Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Map of the areas outside of Ebott City that pertain to this story, and the one preceding it.

 
(ABOVE) A little timeline for this series, to put everything in perspective, Not going to say it's all accurate, just having a little fun. ^^

(BELOW) Some details on how Skeleton Monsters work. 

(BELOW) Monster children are identifiable by their stripes clothing. The size and number of stripes, however, are more telling than
you might think at first glance:

The original version of what existed of this story prior to its being rewritten can be found: HERE

Read at your own risk. But I suggest you just stick with this, lest ye start confusing the old with the new. ;)

Chapter Text

Red...

Chapter Text

The late night hour was sticky, heavy, and humid; a straightforward example of a typical August night on the Surface. It might not have been the all consuming heat of Hotland, but it was still an impressive temperature for a place not located within a network of blazing lava flows. The Surface was a beautiful place, true, but it had also proven itself to be a bit unkind in its extremes. Winters in Ebott were very cold, colder, in their own frigid way, than Snowdin had ever been, and its summers were damp and hot. Very hot. It was as though the land itself liked to throw its worst at its inhabitants as a means of weeding out the weak and the faint of heart.

Chapter Text

Shk-snh....Snhhh-shk...

Chapter Text

If there was one thing that Undyne hated above all else, it was feeling helpless.

Chapter Text

The sunlight streaming in through the living room window was nothing like the gray, dim light of Snowdin. This light was soothing and cozy; warm in a way any light existing Underground had never been, even on the best of days. Even when the energy from the Core had been blazing the way it was supposed to, and every mechanical piece of hardware had been properly doing its job, everything had still existed in that dim, lifeless haze. Those lights had been artificial of course; florescent bulbs strapped to the high, high ceilings and flickering unpredictably, or orange flamed lanterns that hung low and dim in peoples' shops and homes. Even the light in the Hall had been false, cascading through the tall structured windows without warmth or energy; just a lie, an illusion. A trick used to sooth over the minds of those who still remembered and ached for what true sunlight had been like. Monsters like the king; like Toriel; like Gerson. It had been as fake as the chirping bird recordings Asgore had kept running in his garden, but it had been all they'd had. All the humans had left them with after the War.

Chapter Text

Frisk delightedly munched on the last bite of her pancake breakfast, watching with an amused smile as Papyrus ushered his teetering brother through the dining room and out into the kitchen. She enjoyed the banter and gentle teasing between them, their contrasting voices lending an air of familiarity to the morning routine. Despite a difficult night, the brothers were still their usual selves, as much of a caricature of themselves as they always were. Yes, Sans looked a little worse for wear; ragged, his shoulders a little too slouched and sockets a little too shadowed, but his smile was genuine. Tired, but genuine. He looked a good deal steadier than he had the night before, though that might just have been Sans putting on a front for the others. He had the uncanny ability to shore up all his defenses when he wanted to, a mask without crack or dent. But still, Frisk was more perceptive than some, and she'd seen Sans at his best, and his worst. For now, he was neutral. Caught between exhausted acceptance and silent endurance, jacketed in a calm voice and a lazy grin. Frisk could only hope that the next few nights would be kinder to him; give him a chance to regain the sleep he had lost. Let him build his mental and emotional walls back up before they crumbled away completely. He certainly looked like he needed it.

Chapter Text

Sans took a deep breath as he leaned leisurely against the rough wooden frame of the open front door. A few white, crispy paint chips flaked off as his shoulder brushed them and fluttered down to the threshold. Not a big deal. The place was due for a new coat at some point. Maybe that fall, during Thanksgiving break or something when Undyne and Asgore were both around more to continue maintenance on the old structure. Sans might even help, if he happened to be feeling particularly energetic.

Which was unlikely, but it was the thought that counted, right?

Morning was officially dwindling away, the sun reaching its zinith but not quite there yet. There was a nice breeze wafting in, gentle and soothing as it tugged at the skeleton's clothes and brushed up against his tender bones. He was feeling a little sensitive, the sensation sharper than it should have been. Frisk might have been right about him having the shower temperature up too high; he felt like he'd lost a few layers of malulite, burned them away with scalding water. Not that his body's magic wouldn't reform the layers in a few short hours, but for now he was all open to the summer air. It felt good, in a vulnerable sort of way, not painful just a little much. Like a hundred years worth of grime had been scrubbed away and left him raw.

That, and he smelled of lavender soap, his bones whiter and smoother than they had been in a while. Even his sore eye socket was feeling a bit better, Alphys' cream having done its job to sooth away that irritating sting.

Sans gave a small sigh, eye lights wandering up somewhat longingly to stare at the ceiling, his arms moving to wrap around himself even as he managed to keep that casual look about him. He would have liked to grab his jacket, any of his jackets really, but a scolding from Papyrus as he and Undyne had run out the door echoed in Sans's skull. About how it was too warm and too beautiful a day to cover up. Sans certainly didn't agree; he liked being well covered no matter the weather or time of year, but he also liked making his brother happy and he knew that if he showed up at the restaurant later that afternoon swathed in layers of clothing that Papyrus would be disappointed. He might not say as much, but he would be.

That was enough incentive for Sans to resist the urge to teleport upstairs and raid his half of the closet. His hoodie would have made him feel better in general, feel safe and comfortably confined, but he wasn't so dependent on the feeling that he'd breakdown and cry in public without it. He could settle for his shorts and t-shirt if he had to.

Sans tightened his arms over his chest and smiled as he watched Toriel flit to and fro from view, from one room to the next. From his position by the door, staring down the hall, it looked kind of like one of those chase scenes from the old Scooby Doo cartoons, the ones where cheesy 60s songs blared in all their Hannah-Barbara montage glory while the characters ran comically in place before zooming off screen. Toriel weaved in and out of doors in a similar fashion, minus the music, as she made sure all the windows were closed and secured and all the lights were turned off. Sans was pretty sure she even checked the stove a few times, just in case.

Not a bad idea. No sense coming home to a heap of cinders where their house should be. Not when an incident like that could be avoided. Sans had seen on the news -flashes of disturbing billows of smoke and frantic fire fighters- what it looked like when a house caught fire. It was never pretty, and always ended in varying levels of tragedy. And with as dry and aging as the old farmhouse was, Sans imagined it wouldn't take much, little more than a spark, to set it ablaze.

They couldn't risk a disaster like that at Redemption. It was literally all they had. Sans supposed they could always move back to the settlement back at the base of the mountain, but...

