were you really doing this? Your hand tightens in the damp cloth as you take a deep breath. You know Sans is not going to like returning to this topic but, if not now, then when?
“That Papyrus can get to the surface.”

“Did he now?” There is a warning edge to his tone. You knew he was giving you a chance to drop the subject, which was almost nice of him.

“Is it true?” But you can’t. If you don’t try and talk about this now you don’t think you will be able to pluck up enough courage to try again.

“Yeah, Paps spends most of his time on the the surface now. Why?” How could Sans sound so relaxed? He had admitted to flat out lying to you in an attempt to keep you down here. Your anger at the betrayal is muted by your caution, but it's still enough to cause your voice to raise.

“You know why! You said I was trapped down here! That there was no way to leave when all along your brother could take me home!” There, you had said it! You were probably going to get one hell of a ‘lesson’ because of your mouth, but who the fuck cares!

This whole time you had been trying to escape, to achieve your plan and keep your hope alive, and Sans could have taken you home right away. Honestly, deep down, you knew he had been lying from the start. But, you also thought that maybe, just maybe, he had been telling the truth. That for some reason monsters really were stuck down here, but no. He just wanted to keep you here as his fucking pet - in every sense of the word - you were so stupid! You wait, heart pounding from both anger and fear. Something was going to happen now and you were ready for it. Well, you thought you were ready for it.

“HEH HEH HEH!” He was… laughing? Okay that was not what you had been expecting at all.
“Are you shitting me? Really? Oh fuck, that shit’s funny. Ow ow, my arm.” He was clutching his arm to his chest as he tried to calm himself down.
“Heh heh heh. You think Papyrus would…? Oh sweetheart, you’re adorable.” What the hell? He thought this was all a joke?

“I’m not laughing Sans. I can’t stay down here. I have to get back to the surface.” You toss the cloth back into the pot and fold your arms across your chest. Sans is still chuckling but he has calmed down enough to take note of your posture.

“Then what?” Sans sits up, moving his legs from you and looking genuinely interested. You look at him confused.
“What happens if ya get topside?”

“What do you mean ‘what happens’? I try and pick up my life and forget about everything down here.” You wanted to add ‘Forget about you’ but you were already well past your limits for Sans and you didn’t know how much more you could push. Besides… nothing short of a lobotomy is going to make you forget everything Sans has put you through.

“Ya really think ya can forget about all this? That ya can just go about ya mundane life knowing what lurks beneath the surface?” You turn your head away. He was wrong. He had to be. Everything would be better when you got to the surface.

You try to imagine yourself back home, back walking around with other people, back with your family - but you can’t. All you can see are shadows and fear. Fear of what else might be real. Fear that the monsters might come after you, after the people you care about. You… you would be alone. There would be no way you could tell anyone else, no way to confide in anyone. You would have to suffer in silence, but at least you would be free. Right?

“Ya died, sweetheart. Ya died when ya fell down here and ya died when ya fell of that cliff. Whoever you were on the surface is gone. You belong down here, with me.” Sans reaches out and brushes some hair away from your face.

“I don’t belong down here.” Even you can hear your resolve breaking.

“What about the other humans? Ya just going ta leave ‘em down here? Leave ‘em with Alphys?”

“I don’t care about the others.” It shocks you just how true your statement was. Was it wrong to be so selfish? To only think about yourself when the other humans were being tortured and experimented on?
“I wish I could help them. I want to, but… I can’t. I’m not a hero, I don’t want to be a hero. They… they are dead already.” You realise you’re echoing Sans’ own words, but this was different. It had to be different. There was still hope for you.
“All that matters is getting home.”

“Pet, we have been through this. Ya are home.” Again there is a hint of warning, but it was only a hint. Shouldn’t he be pissed off at you by now? Giving you ‘strikes’ and pulling out your soul to shut you up? You didn’t know why he was keeping his temper under control but you sure as hell weren't. You feel your confidence soar.

“The surface is my home!”

“And what? You think my brother is going to help you get back up there? Heh heh. Fucking hell, he is the reason ya down here in the first place.”

“What?” Your confidence crashes as you turn and stare at him.

“Damn, I wish I had a camera right now, that expression is priceless.” You didn’t know how to deal with this. Sans was just laughing at you. Laughing at the mere thought you could find a way to get to the surface. Did he really think it was impossible? That the threat of you attempting such a feat was something to be ignored or outright ridiculed? It couldn’t be impossible! There had to be a way else… what was the point?

“This is not a joke Sans, this is my life!” You try to hold onto the anger, the rage. “I just want my boring, ordinary, life back... I want to go home.” But instead, you feel yourself get washed under a wave of hopelessness. Tears fall as you turn away from Sans and try to hide your face. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You didn’t want him to keep laughing at you. Laughing at how stupid you were.

“Oh little bird, shhh.” A strong arm of bone wraps firmly around your front as Sans shifts to hold your back against his chest. You can feel his ribs, the way they thrum and pulse. You don’t pull away or fight the embrace from the monster that had done this to you. You can’t. You needed to be held, supported, even if it was from a demon, because right now you feel like you're falling apart.

“It’s okay. Shhh shh.” You feel his skull touch against the back of your head, his voice shutting everything else out.
“There is nothing for you on the surface. You’re safe here. With me. I can make you happy. I can make you so happy, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” His arm leaves your chest as you lean into him. You can feel his phalanges gently stroke and weave through your hair. You let out a shaky sob. You hated him. You hated him so much.

“Forget about everything else, it doesn’t matter. It was nothing but a bad dream. All that matters is the here and now.” You try to hold on to you twisted mass of feelings but it hurt too much. Like clutching at a ball of snakes biting at you. What was the point? What was the point of holding on if it only hurt? You just want it all to stop.

“Don’t think, sweetheart, just feel. Ya safe. Ya warm. Ya loved. Ya never have to worry again. I’ll take care of ya. I’ll take care of everything.” Finally you let go. You sigh at the sudden relief, the numbness of letting your mind go blank and just stop. The twisting panic and pain in your chest ebbing till you can breathe again. You feel yourself pressed up against those warm, strong bones, your form cradled, and held, and protected. You felt... safe.

Chapter Text

A small part of you wanted to stay like this. Lost in the lie. Feeling safe and cared for. Wanted. But this wasn’t what you wanted. It was never what you wanted, and it always ended up like this! He would twist your thoughts until you gave up, or gave in. You hated yourself for being so weak, for letting him take advantage of your fear and hopelessness at any chance he could get. You try to pull away, to put some distance between you and the pile of bones digging into your skin, but his arm moved to rest around your shoulders, holding you against his ribs but not crushing you. He just wanted to keep you for himself. Keep you caged and passive. Goddammit! HE was the reason you were upset in the first place! Tears prick at your eyes again but this time from frustration as his skull pressed softly against your ear.

“Please.” The whispered word made you pause. It wasn't so much the word, but the way it was said. There was no threat, no command. You could almost believe he was asking your permission with how heartfelt it sounded.
“Just for a little bit.” He curled into your back a little more but didn’t tighten his hold. Maybe… maybe you could pretend for a while longer that you had some sort of choice in all this, that he might actually care. The fight ebbs away and eventually you relax back into his chest. The humming from his bones deepens, and with a content sigh, Sans rests his skull on your shoulder.

You couldn’t understand what was going on. This wasn’t like Sans. Sure he had always been clingy and touchy, but never like this. You felt like he wanted to wrap himself around you and never let go. But it wasn’t just that. Since getting back from Gerson’s he had been treating you differently. Less threats, less ultimatums. Flirting, not forcing. Hell, you still had your clothes on! He’d been treating you more like- like a person, and while you know you should be grateful for the change, it scared you. Made you feel uncertain around him. Like the ground could suddenly give way. You were already lost in this world, you couldn’t have Sans suddenly acting differently and taking away the last thing you could be sure about.

It was only about a minute before Sans shifted and let you go. You could feel the reluctance in his movements as he keeps some form of touch for as long as possible before finally breaking contact. Taking the pot of water with him, he moved into the kitchen without a word or even a second glance. Your back felt cold without him against it so you shift to lean against the sofa, arms wrapping around your chest as your heart and head pounded.

What did he even want with you? That one question had been sitting and stewing in your head since the first day, as soon as you had been dragged into this house and realised you were trapped. The problem was that every time you asked Sans, he would just ignored you and changed the subject. It had to be something bad, something you wouldn’t like, or he’d have told you by now. But then, why wasn’t he doing anything with you?

Was he really just after a pet? Something to enjoy and help him feel less lonely? Maybe he didn’t want to admit that he simply wanted someone around, someone to talk to and spend time with. He didn’t seem to have many friends, and the only family you knew about apparently ‘worked away’ all the time. Papyrus. You were still pissed Sans hadn't told the truth about being able to get to the surface, but if what he said was true, about his brother being the one that was bringing the humans down here, then you could kind of understand why letting you go back up there would be a problem. When your brother’s job is to catch humans, it would look bad to be setting them free.

Your hands reach up and grip either side of your head. This was so fucking wrong! You hated what Sans had put you through, how he treated you but at the same time, the more you learned, the more ‘human’ he became. A filthy, perverted, control freak of a person with a twisted sense of humor, but still. You were starting to understand some of his motives. That was a good thing, right? If you could understand him then maybe you could get him to understand you, see things from your perspective. You had accepted the fact that, in his own way, he didn’t think he was doing anything really wrong. That he thought he really was a ‘good guy’.

Admittedly he had saved you from the cliff, and the wolves, though maybe ‘stolen’ you would be a better description. Did that mean he had stolen from his brother? That was a little odd. It didn’t seem taboo to have a human down here judging from the reaction you had got, as well as Grillby’s. It just seemed… rare, so why you? Couldn’t he have just asked his brother to get him a human?
Ugh, you felt sick. Thinking about people like this, like they were nothing but stray dogs being rounded up, it made your stomach knot up. Or maybe that was because you hadn't eaten in awhile.

Smells start to draw your attention, tomato mostly, so you were guessing more spaghetti was on its way. Sans was clearly not the best cook if his last dish was anything to go by, but you would take just about anything right now, and it had to be better than eating junk food everyday. Leaning over you try to see into the kitchen, but other than the bin your view is blocked by the angle of the wall. You could go over and take a look, Sans hadn't told you to - You shake your head. To hell with what Sans had and hadn’t told you! If you wanted to get up off the sofa then you would!

Standing up straight you make your way over to the other room, glad that the carpet muffled your approach. But each step felt like it sapped away your confidence, pulled at your resolve, till eventually you were walking quietly along the wall, trying to stay hidden. Reaching the archway you slowly poke your head around the corner, body tense and ready to move if you had to.

A different pot to the one you had been using (thankfully) sat simmering on the stove, more wonderful smells drifting towards you and causing it to hold your attention for longer than it needed to. How long ago had it been since you had eaten something? You could do with a drink too. Sans meanwhile had put the ‘cleaning pot’ on the side and was washing himself, or at least cleaning where he could reach.

Why wasn’t he making you do that? You hadn’t been doing a bad job, right? It almost stung to think that you were not able to do something as simple as cleaning away dirt properly. None of this made any sense. One moment he is all over you and then the next he is pulling away. What the hell was going on with him?

“What do ya want pet?” Sans continued to clean his joints, barely paying any attention to you as water drips on the floor around him. Even when he was cleaning he made a mess.

Your head instinctively ducks down slightly when he addresses you but you are able to meet his eyes, or at least the lights that acted as eyes, when he gives you a glance.

“I wanted- I mean, um. Can I have a drink?” You stay just within the arch, one hand gripping onto the wall edge. The idea of stepping into the kitchen with Sans made you nervous - even if there was no logical reason due to the open nature of both rooms. You wanted to try and keep everything calm for as long as you could, and Sans had so far never liked you going in the kitchen.

“Food’s nearly done. I’ll bring some then.” Sans continued to ignore you as he worked on his bones and joints. You watch him twist and grunt as he attempted to reach round his back to his spine. He could reach, barely, but it did not really leave his cloth covered hand able to do much more than flop up and down to brush against the vertebra due to the angle. You felt torn about helping him. True, you still wanted to try and get on his good side, to maybe convince him that letting you go was for the best, but you also took a surprising amount of glee seeing him struggle like this. Maybe you could try a different approach.

“You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if I hadn't been here.” You make sure to keep your voice level and flat. You felt no remorse about the fact Sans was hurt; truth be told it was helping restore your faith in karma. But if you could just try to get Sans to see you were far more trouble than you were worth, maybe he would lose interest. You couldn’t run from Sans, that was a fact. You needed him if you wanted to get back home, but for that to happen it meant you also needed him on the same page as you.

Sans was being difficult, as always, and paid you no mind. The only indication he had even heard you was a slight flick of his eye lights and a grunt. After a deep breath you decide to press on. Even if you couldn’t convince him to let you go maybe you could annoy or nag him into submission. If there was one thing you were good at, it was being persistent.

“Look. Sans. I don’t belong here.” Sans stops what he’s doing as you speak, the cloth dropping back into the pot of water with a soft splash. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Pet.” Dark, low. Sans’ voice is laced with a calm warning. The both of you had gone over this subject so many times already, but Sans had yet to understand that you were not just going to lie down and give up on going home. If you had to repeat the same thing over and over again before it broke through that thick skull of his, then you would.

“And, if I stay, it’s only going to cause you problems.” You stop as Sans chuckles to himself. It's a soft, private laugh that made you grind your teeth. You were sick and tired of him laughing at you.
“What is so damn funny!” You snap your mouth closed and slowly back away from the archway. Shit, you should not have lost your temper like that. Damage control, damage control.
“Sorry Sans. Sorry. I...I just-”

“Sweetheart, come here.” You hesitate for only a second before leaving the safety of the wall and making your way to Sans. You didn’t fight. What would be the point? Whatever he was going to do would happen anyway, fighting or running would just make it worse. This wasn’t giving up, it was just survival.

Sans stood waiting, the silence only filled with the soft popping of the sauce warming on the stove. You kept your head down as you crossed the short distance, scared that you might see him angry at you. Honestly, you were just as scared you might get angry if you saw him smiling at you.

“Good girl.” You hold your breath and watch his left hand reach up to your face, the bones gently cupping around your cheek before they swept some hair away from your face. He was being gentle… why was he being gentle? He should be angry, right? He should be getting you to take off your clothes, or pulling out your soul, or at the very least forcing you to sit back on the couch. Fear seemed to heighten every touch, sending goosebumps down your arm and a shiver up your spine as a single bone traces the edge of your ear. His phalanges slowly edge back and thread themselves into your hair. Any moment now he would tighten them, or maybe grab the back of your neck.

But the pain never came. Slowly, you look up from Sans’ bare ribcage. He looks neither angry or happy, just… content, the lights in his eyes searching your face.
“Ya my problem.” His words, and the feeling embedded in them, grasps at you, suffocating and robbing you of your own. You could take his anger. You could even handle his belittling and laughter at your expense, but this? The way he could just say a few words and turn everything on its head. You felt like you were caught in a web, that every time you struggled only secured you more tightly to the silken threads.

“Sans-” You’re not sure what you want to say but you know you have to say something to stop this.

“Shhh sweetheart. Don’t think, just-” That damn those words! His repeated mantra pulls at you to keep fighting.

“No Sans, you can’t keep doing this. Please, if you care about me, really care, then let me go.” Couldn’t he see what he was doing was wrong? Did he really think he could put you through everything he had and still think you would want to stay here? That you would want anything to do with him? It didn’t matter how nice or gentle he was right now, even if he had been from the very beginning, the fact still remained - you did NOT belong here. Sans continues to shut you down.

“No.” Despite his refusal to listen to you, the bones at the back of your head continued to softly trace circles against your scalp, a stark contrast to the pain he was causing.

“Damnit! Why Sans? Why me? There must be other humans you can use. Ask your brother, or take one from the lab. Just stop, stop this.” You were past the point of caring. No one deserved this, but why did it have to be you? You were no different from the other billions of humans, yet still he wouldn't let you go. Were you being selfish? Sure, but no one else gave a damn about you.

