Chapter Text
“No. Absolutely not.”
They’re all gathered in Papyrus’ home, standing amidst a crowd of curious onlookers. Papyrus towers over them with his mouth pulled into a tight frown, gritting his teeth and arms crossed, the skeleton fuming at their words. Gaster stares at them from Papyrus’ side, shooting Fran an “I-told-you-so” as the other skeleton tears into them.
“Have you lost your mind?” Papyrus goes on, narrowing his eyes. “You know we’re at war. You’re just a child, Fran; I may house kids here, but they don’t go into the city. Doing so would be suicide.”
“We aren’t helpless,” Fran points out, mimicking him and crossing their arms while fixing him with a stern look. They fight back a smile when they see him wince but don’t comment on it. “You’ve trained us to fight. We won’t be going alone; it’ll be like a scouting mission, just further into the city.”
“That’s the problem! The city is where people like us are murdered!” Papyrus makes a wild gesture with his hand in the air, beginning to pace. He glares at them, shaking a finger at them and yelling, “I don’t know what gave you the impression that this is all fun and games, but let me tell you, I’ve seen way too many people die to just blindly follow your idea of damned mercy. I’ve killed too many people for that!” His voice cracks, but he continues, Fran shrinking at his every word. “I didn’t save you and protect you all this time for you to pull this! You’re too important for that! You mean more to me than that! Why would you try and throw all of that away for one of your childish schemes?”
An agonizing pain settles deep within their chest. “We just want to reason with them,” Fran murmurs, voice quiet, almost at a whisper.
“You can’t reason with a tyrant, Fran!”
“Not if we don’t try! We don’t know if it’ll work if we never try!”
“Fran, I said no—”
“Are you sure you would rather kill needlessly than try to end all of this?” Fran snaps. They gesture to the rest of the room, everyone avoiding their gaze. “If you really detest killing, then don’t you think you should try every option of mercy that you can to avoid doing it?”
Papyrus doesn’t answer them.
“It’s dangerous, Fran,” Gaster speaks up, straining to lean on his good leg to avoid hurting the other. It’s been bothering him more lately, they note. Wonder if it’s the cold…
“We know it’s dangerous!” Fran shouts, stomping their foot. They all but snarl at him, teeth bared as they step forward, their eyes glowing brighter and brighter with each passing second, the skeletons backing away with weary gazes and hands raised in surrender. “We’re not stupid! We know we could die! But it’s worth the risk if it means that everyone can find peace!” They turn to the rest of the room, raising their arms. “Don’t all of you want to be free?”
Murmurs of agreement. The crowd still avoids looking at their leader, shuffling their feet and lowering their heads.
“Good. Glad we’re in agreement, because so far, violence hasn’t worked. If anything, it’s only made it worse.”
“Fran, you’re still not—”
“Yes, we are!” Fran glares, face turning red. “We are, because you know what we’re saying is true, and you know that you’ll need me for this! We are because human souls are stronger than monsters, which means you need us there to keep you safe!”
Papyrus’ bones pale in the dim lighting, “How do you know about that?”
“We just do! We can feel it; deep within us. It’s something we’ve known for a long time.” Fran pauses, hand absently pressed against their chest, their soul thrumming against their fingers. They look back up at him, pure determination on their face. “Just like how we know this will work. So we have to go. Please.”
“Fran, I can’t let y—”
“You can’t keep us shut up here forever.” Fran’s eyes glow purple, expression shifting into a fixed, pissed smile. “You might be able to keep the kid here, but I’m not as easy to trap.”
What are you doing?
Trust me. I know what I’m doing.
Papyrus’ eye-sockets widen. His hands balling up into fists at his side, looking every which way that they aren’t, he sputters, unable to get his thoughts straight. “Y…you aren’t allowed to just do that,” he tells them finally.
Fran’s smile widens, “Do what?”
“To do that! That—that switch, whatever that was!” Papyrus frowns, this time being the one to stomp his foot. “Trying to scare me into giving in isn’t going to work! I’ve dealt with scarier than you.”
“No, you haven’t. You don’t even know who I am. And besides, you can’t control what I do. It’s my body, too; I can do whatever I damn well please.”
Papyrus hesitates. “…You’re speaking in the first person.”
Fran shrugs. “Does it really matter how we speak? I don’t think so. Though I think it does matter how this war of yours ends, considering mine didn’t end too well.”
“…What are you talking about?” Papyrus lowers his arms slowly, stepping forward with his eye-sockets furrowed.
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know, general.” Fran paces, and Papyrus notices how their walking changes; lacking any usual bounce and the slightest hint of uncertainty, their steps are more carefree, confident, calculated. Fran notices him staring and grins, shoving their hands in their pockets. “It’d be hard to explain, with you not knowing me, but let’s just say that the war my people went through started with violence and ended in genocide and imprisonment under a mountain. And uh, considering the people here are people I give a shit about, I’d prefer that didn’t happen to you lot.”
Fran can hear his bones rattling. “We don’t know that that’s what’s going to happen,” he says, voice quivering and meek, his trembling hands giving way to his fear.
“Your ruler has already committed themselves to killing and imprisoning all of you. That letter made it pretty clear what their intentions are; my question is whether or not you’re going to do something about it.” Fran tilts their head, bone visible underneath their skin. “Or are you going to be a coward and hand us all over on a silver platter?”
“I don’t—”
“That’s enough,” Gaster spats. He pushes passed Papyrus, grabbing Fran by the wrist, their confidence immediately melting away. “We’ve heard enough. You got your answer—let it go.”
“We can’t let it go,” Fran huffs, trying their best not to panic.
Papyrus frowns, “Why not?”
Fran falls quiet.
“Why not, Fran?”