Something soft rubbed up against Sans's leg, breaking him out of his spiraling thoughts, and he glanced down, blinking. Touka was there, purring like a motor boat and rubbing the side of her head up against the gap between his tibia and fibula. It had to be rough on her scalp, and the motion was anything but smooth as her jaw repeatedly got caught on Sans's own angles and rattled, but she didn't seem to mind. She just kept at it, insistent and doting, in a way she would never be with anyone except Sans.

It tickled enough that Sans moved away a little with a breathless laugh, before he carefully lowered down into a crouch.

"hey there, girl. come to see us off, huh?" he said softly.

Touka meowed and moved to rub against his kneecap with equal persistence.

"uh huh. i gotchya. you're here to see me off. thanks, but ya know, you didn't haft to."

The cat gave him a look that was almost sentient enough to be indignant.

Of all those living in the farmhouse, the scruffy feline seemed to like Sans best. She was less skittish around him, less on edge in a way that spoke of fondness. Maybe it was because he wasn't always trying to catch her or grab at her so he could get in a few unwanted pats. He wasn't going to name any names, but there were two certain somebodies in the household that could be a little rough when it came to affection. Giving a cat a noogie wasn't exactly the best tactic when it came to getting one to like you. Nor was picking them up and carrying them around like they were some sort of fuzzy accessory. It was all well meaning, of course, but a cat wasn't going to understand that. Any more than those two certain somebodies couldn't understand the way Touka would yowl and try to scratch her way to freedom whenever they tried to hold her.

Touka was obviously a cat with history. It wasn't clear to most people, but Sans could tell. Maybe they were kindred spirits in that way, two souls with dark pasts and oddities that had simply become a part of them. Heh. Yup. Histories. Just what kind of history a stray could have Sans couldn't be sure, but he could see the way her tail would twitch nervously from side to side whenever people got too close. The way her ears would fold in tight to her skull and her fur would bristle, ready to flee or defend.

Sans had heard - seen it advertised on those animal shelter commercials - that humans could be very cruel to their pets. Monsters would never, ever treat another living creature that way; no monster that wasn't completely out of their gourd. Being made of compassion, love, and hope probably had something to do with that. Not that Touka knew the difference. All she probably knew was that someone had hurt her once, and that warranted caution with anything that walked on two legs.

Sans, apparently, was the exception. Touka wouldn't shy away from him when he was around, in fact sometimes she sought him out. It helped if he was alone, set someplace quiet on his own, which was often. She liked him because Sans was predictable, he never made fast movements or made any loud, unexpected noises. He only ever talked to her in a low, soothing voice, full of patience and kindness. It had taken a little time to coax her into that level of trust, but it had been a rewarding endeavor. There were times now when she would curl up beside him on the porch steps when he was home alone and decided to sit out in the sun. She always seemed to know when he needed that soft, pleasant pressure against his hip. Soothing. Calming.

Animals were supposed to be good for those with trauma, and though Sans inwardly denied it, he knew he was pretty messed up. More messed up than he was willing to admit even to himself. It was stupid, and foolish, but since when had Sans ever been anything else.

Maybe that was why Touka was there now. Even after showering Sans must have reeked of panic and magic. That sort of thing stuck with a monster, for a time. Other monsters were going to be able to sense the static-like disturbance in his soul for another several more hours, which was rather embarrassing, and there was nothing saying that animals couldn't sense it on him just as strongly. It would explain why Touka always seemed more touchy-feelly in the hours succeeding one of Sans's bad nights.

Heh. If that was the case, animals were pretty cool.

Clicking his teeth softly, Sans held out his hand, low and limp; not forceful, just offering. "how ya doing today, buddy? lookin' good. tori's been feeding ya scraps, huh? she'd deny it, but we both know the truth, huh? hm. gettin' kinda plump, though. healthier than that first time we saw ya, but tori better lay off on giving you stuff for a little while. or else you'll be rolling in like a beach ball."

Touka meowed, seemingly unoffended. She bumped her cold little nose against Sans's fingers before going in for a full headed nuzzle. Sans felt tension he hadn't even realized plagued him fall away. Her fur was silky, especially taking into account that she was homeless as far as they knew. Though, as his fingers trailed through Touka's fur he thought he found a few places where some briers have gotten tangled and buried. Sans tried to lightly tug them loose as he pet her, but gave up when it proved impossible. He couldn't get a good hold of the clumps, not with the way the feline was in constant motion against him. Besides, the briers were in there pretty bad. It'd probably take a brush and a pair of scissors to get them free.

Instead, Sans followed her slinking form with his hand, as her back arched and leaned into his gentle touch, ending up under her chin where he could scritch lightly.

Her purr kicked up a couple more notches.

Sans chuckled, murmuring under his breath. "ya like that, huh? feels nice? un huh. i thought so."

In his soul, Sans felt calm and happy. Which was kind of surprising considering the morning he'd had. His life had always been a bit of a chaotic roller coaster. One without seat belts. Or a rail, for that matter. If things weren't barreling out of control, he was only just barely hanging on, riding each twist and turn to the best of his ability. Sans really couldn't remember a time in his life where he wasn't working his way through some crisis or other. It was just that these days his issues were a little less dramatic. A little less like something ripped right out of fantasy or horror.

Because, honestly, Sans would take a few freaky nightmares any day if it meant waking up to a safe life on the Surface instead of the endless loop of the resets.

Today he was running on very little sleep, a couple hours at best, but besides a slight pressure behind his eye lights that warned him he'd be feeling it later, Sans felt pretty good. He was clean, fed, his magic was back up to as good as it was going to get, and he was apparently everyone's favorite tag-along pal for the next foreseeable future. Something about that made him feel at ease inside; safe. Being dragged all over town was probably going to be exhausting, and he knew he'd be begging for a nap before the day was over, but right then it just felt good to know he had a family that cared enough to try and actually help him.

Even when he had pushed them away for so long.

Not that Sans was planning on letting anyone crack open any of his many deep, dark, personal secrets any time soon, but he'd follow their lead and try their plan to help him sleep better. Because he really needed to sleep better. It was starting to mess with his head.

The sudden, clunky sound of someone running through the dining room made Sans look up from where he crouched in the doorway. Touka's fur bristled, her body pressing up against his leg like she was backing into a corner. A moment later, Frisk rounded the corner and out into the hall. Kid sounded like an elephant with clogs on, but the old floors of the farmhouse tended to make a lot of noise anyway, so Sans supposed it wasn't entirely her fault. That, and some people just walked with heavier steps than others. Or ran.