“No, pet. Ya the only one I want.” You find yourself slowly moving backwards as Sans draws closer, the bare bones of his chest threatening to touch yours. But even though his hand is resting in your hair, he doesn't use it to hold you or pull you towards him. Instead you find your retreat stopped by the counter resting against your back.
“Ya the only one who sings for me. My little bird. The rest are broken, faded. They’re not like you.”

“You’re going to break me if I stay here. All of this. It’s ripping me apart.” You could feel it, you could feel the way your heart stuttered, the way your thoughts would barely hold together sometimes. Even if you got back to the surface now, you knew you would never be the same. Sans was right. You had died as soon as you had entered the underground.

“No, little bird. I won’t let ya break. I’ll take care of ya, keep ya safe.” Your eyes close as he leans down, his brow ridge resting against your forehead, his ribs ghosting against your chest as you breathe. He really did believe he could keep you safe, didn’t he? Too bad he didn’t seem to realise that he was the one you needed to be protected from.
“Forget about the surface. Holding onto that dream will only hurt ya.”

“I can’t. If I let go of that shred of hope, I might as well be dead.” He said he would make it quick, right? At least you had that way out if nothing else.

Sans pulls back slightly giving you room to breathe. His hand slips from your hair and rests under your jaw instead as your eyes open to see him watching you again. What could he see that you couldn’t?

“How about I make ya a promise.” You narrow your eyes at him. What was Sans up to?
“I’ll take ya up to the surface someday soon.”

“And let me go?” Hope sprang in your chest, but it was muted by reality. You knew to listen to how Sans worded things, and from the look on his face ‘going to the surface’ was very far removed from ‘letting you go’.

“Askin’ a bit much there, pet.” Honestly, the fact Sans was not promising to let you go made it seem like he really would take you to the surface. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Maybe you could find away to escape him then. Probably not the first time, but if you could make it a regular thing then, maybe.

“Fine, but how do I know you’re not just lying?” It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Ya don’t.” And that's what it all really came down to, wasn't it? You had no way to know if he would keep his promise but… it was all you had. Whatever Sans was doing, whatever he had planned, you just had to go along with it. Maybe you really could find a way to manage without fighting him all the time. Maybe Sans really could be shown a better way.

“Come on, food’s done, an’ I wouldn’t want to spoil my appetite by eating dessert first.” But, no matter how much he changed, Sans would always be a creep.

“I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.” You huff and fold your arms across your chest as Sans moves to grab the pasta pot from the stove.

“Now who's the liar, sweetheart?” Sans laughs while he pours the food onto the plate… and you can’t help but join in a little.

Chapter Text

As you stand in the kitchen, with your arms crossed slightly leaning against the countertop, you can’t help but notice that there is only one plate being loaded with the pasta and sauce. It was a bigger plate than before and you feel your eyes narrow. The sight of the new crockery meant that Sans DID have more than one plate. Now it wasn’t that you were worried about not getting enough food, it was the fact that Sans still clearly expected to keep feeding you from his plate.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to have two smaller plates?” You try to sound calm, to reason with Sans rather than push him. He was right about the ‘push harder’ part earlier, you would never beat him that way. Instead, you would just have to be smart and convince him to see that your way was better. Sans was still a stubborn git.

“No.” He didn’t even bother to look at you, just opened one of the drawers and fished out a fork-- another plastic one, joy. Well, if at first you don’t succeed, try a different angle.

“Will I get my own fork this time?” You can’t help the slight edge that crept into your voice.

“No.” Sans, however, sounded perfectly calm and relaxed. The fact that he wasn’t getting angry helped to spur you on and build your confidence.

“Are you ever going to stop being an ass?”

“Heh heh, no.” Ugh, he was just so… so… impossible!

“Can’t you-” Sans turned to face you, clearly having had enough of this ‘game’.

“Sweetheart, put a sock in it. Better yet-” You really didn’t like the fact Sans didn’t finish that sentence, or the smirk you’d glimpsed on his face.

He heads towards the fridge, pulling it open to start digging around in a paper bag on the top shelf. For a brief moment you manage to see what was inside the cold ‘mystery box’, though much like the house it looked decidedly normal. Still, It was weird to see a walking, talking, skeleton rooting around a fridge. It was mostly filled with fast food containers and a jar of what you were hoping were pickled onions. The door quickly shuts before you can get a better look but you do recognise the chunk of, for lack of a better term, ‘food’ he was currently holding out to you.
“Here. Heh. Don’t look at me like that.” You didn’t even realise you were pulling a face at the sight of one of the food pellets he kept insisting you ate each day.

“Ugh, do I have to? It tastes like it's made of dog food soaked in lard.” Not that you had ever had the pleasure of sampling such a delicacy, it was just the closest analogy you could think of.

“Aww, maybe I should be calling you ‘puppy’ instead.” The smile Sans was giving you right now sent a shiver down your spine. It was bad enough having the belt of bones wrapped around your neck, as well as the current string of nicknames he liked to call you by. You did not need Sans thinking he had any more reason to be treating you like a pet.

“Please don’t.” He continues to smile but seems to decide he is not about to humiliate you more… he would likely save that till later.

“Look, I know it ain't the best, but it’ll stop ya from gettin’ sick. Human meds ain’t something that’s easy to find down here.” You look back at what you had decided to call a ‘shit brick’. You knew humans could get really sick if they didn’t get certain vitamins, vitamin C being the main one that stuck in your mind. Scurvy did not look like a pleasant way to die.

“Fine.” You take the slab and try to eat it before you can change your mind. Unfortunately it was like chewing on a chunk of rubber. It didn’t help that your already liquid deprived mouth suddenly shriveled in on itself due to the saltiness of the stuff. Eventually you have to give up and spit out the now slimy, half-chewed block into your hand.
“Blegh, it’s even worse cold, can barely chew it.”

“Okay, okay. Damn ya awkward. Give me a sec.” It wasn’t like you had asked Sans to ‘take care’ of you, yet he was acting like you were some sort of fussy cat that had turned their nose up at their dinner. Honestly, you were hoping Sans would just let you skip this ‘food’ for a change, but he clearly wanted to make sure you ‘took your medicine’. To your surprise, you watch as Sans opens the tall cabinet to reveal… a tap.

“So THAT’S where you’ve been getting the water.” Sans gives a small laugh as he grabs your cup and fills it. Water drips onto a towel below that looked like it should have been changed a month ago judging from the mold that seemed to be growing on it… was that a mushroom?

“Ain’t a secret, pet.” He hands you the full cup where upon you quickly take a big gulp and revive your parched mouth. It's incredible how good water can taste when it was rationed.

“Then why have you been hiding it from me?” You were so sick of being kept in the dark about everything. What possible reason could Sans have for not letting you get your own water? Well, other than to keep you dependent on him. Bastard.

“‘Cause ya can’t go in there.” Sans emphasized his point by closing the cupboard door.
“Ain’t even safe for ya to be around it.”

“Why? It’s just water. Right?” What? Was the tap suddenly going to explode if a human touched it? Sans wasn’t even trying anymore, just spewing any shit that entered his hollow skull and expecting you to believe it.

“Look, long story. How about we get comfy and eat the food while it’s warm? After ya eaten that, of course.” You look back down at the partly chewed, sticky, brown, brick that still lay in your hand. For a split second you think about throwing it at him, but you quickly push that idea aside.

“Are you sure you’re not trying to kill me?” Sans gave you a quizzical look before realising that it wasn’t a real question. Moving forward, he runs a single digit along the bare skin of your arm, drawing goosebumps from your flesh. Your teeth clench as you hold still, your flight or fight responses overruled with the knowledge that either would just make things worse. His light touch ends as he cups your hand and lifts both it and the brown mass closer to your face.

“Heh. Very sure. Don’t worry pet, after a few bites of the spaghetti this will just be a thing of the past’a. At least until tomato.” You roll your eyes at the stupid puns but are glad the tension eases to a point where you can take a breath. You lower your hand again as Sans leaves you to pick up the heaped plate of pasta, the fork sticking out of the top like a flag. He doesn't look happy when he sees you still haven't eaten.
“Go on, ya not eating this till it’s all gone.”

You spend a moment trying to work out if you really were that hungry, but with your lower abdomen clenching in on itself you don’t really have a choice. Quickly shoving the shit brick into your mouth, you use the remainder of your water to force it down. The slab puts up a fight but eventually you swallow the damn thing.

“That’s my girl.” Sans turns and makes his way to the couch with you following behind him, your tongue trying to rub away the residue from your gums and teeth, though nothing would get rid of the disgusting taste in your mouth from Sans calling you ‘his girl’ again.

With one arm out of commission, Sans was forced to use the small table rather than his gut for the plate of food to rest on, a change you hoped he would stick to once his bones were fully mended. You didn’t bother with trying to sit in your usual spot at the far end of the sofa, it would be nothing more than a wasted gesture. You would only have to move again for the food, thus making Sans feel like he had ‘won’. This way, by sitting next to Sans, you were the one deciding, not him.

Sans took the first two bites before he saw fit to move a full fork of food in your direction. You don't try and take the fork from him but you do hold your hands underneath it to try and avoid any sauce from falling and ruining your clothes. The stinking red shirt Sans was letting you wear was hardly a cherished possession, but you were enjoying being clothed far too much to have the luxury taken away from you anytime soon.

The two of you eat in silence for about half the plate, and other than Sans’ far too pleased smiles it was a nice affair with no unwanted touching or perverse requests. The problem was that it was making you nervous. The T.V. was off for a change meaning the only sounds were of the plastic scraping against the plate, the sticky wet sound of the spaghetti being moved around, and the natural ambient noises the both of you made when you ate. It was uncomfortable, and made you far too aware of Sans’ presence.

How long would you have to suffer through this? Being fed and bullied and treated like an object. Sans had said he would take you to the surface ‘soon’, but how soon did he mean? Would he even keep his word? You felt like he would… maybe, but even then would you be able to get away from him? Would you have to wait for the right moment while freedom was just a breath away? You would only get one chance, you had to be ready for anything. It might not even be Sans that takes you up there, maybe it would be Papyrus, unless Sans was able to get to the surface like his brother could. That thought was a chilling one. If you got away, would Sans come after you? Even on the surface?

As you chew on another mouthful of spaghetti, and it really did take quite a bit of chewing to get through, you eye Sans. Watch him carefully for any sign he was about to do something. You knew Sans, he was bound to touch you at some point, do something you wouldn’t like. Right? This calmness, this restraint and promising, it was all just an act to get you to relax around him. But you couldn’t. Whenever you let your guard down, that's when Sans liked to be at his worse. Like in the cave. When you had seen the waterfalls you’d thought that maybe there was hope, maybe there really was light in the darkness, that maybe Sans could change. But Sans had snatched that all away when he had taken you into that cave. Your soul… God, it had felt so… Would he do it again? Was there any way to stop him from taking your soul? From touching it?

Another fork of food was held out for you, but your stomach felt like it was knotting up. Your skin suddenly felt cold, like a bucket of water had been dumped on your head. You froze.

When had it become so hard to breathe?

God that blue glow… the blue from the waterfalls, it had been so pretty…

Why did it feel like the walls were closing in?

The echoes from the flowers… you could hear yourself, hear him.

Something was wrong. Your eyesight felt restricted. So cold.

“Relax sweetheart.” Your eyes snap to his before focusing on the fork slowly returning to the plate, the movement holding your attention.
“No one’s gonna hurt ya. Ya safe. Shh, just breathe.” You take in a breath and let it out again slowly.
“That's it, there we go. Breathe. In and out.” Realising your right hand had a death grip on the sofa cushion, you try and get it to ease off and loosen its grip. It was harder than you had expected. You weren't shaking but your heart was hammering in your chest like a drum and you felt very lightheaded.

It takes a few minutes to get a handle on yourself and for your heartbeat to fall back in check. Sans watches you the whole time, but made no move to touch you, only reminding you to ‘breathe’ and that you were ‘safe’. You hated the fact that his words were helping.

What happened? A panic attack? It wasn’t like Sans had been doing anything to you, so why?

“Ya okay little bird? What was all that about?” He actually sounded a little concerned.

“Sorry I…” Why the hell were you saying sorry? You blink away pre-tear mist from your eyes before it threatened to break.
“I’m not sure what happened.” You are. You realised, and reluctantly admit to yourself, that you’d gotten worked up expecting Sans to do something. Remembering what had happened in the cave must have caused an attack. But how were you meant to tell Sans that? Were you going to have to fight against both him and your memories? God you just wanted this nightmare to end. You look back at the partly full plate of spaghetti that now rested on the table. Your appetite had completely left you.

“Look sweetheart, ya don’t have ta worry. Whatever it is, I'll keep ya safe.” Sans clearly had some idea on what just happened, though he seemed completely oblivious to the fact he was the root of the problem. Had he seen enough humans have panic attacks to recognise the signs? Maybe monsters just had similar responses.

Your legs leave the floor as you bring them up to hug against your chest. You just wanted to curl up in the corner and wish everything away.
“How can you expect me to feel safe around you?” You didn’t look at him, the panic had subsided but you felt drained and scared it might happen again. You had never had a panic attack like that before, and you didn’t want to risk anything that might tip you over the edge. You just wanted to be left alone, even if it was just for a little while.

Sans, however, dismissed your current condition with his usual air of smugness.
“Ya alive ain’t ya?”

You turn and just look at him for a moment as he stuffs another forkful of spaghetti into that shark-like mouth of his. He honestly believed that, didn’t he? Believed that you should be grateful and happy just to be alive. You can’t even feel angry about it, you just sort of feel… hollow.
This” You lift up an arm and move it in an arc in front of you to try and help Sans realise you were referring to this whole messed up situation.
“Is not safe. This isn’t even living. It’s just surviving. Food, water, it’s not enough. I can’t do this.” Your arm returns to hugging your legs as your head drops to nestle into your knees.
“You’re killing me Sans. I don’t...I don’t know if you can see it, or even if you care, but… you're killing me. Piece by piece.”

“Whoa there sweetheart. The spaghetti ain’t that bad.” You hear him give a weak laugh as he tried to turn this into a joke. You weren't laughing. The sofa shifted and after a moment you feel his hand rest gently on your back, just below your neck line where it curved out from your hunched up posture. You didn’t want him touching you. You hate the feel of his bones grazing against a small patch of skin just above the t-shirt collar. But fighting would require you to move, to look at him. To look at this small room you were likely going to have to live in for weeks, if not longer. The realisation was finally hitting home. You were not getting out of this tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. You were going to be stuck like this, with him, for… a while.

“Pet, where is this all coming from? You were okay back in the kitchen.” He actually sounded concerned now, pretending to care as his hand gently rubs against your spine.
“What did we just talk about? Ya can’t lose hope now after I promised to take ya to the surface. Ya just got ta trust me, kay? Let me take care of ya.” The sofa shifts again but this time you feel Sans move closer. You turn your head away, your eyes held tightly closed as he leans in, his skull nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“Ya don’t have ta hurt. None of this has ta hurt.” When you feel the hot wet touch of his tongue against your skin, you can’t take it any more. You had to get away. You had to do something, anything.

He growls when you get up. Growls like a goddamn dog. But you do manage to get off the sofa and away from him. How? You're not sure. It’s likely because of his arm.

“Pet.” Sans is not happy, but he didn’t move or come after you. Then again, why would he? It wasn’t like you could go anywhere. Your arms remained wrapped around your torso as you glance towards the front door before looking down at your feet.

“Go on then. It’s open.” You frown as you turn back to Sans. He had repositioned himself back on the sofa and had grabbed another forkful of food.

“What?” You didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t even want to acknowledge him, but Sans honestly couldn’t mean…

“The door.” Sans shoves the fork into his mouth but continues to talk as he eats.
“It’s open.” You don’t know what to say. Your eyes turn back to the door and then back down to Sans. It was a trick, right? Or… a test? Slowly, with your eyes fixed on Sans, you make your way towards the door. From his position on the sofa, Sans watched you with mild interest but continued to sit and eat. He had to be lying right? He wouldn’t just let you walk away. When you touch the door handle you quickly jerk your back, but no, it was just cold, there was nothing wrong with it. The door is heavy and the latch is stiff but… it turns. You open the door a fraction, the cold seeping in through the crack bringing with it the smell of frost and pine.