“…because we’re the anomaly they want to kill.”
*
It takes the rest of the day for them to prepare.
Fran grunts as they push the bag of food into the back of Gerson’s carriage, shivering from the nighttime chill already taking hold of the wind. Winter’s going to be here soon, they think, grimacing. Hopefully we don’t get caught in the snow…
“That the last one, lad?” Gerson shouts from up front, Fran flinching at his loud and booming voice.
“Not a boy!” They huff, shooting him a playful glare.
“Right, right, my apologies. But is that the last one? We have to head out here in a few minutes before sun rises.”
“Yessir, that’s the last one.” Fran brushes dirt from their clothes, rubbing at their arms. “Is it going to be this cold all the way there?”
“If it bothers you so much, you can stay here,” a voice speaks behind them, and they jump, whipping around to find Papyrus walking up behind them, smiling softly when they see him. “You don’t have to go. We can handle it on our own.”
Fran pauses, looking off to the side. They sigh. “…We do have to go,” they tell him, raising their head to meet his gaze.
“It’d be safer for you here. They wouldn’t be able to get to you here.”
“I know.”
“Toriel and I have gotten close to the city before. We’ve been there before; we’d know our way around better than you would.”
“I know.”
“We’ll come back,” Papyrus’ voice cracks as he says it, Fran noticing tears in his eyes. An insidious, twisting feeling wrenches through their gut, making them nauseous. “You don’t have to come if you’re worried about that because we will come back. We always do.”
“Our mind is made up, Papyrus,” they tell him simply, giving him their best attempt at a smile. It doesn’t quite reach their eyes. “You don’t have to worry about us. You’ve trained us well, and what you haven’t taught us, we can manage on our own. There’s two of us in here, remember? We’re never alone.”
Papyrus sighs. His shoulders relax, the skeleton rubbing at his eye-sockets with a pained chuckle. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “Yeah, I guess not.”
A pause. Fran rubs at their arm again, though not because of the cold. “Sorry about earlier,” they say, rocking back on their heels. They spot Toriel walking out of the main building, robe flapping with the wind, the old woman watching the two of them with raised eyebrows. “We shouldn’t have acted that way. It was unfair.”
“It was. Though I get where you’re coming from.”
Fran looks up, “You do?”
Papyrus nods. He smiles, a knowing yet defeated look in his eye-sockets. “You’re not human or a monster. You’re not a child, either; you look like one, but given what one of you said earlier, you’re a lot older than you seem to be. And you were right; you’re not helpless. You’re pretty strong, actually, though I still worry on what would happen if you fought a real enemy.”
“Where are you going with this?”
Papyrus barks out a laugh. “What I’m saying is—you’re not anything I’ve ever expected in my entire life. You’re you. And, being yourself, you deserve to make your own decisions.” He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s a lot more for me to learn. I’ve never been good at this whole…caretaker thing—” Fran feels their heart skip a beat at that, “—and I don’t really understand you most days, but…I care about you. Almost as much as I do my brothers, so as far as I’m concerned, you’re family.”
They probably think that too, Fran thinks, blinking away their surprise. “So we’re good?”
The skeleton nods. “Yup. But try not to do it again, alright?” he says, punctuating it with a grin and a wink.
They giggle. “Sure thing, Dad.”
“Don’t call me Dad.”
It’s always weird hearing you call him that.
How so?
It just is. You know he’s technically my brother, right?
Is he?
I think so.
He’s not my brother, though.
I know, he’s your dad, but he’s my brother.
Fran wrinkles their nose. “Confusing.”
“What’s confusing?” Toriel greets them with a question, hands folded in front of her and eyes fiery and bright. A face peeks out from behind her, weary and exhausted, the other newcomer fidgeting with their hands.
Fran’s eyes widen. “Sans is coming, too?” they gasp.
Toriel and Papyrus share an amused smirk while Sans just waves. “Gaster wanted to accompany us to make sure things went smoothly,” Toriel explains, “but his leg would make it difficult for him to be of much use in a situation where we’d be attacked. Sans offered to take his place.”
“He’s your babysitter,” Papyrus teases.
Fran puffs. “Not a baby.”
“Didn’t you say you’re a year old?” Toriel asks.
Everyone but Fran laughs.
“Are the lot of you good to go?” Gerson shouts from the driver’s seat, peeking out of the window to look at them. “We don’t got all night! The stars are already starting to come out!”
“We’re going, we’re going,” Papyrus calls back. He looks back to Fran, nodding towards the carriage. “You first—jump in.”
They do. Sans follows suit, taking the seat next to them, while Papyrus and Toriel sit behind them in a separate row of seats. The carriage door clatters closed behind them, the gentle hum of magic filling their ears.
Sans bumps their shoulder with his and they turn, the skeleton giving them a warm grin. Nervous? he asks.
They can’t help but nod. They hated to admit it, but it’s fact; they’re terrified. Terrified of what’s to come, of what will happen, of meeting Rik. But at the same time, they’re excited, giddy even, to get out and see more of this strange world that continues to elude them, full of mysteries they can’t even begin to imagine. Their determination burns through their veins, growing stronger and stronger with their resolve.
Sans considers them, then snorts, leaning back in his seat. Don’t be. It’ll work out; we’ll be here for you if you need us.
You, too, they sign back. Here for you always.
Of course.
They smile in response.
“Ready?” Gerson calls.
“We’re ready, Gerson.”
Vrrr!
The wheels on the carriage whirl to life, rolling forward and out into the unknown. Fran closes their eyes and leans against Sans’ shoulder, steadying their breath.
It’ll be fine, they tell themselves. We just have to stay determined.
**
FRAN—LV?? ??:???
Carriage
* The REAL journey begins.
* You are filled with HOPE.