Frisk had her backpack on, the bright green one with the special pocket Toriel had helped her sew on so she could carry Flowey with her any time they went out. Flowey was never left home alone, for obvious reasons, and was rarely left home with Sans. Not that the others didn't trust Sans to keep an eye on the weed, but knowing how openly Flowey despised Sans, it was just common sense not to leave the two of them alone for any length of time. No sense tempting fate with some back decisions. While Sans knew he would never retaliate at all to Flowey's taunting, especially not in this timeline, he still wasn't about to put himself in a position to test how far he could be pushed. That was just a bad idea all around. Flowey was more of an annoyance these days than he was actually any kind of a threat. But still.

The weed looked absolutely miserable, jolting around hilariously on his stem with every hurried step Frisk took. His eyes were narrowed, defiant, and Sans could already tell he'd probably be complaining for most of the trip, but that couldn't really be helped. That was just how the flower was, and Sans had learned a long time ago that changes in nature were as rare as Haley's Comet, and then some. Flowey was already grumbling under his breath, the very essence of dejection, shooting Sans a glare as Frisk skidded to a stop and then dropped down to get her sandals on.

Touka fled, claws scrabbling against the old wood of the porch as she made a hasty retreat.

Sans let his extended hand drop to his knee, watching with a hint of regret as Touka streaked out into Redemption's surrounding fields, off to wherever she called home when she wasn't hiding under their porch. He gave a sigh, then grunted as he heaved himself back to his feet.

"see ya," he mumbled.

He tucked his hands into his short pockets and turned to treat Frisk to a cat pun or two, grin easy and light-hearted, but stopped short when he caught on to a feeling of tension in the air. It hadn't been there a moment ago, and though humans didn't give of magic tones of emotion, Sans had known Frisk long enough to sense something when something was up.

Sans clamped his teeth shut and fell silent, watching the child, taking her in.

Frisk was fighting to do up the straps of her brown leather sandals, movements jerky and sharp. Like she was frustrated. Her hair obscured most of her face, but Sans didn't need to see her expression to know something was wrong. He could tell just by the way Frisk held herself. By the way she was stiff and curled inward even as her personality seemed to fill the small hallway to its brim.

Yeah, no. Something about that just wasn't right.

The way Flowey was boring holes in Sans's skull with his eyes, blaming him for something, was also a tell that things weren't what they should be. Despite the way Flowey verbally abhorred any and all attachment to those living at Redemption, he had an obvious connection with Frisk. Sans certainly wouldn't call it friendship, at least not from the weed's end, but it was there nonetheless. And if Flowey was glaring at Sans for something regarding Frisk's current state, Sans supposed that would explain the way the flower was slightly hunched over the kid's back. Protective.

It probably didn't matter whether whatever this was truly was Sans's fault or not. Flowey sometimes just needed someone to hone his anger down on, and Sans was a near constant recipient. Convenient and available.

Frisk, however, was mature in ways that most kids her age could never dream to be. But she was still, essentially, a child. And it was times like this that it became all the more clear.

The closest word to how Frisk was acting now that Sans could come up with on the spot was 'pouting'; or maybe 'brooding' would have been a better description. It was rare, and seemed so drastically different from the Frisk that had held him out on the porch last night, guiding him through his own exhausted emotions. That Frisk was an older Frisk. One that had seen things, done things, that no child should ever have to. This Frisk was more unsteady, shoulders rigid and tense. More childish and readable.

Sans took a deep breath and tucked his hands further down into the depths of his pockets, settling in for whatever storm lay ahead. He took a step forward, so he was more in the hall now than the porch, and leaned his right shoulder against the wall Frisk was sitting with her back to.

"what's with the face?" he asked without preamble.

He didn't even have to see her face to picture what would be there. A twisted frown, full of uncertainty and deep thoughts. There was no use beating around the bush. Not with Frisk. She'd do the same for him and he'd appreciate it.

Sans tilted his skull a bit, angling for a better view. "it's a pretty sour look. what were ya, weened on a pickle?"

Frisk didn't answer, roughly threading the final strap of her sandal. Flowey looked about ready to have a conniption.

"hey. your face is gonna get stuck that way, kid."

Still nothing.

Sans sighed, giving up. Quieter, he said, "frisk."

That did it. Frisk gave a huff and tilted her head back. Her hair fell away to reveal her face, and Sans stilled inside as she gave him a very familiar look.

It was one he had become quite accustomed to over the last three years, one full of frustration, though not directed at Sans himself. It was a tell of Frisk's own self-directed annoyance when she came across something she couldn't fix. When she wanted to help and do what was right, but didn't quite have the means to do so. Which in and of itself was a rather terrifying prospect sometimes. Frisk was the most Determined, the Savior of the Underground, and to know there were things out there even she couldn't accomplish was a jarring reminder that she was only flesh and blood.

There were no tears on her face, or even brimming in her eyes, and for that Sans was grateful. To be honest, he was still emotionally exhausted from the night before, and another round of sympathetic tears wasn't exactly what he was down for at the moment. Frisk just looked down and defeated. There was a dissatisfaction in her daze, mixed with a plea, that spoke of failure and grievance. Nothing of a serious nature, nothing urgent, but full of weight.

"...oh," Sans said softly, taking it in. "uh...bad day?"

Frisk's expression didn't change. "Not...great. But not bad."

"just overwhelmed?"

Frisk nodded, and Sans nodded with her, understanding.

"okay. that's okay. you tell your mom?"

Frisk's face scrunched up and her frustration seemed to quadruple as Sans watched her. "Mom's the problem."

"...oh," he said again. Sans hadn't expected that. "okay...this, uh...happened awful fast. things seemed all good earlier."

"They were. And I mean they still are, it's just-"

Frisk glanced to the side, like she was ashamed. Kid thought the fate of the whole world rested on her shoulders some days, and they didn't. Sans knew they didn't. That kind of responsibility was too much for a child of twelve. Sans understood that better than most. What it felt like to have one's childhood snatched away because one had to grow up too fast to enjoy it. They all tried to reassure Frisk that it was okay when she couldn't do something an adult could, but some days those words fell a little short.

Th kid sighed. "Can...can you help her?"

Sans winced. "who? your mom?"

The kid nodded forlornly. And it was going to be real hard to say no to a face like that.

"She's just...really stressed out about the meeting today. They've been giving her so much trouble these last few months. You've seen."

Sans nodded.