“So what's it going to be, little bird? Ya going to leave the nest? See just how far those little wings will take ya?” He sounded… curious. Was this really a choice he was giving you? Would he really just let you walk out the door? With his next words though, reality hit home.
“But there ain’t no sky out there pet, just a bigger cage.”

You continue to look at the world through that small crack, the cold biting at your skin and the white snow causing your eyes to water. It looked so peaceful out there. Looking up you see… nothing. Just a gray void. No stars, no sun, no clouds, no sky. Nothing.

You close the door.

Chapter Text

If there was one thing you had to quickly learn living in this hell hole, it was how to hide your emotions. Well, either that or be damn good at just plain hiding. It was a skill Sans was both good at and, at the moment, very grateful for. While his human had closed the door and was still in the room with him, she was making no move to come back to him, and it was REALLY pissing him off.

Sans took another bite of spaghetti and came quite close to slicing the flimsy fork in half.

The broken edges of his bones were itching, almost burning, as he tried to restrain his magic. Keep it from grabbing her soul and dragging her back to the sofa. He suffered in silence as he tried to not make the same rash mistakes that had gotten him into this mess. Not that he had the magic to spare anyway. Fun fact: all magic comes from the same source. Didn’t matter if it was being used for healing, fighting or fucking, it was all the same. So with his arm as banged up as it was, Sans didn’t have much magic to use on anything but the basics. The shortcut from Gerson’s had been a strain, something that would cost him in the time it took to fully heal. Now Sans was all for lazing about as much as he could, but the faster he healed, the cleaner and stronger the fractures would mend. Thanks to Gerson, there was a good chance they would knit with minimal scarring.

The only thing stopping him from taking himself straight to bed and power napping his way through the recovery was his pet, and this sudden shift in mood. Damnit! He couldn’t even check on her soul! The one skill he had always felt competent in, and it was useless, just like him. They were both unstable at the moment and messing about with her soul, even just to look at it, would be a bad idea. He knew not to tempt fate; he had done enough of that in Waterfall. Once he’d healed up it would be safer. The problem was, even knowing that fact, it did not really help with the aggravation this whole mess was causing. What he wouldn’t give to just strap her to a table and hook that little purple soul of hers to a hundred machines and let it all be dealt with remotely. It would make things so much simpler.

“Pet, if ya ain’t leaving then come sit down. Ya making the place look untidy.” Sans tried to keep his attention on the plate of food, but he couldn't help glancing towards where his human was standing. Why did this have to be so hard? Sure Sans could understand that she didn’t want to be here, but what choice did she really have? He wasn’t that bad if she gave him a chance. Heck, it could be a lot better if she just listened to him for a change. Did as she was told. If given a proper chance, Sans could make the experience a whole lot more pleasant for her.

While she doesn't move right away Sans eventually catches the slight change in her posture before she shifts. Unfortunately it’s not towards him. Instead, Sans is forced to listen as she makes her way behind the sofa and over to the far wall by the stairs. She just sort of rests her back against it before slowly sliding down and slumping on the ground, her head cradled in her arms.

“Pet?” Sans didn’t get a response.

He had seriously fucked up in Waterfall and it looked like they were both paying the price. The way she kept on pulling away from him, both body and soul, it was beyond frustrating, not to mention dangerous for her. He KNEW she could harmonize with him. The violet threads binding his fractures might be faded now, but they were all the proof he needed this could work. He was so close. Maybe if he’d worked faster. Focused on her more and tried to speed up the process. Gotten a more established connection before she’d come to terms with being stuck down here. If she kept losing hope in these random spasms, she’d start to fracture.

He had seen it happen. Back when he worked full time in the lab. Not all of the humans broke because of Alphys’ experiments. In fact, a good number barely lasted three days in the confinement cells before their souls began showing the effects. It was why she liked using them so much. No soul, monster or human, can function on its own. It was a fact that monsters had long been aware of for themselves, but something they had only recently discovered was true for humans as well. It was not a truth many monsters wanted to hear but, human souls, at their heart, heh, were not that much different from monster souls, and, for some reason, all souls needed connections. Or at the very least, some sort of resonance with another, to keep them going and stable. Souls, magic, emotions, they were always in flux, alway shifting, as though trying to find what shape they needed to be to fit into the world around them. The old monster phrase, ‘United we stand, divided we fall.’ had lasted even in these dark times for a reason.

Sure Sans could find another human, harmonization couldn’t be that hard to induce after having found two humans in such a short amount of time capable of it. That said, he was loathed to lose all the progress he had made with this one. He also… well he liked spending time with her, and it wasn’t just because of how soft and warm she was against his bones, though that was certainly part of it.

Sans lightly tossed the plastic fork into the loose tangle of leftover spaghetti before turning his attention back to the still form of his pet.

She had just been so willing to seek out support from his soul when they had first met. Not pulling away from how hollow it felt, like a monster would. Willing to trust, but with a healthy, and attractive, amount of intelligence and scepticism. He liked their little battles, her little deficiencies, even if they were annoying at times. Hell, part of him wanted her lose all sense of self preservation and run out of that door just so he would have the excuse to chase her down. She needed him and she was all his. For the first time in maybe forever Sans felt powerful, not some hopeless monster that had to rely on his brother all the time.

All souls need connections, Sans was no exception. He had always kept his distance from most of the regular population, relying on his work and his brother to stop from slipping and falling like other monsters might if placed in the same situation. The scientist in him wondered if his lack of connections could be part of the reason his hope was so low; the theory had merit. When Papyrus left, he had let his work absorb him to the point where he would only nap when he had to. The fear of not waking up again ‘helped’ keep him from drifting too deep. Now his time spent in the lab was at a minimum and he saw his brother less and less every month. All he had to keep him going was this mad idea. This chance to make everything right. Maybe his little bird had reached out to him so strongly that day because he had been doing the same. He’d needed hope for a long time now, and she had given it to him.

Sans knew he was becoming attached, his own soul harmonizing to hers more than he had anticipated, but he was starting to think this experiment needed to be a two way process to work. Human souls just didn’t seem to have the capacity to change as much, or as quickly, as a monster soul could. They were more rigid and set in their ways, their flesh and blood bodies compensating for the downfall. Under enough stress, a monster soul could change enough that even their physical appearance would be affected, though the younger the monster, the easier these changes would come about.

While Sans had no intention of going that far for his pet, he could be a little more flexible now that they were past the initial phases at least. Meet her part way, so to speak. As of right now, her soul energy could work alongside his, but that didn’t mean he had any sort of control over it. Besides, his reaction to the foreign energy would likely be… less violent, if he’d spent more time adapting to it. Honestly, it looked like if he was really going to go through with this, then he was going to have to do something he hated - put in some actual effort. Was he really willing to do that? Sans took a moment to give his pet a hard stare. Yeh. He’d lost Sweetpea, he wouldn’t lose this one.

Sans shifted his gravity just enough to make it easier to get off the sofa, it was worth the scrap of magic it took to help him avoid jostling his arm.
“Sweetheart?” Again, no response. Sans could almost believe she had fallen to sleep if he wasn’t able to see the sparks and flares her soul was giving out, like the ripples in the air you would see in Hotland. Her soul was clearly wrestled with whatever turmoil it was inflicting on itself. He had to stop this… preferably without making it worse. He’d gotten plenty of practice in calming down unstable humans due to his lab work, at least before Alphys decided they needed broken souls, but each human was different and had to be handled differently. With his little bird, he would just have to wing it. Heh.

He moved to her side, her left side so his damaged arm would be out of the way. It was important he didn’t make her feel trapped or cornered. Making sure she could run or move away meant that she wouldn’t be forced to choose ‘fight’ as an option. Sure, she couldn’t actually get away from him, but that sort of logic rarely followed through when it came to decisions during high stress. Truth was, it didn’t matter how ‘advanced’ or ‘progressed’ a monster or human was, base instincts would always lead the charge.

When she didn’t move away from him Sans slowly sat down next to her, close, but not touching.
“Look, I know ya don’t want to be here.” She gave a grunt-like noise, unintentionally encouraging him with her rebuttal as it showed she was at least listening to him.
“But this ain’t so bad really.” Her soul was starting to calm down as it reactively tried to steady itself with his. All souls bounced frequencies off one another, but it was only when those frequencies remained constant and in balance that harmonization was able to happen, when two souls were able to remain in sync and work alongside one another. With monsters it meant they were able to combine attacks or boost one another, with a monster and a human… who knew what would ultimately happen.

“I hate you.”

Sans sighed as she spoke those words. Her soul might be using his to support her own but that didn’t mean or require there to be any sort of affection. Trust, maybe. Enough trust that he would support her at the very least, but then again she was leaning against the wall - she didn’t have to like the wall to use it.
“I know pet, an’ I’m not asking ya to change that. Ya don’t have to like me.” Hell, a lot of the time Sans found it hard to like himself.
“But I want ya to try and listen to me. I don’t want to hurt ya but there are a lot of things that do down here.”

“Bullshit! You almost killed me back in that cave!” There it was, something to break her out of her numbness. Anger was not really the emotion he wanted, but it was something that could keep her stable. She was looking at him now but her arms were still wrapped around her legs, still curled up and defencive.

“I know, an’ I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean for it to go that far. Sweetheart. I know fucked up. Let me make it better.” Sans risked touching her arm with the back of his hand, his knuckles barely grazing against the exposed skin. Warm. Soft. She flinched but still stayed where she was. The fact she wasn’t running was encouraging.

“You’re sorry? You… you… what you did in that cave was wrong, it was wrong in ways I don’t even have words for, and then you almost kill me, and all you can say is you’re SORRY?!” Now she pulled away, breaking the touch but not the soul connection like she had earlier, the reason she had fallen so far like this after she had seemed so stable. Sans let her have the space and was pleased when she didn’t try to get up. She was pissed off but calm.

“Yeh, an’ I think out of the two of us I’m the one currently paying the price for that little fuck up.” He held out his broken arm clearly and was glad to see her still and stop her ranting. Her lips pursed together as though biting back at her words. At least she had enough sense to know when to shut up… some of the time, anyway.
“Look, pet, I clawed my way out of that cave, alone, with my arm hanging off. I thought ya were dead for fucks sake, but I still went looking for ya. That's got ta mean something, right?” Sans had to keep himself controlled when he saw her anger deflate a little, he would lose all credibility if he started smiling at the victory he’d won over her empathy.

“Even with my arm ready to dust I went looking for ya. I care about ya sweetheart. I don’t care what ya think of me so long as ya accept that.” Sans waited for his words to settle in. Okay, it was a slightly edited version of events, but it was more or less true.
“Sure, I admit it, I fucked up. Like ya fucked up with Grillby. Like ya fucked up on that cliff and like ya fucked up and ended getting ya ass trapped down here. I had nothing to do with that sweetheart.” Sans was all for her blaming him where he had messed up but she was not going to get away with putting him at the head of all her problems. Not when he needed her to give up and let him take care of her, let him take care of everything.

“I’m only trapped because you won't let me go you asshole.” She turned back to him, her fists clenched and her soul prickling as her eyes met his. Sans found he was starting to like this side of her, but that didn’t mean he could have her snapping at him like that.

“Oh sweetheart.’ He purred, letting his voice soften and his mouth raise slightly into a smirk.
“As soon as I let you go up there you would be dead.” That was it, Sans could practically feel the fight drain from her.

“What?” Now he had her attention. Her soul fidgeted and sought for more stability from its only source. That's it, he just had to keep throwing her off balance, force her to use his soul to keep her grounded. Sans decided he needed to remove this stupid idea of returning to the surface. She had to accept it was impossible or he was going to have to deal with this sort of break down again and again. It was a hope he would never be able to keep alive for her. Better to squash it now before it could take root again.

“Look I can take ya up there to see the surface from time to time, if ya good, but, an’ it's a pretty big ‘but’.” Sans couldn’t help his glance flick down for a moment at the soft pair of cushions she personally owned.
“If ya somehow manage to give me the slip then it don’t matter how far ya run, or hide, the dogs will track ya down and kill ya and anyone ya come into contact with. Ya remember those mutts, right?”

“I…” Sans watched her pale, her soul clinging tighter to his instinctively as his own helped draw her in and encouraged her to seek comfort. Oh yes, she remembered the dogs alright.

“They have a good few in their ranks that can pass as normal dogs on the surface, make great scouts, help us keep an eye on ya species. Ya wouldn't even see ‘em coming. But they would see you. Anything from the Underground is real easy ta track up there. An’ pet -” Sans slid closer, his eyes going from her face to the soft junction of her neck that seemed made for him to nuzzle into. He resisted the temptation but still leaned in close enough that he barely had to speak to be heard.
“Ya reek of the Underground.”

“You’re lying.” Despite the words, there was no strength to her voice. Sans didn’t have to prove anything to her, she already believed him.

Her soul was quiet but still held strong. Sans offered more of his own to support hers, the two bouncing energy back and forth at a faster pace to stay connected, to know they weren't alone. He wondered briefly if she could feel anything from the exchange, he would have to find a way to test that at some point.

“I know this isn’t easy.” Sans raised his arm to stroke her cheek lightly, he couldn’t help but smile when she turned her face away but remained seated so close to him. He could feel her body heat on his bones, the shared warmth parodying their souls. Curiosity pulls at him, her soul, so close, so open. What would it hurt to have a little taste? Just to be sure, to be certain that what happened in the cave wasn’t a fluke.

He holds himself back, he wasn't strong enough yet and Sans couldn't risk this moment to indulge in his own greed. It had to be about her right now, all about her.

“You're tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of running. Tired of not knowing what's going to happen next.” Sans waits for her to speak, to deny or confirm his words, but the room remained quiet aside from her soft breathing. Her body, however, speaks volumes. Shoulders sagging, her head dropping. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Even her soul had stilled to little more than a gentle thrum, not seeking support, merely hushed and content at the gentle connection he provided.

“You don’t have to fight, pet. Not anymore. There’s nothing to prove. Just let go. Let me take care of you. Let me take care of everything.” He slips his good arm behind her back and gently rests his phalanges on her shoulder, his index ghosting along the skin. When she doesn't fight back at the contact, he adds a little bit of pressure and guides her into leaning into him, her head resting on his shoulder, her hair drifting around his bones and touching him like spider silk. So soft. So warm.

“That's it, sweetheart. Sans will take care of everything. Ya mine to look after, to take care of. I got ya. I got ya.”

Chapter Text

“You’re lying.” He had to be. He had to be lying… didn't he?

It made sense though. It explained why no one on the surface seemed to know what was going on beneath their feet, or that monsters actually existed. The simple fact was that no one got out. At least no one got out long enough to talk. Thinking back, you had seen a lot of dogs around the hotel the day before everything went to hell. Were they really monsters? Shit. You had pet one, rubbed its belly and everything. What about other monsters? What about bigfoot sightings? Or alien abductions? Or any number of paranormal reports? Were these creatures already that far spread?

So that was it then?
No way out.
Correction: one way ‘out’. Ending it all was an option, though not one you wanted to think about, not unless you lost all hope. You were alive right now, and that was hope enough.

Your grim thoughts were broken at the touch of skeletal fingers against your cheek.
“I know this isn’t easy.” You turn away. You didn’t need him pawing at you. What did he expect? That you would just give up and he could do whatever he wanted to you? That if he kept to locked up long enough you would grow to accept him like some sort of twisted beauty and the beast story? To hell with that!

What had you done wrong in your life?
Nothing really came to mind and you wondered if maybe it was in a past life. That was a thing right? Past lives, reincarnation, karma? After all, if monsters were real then why not all that other stuff. It made about as much sense as the rest of this crap. Whatever you had done to upset the universe must have been something horrendous to end up sitting on the floor with a skeleton.

A living skeleton. That was weird, right? It should be weird but… it wasn’t. Not anymore, at least. With everything you had seen these past few days you don’t think anything would ever truly shock you again. Your whole understanding of the world had turned upside down and inside out; nothing made sense. You almost hope that you're insane. After all, how could this be real? Things like this didn’t happen. Things like this couldn’t happen. You had been fighting against your senses ever since entering the Underground. This had to all just be some weird drug-induced nightmare. This couldn't be your life.