"And now she just realized we're running late and she might not get to the meeting in time and-"

"Which is your fault, by the way," Flowey hissed at Sans, unhelpfully. "If she hadn't wasted her whole morning on you, and on your issues, this wouldn't have happened!"

Frisk shoved her elbow back into the side of her pack, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to jostle Flowey in his pot. "Flowey, stop."

Guilt tugged at Sans's soul, because he knew that, to at least some extent, what the weed said might be true. Toriel had spent all morning making a breakfast that would raise his magic levels back to normal, and then spent all that time trying to get him to agree to going in to town with her. If it was anyone's fault, if Toriel was all at once feeling stressed out and pressed for time...yeah, it was Sans's.

But he wasn't going to let that drag him down more than necessary. That wouldn't help matters in the least, and would only give Flowey the satisfaction of knowing he had managed to get under Sans's skin.

Sans swallowed. "is she...cryin' or somethin'?"

"No," Frisk assured quickly, and Sans nearly sagged in relief. He wasn't much good with his own emotions, never mind someone else's. If Toriel had been all out crying, he really doubted whether he would of been of any help to her, other than a sympathetic presence. "She's just...you know how she can get sometimes. When she's freaking out."

Sans did.

Toriel was typically a very calm and regal monster. Motherly, friendly, and gentle. But Sans happened to know she was also an incessant worrier. He sometimes wondered how she dealt with it, always concerned with so many other peoples' welfare. It was a wonder she hadn't broken down and given up on the occupation altogether, it had to be exhausting being the pillar of strength for so many people. But every so often, Toriel did lose a bit of that calm. It wasn't drastic, or loud, or violent; just strained. Like she was a piano with all its wires pulled far too tight. Probably wasn't going to snap, but if she was no one wanted to be around to witness it.

Had Sans had a lip, he'd have been gnawing it. "so what you want me to do?"

"Talk to her," Frisk persisted. "Try and cheer her up. She thinks that just because we're running late that everything's falling apart. That's not true."

"an' i'm the one who has to do this because...?"

Frisk's stony expression morphed into a slow smile. "Because you're her best friend, and she needs you."

Sans stared back at her. "...okay, now that's just playin' dirty."

The kid laughed. "Well, it's true. I tried to talk to her, but I'm her kid. She's not going to open up about things to me the way she would with you. You've known each other for a long time now, it shouldn't be that hard."

"says the kid who's could literally remind time." Frisk frowned and Sans sighed. "okay. i'll see what i can do."

Frisk leaped up, Flowey yelping at the sudden movement. She wrapped her arms around Sans's chest, arms and all, and hugged him tightly. Sans blinked, trying to ignore Flowey's look of utter disgust two inches from his face. Fondly, Sans closed his eyes and returned the embrace as much as he could.

"Thanks, Sans," she whispered into his neck. "You're the best."

"yeah, yeah. i'm a champ."

"Or a chump," Flowey supplied, mean and growling.

"heh. yeah, that too."

Sans straightened and stepped back just in time for Toriel to come sweeping into the hall to join them.

For all her usual outward calm and peace that morning, Toriel now looked stressed to her limit. She had been rushing around and muttering to herself ever since they'd adjourned their little family meeting, and that frazzled demeanor that had started bending her brow down had finally won out and conquered most of her face. She was full on frowning now. She wasn't even looking at him and Frisk, caught up with the task of trying to find her own shoes and purse in a whirl of movement that quite undermined her size.

She had changed, Sans noticed, put on something a little more formal than the heart-print dress from before. Her fur had obviously been brushed, but the moisture in the air had made it frizzy. She looked like a giant, white cotton ball that lost in a fight with a hairdryer. That probably wasn't helping her mood. Tucked under her arm Toriel had a thick blue folder, the one she had been stuffing chock-full with home done research for the past three months. She was gripping it like a lifeline, and Sans was afraid she was going to strain something if she didn't relax a little.

Frisk had been right to worry.

Toriel's expression was panicked and lost, an emotion that tugged at Sans's soul a good deal harder than he had been expecting.

It was just the four of them in the house now. All the others had already left about a half hour before. Undyne and Papyrus had planned to jog all the way to Ebott Park for training, while Alphys and Asgore had walked the mile and a half to the nearest bus stop. The same one that Sans, Toriel, Frisk, and Flowey would be heading to in another minute or so. They would be catching transit bus 35, one of two buses that ran the circuit between Mount Ebott, Ebott City, and the the surrounding countryside in between.

Frisk moved to the side, shooting Sans another look that clearly checked to make sure he wasn't about to back out. Sans was a lot of things, but he wasn't about to turn his back on the woman who'd accepted him into her home and family, not when she needed him. It sounded weird in his head, but Sans accepted his fate. Because, despite all of Sans's own existential problems, he was somehow still one of the most level headed adults in the house apparently. And certainly the only other adult in the house at the moment.

Subtly, so Toriel wouldn't see while she was clumsily trying to slip on her flats with one hand, Sans caught Frisk's eye and tilted his head toward the door. Frisk got the message and nodded, slipping quietly past Sans's shoulder and out onto the porch with Flowey. Near enough to be seen, but far enough that Sans and Toriel could have a quiet conversation in privacy.

This left Sans and Toriel in the hall, alone.

Sans instantly regretted all his life choices, but took a deep breath and steadied his grin. "ya remember everything, t?" Sans asked cheerfully.

He kept his voice casual and low, hands slipping back into his pockets like everything was fine and dandy. His face was schooled in a sincere expression, hoping that his words wouldn't set his friend off even more. Toriel wasn't prone to fits of anger, but her frustrations, her behavior under stress, wasn't much fun for her or anyone within the blast radius. The fuse was already lit, he didn't want to blow on it to help it along.

Toriel struggled to get the back of her shoe over the fluffy heel of her foot, huffing slightly in exasperation as she braced her broad shoulder against the wall. Sans would offer to help, but that was weirder than he was willing to risk, even for her. He watched as Toriel finally won the battle with her shoe and straightened back up, the Boss Monster running a shaky hand - the one not strangling the heck out of that folder - through her head fur with an unsteady laugh.

"I think so. I suppose no matter how many times I check and recheck I will always feel as though I am leaving something behind. But I have been as thorough as I can be. I have closed and locked all the windows in case it rains before we get back. I made sure the back door is latched. I turned off all the lights and electronics, including the computer and the lamp in the wash room. I...I believe I have all of my paperwork. It should all be here in this folder. I have a pen. My TIN card. I have my-"

Nope. This was making her even more stressed out. Sans berated himself and went forward with a different tactic. This one more sincere.

"-purse and all of my other-"

"tori?" Sans interrupts her gently.

Toriel's wandering gaze snapped to his, big and bright, magenta orbs with so much kindness and, currently, so much panic. Sans met that gaze and gave her his most encouraging smile. It was probably less effective than usual, what with how tired he was - he dark shadows under his sockets probably weren't helping - but he gave it his best.

"can i tell you somethin'?"

Toriel sighed, already moving toward the door. "Sans, dear, this is not the time. Can you not tell me once we are on the road? We are running very la-"

Sans stepped in front of her, blocking the door. She could have easily swept him aside, but Sans knew she wouldn't. Toriel pulled up short, looking distressed and as annoyance as someone of her personality could be.

"mmmh, i think you'll wanna hear this."

Another sigh, harsher this time, but Toriel didn't argue. She gave him a look that spoke of little patience and a warning that he had better be quick.

Sans took a breath.

"you're gonna do great, you know," he told her sincerely. He tried to push all his belief he had in her into those few words. Because they were true. "you've worked real hard to make it this far. you've fought against prejudice and governmental mumbo-jumbo. i'm real proud of ya, t. we all are. ya just have to keep at it a little longer. keep it together for another few weeks, that's all. i know it's hard, but you've got this, t."

Toriel blinked, looking rather taken aback, but then she shook her head. "That is very sweet of you, my friend, but really i do not have time to-" She tried to step around him again but Sans merely moved to continue blocking her path. "Really, Sans, you are being very childish."

"maaaaaybe," he challenged, "but no more childish than you're being right now."

"And how is that?"

Sans crooked his smile. "well, for one, you're freaking out over nothing."

Toriel's brow lowered. "Sans," she warned in a low voice, "do not make me regret my inviting you along. I am not 'freaking out', as you say, I am only trying to get to my meeting on time and failing."

"you're not late."

"It is nearly 10:53 AM!" Toriel barked, a good deal louder than she normally would, and Sans barely held back from flinching. "We should have already have left at 10:44, and now we are late, Sans!"

She was more angry with herself then at him, Sans knew. But it was still hard to stand there under her fiery gaze when she was that upset. It made Sans want to shrivel up and cram himself under the nearest rock. But he held firm.

"no. we're not", he told her in an even voice. At her derisive snort, Sans continued. "i can get us to the bus stop in less than two seconds flat, t. that'll save us, what? fifteen minutes? we're not late. we're right on time."

As he had spoken Toriel's expression had gone from frustrated, to shocked, to concerned all within the span of a few short moments. "Sans, dear, no. No, no, you cannot take any shortcuts. Not today." Her voice was insistent, and stubborn. "Not after such a rough night. I will not stand for it. You could be hurt."

Ever since the others had realized it took a considerable amount of energy for Sans to teleport, they'd all stopped relying on him for transportation. Even as Sans had assured them it wasn't a big deal, and that he knew his limits, being asked to bring people back and forth even short distances had all but stopped. It had been weeks since Sans had offered, and at least a month since anyone had asked. He could never bring anyone far, but it had been handy there, for a while.

Sans chuckled. "tori, m'not gonna get hurt." She opened her mouth to continue objecting, but Sans held up a hand. "an' no one else will either. it's my power, t. has been for a really long time. don't you think i'd be able to tell when i'm up for it or not?"

Toriel looked distressed, torn between wanting to be on time for her meeting and wanting him to be safe. "But sometimes you do not always put your health above-"

"fair enough. i'm a jerk like that, i know. i'm working on it. but i don't do that when it comes to other peoples' safety, right? i don't mess with the welfare of people i care about. i wouldn't offer if i couldn't do it, tori. i wouldn't take that risk. not with you. and not with frisk."

With Flowey, yeah, maybe.

Toriel's expression continued to soften. "You...you are not too tired?"

"a little, but not enough that it's gonna make any difference. taking a 'port to ebott city would be askin' a bit much, but to the bus stop?" Sans shrugged. "no problem."

Her gaze narrowed. "You are not lying to me, are you, Sans? Or...stretching the truth?"

"nope." Not this time. It was sad she even had to ask. "i'm a-okay. that breakfast really did me a lot of good, t. ya should open a pancake shack out on route one."

Toriel blushed, though she recovered quickly. "I...I am glad that is the case, but I..."

"tori?"

"...Yes?

"let me do this for ya, okay?" Sans held out his hand, just as gentle and offering as he had been with Touka. Like one false move and Toriel would be backing away and hissing at him. Now there was a funny mental image. "it's the lease i can do for all you've done for me. for all of us, really...please?"

Toriel folded like a cheap suit.

She hesitates only long enough to give Sans a tired smile before her own hand reaches over and wraps huge, soft fingers around his small, bony ones. His hand is engulfed in fluff, and it's the gentlest, kindest, most trusting hold Sans thinks he's ever received. It's certainly more of all three than he rightly deserves. Trying to match Toriel's soulful touch, Sans gave her hand a slight squeeze, before he tugged her carefully toward the open door.

He leads her out onto the porch, chipped paint peeling beneath his sneakers. Frisk and Flowey, who must have settled on the lowest porch step when Sans's back was turned, sat up and looked to the two adults, questioning and curious. Frisk's eyes flitted from Sans's face, to Toriel's, and then down to their combined hands, her face breaking into a beaming smile. There was relief there too, of which Sans could totally relate.

Sans returned the smile, throwing in a wink for good measure, before he held out his free hand to Frisk. At her bewildered expression, Sans supplied, "grab a hold, kiddo. i know a shortcut."

A flash of understanding, and then Frisk was up and standing as Sans's left side, griping the life out of his fingers. Sans briefly adjusted the hold, discreetly made sure Flowey was well tucked in Frisk's backpack pocket, and then took a breath and closed his eyes.

He pictured the Surface, all he had seen of it, all he could sense. It was so much, so mind blowingly huge that he had to strain a little to narrow it all down. So overwhelming, and yet he had only ever seen but one small patch of the world. He concentrated, mentally searching the map in his skull of all the places he had ever been. His mind automatically snapped to thoughts of the Underground, to Snowdin and Waterfall, Hotland and New Home. He brushed them aside with a strange shuddering feeling, a mix of revulsion and fondness. Beyond those images more came drifting in; of the monster settlement, of Redemption.

"the bus stop," Sans muttered to himself, too low to be heard by his present company. "jus' the bus stop today. nothing else."

And there it was.