But everything felt so real.

Everything hurt so much.

“You're tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of running. Tired of not knowing what's going to happen next.” Sans’ words hit home. You were tired. You were tired in every possible way. Your joints ached in places you didn't know they could. Your gut hurt, likely from the badly cooked spaghetti. Your head felt like it was full of cotton wool and your heart… or, maybe your soul? Whatever it was, it felt so heavy. You don’t think you could get up off the floor even if you tried. Your head sags back down against your knees as you try to block out the light from the room.

What are you doing? What was the point? If this wasn’t real then none of it mattered, you just had to wait till you woke up. And if it was real, then what the hell were you meant to do about it? You were trapped down here and it was your own fucking fault! You had come to the mountain looking for adventure and fate had delivered. Be careful what you wish for. Nothing is without a cost. Maybe you should have paid more attention to fairy tales than the latest TV series.

Ugh, this wasn’t helping! Focus. There had to be some way to fix this.

If what Sans said was true, then even if you could get to the surface, you would have to spend whatever life you had left running. A brief moment in the sunlight before you got ripped apart by monster dogs. Maybe you could get away, hide somewhere? You would have to keep moving, but, no. No, you would never be safe. You would always have to keep looking over your shoulder, never be able to sleep without fear. Any attempt to try and contact friends or family would only put them in danger. The media? The police? What were you meant to say that wouldn't get you thrown in a padded cell? The truth was, you never stood a chance from the start, did you? Check and mate. Monsters one, clueless human zero.

It’s not fair! Why? Why was this happening to you? You weren't a bad person. You’d lead a good life, or, at least you’d tried to. You were too young to die. There was too much left for you to do. You had never even made a bucket list, let alone completed anything from it. There had to be some sort of a rule. Something to stop people who had yet to really live from dying. It wasn’t RIGHT!

But that's just how the world works, wasn’t it? Even on the surface people die all the time. Good people die. Children, babies. What chance did you stand? You didn’t have any more ‘right’ to live than anyone else.

What little strength you had vanished as you realized you could shout and scream all you wanted, no one was going to listen. No one cared what was fair, what was right. Because that was just how the world was. No one cared what happened to you, why would they? Ultimately, in the grand scheme of things, you didn’t matter. Hell, there were who knows how many people trapped in that monster run laboratory being experimented on, tortured and ripped apart, and no one cared about them. No one was helping them. No one on the surface probably even knew about them. Just another missing person, another lost soul. So why not you? Why should you be special? Why should the world make an exception for you by playing fair or nice?

Life wasn’t fair. The statement suddenly felt lighter. Not a curse, or an angry declaration. It just ‘was’. The sky is blue. Fire is hot, and for all intents and purposes, this was happening.

Everything clicked into place as your thoughts became calmer and you gained a realistic perspective. This world sucked, but it sucked for everyone. You weren't being punished or picked on, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. This wasn’t your fault, it was just a bad roll of the dice. You weren't to blame.

You almost forgot Sans was sitting next to you on the floor until he spoke.
“You don’t have to fight pet. Not anymore. There’s nothing to prove. Just let go. Let me take care of you. Let me take care of everything.” You really didn’t have to fight, did you? Because now that you looked at things, there was nothing to fight. Not really. Fighting against how ‘unfair’ this all was suddenly looked childish.

The feeling of Sans’ phalanges on your shoulder, his arm gently resting against your back, it urged you to move closer, to take what little comfort you could. The world didn’t care about you but, in his own way, Sans did. You hated him. Hated him for everything he had put you through. He was just using you, selfish. So, maybe, it was only fair you should use him, right? It took just a small shift to find yourself resting against him, letting this creature made of bones support you. You didn’t have to fight. You could just… sit, for a while. Let the world keep moving while you took a break. So tired.

“That's it sweetheart. Sans will take care of everything. Ya mine to look after, to take care of. I got ya. I got ya.” You feel a tiny spike of annoyance at those calming, hushed, words. You weren't ‘his’, no one owned you, but you didn’t want to fight. He could believe what he wanted, it didn’t matter, so long as you knew the truth then you could let him think he had won to earn a little peace.

The room remained quiet. A warm silence, like a blanket. Soft and comfortable, as though it was wrapped snugly around you. You were glad Sans seemed just as content to enjoy this lull in the fighting as you were. His hand slipped from your shoulder to tangle in the hair behind your left ear. His touch was barely a whisper against your skin. You didn’t want him touching you but - it felt nice. Arguing would break the peace. There was no real reason to fight this touch. Not when it helped calm your thoughts and pull you closer to sleep. It was better to pick your battles.

Unfortunately the position you were in, as well as the fact that Sans was just bones without the normal padding of flesh, fat and muscle, meant you were already starting to become uncomfortable. You should move. You didn’t want to. You needed this. This quiet, this peace. Sans, however, must have sensed something and started to move. Either that or he also found the position uncomfortable.

It was only when you actually turn your head and look at Sans that you realize he was not wearing a top or shirt, his ribcage exposed and open to the air. When had he...? Right, you had been washing him, his arm likely made it difficult to re-dress. This was strange. He was so close. You could see scarring on his ribs, knicks and dents from wear. His shorts curved over his Iliac crest yet still hung open enough for you to see straight down into his pelvis. Wow, this felt wrong. You turn your head away from the sight, embarrassment suddenly blossoming in a confusing barrage. He was just bones. You had seen plenty of skeletons at school, particularly during Halloween. This shouldn’t be embarrassing or uncomfortable.

But that was it, wasn’t it? Sans might look like a skeleton but you had stopped thinking of him as a horror prop not long after you had met him. He was a monster, and a good deal many other things, but he was also a ‘person’, even if he wasn’t human. Why did this have to be so… so… ?! Fuck! Even your language seemed limited down here. You just didn’t have the words to describe or explain these things. ‘Person’ seemed right for Sans, even if you were at a loss for how to explain everything else.

“Ya can look sweetheart, I don’t mind.” You can hear the humor in Sans’ voice and are certain he probably has that shit eating grin on his skull.

He was just bones. Why should you be embarrassed? He ogled you enough when you were nude and, while you had no inclination to ‘ogle’ him back, you could not spend your time down here never looking at him, no matter how much you might enjoy never seeing the smug bastard again. You had to think logically about this. He liked making you react, seeing the effect he had on you. So, in that case, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. The sight of his bones should get no more response from you than a chair, or a table, or a stone. Maybe if you didn't react he would grow bored of you. Even if it was just enough to make him leave you alone.

You steeled yourself as you turn around and looked at him, a sweeping glance up his torso before meeting his sockets. Just bones. Not a big deal. His smile grated on you, that and the fact you couldn’t read his eyes. The red lights floating in his sockets flickered, moved, and pulsed, but it was hard to really judge anything from him other than extreme changes in emotion. You had a feeling that Sans had no such problem reading you. At least you were feeling calmer now and your thoughts were not stuttering and flailing about as you drowned in your own emotions. You had just needed a little time to calm down and get a hold of yourself.

“W-what now?” You hated that your voice faltered. You needed to look strong and confident.

“Now we are going to head up to my room-” That was all you needed to hear to make you pull away from Sans. The problem was that his hand, the one that had been idly stroking your hair, now had a firm grip holding you in place.
“Don't.” You still. His voice had dropped and you had no problem reading the flash that his eyelights had just given. He lets you take a moment, almost daring you to continue. You don’t.

The bones in your hair loosen their hold and return to gently stroking the strands, but the touch didn’t feel anywhere near as relaxing as it had before.
“As I was saying, pet, we are going to head up to my room-” Sans pauses, waiting for you to react. You don’t pull away but you can’t help but feel yourself tense up.
“And sleep. We’re both tired an’ on edge. Everything will look better tomorrow.”

“Just sleep?” He did look tired. At least, you think he looked tired. The lights in his eyes were a little dimmer than you remember and his posture just seemed a little more lax. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn't try something up there, the memories of your last night in his room were still fresh in your mind, if a little cloudy, despite all that had happened in the time between.

“Why? What else did you have in mind, pet?” God, that smile of his made your skin crawl, that and the fact he was insinuating you were the one having dirty thoughts made you feel sick. In your head you were calling him all the names under the sun, but you couldn’t let him see he was getting to you.

“Nothing.” That was it. You just had to stay calm. Shrug it off, like water off a duck’s back.

“Good, I’m too tired for anything else. We’re just gonna’ sleep sweetheart. Nothin’ more.” Sleep would be good right about now, but the idea of stepping foot in that room again, let alone climbing into his bed… No, no, there had to be a way out of that.

“Can I sleep down here?” If he just wanted to sleep then he wouldn’t mind, right? The sofa was lumpy but it was pure luxury compared to the last few places you had slept.

“Sure, pet,” Hope blossomed.
“But ya soul’s coming with me.” Only to wilt just as quickly. Your hands reach up and press the spot on your chest above your sternum, the place you thought your soul was. You didn’t remember everything that had happened that first night, the night you had spent down here without your soul, just that it was bad, really bad.

“Can I keep my soul if I go with you? No cage or anything.” The words come slowly, carefully. Each one measured. Sans looked like he was weighing up the options.

“If I hear no more complaining, and we head straight to bed now, then ya can keep ya soul with ya tonight.” Relief washes over you. It might not have been the result you had wanted but at least you would get to keep your soul. You look up towards the second floor balcony, the top of the doorframe just visible from where you sat.

“Okay.” You nod. If he was going to do anything to you it wouldn’t matter where you were anyway, he had proven that in the caves. Besides, maybe things would be easier if Sans thought he had won, that he had a loyal ‘pet’. You don’t keep training a dog once it’s learnt its tricks. So, if you play the part then maybe… maybe he would ease up on his lessons?

A moment passes where neither of you move. Didn’t he say he wanted to go to bed now? Was he waiting for you to move first? Eww, did he want to make it look like you were eager to climb in that bed of his?


“Yes?” God you hated responding to that name. You bite back a retort. It was just a name, it didn’t matter what he called you.

“Mind giving me a hand? I seem to be down one.” You frown then realize that Sans appeared to be… stuck? You had to stop yourself from laughing on impulse as you get up and look down at your crippled tormentor’s predicament. He offered his right hand up towards you, clearly waiting for you to help pull him to his feet. He probably could get up by himself, though it would not be easy with his one arm out of action, not to mention his bulk to contend with. Wow, this felt… really good.

What had he asked you again? Give him a hand? You smile, and start clapping.

“Oh har har. Yeah, ya got me on that one. Come on pet, I’m tired.” He was smiling and you feel yourself relax as you reach forward and grab his offered hand with both of your own. That had been a dumb thing to do, make fun of him like that, but it looked like you got away with it. Sans seemed to like jokes, even if most of the time they were at your expense, and filthy. So you could push a little if it was funny? That was worth remembering. Not to mention it had felt good to turn the tables on him slightly.

Sans was surprisingly heavy for something just made of bones but you manage to help him get to his feet without too much difficulty. His bones felt strange in your hands, like each one could pop off its joint with ease. You were a little unsure how safe it was to pull on his limb if you were being honest. True, he seemed to stay together surprisingly well, but how was a complete mystery. Magic. Might as well just explain everything away with ‘magic’.

Sans decided to flaunt his strength and unnatural ability to stay in one piece by keeping hold of your left hand after he was standing. His grip didn’t hurt but it was tightly wrapped around your wrist as securely as a shackle. He used it to slowly pull you closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Sans-” Your complaint is cut off before it could start.

“Pet, what did I say?” He loosens his grip on your wrist when you are barely a breath away from him, but only so he can slide his phalanges slowly up your arm as he talks.
“Ya get to keep that pretty little soul of yours tonight.” When his hand reaches your shoulder, he traces your collarbone under his borrowed shirt before lifting his hand and taking hold of your chin,his thumb brushing against your lips.
“But only if I don’t hear any more complaining. Capeesh?”

You nod, but Sans tilts his skull down slightly and gives you a hard stare.
“Yes, Sans.” The dark look he had given you melts away to be replaced by his normal smug grin.

“That’s my girl. Well then, lead the way sweetheart.” His hand pulls away and sweeps towards the stairs, his smile somehow getting wider. So he was going to make you walk there of your own volition.

You should be thankful he was not manhandling you into his room, but as you slowly make your way up the stairs, with Sans two steps behind you, you can’t help but hate yourself. You were meant to be a modern woman. A headstrong, independent person that had moved past primitive gender roles. Yet here you were climbing into someone's bed just to live another day. You knew, logically, it made sense. But logic didn’t blend well with feelings.

A touch to your rear end makes your jump and turn around.
“Sweetheart, quit mopin’ and start movin’ before I decide to sleep here and use that lovely ass of yours as a pillow.” You bite your tongue to keep yourself from answering back. This was happening and shouting and screaming was not going to change anything. All you could do was keep Sans happy and yourself in one piece. He had done far worse than touch your backside up until now.

The room was as you had left it: a mess. A stinking mess. You could smell him and… sex. It made your lip curl in disgust. You can’t help but stall at the sight of the bed. Sans didn’t wait for you to get used to the stench. He simply pushed himself and, in turn, you, into the room before closing the door with a click of the lock.

No way out.

“Clothes off, pet.” Just sleep. That’s all he wanted to do. Just sleep. You can’t stop the slight tremor in your hands as you strip the shirt and shorts off. Sans watches, but he didn’t seem to want a show this time around. As you step out of your shorts he moves in closer, his right hand brushing the side of your face to tilt it up before moving his phalanges down to your neck. You hear something click before the bone belt you had been forced to wear is removed from your neck, its length uncoiling like a snake and sending a shiver down your spine.

“Bed.” You could hear the weariness in his voice, something you were very grateful for as you follow and wait for him to climb into bed, your hands absently rubbing against your neck to clear away the feeling of the collar. His movements are careful and measured, clearly trying to avoid knocking his arm. Would this change in him remain when he healed, or would he revert to bullying and threatening you again? There was no way of knowing, so there was no point in worrying about it now. What would happen, would happen.

Sans holds the covers open and you choose not to try his patience. You had already seen he could drag you about like a ragdoll if he really wanted to, and you didn’t want to give him a reason to do it again. The feel of his… magic? Whatever it was, the feel of it holding you, clutching at your very being and dragging it wherever he wanted to was not something you ever wanted to feel again. Taking a breath, you try to stay calm. You still had your soul. It was a small comfort, but it was one of the few you had.

Despite your attempts to perch on the very edge of the mattress, Sans pulls you over to his side, tucking you just beneath his armpit. His right arm caged you against him, his ribs flush against your cheek. Hard, uncomfortable, but warm.

Tomorrow was another day. You could do this. You could learn how to work with Sans. To pick your battles, and look for opportunities. Life wasn’t fair, but while you were alive there was still hope.

Chapter Text

Despite how tired you are, you find yourself awake and alert to the small world of Sans’ room. Your eyes adjust to the gloom slowly, and while most of the colour was absent, you could make out shapes and shadows. Not that there was much to look at. You’re barely able to move your head, and thus are stuck with little more than a view of the ceiling and a glow from the top of the covered window. Sans remains still at your side, and you can only assume he is asleep or playing possum. All that really mattered was the fact he was keeping his word and leaving you alone. A small mercy, but one you would gladly take.

Continuing to stare at the plastered surface above, tracing a faint crack from one of the walls, something catches your eyes. You’re not sure if it's a trick of the light, or simply down to being tired, but you’re sure you can see something. Two, no three, barely glowing spots of dull green light. They reminded you of those glow-in-the-dark stickers you could pick up free in kids’ magazines, though it was absurd to think that Sans would have anything so silly and childish around the house. It could be blood for all you knew about this world and its monsters. Those aliens from the Predator films had glowing green blood, right? Sans had, sort of, leaked that glowing red stuff, which you guess could be thought of as blood. Maybe Sans had green boogers that glowed in the dark, he struck you as the sort of guy who would spend his days lazing in bed trying to flick them up to the ceiling.