The minute Sans could picture the small, dusty, roadside bench he stepped sideways into the Void, dragging the others along with him for the ride.

The world around them, the sun-lit gorgeous day, was all at once replaced with inky black. It was quite a jolt, or at least it seemed to be. Sans was pretty used to it by that time, but he felt both Toriel and Frisk tighten their hold on him in surprise. It had to be pretty unnerving, taking a leap across space when you weren't the one driving. Sans wouldn't know, as he was the only person, monster or otherwise, that he had ever come across with that ability. But he could easily imagine how jarring the feeling had to be, so he squeezed his friends' hands in reassurance.

There was no sound in the Void. No sensation other than those he'd brought with him. The nothingness stretched out before them, behind them, and around them - black, with no relief in sight.

What felt like an eternity, as it always did, was really no longer than a blink. But even those few milliseconds seemed to drag on unusually long, and Sans felt his soul tumble-jolt the slightest bit, his legs heavy like he was trudging through hip-deep sludge. It wasn't the usual sensation Sans was used to, but he wasn't worried. Especially when a mere fraction of a second later the four of them were thrust back out into the light of day.

Sans felt his sneakers grind against gritty dirt, the smell of tall sweet grass and the songs of birds nearly overwhelmingly strong. They had arrived right where Sans had been aiming. Before them was the well worn dirt road, stretching onward left and right as far as the eye could see. Sparse trees and long rolling fields existed beyond, tall and thriving as summer reached its peak. Behind them stood an old wooden bench made of cut logs, rough but sturdy enough that Toriel could have sat on it without fear.

He winced at the sudden intensity of it all, even as Toriel and Frisk's hands jolted out of his own.

"Good heavens!" Toriel gasped, one hand pressed against her chest as she caught her breath. "Is it always so-" She choked on a swallow before continuing. "So startling?"

Frisk looked equally spooked, her wide, brown eyes locked on Sans. She was much more accustomed to Sans's manner of travel, both from their current timeline, and all those preceding it. But apparently this one had been quite a bit rougher than even she had been expecting.

Flowey looked disoriented and fuming, but since when wasn't he?

Sans gave a forced laugh, tucking his hands into his pockets so they wouldn't notice their shaking. He'd have to do some experimenting later, try and figure out why the jump had been so rough. He'd consider talking to Alphys about it, but that might prompt the scientist to start poking around inside him. And there was a lot of stuff inside him that Sans didn't want being seen. Least of all by someone, friend as she was, who would then start asking a lot of questions. It was bad enough that Alphys and the others knew that Sans had only one HP. They didn't need more reasons to be curious. Or concerned.

"it's a little bit of a bumpy ride sometimes," Sans chuckled. "not really sure what determines just how much or how little, but we made it just fine, so no biggie."

Toriel gave him a disapproving look, and Sans couldn't blame her. But really, it wasn't that bad. Sans would have been able to tell if something had truly been wrong. In all his years of resets, all those do-overs, Sans had never gotten stuck in the Void. To assume a little...stickiness? To assume that a little stickiness was cause for panic was unwarranted. Sans wasn't lying, sometimes teleports were rough.

This one had just been a little more so than normal.

Before anyone could dig deeper into things, Sans rocked back on his heels and nodded further down the road. "an' look at that. right on time, tori. there's the bus."

The others turned to see that, yes indeed, the bus was just within sight, on its way back from the base of the mountain. Which meant that it was probably filled with an assortment of humans and monsters. A blessing, in a way. It meant they wouldn't have to ride in a bus completely packed with humans. Sans wasn't too fond of being cooped up in small places to begin with. Match that up with his common distrust of humans and he was bound to be a little on edge. Not that he had anything against humans in particular, it was just that, after an entire life being warned against them, it was hard to set certain feelings of uneasiness aside. It wasn't prejudice, just a lingering byproduct of a war Sans hadn't even been alive to witness.

Besides, many humans felt very much the same way about them.

The bus came to a slow, rumbling stop in front of the four of them, hissing exhaust and kicking up a lot of tan road dust. It wasn't a bus like the ones Sans had used to find books about at the Dump for Papyrus. Not those bright yellow buses that supposedly took children to school and back. No, this was a 'shuttle' bus, as Mary had once called it. The kind that were usually employed in cities and, apparently, at colleges to drive between places without too many stops. Where they could circuit around, picking up and dropping off passengers from dawn until dusk in an eternal loop.

The bus was white and green, advertisements for health care and sometimes local businesses covering every free space. The bus was long, with two sets of doors that opened and closed at the driver's prompting like those things people in old movies always dressed behind. Only these were fairly transparent. The windows were slightly tainted, but not enough that one couldn't see the silhouettes of passengers through the glass. It looked sturdy enough, though Sans always marveled at how thin the walls actually were when riding inside.

Toriel stepped forward, Frisk's hand in hers even though Frisk was more than old enough to get on a bus by herself. The front side doors opened with a clatter of plastic and metal, the bus driver giving a low greeting as she came in sight. Sans didn't take the bus often enough to recognize the middle aged, moderately portly woman, but she seemed nice enough and Toriel gave her a gentle smile.

"Good morning, Gladys," Toriel nodded in acknowledgement. "I hope you are well. How is your knee?"

Gladys, who Sans was pretty sure he'd never met, gave her knee a rub with a wince. "Doctor says it's water around the joint. Gave me some meds and told me to stay off putting any weight on it for the next while. I didn't tell him that's not really a problem, seeing as I...you know." She gestured to the bus. "S'not like I'm running any marathons or nothing."

Sans chuckled lowly and Gladys' eyes flitted toward him. She seemed surprised, before her face broke out into a smile.

"Got some extra baggage today, I see," she grinned at Toriel. Then to Sans she said, "You look like you just might be Papyrus's brother, am I right?"

The skeleton nodded, following Toriel and Frisk up onto the bus and extending his hand in greeting. "sans. sans the skeleton."

Gladys shook his hand with genuine pleasure. "Nice to finally meet you. I'm Gladys. Gladys Hayze. You know, your brother talks about you all the time. Didn't get to pick him up today though, was headed the wrong direction."

Toriel dug something out of her purse, smiling but obviously feeling the pressure to get underway. "I am sorry to hurry you along, Gladys, but I have a meeting to be on time for and I-"

"Not another word," Gladys hummed, already shutting the bus doors. She reached out and took what Sans recognized as Toriel's TIN card, scanning it quickly before handing it back. "We'll get you there in plenty of times, even if I have to go five over the speed limit to do it."