And here you were, trapped next to him. In his stinking bed. On his stained sheets. Pressed up against his bones like you were some sort of body pillow. And, despite all of that, you were still in one piece. You weren't hungry or thirsty, and you were, somewhat, comfortable and warm. There was no doubt in your mind how much you hated Sans, but you were enough of an adult to admit you were grateful for the small things. He was a monster, in all senses of the word, but he could be so much worse. This was… manageable. If only he could learn to treat you like an actual person.

You try to push aside your thoughts and focus on the here and now, which boiled down to just one thing: sleeping. You really wanted to get a full night's rest in a bed for a change, but your own brain was currently betraying you. Every time you managed to push aside one set of thoughts, or worries, or memories, you would be bombarded with others. Too much had happened in too short amount of time, and now, in the darkness and silence, it was proving to be too much to take in. You just want to shut it out. To forget. Even if it was just for one night. Come morning you would be able to process everything, when your brain could hold onto a thought for longer than a minute.

“Pet, go to sleep.” All thoughts stop as his voice breaks the silence. As your brain came to a screeching halt, it would have almost been a blissful moment of calm if not for the knot of fear in your chest. You’d hoped Sans had fallen asleep a while ago, he’d certainly not had a problem doing so back at Gerson’s. Then again, neither had you. How did he even know you were awake? Had you shifted or something? Could it be your breathing? Or maybe he doesn't really know and was just guessing, trying to catch you out. You’re pretty sure he can’t see you from this angle. You could just pretend to be asleep, for no other reason than to avoid pissing him off.

Sleep. Sleep. Think sleepy thoughts. Counting sheep? Did that even work? Maybe you just needed to relax. Try to think of a happy place. That was a thing right? Happy, calm. Blue skies, fluffy clouds. Maybe a beach. Crashing waves, water lapping against the shore, laid out on the sand, the sun warm above you. Sweet scents on the breeze. Flowers. The gentle rustling of the petals, like whispers on the wind… whispers in the dark. No. No, not flowers, you didn’t want to see any flowers for a long time. Your eyes open to escape your imaginings but the room was suddenly too dark, and you’re sure you can see an ethereal blue on the edge of your vision. Biting your lip, you quickly push the creeping memories away. The last thing you needed was to have your thoughts trapped back in that cave.

Sans grumbles next to you, his chest against your cheek forcing you to feel the vibrations as much as hear it.
“Sorry.” You whisper. He was annoyed, and you were pretty sure you were the cause, even if you couldn’t work out how it was you were annoying him. It was better to just apologize right away and skip any drama. After all, there was nothing to learn, if you already admitted you were in the wrong.

You felt a small ache in your chest and a bitter taste in your mouth. Disgusted with yourself for so quickly giving up and rolling over. It was not something you were really comfortable doing but if it kept you safe, and Sans happy, then what did it matter? It was just a word. ‘Yes, Sans’ ‘No, Sans’ ‘Three bags, four, Sans’. Nothing but empty words. Hell, you would twitter like a bird if it kept him off you. The problem was, you were not sure where your limits were at the moment, and that scared you.

“Pet, quit ya worrying. Just relax an’ go to sleep.” Sans sounded tired and frustrated, but not angry. Maybe he understood that your current insomnia was not something you were doing on purpose. Closing your eyes you try to will yourself to sleep, only to find it seemed to have to opposite effect. Your head buzzed with thoughts, fears, questions and memories. Like it was running at double speed. The light in the room changes to a more red tint. Sans must have opened his eyes, fuck. That was not the sort of night light you wanted.

“I… I can’t.” You quickly blurt out to avoid what ever Sans had in mind to ‘fix’ the problem. He grumbled at you again. Was it possible that he would kick you out of his bed to get some sleep? The floor was hardly an improvement to a warm bed, but it did come sans Sans. The skeleton, however, made no move to evict you. Instead, he talked.

“There once was a bunny named Fluffy.” His voice cut through the darkness and your tangle of thoughts, but you were lost as to why he was talking.

“What?” You try to turn your head to look at him but only manage to shift a little. Had you missed something? Maybe you had nodded off without realizing it.

“I’m telling ya a bedtime story.” Your eyes widen before you try to blink away your surprise. A story? That’s… unexpected.
“Look, it always helped my brother sleep.” Sans sounded unsure, his usual confidence missing for a change.
“Worth a shot right?” You guess. Gazing into the gloom with only your thoughts to keep you company was clearly not helping. You don’t remember the last time you’d had a bedtime story, if ever.

“Okay…” You were still a little hesitant. Was Sans really doing this? You could not imagine this ‘creature’ taking part in something so innocent, so domestic. Then again, he’d said that monsters had families, was it really so strange they would do family-like things, ‘human’ like things? Reading bedtime stories? What next? A lullaby?

He shifts in bed, likely to get a little more comfortable, before giving you a little squeeze and relaxing.
“So now, Fluffy bunny went exploring one day when they came across the sea. Having never seen the sea before, Fluffy bunny wanted to explore.” Sans was… Sans was really telling you some sort of kid’s bedtime story. What the hell was going on? Why? Had he banged his head or something during the cave in? Was this a sort of delayed reaction? First he treats you like a sex toy, then a pet and now a child?

With no small amount of effort you fight off the confusion and questions. It’s not like you had ever been able to explain what the hell was going on since ending up down here, why should things start to change now? Settling back to just listen, you try and ignore the uncertainty that buzzed at the edges of your consciousness. Every time you tried to work out why Sans did things, it just gave you a headache. He was telling a story to help you sleep. Simple. Weird, but simple.

“Fluffy bunny liked the sand, it tickled their paws and was fun to run on and dig in. Then Fluffy bunny found a shell. It was pretty and white and soon they were collecting more shells. They could be taken home an’ given to friends so everyone would get a piece of the sea.”

Your eyes start to drift. The story was clearly meant for little children, so simple and pure, a stark contrast to the voice that was telling it. But it was also surprisingly effective as Sans’ soft tone lured you down. His words cutting through the noise in your head, while the story’s simplicity left you with nothing to hang on to, nothing for your mind to really focus on and keep you from sleep. You drift. Eyes closed as your breathing slowed.

“Fluffy bunny decided it would be a fine adventure to find a boat an’ try sailing. But Fluffy bunny didn’t know how to sail, an’ soon found themselves swept out by the tide, the land no longer in view.”

You only half hear the words. You let them drag you down, their meaning and structure lost. Warm. Calm. Safe. Safe. The feelings wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Poor Fluffy bunny didn’t know how to swim an’ as they drifted further and further away, they began to cry.”

You could feel yourself drifting further away, like it was you adrift in the sea, but you didn’t cry or fight. Just drifted. Sleep. Safe. Mine.

“But nobody came.”

8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8 8=8

There is something wonderful about sleeping enough that you naturally wake up, the slow unraveling, the feeling of contentment following you from the land of nod. It was a rare luxury for nearly everyone, least of all you at the moment. What’s left of your dreams is nothing but cobwebs and clouds, fragments that make no sense and break apart if you try to hold onto them too tightly. Thoughts slip. You remember the sea, and maybe a shark? Something with teeth anyway.

You’re warm, comfortable, and have no urge to change either of those facts. So your eyes remained closed, shutting out anything that might want to grab your attention. You knew you’d slept all you could, for now at least, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t just enjoy drifting on the edge of wakefulness for a while longer. The world could carry on without you for at least for now.

An approving hum leaves your throat as you notice your hair is gently being played with. The strands slowly lifted and moved as digits glide between. A butterfly touch. It was relaxing, and kept you from thinking too much, thus, away from any sort of clarity that would draw you away from this blissful dozing. However, when the touch moves to your shoulders, smooth bones tracing light patterns over your skin, you frown and turn your head, eyes blinking as they relearned to focus.

Sans lay on his side with a lazy grin on his face, his phalanges continuing their dance without pause. You groan and turn your back on him. Ugh, that was not a face you would wish anyone to wake up to.
“Morning, pet.” You ignore him, not giving him the satisfaction of getting any sort of emotional response from you. Bones tap against your shoulder.
“Ya know it’s only polite to say ‘good morning’ back.”

‘It’s only words. Just meaningless words.’ You remind yourself.
“Morning Sans.” You keep your voice flat and level, your eyes focusing in the perpetually shadowed room, just about making out his messy piles of clothes in the gloom.

Phalanges slowly ‘walk’ off your shoulder, down your ribs and towards your raised hip. Sans had clearly woken up ‘happy’ and while that didn’t bode well at least you hadn’t kept him awake last night, that likely would not have been a fun experience. He gives off that strange purr of his before reaching round to your belly and pulling you flush with him to spoon. Joy. Now it wasn’t just bones sticking in your back, as a comparatively soft lump also made its presence known.

Your look down to see his finger bones against your skin coated with nothing more then a slightly red sheen; all that was left from the weird stuff he’d leaked when he was hurt.
“Your arm is feeling better then.” So much for a few days of peace.

He makes a confirming noise as he nuzzles the back of your neck, teeth threatening to bite but raising only goose flesh, not blood. His other arm, which had been stretched out on the pillow above your head, moved to grab at your chest. But your hands were quicker and cross over your boobs before he can reach his prize. Hitting fingers instead of squishy parts, Sans lifts his head to look over your shoulder. He chuckles right next to your ear before you feel the wet, warm touch of his tongue snake along its outer edge.

“I can always find other ways to keep myself amused.” He grinds his hips into your ass as he whispers in your ear. A shiver runs up your spine from his voice, and a tight knot forms in your gut from… other sensations.

“Grabbing my tits won’t stop that from happening.” Like he would really trade a fondle for a fuck. You keep your hands in place.

“True, but it will give ya time to get ready for me.” His left hand slips lower, dancing against your lips.
“Unless ya don’t need any extra encouragement.” Asshole. You try to angle your hips away from his touch, even if it meant you had to push yourself tighter against his groin. The pervert actually whines like a child would when they can’t get something they want.
“Come on sweetheart, it’s more fun when ya enjoy it too.”

You couldn’t stop whatever he was going to do to you, but you sure as hell would not willingly participate in it. Maybe he really would grow bored if you kept your reactions in check. It was about the only thing you could keep from him.
“I guess you’re out of luck then.”

“I prefer to make my own luck pet.” His idle hand was busying itself by tracing your fingers, like if he could find the right sequence they would open up for him.
“What’s so wrong with enjoying ya’self?” He waits for an answer until it’s apparent one is not on its way.
“I don’t get it. Why fight something good?”

“Because I don’t have any choice!” You can’t help but snap back. What the fuck was wrong with him? Could he really not understand that you couldn’t force someone like this? That an orgasm was not proof that someone enjoyed, or even wanted, that sort of attention?

Sans grumbled, his hand giving up its attempts at getting to your chest.
“How many times pet? Ya have choices. Accept or fight. Live or die. It’s all the same to me. Hell. Only one hurting you, is you.” How could he sound so calm? So matter-of-fact? Was the world down here so cruel that a life could be thought of so simply? That if things got too bad, ending it was a perfectly normal solution?

“I don’t want to die, but I can’t just...” You didn’t even want to put it into words. How do you even begin to explain how this is wrong to someone with that sort of twisted world view?

“Stop hurting ya’self sweetheart.” He holds you close, though for once it didn’t feel sexual. It was like he was holding something precious, like he actually cared.
“Ain’t nobody going to know. No one to judge. Just you and me.”

“I’ll know.” Your voice is barely a whisper. You had danced these steps before, Sans always in the lead, but what else could you do?

“Give me a chance sweetheart. Just one. Let me show ya what ya can have, what I can give ya. I knock down every wall ya put up, so why not open the door for a change.”

Was it bad you were actually considering the offer? You had been fighting almost every moment down here, and not once had you won. Every fight you felt like you came away weaker. What was that quote? ‘My will is as strong as yours.’. No… no it wasn’t. How long could you keep fighting before you broke completely? Maybe if you took control, if you went with the current, instead of fighting against it, you could keep your head above water long enough to find a way out.

You had to stay alive. That was a fact that wouldn’t change. Life meant there was a chance, that there was hope. There was no question that Sans would take whatever he wanted, no matter what you said, but if you gave him what he wanted, if you didn’t fight… maybe he would start to trust you more, start to loosen his hold. It was all the same in the end, really. This wasn’t a battle you could win, but there would be others. You let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding, your body relaxing into Sans’ embrace.

“That’s it sweetheart. Shh. I got ya. Sans’ll take care of everything.” His hand moved back to your chest. You didn’t move right away, your hands still locked over your breasts, but you didn’t fight or resist as he moved them out the way.

You can feel that his bones are just a little cooler than your skin as he slowly strokes along the undercurve. Laying on your side meant they hung differently and Sans seemed fascinated judging by the way he cupped them and let the weight naturally fall.

“Sweetheart, ya perfect.” He nuzzled into the back of your neck, words barely a whisper in your ear.
“‘S’like ya were made for me.” You hated the way his words only seemed to heighten the feel of his gentle touch. You had never felt so… so special, before. Sans always made it sound like the whole world revolved around you. That you were important.

His thumb traces around the dark flesh of your areola, carefully drawing your nipple to a peak without touching it. It was torture, but even arching your back at his touch couldn’t encourage him to release you from it. You were giving him what he wanted, why did he have to tease you? When he ignored the invitation you push your ass into his hips and grind slowly against him. You didn’t want him drawing this out. He was just supposed to use you, not make you feel like this.

“Someone’s eager.” He chuckles, catching hold of your nipple and rolling it between slender bones. The shooting pains felt… no, not pain, it was like sparks or, or little jolts of pleasure. You lick your lips. Just that small touch from him had sent a shiver along your entire body, making every hair stand on end. You whine softly. Why did it have to feel so good. You just wanted to get this over and done with.

“Sweetheart, I said I would take care of ya.” He nips at your shoulder as his other hand plays on your hip. You can feel yourself unwinding at his touch, it’s all too much and too little at the same time.
“An’ I’ve got all day to learn how. Relax. By the time I’m done, ya won’t even remember ya name.”

Chapter Text

“Heh heh. Relax pet. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” You didn’t realize just how tense you’d become at Sans’ declaration until you let out the breath you were holding.
Who the hell says things like that? Aside from actors in bad pornos, but that was a given. Apparently, also, demonic skeletons intent on getting laid first thing in the morning... it was morning right? You look towards the lone window in the room only to berate yourself for forgetting the simple fact you were stuck underground, in perpetual half light, with about as much insight into the time, or even day, as a rock.

Is it too late to go back to sleep? Judging by the way your body was responding to Sans’ touch, yes. Yes it was.

“By the time I’m done, ya won’t even remember ya name.” To hell with relaxing! How were you meant to respond to Sans telling you to relax before he jumps your non-visible bones? Just… FUCK! Oh right, that was kind of the idea. The worst part, about this whole thing, was you were not completely against the idea. UGG! You were not ready to deal with this shit right now. Or ever. Maybe you could somehow sink into the mattress, become one with the stains and smells. Or invisible! That would be good.

You… you couldn’t do this. This was wrong on so many levels. This was everything you had been fighting against since Sans dragged you into his house. What was the point of all that fighting if you were just going to give in now? To let this happen to you? Sans was going to get his way in the end so… No. At least fighting you would have some sort of dignity left, some sort of self respect.

Not that it really meant anything anymore. Fuck!

Your thoughts are silenced for a moment as Sans returns to playing with your nipple, rolling it between his bones while tracing the swell of your breasts with his unoccupied phalanges. How, in this whole damn underground, did a skeleton know what to do with breasts? Because from the sensations you were currently experiencing, Sans REALLY knew what he could do with yours. Caught off guard, your eyes lose focus for a moment when Sans licks from your collarbone to below your ear. It should have been disgusting, but instead it made you gasp as you drowned in the touch.

“Ya thinking too much pet.” It wasn’t so much a warning, but you had learnt to pick up on the slight growl in his voice. It wasn’t a warning - yet. The real problem was even you didn’t know how to calm down right now. It was hard enough staying focused and not dissolving into another meltdown at the best of times. Freaking out right now wouldn’t help anyone, least of all you. You had to keep things simple, manageable. You just had to keep Sans happy. That was easy enough. Sort of. He was a fairly easy guy to please. But, maybe you could convince him to ease off a little, to give you more time to come around to the idea. Would the next ice age be seen as too long? Ice would be good right now actually. A nice cold icy bath to cool off in.