Toriel took back her card, a hint of seriousness to her tone. "Staying at the appropriate speed will be more than enough, but thank you."

"My pleasure." Glady's gave Sans a wink. "You got your TIN card, sweetheart?"

Sans blinked, thrown off by the woman's bold nature. He could just make out Frisk from the corner of his eye, smirking at the slight blush that was surely creeping across his face. A little less graceful that normal, Sans fished the thin chained necklace he'd had hidden under his t-shirt, at the end of which dangled his TIN card.

TIN cards (Temporary Identification Number cards) had been issued out to every registered monster that had come out of Mount Ebott. Any monster above the age of Final Stripe were given the small, plastic item and told to have it on them at all times, or at least whenever they left home. Sans was a particularly forgetful monster when it came to things like identification, so Frisk had come up with the necklace idea. Kind of like dog-tags that men in the military wore, or so Sans had been told.

The cards themselves were equipped with a picture of its owner taken within a week of their freedom, a designated identification number, its owner's general information, their stats, and a list of permissions and uses - what a monster could use the card for. TIN cards functioned as a form of ID and gave monsters day access to any and all public establishments. They also were proof of legal registration and identification. So, like, if a monster got in trouble with the police or wanted to prove their age to get into a bar or something.

Last but not least, a TIN card could be used like what humans referred to as a 'credit card'. It wasn't quite the same, but since their freedom the Ebottian government, and a few neighboring cities, had set up a network supplying all monsters with funds for basic needs, until rights for them occupying the working class could be obtained. Because monster currency underground had consisted of gold coins, the Ebottian government had come up with a credit-based system to keep their current exchange rate system from being overrun with gold. Seeing as gold was more valuable on the Surface than it had been under the mountain, it had proven to be quite an issue.

So now each monster was given fifty credits worth of currency on the TIN card a month, which amounted to about 100 US dollars, 90 euros, 77 pounds sterling, or about 2.29 grams of gold. It wasn't a lot, especially over the span of a month, but was sufficient when pooled together with the funds of other friends and family. It just required a bit of careful budgeting and easy spending.

Sans maneuvered the chain from around his neck and skull, then handed it to the bus driver. She took it with a smile, scanning it a little slower than she had with Toriel's. Probably because she wasn't familiar with him. Good girl. Doing her job right. They needed more people like her on their side.

Gladys' eyes paused over Sans's stats, some of the jovial glow dimming in her gaze as she doubtless noticed his HP. Humans had learned a lot about monsters over the last three years, including the significance of a monsters stats. There was no way she could see those numbers written on Sans's card and not know how wrong they were.

Graciously, she didn't say anything. Instead she gave a curt nod, handing Sans back his card with another smile. "All's in order. Welcome about, dear."

"heh. thanks."

"Just go on ahead and take a seat anywhere there's spots free. I think there are a few in the far back. S'a bit bumpy back there, that's why people don't take them. But you'll be fine."

Toriel nodded. "Do you need the papers for Frisk?"

"Nah, you're good. I know she's your kid, you don't have to prove it to me." Gladys waved them back. "Let's get you to that meeting."

Toriel muttered a quick thank you and grabbed Frisk's hand yet again. Frisk didn't pull away, letting her adoptive mother have her way with guiding her around. It was probably giving Toriel a feeling of control, something she needed at that moment for sure. Sans followed closely behind them, shuffling his way through the crowded bus. The vehicle gave a jolt, starting to move before they had even managed to sit down, but Sans supposed Gladys had a strict schedule to follow, and enough time had been spent on them already.

The sudden motion nearly made him stumble, but Toriel, and a few other monsters who were seated nearby, reached out and steadied him. Sans gave returned their nervous expressions with a weak smile.

"h-heh. does she always do that?"

Toriel gave his shoulder a squeeze, then continued to edge toward the back of the bus, now holding onto his shirt instead of Frisk's hand. "It seems to be a common habit of all bus drivers. At least all the ones I have had the fortune to meet. Gladys is one of the more careful drivers, but that is a relative statement."

Seeing as Gladys had seen his stats and probably tried to go easy on him, that was really saying a lot. Bus trips must have been like an amusement park ride any other day when Sans wasn't present.

Sans had been right, the bus was full of both human and monster passengers. Naturally, Sans knew a number of them, but none of them were ones that had lived in his region of the Underground so he didn't really know them well. The rest had probably been residents of New Home; Sans may have seen them in passing but didn't know their names.

The humans on the bus were all of the same brand, young and middle aged men and women, tourists probably, and people who had gone out to visit Grillby's and taste monsterkind's brand of food and drink. Sans hadn't been himself in quite a while, nearly a year and a half, but he had heard that Grillby had managed to transport his bar, piece by piece, to the Surface settlement and opened it to the public. Seeing as there were a lot of very satisfied looking humans on the bus, Sans reckoned his elemental friend must be doing fairly well for himself.

People of both races watched as the four newcomers made their way to their seats. Many sets of eyes zeroed in on Sans, as he was unfamiliar to many of them. The monsters narrowed their eyes in concern, doubtless detecting the slight static in his magic that spoke of his panic from the night before. Sans felt naked under such searching gazes, though he at least knew no one would CHECK him, not without his permission.

"It is alright, dear," Toriel murmured as she scooted into a free seat. There wasn't enough room for all of them, so she pulled Frisk up to sit on her lap and then carefully tugged Sans in to sit in the seat beside her. She leaned close enough to whisper to Sans that the soft fur of her muzzle tickled his forehead. "They are only concerned. Or curious. Ignore them."

Sans nodded and busied himself with sliding his TIN card chain back over his skull and tucking it back into his shirt.

There were only a few stops in between the Redemption bus stop and Ebott City, and though the ride itself was supposedly only about 25 minutes Sans felt that it was far longer. The bus was hot and smelly, the air conditioning having apparently broken and many of the humans having foregone their morning showers. It was also hard on some of Sans's other senses. Like his magic, which was picking up and resonating with the magic of a lot of the other monsters' magic. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but in such a tight space, with so many with magic so much stronger than Sans's own, it was quickly wearing him down. It pressed in on him, friendly, but maybe too much so, and no one but him seemed to be experiencing a problem with it.