When he moved his hand from your tortured breast, likely to fondle another body part, you spot something in the half light, not exactly a weapon, but it might work. Using the brief respite you reach forward to try to grab it from the floor, a task made much simpler with the mattress sitting directly on the carpet rather than on any frame. Sans curled around you tighter, his free hand quickly tangling in your hair, not quite pulling, but the threat was there.

“Where d’ya think ya going pet?” He clearly wasn’t going to let you up off the bed, but he sounded more playful than angry. Getting up, however, hadn't been your goal. Your fingers had managed to curl around the scrap of material you’d seen before you were pulled back into his grasp, though its unexpected crusty texture almost had you dropping it in disgust.

“Here.” You toss the filthy sock, that might once have been white, at the creep behind you.
“Just use that to get your rocks off, I’m still tired.” A lie of course, you likely couldn’t sleep another wink even if you tried, but you hoped it was a lie Sans would accept. He had been a lot more careful with you recently, for good reason if your breakdowns were anything to go by, so maybe he would let you get some more rest? Your hope died quickly, as it so often did.

“What the- pff heh heh. Looks like someone is a little boulder after a nap. Though, maybe you’d like to wear it?” Sans dangles the offending item in front of your face, and way too close to your nose.
“I’ve noticed ya shivering a bit.”

“Egh, no, get it away.” You bat at the ‘well loved’ article of clothing and managed to launch it across the room from his grip. You didn’t put it past him to try and make you wear it, so hopefully it landed somewhere out of sight. So much for a good idea.

“Heh heh, maybe ya just need me ta warm ya up? Hmmm, though ya feel pretty hot to me, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, you’re not sure how at this point, as you’re already flush against him. He was warm, but he was also very hard and pokey, and that was excluding the way his phalanges kept roaming your body. It might be true that you were shivering, but it certainly wasn’t from the cold.

“Sans, I-”

He cuts you off before you are even sure what you were going to say.
“Look, I ain’t askin’ for ya to say ‘yes’ sweetheart.” He nuzzles into your neck.
“I’m just askin’ ya not to say ‘no’.” A thick boned leg slides, slowly, against yours, clearly enjoying the feel of your skin. You couldn’t really say that the sensation was all that unpleasant yourself.
“It ain’t hard pet. Heh heh, well the choice ain’t hard at least.” Again with the filthy jokes? Ugh. like you needed to be reminded of the clearly not bone lump digging into the base of your spine. You’re fairly sure you can feel his shorts getting a little damp too, embarrassingly it’s not the only thing getting damp.

To agree by omission? That was basically what Sans was asking. It was almost considerate, if it wasn’t so manipulative. After all, he could make you say ‘yes’. Or just not care what you said, and force you. But, maybe he knew it would be a lie if you said ‘yes’. Now that you think about it, at no point had Sans ever made you say you liked any of this. Not to humiliate you, or to get any sort of gratification. Even when you told him you hated him he would just nod and say ‘I know’. Just what did Sans want?

The skeleton was back to grazing and nipping at your skin, he was clearly in no hurry, the hand in your hair lazily playing with the strands, while teeth focused mainly along your shoulder and the back of your neck. As if that wasn’t enough, you could feel his jelly-like tongue occasionally slipping over the surface marks left in your skin, causing a warm tingling wherever it went. The whole process was proving to be really… distracting, and you have to hold yourself from rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve the itch below. It was one thing for Sans to do all of this to you, it was quite another to let him see the effect.

What the hell was wrong with you? He had teeth that would make a great white envious, so to have them this close to ripping your throat out should be terrifying, not making you lean closer into his touch. And it wasn’t just his teeth. Sans could kill you at any moment, in so many ways, with very little effort. You were practically in bed with death.

You can’t help the little laugh that slips out of you. It was funny because he was a skeleton. Your mood drops again as you realize it wasn’t just death you were dancing with, but also your sanity.

Sans moves the hand resting on your hip to press lightly against the bottom of your sternum, holding you just that little bit closer. Your thoughts grow steadier as he holds you. You feel so… safe, protected. He could kill you easily, but instead he was being careful, measured with how much pressure he used and how he held you. Why did it have to be a monster to make you feel like you mattered in this world? That you were more than just another faceless person blindly making their way through life. Out of everyone, Sans had picked you. That had to mean something, didn’t it? He’d said he didn’t want anyone else. He made you special, and you hated him for it.

You just had to… to let this happen. To keep Sans happy. To keep on living. To avoid the pain, and maybe to take a little pleasure when you could. It wouldn’t be your fault. No one could blame you. You were just doing what you had to to survive. What did you really have to lose? Sans had already done everything he wanted to do to you in the first few days, so it wasn’t like you were protecting your virtue or anything.

“It’s not really a choice, is it?” You’re not sure if you’ve ever had a real choice down here, and you were tired of Sans making it seem like you had any say in what was going to happen. Like you had any sort of power. Sure, you could choose to let him fuck you, but if he was going to do it anyway, then how was that a choice?

“Heh. Few choices are, pet.” He sounded so solemn saying that. Wasn't this what he wanted? Maybe some small part of him felt guilty for what he was doing. You’d seen glimpses of someone that wasn’t a complete asshole in him, or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

“Sweetheart, look. Any choice ya make is gonna hurt. Ya don’t know how to live down here, don’t know the rules. This place, it ain’t made for humans. It’s cruel, and hard, and tries to kill any sort of happiness. Ya won’t make it if ya keep fighting me. I can help.” Your skin prickles as Sans lets out a sigh, warmth billowing over your shoulder.

“Please. I can’t lose you too.” His voice is barely a whisper but for a moment it feels like your heart has stopped. So many conflicting emotions try to fight their way to the surface, you don’t know what to feel.

“I know this ain’t what ya want sweetheart, but I can give ya a good life. All ya have to do is trust me, listen to me, an’ I will try to make ya have a very good time.” The monster at your back practically purred those last words in your ear, you can’t help but feel your whole body shiver. His hips start to slowly rock against the back of yours. Just small movements. Enticing you to move with him. You hold yourself still, but it takes more effort than you would want to admit.

“Life can be so easy pet.” Your eyes close, but you’re not sure if it's to try and block him out, or to focus on his words and touch.
“I’ll take all the blame.” You could feel his hands gliding gently over the skin of your side, his touch barely there. Your mind is brought back to the first night you had spent with Sans in this bed. He had taken so much from you that night, but… he’d not left you wanting. More importantly, he had not hurt you, not physically anyway. He could have, but he didn’t. Of course that didn’t make it right… but maybe, less wrong?

You shift, rolling onto your other side, facing your tormentor. You had to look up slightly to meet his sockets. The lights of his eyes were intense. Blood red, coals smouldering in the dark. He made you feel so small. Curled around you like this. Swallowing your fear, and gathering as much courage as you could, you carefully reached out. Your hand coming to touch the side of his skull, your thumb sliding over the area that would be his cheek. Smooth, yet pitted. The texture was so unlike anything you knew. He was so unlike anything you knew. And he was warm. Alive. You could feel it. Whether he did, or didn’t, have a heartbeat, you could still feel some sort of pulse against your fingers. Was it magic?

When you see Sans’ own hand reach towards yours, you try to retreat. Maybe touching him like that haddn’t been the best idea, but you had needed something. Something solid, something tangible, to ground yourself with, not just a voice whispering at your back. This was all too surreal. You’d needed to prove that this wasn’t some sort of crazed dream.

He caught your hand, holding it in place against his skull, against where you had touched him. His sockets closing for a moment, as though savoring the feeling.
How could he… how could he do this to you? Make you feel like this after everything that had happened? Everything he had done to you. You hated him.

So why did you have to keep reminding yourself of that fact? Maybe he could change. Maybe you could help him change.

“Ya mine sweetheart. Mine ta hold. Mine ta protect. Mine ta care for.” He moved your hand against his face, the inside of your wrist coming to rest against those razor sharp teeth.
“I can give you everything ya need. I can give ya so much.” You could feel each word, each movement against your thin skin. Your pulse held so close to the daggers that every beat pushed it closer to those blades.

Using your other arm you sit up. Sans’ other hand falling from your hair to stroke along the shoulder and arm now exposed to him. He didn’t seem to mind the shift in position, but he also didn’t let go of your hand. He’d moved it back to rest against the side of his skull, as he sat up himself. So you kept facing him, the chill of the room hitting you without his warm protection.

“I really can’t go h-, back to the surface, can I?” You stop yourself from saying ‘home’, things were calm right now, civil, and Sans thought of this place as your home, no matter what you said. He sounded like he was offering you the world right now, but his wasn't the one you wanted. You knew it was a dangerous topic to bring up, but you had to ask just one more time.

“I said I’d take ya ta visit. If ya good.” Like that was any comfort, but it was something. He didn’t have to after all. He was… he was trying, you think, at least in his own way. He was ‘trying’ in other ways. His free arm hooking around your back as he drops your hand.

“Come ’ere pet.” You don’t fight as he coaxes you to sit between his legs, your back resting against his ribcage and his skull resting on top of your head. Boney hands decide to busy themselves by stroking along your arms, torso and breasts. It was relaxing more than sexual, but that didn’t mean it was any less intimate.
“See, ain’t this better then all that fighting?”

You don’t answer him. He was right, but to admit it? No chance. You couldn’t give him the satisfaction. You could hate him, and ignore him, all you wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that this was better. Less painful. Less stressful. It also didn’t change the fact that he was still a big bag of bones.
“You're not very comfortable you know.”

“Aww, would my pet like a better seat?” Sans’ hands slide down to your hips, his bones gripping around them and pulling up. You thought he was just trying to shift you into a different position until you feel his magic clutching at your soul again. Gravity seemed to flip, pulling you up, rather than down.

“What! Sans!” You suffer a moment of vertigo as what you saw told you one thing, but your sense of balance told you another. You quickly shut your eyes, your hands instinctively reaching around to try and clutch at Sans’ and stop yourself from falling up.

“Shh pet, see. All safe.” Gingerly you open one eye to reveal you hadn't floated away, but you were still far less grounded than you wanted to be. Sans held onto your hips, and your hands were gripped over his, though his touch was more to guide you then for any need to actually hold. You were, maybe, just a few inches suspended above his lap, but that was still far too high for you to be floating by nothing but a tingly, tugging, feeling in your chest.

Your legs stretched to reach the ground, touching the mattress either side of Sans’ chest in the hopes of taking control, but you couldn’t get any grip. You had no weight or pressure to hold your feet against the surface, thus could only try to hold them in place.
“Sans, please. I really don’t like this.”

“It hurt?” You couldn’t see his face from this angle, but he sounded concerned, and, maybe a little confused. At least he wasn't intentionally trying to hurt you then. All this soul stuff. You were still getting used to the idea that souls were an actual thing, let alone the fact that something could touch it, and that you could feel the touch, on your soul. The truth was, no matter what Sans did to your body, it would never feel as intimate as when he did stuff to your soul.

“No, it… it just feels weird. Can you, let me down now?” At least your soul was still inside. Everything sort of faded and got fuzzy when it was pulled out, like the world grew dark. Though having Sans be able to touch it with his weird magic stuff was frightening in its own rights. How high was he even able to lift you like this? What would happen if his let go of your hips? Your fingers tighten around his bones a little more. You really didn’t want to know what happened if he let you go.

“Aww, sweetheart, I thought ya wouldn’t want me ta be a let down in bed. Heh.” You could hear him shifting behind you, the springs creaking a little as he moved.

“Yes, ha ha. Very funny Sans.” Was this really the time to be making jokes? At least it meant he was in a good mood, though that was a given since you were currently floating bare assed above him.
“How are you even doing this?”

“Heh heh, let’s just call it magic.” You’re glad Sans can’t see you rolling your eyes. Of course it was ‘magic’, that was answer to everything down here. You’re not even sure why you ask anymore. The grip on your hips shifts a little, and for a moment you panic that Sans is about to let go of you. You fear proves to be unwarranted as he just moves his thumbs to rub circles against your flesh.

“Can all monsters use magic?” Your voice wavers. Honestly you were trying to distract yourself rather than Sans at this point as you were very aware that the sack of bones had a front row seat to your seat. You were embarrassed more than anything right now, but it made for a nice change from being scared.

“'corse, monsters are pretty much made of magic. Gravity’s my speciality.” He sounded really proud of that.
“Makes it real easy ta pick up the ladies. Heh heh.” Your throat goes dry. Just how many ‘ladies’ has he had in this bed? You feel a twinge of jealousy but it's quickly covered by worry. If there were others, then where were they now? Were they all like Sweetpea, or dead? With those choices, dead would be better, but what did that mean for you?

“Please Sans, it's really too early for this.” You couldn’t think about what might have happened, or could happen, you had enough to deal with the here and now. What surprised you was feeling the pressure around your soul start to ease off, your weight returning enough that you could hold your feet against the plush surface beneath.

“Mmm, I guess ya right. I know, how about breakfast in bed?” Your brain stutters a little as you realize Sans was listening to you, actually treating you like a person. Maybe today would be a good day after all. Was it possible Sans had been trying to make you lose your temper? Could this have all been some sort of test? It didn’t matter. There were always too many ‘ifs’ ‘buts’ and ‘maybes’. All you had to do was accept the good turn of events and be on your guard for when things went bad.

“Um, well, that would be nice.” You feel his bones give your hips a firm squeeze before gravity suddenly hits you with its full effect. Your hands reach out to stop yourself from falling face first into Sans’ pelvis only to find your own getting yanked backwards and colliding with something warm, wet and mobile crammed between your legs.

The dizzying touch leaves you empty for just a moment as Sans rocks underneath you laughing.
“Heh heh, maybe afta’ I’ve finished sweetheart.” He gives your rear end a playful smack before returning to eating you out like he was half starved. Sharp teeth should have been your biggest concern right now but instead you were trying to focus on not collapsing into Sans, or from poking your eye out on the glowing pole tenting the sheets.

Your hands grip at the bedding as every thought comes to a stop. All that teasing, all that touching, and it still hadn’t left you ready for him, ready for the onslaught as his tongue writhed between your folds and into you. There was no rhythm or pattern, no way to predict or get used to his movements. It was just hot, wet and hungry.

You collapse onto your elbows, shaking, when you feel the tip of Sans’ tongue prod at your clit. Panting and gasping, you sound like you had been running a marathon. Desperately you beg, hoping he will at least give you chance to catch your breath.
“Ple… please SsssSans, ssslow dow..HAAA FUCK!” The orgasm hits you hard, forcing your hips to buck into Sans’ skull, your legs squeezing together as your head gets pressed into the gap above the skeleton's pelvis. What didn’t really help was that Sans started laughing into your pulsing pussy, his movements and vibrating chuckles only prolonging the intense spasms.

“You… are a.... fucking... asshole.” You managed to pant out as you start to come down from your high. It had hit you so hard, and so fast, you were not even sure if you’d enjoyed it.

“No, I’m a fucked cunt.” Sans said while tracing his phalanges around the insides of your thighs. You could feel him smearing the mixed fluids around, causing you to shiver as they cooled on your skin.

“What?” It wasn’t that you didn’t agree with him, you would happily call him every name under the sun, it was just a strange choice of words for him.

“Heh heh. Well, it’s like they say. Ya are what ya eat sweetheart.” As if to prove his point he licked you from clit to slit in one long lap, his action choking out another moan from you.
“Mmm ya really are a peach, pet, and so fucking juicy. Ya think that counts as one of my five-a-day? Heh heh. Mmmm, your turn pet.”

You look down at the blankets, a red glow coming through the erect material.
“I don’t suppose it would help if I said I wasn’t hungry?” Sans gives a low growl behind you and pushes your ass forward, sending you stumbling into his crotch, your head bouncing off his… other head.
“Didn’t think so.” It was worth a shot at least.

Peeling back the blanket Sans shifts letting out a happy sigh. You had kind of left him waiting and, while you didn’t want to be in this situation, you could sympathise with the poor guy. He shifts again, lifting his hips and helping to pull down his shorts, which, by now, were really stained. You look away for a moment, as if hoping that by not seeing ‘it’ then ‘it’ wouldn't be there. Nope. Didn't work. He still looked like a novelty lightsaber. It was better to get this over and done with. You lift your leg to move so you were no longer ‘presenting’ right in Sans’ face, only to feel your leg pulled back into position.

“Where ya going pet?” You pull yourself up onto one hand to turn and look back at Sans. He held your one leg down while his other hand had your hip. You clearly weren't going to be moving any time soon.

“I thought I should… you know, get in a better position?” You move your index finger in a circular motion to try and show you just wanted to turn around, not to try and get away from him, like you could. Ugg, he still had your juices smeared over his jaw.

“Nope, ya gonna’ stay just like this for me. I’m enjoying the view here, sweetcheeks.” He gives your ass another slap, one hard enough to feel the sting even after his phalanges left the skin. Bones were way too hard for that.

So you were stuck, on all fours, with your ass in Sans’ face, and his dick in yours. It was already leaking precum over itself as it twitched and bobbed. Looking at it was hardly going to solve your problem. It was better to get to work. You feel, as well as hear, Sans when you take him in your mouth. His ‘bone purr’ rattling you as much as him.

He still didn’t have much of a taste. Maybe a little muskier than before, but that could have been from being cuddled up to you all night. Slowly you bob your head, taking more of him each time and trying to avoid gagging on him. At least like this you were somewhat in control. Sans couldn’t even grab your hair from this position. A swirl of your tongue around his tip when you pull back draws out a guttural growl from him. He gripped your legs harder as you push him back in. Looking at his pelvis you move your hands to trace along his hip joints. If you held him here it would be harder for him to thrust too; you wonder how much Sans would like being restrained for a change.

You bet he wouldn’t like being forced to orgasm as hard as you had either. A smile creeps across your face. Oh he really, wouldn’t like that. But it's not like you would have done anything wrong, you were just doing what he asked after all. With a new goal in mind you speed up your pace, bobbing faster and sucking harder every time you pulled back to the tip.

“Fuck sweetheart, ya… ha... really are hungry.” He’s panting hard now, though how and why when he had no lungs you would likely never know. Magic. Sure, that works. You wonder for a moment if you’re not just giving him what he wants. He certainly seems to be enjoying himself, judging from the noises he’s making, and the way his hips keep flexing under your grip. But it wasn’t as if you wanted this to last long, the faster he finished, the faster this was over.

You jerk away and moan onto his cock when you feel his touch against your clit, you were way too sensitive still and had no intentions to going for another round. You suck harder, your tongue dragging along his shaft as you move your head, drool pooling on his bones beneath.

“Hey… e.. ease up on… the pres… sure there… p... pet.” Oh so he didn’t like that? Well tough shit! It was your turn to have a little control for a change. With renewed vigor you ignore the ache in your jaw and continue. Sans’ hips change from thrusting to pulling away, you were surprised just how easy it was to hold him down from this angle.

Your hold, however, doesn't last, as Sans pushes you forward on an upward stroke, his dick popping out of your mouth and smearing down your chest as he pulls himself out from under you. A boney hand grips the back of your neck before you are even able to try and sit up.
“Fucking hell pet, ya tryin’ ta dust me?”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but you get a rough idea.
“Just returning the favor, Sans.” Your voice holds a little more venom than was really sensible right now, and you feel the pressure at the back of your neck increased a little. He growls, bones pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise. Was this it? Was this where he snaps your neck? You close your eyes, not wanting to see what was coming.

The world kept turning.

“Heh heh. Oh pet.” Sans sounded happy. You really didn’t like that Sans sounded happy. The fight drains out of you as you realize just what you’d done. Shit. Death might have been better. You should have just done what you were told. You felt him leaning over you, his bones pressing into your skin as he molds himself against your prone form. You can only just see his skull out of the corner of your eye. His breath at your ear.
“Strike one.”

Panic wells in your chest. You couldn’t move, he had you completely pinned to the mattress with his body, and his hand had not left the back of your neck. Stupid! Things had been going so well, sort of, and you had to try and pull something like this. What the hell had you expected to happen?
“Sans, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Shh pet. It’s only one strike. Just a little warning.” He nuzzled his skull into your hair, his voice calm and soothing, but Sans could go from pleased to pissed in the blink of an eye, so it’s no wonder that you were finding it hard to let go of the knot in your chest.
“And I’m not going to need to give ya another one, am I?” You try to shake your head.
“Use ya words pet.”

“No Sans.” One strike was more than enough. At least he made it very clear when you stepped out of line. Most in his position wouldn’t be so lenient.

“‘No Sans’ what?” The hand on your neck loosens, moving round to rub against your throat and under your jaw.

“No Sans. I’ll be good.” You force yourself to relax, to show him you didn’t want to fight. This wasn’t something you could win and you really didn’t want to chance another strike.

“Mmm, that’s my girl. Wouldn’t want ya to make a rod for ya own back. Oh wait.” Sans brings his other hand to your stomach, lifting your hips as his legs fit themselves between your own.
“That's exactly what you did.” You could feel him against your crux, hot and wet. He gives you just a moment to realize what's about to happen, maybe a chance to fight back, before pushing his hips forward. His cock is more than lubricated enough to slip inside you easily. As he starts with short, slow, rocking thrusts.

His hand had left your belly to support his weight over you, but the other remained at your throat. Your head held high, your neck open and exposed. He moved you with him, your whole body rocking back and forth, slow and steady. His cock set deep inside you, only pulling out slightly with each ebb of your joined movements, before returning. It was too slow, too soft. You would never get anywhere with these gentle motions, but it felt fantastic after the forced orgasm from before.

“See, when we have choices, it's easy to make the wrong one, pet.” His voice was barely a whisper from where his skull rested on your shoulder.
“Without the choice, you can’t pick wrong. Ain't that right pet?”

“Yes Sans.” You were barely listening to him at this point. You’d heard it all before. The same song you were expected to dance to. His pace increased a little, the wet sounds of the joined bodies adding to the creaking springs beneath you.

“So how about we try things my way for a change?” You frown. Sans ALWAYS had it his way. How would this be any different?
“No more fighting, no more questioning.” You try to say something but the hand on your throat tightens.
“Not a word pet. Only thing I want coming out of that pretty little mouth-” Sans thrusts into you hard causing you to gasp past his hold.
“- are sounds like that.”

He relaxes his grip on your throat but doesn't remove his hand. It scrapes along your skin with every movement as he starts picking up the pace, as well as getting harder. His bones hit your ass in the same spot every time, making each thrust painful. You whimper with every strike, knowing that you were not going to enjoy sitting down for a while.

“Good… girl. Just like… that! Mmmmah.” You can feel Sans drooling on your shoulder, though you can’t see him due to your head being held in place. It felt like he was getting close from the way his thrusts were coming. The bed was creaking so much now you think it might pop a spring.

“Sans.” You gasp out, hoping to spur him on, and to just get him to finish. It seems to help as he bucks into you hard.

“Mine. All mine. Fuck! I’m… I’m never lettin’... ya go… Ya gonna ha ha… stay here… with me forever Ahh.” Sans’ words should have made your blood run cold, it should have made you run for the hills, but fuck was it making you ache. The pain from his bones was still there but your own hunger was growing enough to drown it out slightly, your gasps of pain slowly changing to those of need.

“That’s… that’s it… birdy. Fuck. Sing… sing for me. Just… Ahh, just for me.” His tongue falls to your shoulder, lapping and drooling at your skin as the hand around your throat tightens slightly.

“Sans, I’m… AHHHhh” Teeth sink into the soft flesh above your clavicle just as Sans thrusts hard, his back arching with yours as you both cum in unison. It feels like every muscle in your body clenches hard, your mind going blank as your vision starts to tunnel. It’s only when Sans lets go of your throat that you remember you needed to breathe.

He lets go of your shoulder carefully, his teeth having just pierced the skin. You're bleeding. Not a lot, but enough to well and run down your shoulder and back. It feels like the bones have been stolen from your body as you are allowed to collapse onto the mattress. He licks at the bloody tracks, marring you before wiping at the shallow cuts with a tissue you hoped was clean.

“Ya all mine little lovebird. Mind, body and soul.”

Chapter Text

Your shoulder stings. Your back aches and your ass feels like it has been beaten with a baseball bat. Yet you lay, without complaint, on his bed. Your chest and face are pressed tightly to those stained, stinking sheets while Sans tends to you. The whole world feels like it's stopped. Every breath, a moment in and of itself. There was nothing else. Just you, this room, and Sans.

“How ‘bout we just stay in bed today, sweetheart.” He sweeps away the hair from your face, letting it fall gently against your back.
“We can just relax, an’ take it easy.” You feel him briefly press his face, his teeth, against the skin between your shoulder blades. The edge of his nose ridge slowly slides up your spine while the curve of his jaw, too smooth and hard to be anything but bone, eventually comes to rest on your undamaged shoulder. It would be so easy for him to end your life right here, with those teeth so close to your neck. You had felt how sharp they were. One clean bite and it would be all over.
“Would you like that?”

You try to shut Sans out, unsure you could speak even if you wanted to. Your throat is bruised on the outside, and painfully dry within. Thankfully he didn’t seem to mind the silence, and wasn’t demanding an answer. A small reprieve, but you would take any you were given. Your eyes prickle as time slips ahead. The beating of your heart and the intake, and exhale, of breath the only way to be sure it’s moving forward at all.

You hurt. You hurt all over. The worst of it is you know you will continue to hurt, and there is nothing you can do about it. You don’t stop the tears that eventually force their way to the surface. You don’t even try to stop the sounds you're now making. You weren't strong and you were tired of trying to pretend that you were. You were broken, beaten and alone in a world you didn’t understand. There was no escape.

The bed shifts and Sans leans over to stroke your head, his bones gently raking through your hair as he pulls you closer to cradle against him, ribs poking at your side.
“Shhh. Oh sweetheart, ya okay. Shhh shhh, it’s just a little nip, nothin’ to worry about. It’ll heal up in no time.” He thought you were crying about your shoulder? It did hurt. But it was more than just the physical pain. You were lost. You were like a child suffering that had no idea how to stop the pain, or how long it would last.
“You were fantastic pet. Perfect. No need to cry now.” You still as the tears eventually dwindle, your breath shaky, yet free from sobs. ‘No need to cry.’ You sigh as you rub away the dampness. He was right. What good did crying ever do?

“That’s it. Shhh, I got ya. I’ll make it all better.” Was that meant to be comfort? Was that meant to help? You would have thought he was making fun of you if you weren't able to hear how sincere he sounded. He honestly believed that he could comfort you after everything he had done? Truthfully, more than anything, you hated that it worked. That just having him hold you, care for you, in such a gentle manner, helped soothe the painful knot in your chest threatening to crush your heart. There had to be something wrong with you, something twisted to make you give in like this. Maybe Sans saw it, maybe that’s why he picked you, why he wouldn’t let you go.

“Why, Sans?” Your question hangs in the air. You didn’t need any more words than those two. It was the same question you has asked both him, and yourself, again and again.

“Because ya needed me.” He said those words as if they were obvious.


“Shh pet, shhh. Ya would have died, like all the rest. Didn't matter if it was off the cliff, by the dogs, or on Alphys’ operating table. It would have all ended the same. Ya would have died and been forgotten. Maybe I wanted to see if I could save something. Ya such a sweet, fragile little thing. A tiny little light in this dark world. I want to take care of ya sweetheart, keep ya safe. Keep ya happy. I can’t do much, I know I’m a mess, an’ I don’t expect ya to love me, but I can make ya happy, if ya let me.” You can’t find the words. From what you had seen of his world, what you had learnt, it all, in a way, made sense. You didn’t want it to make sense.

The monsters were trapped down here just as much as you were. The door wide open, but with only death waiting on the other side. It was a maddening situation for you after only a week, but to live like that for your whole life? It must be torture. No wonder they were desperate. So, could you really blame Sans for wanting to capture a piece of the surface for himself? What he had done to you, what he made you do, those things were unforgivable. But, you really couldn’t find it in yourself to blame him. You were alive because of him. Used, bleeding and bruised; but alive, cared for and , maybe even, L… treasured.

You couldn’t deal with this.

“Water? Please Sans?” You managed to choke out. You really were thirsty, but maybe this would have the added benefit of getting your keeper off you. You couldn’t think straight with him curled around you like this. He’d never denied you water before, and unless Sans had some bottles stashed amongst his junk, that would mean he’d have to go to the kitchen. He shifted.

“Of course sweetheart, ya only have ta ask. I’m here for ya.” He presses the brow of his skull to your crown before moving to snag a t-shirt and shorts. Once dressed he looks back at you with a smile that makes your guts twist and your throat even drier. How could he look at you like that? With that much want, like you were special, and yet treat you like a thing he owned.

When the door closes, with him on the other side, you still can’t will yourself to move. Part of you wants to scream. Wants to pound on the walls and destroy anything you can get your hands on at the unfairness of this all… but that would just lead to anger and pain. You pushed those thoughts away. They're useless, childish even. Life was unfair, you knew that, and accepting that fact meant you could focus on coping with everything. This was happening. So you would deal with it. Gradually you felt calmer. Almost like you were watching yourself from a distance. If you couldn’t fight, if you couldn’t run, maybe you could adapt. Learn to work with what you had. You take in a deep breath. Close your eyes. And then let it out steadily. You could do this.

You could… you could show Sans where he was going wrong. He might not listen to you. Okay, he probably wouldn’t listen to you, but didn’t the fact that he was getting you a drink show he would listen to some things? It would take time to build up any understanding or trust between the two of you but, maybe, things could get better? Maybe you could help him, help you survive down here. You shift and feel the skin on your shoulder pull, the pain like tiny fireworks going off. First order of business would be to make sure Sans knew that biting was completely out. You prop yourself up and poke carefully at the small cuts. They might not be deep or bleeding anymore, but that didn’t stop them from hurting.

The room door opens slowly, Sans clearly prepared for you to bolt as he keeps a tight hold on it. Honestly, the thought had never occurred to you. Even if you could get past him, where would you go? You watch Sans’ expression relax when he sees you still on the bed. That was good. You had been right to stay where you were.

He enters more confidently now, not worried when the door swings a little wide, before kicking it shut with a foot. Your cup sloshed in his left hand, the sight of it making you smile and reach forward to receive. You ask, he delivers.

“Thank you Sans.” That did the trick. Saying his name always seemed to help just that extra bit. You would have said the skeleton was grinning from ear to ear right now, if he had any ears. He gave off that bone purr of his while giving you the cup with one hand, and stroking your head with the other. You ignore him, for the most part, but end up spilling a little of the water when he drops onto the mattress next to you. You quickly drink down the rest, before his antics make you lose any more.

He is quiet as you drink, content to watch you and stroke your back, tracing the bones beneath the surface as he had done so often before. You shift away when the light touch traces your ribs. He grumbles. You apologize.
“Sorry. It's just, that tickles.” Oh, you did not like the look Sans was suddenly sporting on his skull.

“Hmm, looks like I’ve found a funny bone or two.” He wiggles his fingers at you. Great, playful Sans. How the hell were you meant to deal with a playful Sans? It was way too early in the morning for this.

“Please Sans, I can’t be held responsible for my actions if you start tickling me.” You try to sound confident, to take charge of the situation a little. If Sans was feeling playful then maybe you had more leeway right now. You remember that you could get away with more if something was funny, and from the look on Sans’ face, he was enjoying this.

“Heh heh. Is that a promise?” Perfect, now he thought you were trying to play ‘hard to get’. For fucks sake, it was like trying to talk to a horny teenage boy… except this one could kill you. Which meant slapping him, or telling his to grow up, were completely off the table.

“I mean it Sans.” Your confidence wavers as he starts to advance on you, his phalanges poised like spiders to reach your sides. Can’t fight. Can’t run. Adapt. Think, think, think… Oh! Your face twists as you flash Sans a smile dark enough to make even him pause.
“Unless you want me to piss in your bed.” That made him stop.

“Eh, really rather ya didn’t pet.” Good, he sat back down and looked as disgusted by the prospect as you felt. Hell, if things got really bad maybe you could start acting like a real ‘pet’. Would he believe you if you told him you were just ‘marking your territory’? Probably not. Either way, right now, you had gained some ground.

“Then no tickling.” Sans starts to lose his merriment as you realize you had a finger pointed at him, scolding him like a child. Your hand drops quickly, hiding behind your back as though you could take away the action.
“At least… not right now. Okay?” Shit, you hadn't meant to push so hard, so quickly. Sans, at least, didn’t look angry. He wasn’t happy, but a happy Sans rarely meant something good for you anyway.

“Sure pet. Sure. Ya finished with that?” He gestures to the cup you’re still clutching. It’s empty but...

“Um… can I get some more?” With all the crying and stress, you probably needed about five cups of water right now. That might be pushing it a bit, but trying for a second one would be a good start.

“Someone’s thirsty.” He says with a grin while taking the cup from your hands, and placing it on the floor next to him. Oh sure ‘taking care of you’ clearly only means when he doesn't have to get off his lazy ass. If he had an ass, that is.

“I don’t know about monsters, but humans need to drink water to stay alive.” So he wanted to prove he could look after you? Fine! Then he was going to have to buckle down and learn just what that really meant. Food, water. Clean sheets wouldn’t go amiss either.

“Hmph, well I ain't coming back up those stairs again.” He gets up from his bed and offers you his right hand.
“Come on, the sofa’s as good a place as any to spend the day.” You spend just a second looking at those bony digits before taking hold and being lifted to your feet. It takes you longer to find your feet though, and the way your hips felt meant walking was not going to be fun. Sans doesn't let go as he leads you through the door. You trail behind him at his sedate pace trying not to trip over yourself. You’re naked, again, but that at least gave you some hope that you really were going to stay inside today. You don’t think you could take any more of the world outside.

There is a brief thought of pushing Sans down the stairs when you reach them, but the fall wouldn’t be nearly far enough to do much damage, and broken bones only seem to slow him down for a day or two. The red jell, magic, stuff, on his upper arm and phalanges was barely a smear now, and if his arm still hurt him it was clearly not enough to keep him from manhandling you judging from his performance this morning.

“Sit.” Sans lets you go when he reaches the sofa before he moves off to the kitchen. You do as you’re told, though mostly because what else were you meant to do? Stand in the corner or lie on the floor just to spite him? Sans knew this of course, bastard likely only told you to ‘sit’ so he could feel like he had complete control over what you did. Your eyes stray over to the bucket in the corner, you should probably… you stop and frown.

“Pet, you okay there?” You look up to see Sans walking towards you from the kitchen, cup in hand. Maybe you just needed more water. That had to be it.

“Yes Sans. Just thirsty.” Trying to smile to reassure him didn't seem to help as he just narrows his sockets at you. It wasn't, technically, a lie. You were probably just worrying about nothing. Maybe stress was a factor? That could be it. You had certainly been under enough.

“Hmm. Welp, here ya go.” He still didn't look convinced, even less so when you try to drain the cup in one go. 'Try' being the optimal word as you end up sputtering after some of the water falls the wrong way down your throat. Sans, to his credit, is quick to pat and rub your back until the coughing fit subsides, but even when he sits next down, you barely pay him any attention.

This was wrong, you should be bursting to go to the toilet right now. When had you last... Grillby's? No, no it couldn't have been that long ago. Last night then. You must have gone last night. It was hard to remember what had happened when you had gotten back from Gerson's, just a lot of tears. You had been emotional. Of course you wouldn't remember everything. Maybe you hadn't slept that long. Could that be it? You couldn't even keep track of time when you were awake in that place, let alone when you were sleeping. That must be it. You just haddn't had enough time to 'fill up the tank'.

You sit and fidget. Something that clearly put Sans on edge, and that in turn was making you more nervous. Maybe you just had to try. Put your mind at ease that you were still working down there.

“Where ya going pet?” Sans doesn't physically stop you when you get up, but his voice did. You point over to the metal bucket still sitting the the corner.

“The bucket, I just need to, um, yeah.” He groans at your explanation before sitting back down on the sofa and turning on the TV. At least he seemed content to give you your privacy.

You sit facing the wall, trying to imagine you are in a bathroom stall and not in an occupied living room. Running water. Waterfalls. For fucks sake just pee already! You press your fingers into your lower abdomen to try and poke at your bladder… but there was nothing. No pressure, no fullness. Not even a little bit. Okay… it was okay. You had only had two drinks this morning, they just didn’t have time to go through. That was it. You shift and try to empty yourself elsewhere, after all you knew you hadn't taking a dump since coming down here but, well, was it really a surprise to be constipated with everything going on? No… but you should be feeling uncomfortable right now. Four, five… maybe six days you had been trapped, so you should need to...

“Pet, what ya fussing about?” You turn your head to see Sans leaning over the sofa looking at you. If anything, at least Sans might be able to scare the crap out of you.

“Something’s wrong. I don’t, I mean I can’t.” How the hell were you meant to explain all this? To a skeleton of all things.
“Okay, look Sans, when humans drink and eat they eventually need to get rid of the waste. That’s what the bucket’s for right?” He had to understand that much or he never would have provided the bucket in the first place.

“Oh is that what this is all about. Don’t worry pet, I fixed that.” Your brain stalls at Sans’ cheerful statement. You honestly can’t process what he was saying and just end up sitting looking at him, your mouth trying to form words.

“What?” You finally managed to say. You had to have heard him wrong.
“What do you mean ‘fixed’?” Panic starts to build. What had he done to you? Had he drugged you and decided to cut away anything he felt you didn’t need? You didn’t look any different on the outside. No cuts or scars that shouldn’t be there. But in a place where monsters can take out your soul and touch it, anything was possible, right? Just what the hell was he doing to you?!

“Relax. Monsters figured out ages ago how to get rid of toilet breaks. Have to make use of everything down here. Can’t go throwing stuff down the drain when ya don’t have much to begin with.” So it wasn’t just because Sans was a skeleton that he didn’t need a toilet, it was a monster thing, but, you were human.

“What have you done to me?” You really hadn’t heard him wrong… he really had done something to you. Something to make you more like the monsters. Something to make you more like him.

“You did that yourself. Most monster food, that stuff ya been eating, has a lot of magic in it. The stuff coats ya digestive tract. What food isn't absorbed right away is broken down and reshaped until it can be. Ergo, no waste. Same with the water. No more mess, no more fuss. You’re welcome by the way.” He sounded so… smug, so proud. He had done this to you, without even telling you, and he expected you to thank him for it?!

“What else have you done to me? Am I even human anymore?” Was he slowly going to turn you into a monster? Perhaps a skeleton like him, ripping apart your humanity until you were nothing but bones.

“‘Course ya human. What sort of question is that?” He genuinely looked surprised at your question. That at least was a relief.
“Look, it’s just the way things are down here. Happens to everyone. I did say ya have to change to survive in the Underground.” You’d thought he’d just meant your behaviour… not your bodily functions. All you can do is look at the floor as your hands clutch at the hair on either side of your head. The pain helped keep you grounded. The pain was human.

“Look, I didn’t tell ya about this before because ya had enough to deal with. Give it time. Ya get used to it.” Used to it? How the hell were you meant to get used to this? It wasn’t like getting a new haircut or new shoes. There was something inside you, changing you! There was no getting used to it. Was it reversible? You couldn’t ask Sans that, he would get angry, he wanted this.

“Sweetheart, come’er.” He stands up and calls you over but you’re not listening. You can’t hear him above your own panicked thoughts. Sans had taken away your freedom and your dignity. He couldn’t take away your humanity as well. He couldn’t. Could he? The pain from your hair increased, you don’t even realize you’re pulling harder.

“I think, I’m going to be sick…” You paled as sweat pricks at your skin.

“Pet I said come here.” Sans’ tone is firm but not angry. You finally look up to find him a few steps in front of you, his arms open. You move before you even know you’re doing it. What choice did you have really? Sans would stop the pain. Stop the screaming in your head. You needed someone to tell you everything was going to be okay. He made everything so much simpler.
“That's it. See, everything is fine. I can help ya get through this. Look at me, just breathe pet. That’s it. Good girl, Everything is fine. Ya don’t want to be doing all that disgusting stuff right?”

“No, but…”

“Then there’s no problem. Right pet?” You try to collect your thoughts. Using the toilet was hardly the highlight of the day, and it had only gotten worse after ending up down here. So was it really such a bad thing to lose? No more embarrassing squats, no more rush to get out of bed first thing in the morning. You took a deep breath in, slowly letting it out. You felt calmer. More steady as Sans held on to you and kept you from panicking. This was happening. It wasn’t hurting you. You just had to accept it. Another breath. Accept, adapt, survive.

“Right Sans. No problem.” You are able to give him a small genuine smile that earns you a slight purr. You could do this. You could work with what you had been given. You could adapt. This was just one more step down that path.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now let's see if this hunk of junk has anything decent to watch.” he keeps you close as you both fall into the sofa, Sans dragging you to lean against his right side. It took a bit of shifting but eventually you are able to sit on the lumpy sofa with only a dull ache. Your bony babysitter was even being careful not to knock your bitten shoulder. This wasn’t so bad. You could manage this.

You were a bit hungry, but not uncomfortably so. Sans’ talk about having to make use of all the food down here made you unsure of just how much of a drain you might be on his own food bills. The fact that the stuff was also filled with magic that was slowly changing you didn’t really help your appetite either. You could accept the fact that these… changes, were happening, but that didn’t mean to had to like them.

“Oh for fucks sake!” You jump a little when Sans’ phone starts ringing, pulling away to give him a bit of privacy. That still didn’t stop you from trying to listen in. You think you hear a woman's voice, but the line must be pretty bad with the way the sound stuttered.
“What!? Yeah I’m up... don’t sound so surprised.” The person on the other end was clearly not someone Sans wanted to talk to, but you had a feeling that if he didn’t have to then he would have hung up by now.
“What the fuck’s that got to do with me?... Still not my problem.”

You watch as Sans pinches and rubs at his nose ridge, his sockets closing in frustration.
“An hour, that’s all ya getting… I’m not doing it for you.” He hangs up before sighing.

“You have to leave?” Last time this happened you were stuck with Grillby, you did NOT want to go through that again.

“I ain't going to be long sweetheart, so ya can just relax here okay?” You nod and smile with a ‘Yes Sans.’ Honestly, having an hour or so to yourself sounded wonderful right about now.

“Stay in this room, okay? I don’t want ya going anywhere near that kitchen, it ain't safe.” Again you nod with a ‘Yes Sans.’
“An’ if ya good, I’ll bring ya back something special to eat.” That sounded promising. As much as you wanted to try and work out what secrets the kitchen might hold, you were finally starting to make some progress in this twisted partnership. After all, instead of threatening you, Sans was offering you a reward! You would take the carrot over the stick any day.

You move your feet to bring them up onto the sofa. A visual cue for Sans to see you intended to stay where you were. He smiled. The sooner he started trusting you, the faster you could gain more freedoms. Already things were starting to look up. You were handling the most recent ‘change’ pretty well. Though it was easier to try to forget what was happening, sort of lock it away. If you did think about it then it was easier to manage.

Sans looks around the room for a moment, clearly checking if he had forgotten anything, before moving over to the front door. Honestly, he reminds you of a parent about to leave their kid while they nip out.
“I’m going to lock this, don’t need anyone visiting now, do we pet?”

“No Sans.” You were trapped either way, but it was reassuring that you only had to worry about him coming through those doors. Gerson was nice enough, but your other experiences with monsters had hardly given you a good impression.

“I won’t be long pet.” With one final look around, he sighed, and left. Even for Sans, he was acting really weird. You hd been left here a few times with just a warning or two, but now? He was probably just worried you were going have another breakdown. Bastard didn’t seem to realize that he was the cause of most of them. Well, he wasn’t here now so you didn’t have to think about him. Another thing to add to your mental ignore pile

The T.V. wasn’t much of a distraction. Sans had been flicking through the channels when his phone had rung, and had stopped on a shopping channel. You could try and change it... but the remot didn't seem to like you much and it would require you to get off the sofa to reach it on the table. This was fine. Right now two ladies were trying to sell off some earrings. Explaining how they looked like real diamonds but were only half the cost, bla bla bla. If something looked good, who cared what it was made of? You notice the number on screen. This was clearly a show from the surface and... if you could get TV signals then phones should work, right?

Hope didn't even have time to give you a warm rush.

Who would you even call? The police? The army? No one would believe you. Maybe you could tell them about the mountain, come up with a story about how you had gotten lost in the cave system… how lots of people had gotten lost. Would they send a rescue team? Would that work? Maybe. But, if they did, they wouldn’t be ready for what they would find down here. No one would. It was a little heartless, but maybe if the rescue team went missing, they would send a larger force, a more prepared force. That might work.

Of course, you needed a phone to do any of that, and the only one you knew about was Sans’. That really didn’t help. Maybe… maybe he would let you call your family. Just once. Just to let them know you were alive. They were probably searching for you right now. Thinking the worst. You laugh at that. The worst they could come up with wouldn’t even come close to what had really happened. Sans… he might let you. If you explained you just wanted to say goodbye. He would feel like he had won another battle, and you would get to hear your family one last time. You’re crying again. It felt good.

Lying down on the sofa, your left shoulder up to the air, you watch the items coming up, thinking who you would buy them for. You only lift your head when you hear the door unlock and open. That was quick. This channel had a clock on it, so you could see Sans had only not even been twenty minutes. It felt so nice being able to keep track of time again.

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle as heavy feet move closer. That didn’t sound right. You turn your head before finding you have to crank it up a few notches to finally look at the face of a very different looking skeleton, in armor. He didn’t look happy. He didn’t look safe.

Can’t run. Can’t hide. Can’t fight. Stay calm. Sans will keep you safe… Sans wasn’t here.

“Hello.” You manage to squeak out. He wasn’t attacking you… yet. All in all, it was probably better to judge monsters on what they do rather than what they looked like anyway. He sort of looked like a very stretched Sans. Everything about him long and sharp.

“Papyrus?” That was Sans’s brother’s name right? The way Gerson had spoken lead you to believe there were not many skeleton monsters around, so it would make sense that this was him. Wait… wasn’t he also the one whose job it was to catch humans? Shit!

“I see my brother has at least graced you with the knowledge of me.” His voice was loud and nasally, very different from the gruff voice Sans had. At least you now knew who you were dealing with, but you still didn’t know if you were safe or not.

“Um… Sans went out, I’m not sure-”

“I didn’t ask you to speak human!” Not safe. Definitely not safe. You close your mouth with a click of your teeth.
“I wasn’t looking for my lazy brother.” He takes a step closer.
“I came here for you.” Like one skeleton wasn’t enough to deal with, now you had his human hunting brother. What the fuck had you done in a past life?

“Stand up. I will not have my opponent cowering at my feet before the fight has even begun.” He wanted to fight you? To hell with that. This guy was huge, not to mention decked out in armor. He stood ready to face you, a strange blood orange glow coming from his gloved hands. Magic more than likely. To his credit, at least he hadn’t just come in here and killed you the moment he saw you. A strange sort of honor code then? More then likely he just needed you alive.

“Fight!? No, nonono. I give up, you win.” You try to raise both hands up in surrender, though it looks odd with you stretched out on the sofa. Like a dog. You were unarmed, naked, and surrendering to him. He would have to be a real… um, asshole, to attack you like this.

“Nyeh heh hu?” That seemed to have caught him off guard, stopping him in mid… pose?
“Wait. No. You can’t do that.” He looked, confused? Honestly it was even harder to read him than Sans, but at least you seemed to have derailed him from his course to fight you. Now you just had to work out how to get out of this. Or maybe you just had to delay him until Sans got back.

“Fine! Then you are my prisoner.” He makes a motion with his hand and summons a bone that had to be as thick as your arm and as long as your entire leg. The simple fact that he had made it appear out of thin air was enough to make you pull back till you were sitting on the far end of the couch. That it was now pointed at you was really pushing your panic buttons.
“So tell me human, why has my brother suddenly lost two levels of violence?”