Another problem was the Judge. That odd little entity in Sans's soul that was him but so much older, that picked up on the sins of others and passed judgement as naturally as breathing. Sans wasn't trying to, in fact he was downright fighting the instinct to read into the cluster of human souls around him, but a few slipped in. The man in the far corner, up by the front row where passengers sat sideways instead of forward facing, he had a streak of cruelty in his soul. Not strong enough to be outright murder, but certainly no one Sans would want Frisk or his brother to meet in some dark alley somewhere. There was also a woman, young and curled inward, who exuded sorrow. It was so sharp and deep Sans could almost feel her grief cutting into his soul. She had been wronged, greatly, but she was also choosing to deal with it alone. She didn't want help, and Sans instinctively granted that request.

It seemed like an incredibly long time before the passing fields outside the windows morphed into gray buildings and blurring panes of dark glass. There were sidewalks, and telephone poles, and far more humans than Sans had seen in a while. His few trips to Ebott City before had been late at night or very early in the morning, so he hadn't really seen the city at its busiest. Cars shuffled and cut in front of each other and around the bus, one even having the audacity to blare his horn.

Humans. So patient.

The bus came to a lulling stop on the curb of a very busy street. Sans had missed the name of the road, not that it would have mattered. He didn't know the city well enough for it to make much difference.

Toriel nudged Frisk off her lap, and tapped Sans's leg so he would move to let her out. Sans did so, only getting a few steps forward before he had to wait for those in front of him to file off the bus. It was chaotic order, a stream of elbows and grocery bags and bodies of all sizes trying to get out and onto the street as quickly as they could. Sans let them go. He wasn't about to risk his life trying to get off a bus.

Finally they made it up front, the last four off. Gladys gave them all a smile and wished them luck, and then they were out in the semi-open air of a summer city day. The bus doors clattered shut and the bus engine thrummed as it pulled away from the curb, stranding Sans and the others in the sea of populace.

Sans pressed close to Toriel's side, mindful not to be clingy but certainly having no shame in keeping her within easy reach. Humans of every age and color bustled around them, many of them not even giving them a glance. They all seemed to be in a hurry, off doing their own things without a care to anyone else's lives. Monsters dotted the crowd like the occasional crumb of familiarity, and Sans used them as a point of reference.

Toriel's hand on the back of Sans's neck almost made the skeleton flinch.

"It will not be quite as busy once we get off the main road," she shouted over the natural din of city life. She gave Sans a gentle, understanding look. "Are you alright?"

Sans got a hold of himself and gave her a beaming grin. "actually," and his softer voice was nearly lost in the cacophony, "i'm left handed. so, no. i'm not all right. i'm all left."

Toriel snorted a laugh, covering her mouth and giving him a playful nudge. It helped sooth away some of the tension in Sans's spine, that fallback to their normal, everyday lives. Still, as Toriel led the way along the roadside and then down a less crowded - but still more crowded than Sans would have liked - side street, she kept careful track of him. she never walked too quickly for him to keep up with, even as she kept a constant hand on Frisk's shoulder. Sans did her a favor by sticking right by her side and within easy range of her hand should the need to grab him arise.

Sans was a good dodger, if nothing else. He tried to stay alert, but not freak out.

The Ebott City Elementary and Middle School was about four blocks from where the bus had dropped them off, or about a five minute walk at the speed they were going. Sans huffed and puffed a little, his chest struggling to regulate enough air to his soul. He was out of shape, plain and simple. Not really a big surprise on his part. Another thing this whole going-out-with-everyone plan was good for: getting Undyne and Pap off his back for not exercising.

"Ah, here we are," Toriel hummed happily as they rounded the last corner and into a large, fairly empty parking lot. A large building greeted them at the far end of it, big, dull, and menacing. It sort of reminded Sans of the lab, only more granite than metal. "And with a few minutes to spare."

Sans chuckled. "see? all that worrying was for nothin'. you can count on ol' sans any time, okay?"

Anything to keep that look of defeat and stress from Toriel's face.

Toriel beamed down at him as they made it to the front of the school, starting up the few, small clusters of concrete steps. "Thank you, my friend. That means so very much to me." And he could tell it really did. "But let us not try to use your convenient magic as an excuse for poor time management on my part. I should not become so dependent on something than can wear you out."

"fair enough."

Toriel released Frisk's hand as they crested the top of the steps. Either because she needed her hand free to open the impressive double doors of the school or because she wanted to make sure not to make Frisk feel too much like a child. Sans was sure Frisk appreciated the gesture either way. She was a good kid. Sans doubted that most twelve-year-olds would allow their mothers to guide them up the steps of their soon-to-be middle school like they were three.

Another reason the kid had grown on him even more over the years.

The door opened with a protestant squeak as Toriel leaned her weight against it and they all filed inside. The cool air conditioning of the building hit them like a pleasant brink wall to the face. Sans found himself sighing in relief automatically, his magic instantly cooling. Toriel also looked relieved, and Sans imagined how much more unpleasant the bus ride and walk would have been if he'd had fur like she did. It put his whole ordeal into a far more humbling light.

Frisk grinned, spreading her arms wide and spinning as the cool air kissed her skin. "Ahhhhhhh, that's so much better!"

Even Flowey, who had visibly started to wilt, looked appreciative of the change from the summertime humidity outside.

"Yes, it does feel quite nice, does it not?" Toriel smiled. "Of course, by the time it is time to leave we will be complaining it is too cold," she chuckled.

"maybe," Sans agreed. "but for now..."

For now it felt good.

Seeing as it was a Saturday, as well as the middle of summer, the school was pretty much empty. In fact, the only other living being in sight as they moved on from the heavy double doors was a skinny human janitor who was mopping the floor down one of the adjoining hallways. He glanced up at them, pausing in his work for only a second, and then the wall obscured him from view.

The sound of Toriel's clawed feet against polished floor rang out in the silence, almost like a clock ticking, only not quite as mechanical. Frisk and Sans followed close behind, naturally falling into the rhythm like they were all marching to the same beat. Flowey, looking perhaps a little more interested as he rode in Frisk's backpack, twisted around on his stem so he could take in as much of their surroundings as possible. Sans was fairly sure he'd get bored pretty quickly, seeing as every corner they took looked relatively the same, but as long as Flowey was occupied there was peace. Sans would take that for as long as it lasted.

Toriel led the way with confidence, having visited the school many times of the past few months. She navigated the maze of hallways without backtracking or pausing, ushering them up two more flights of stairs before the reached the school's third floor and their apparent destination. They pushed their way out of the stairwell and into yet another hall, though this one, while still dull, looked to be less made for classrooms and more for offices. There was even an alcove-like waiting room, complete with carpet and toys, books, and chairs for younger children.

"Alright, this is where you will stay until I return," Toriel informed as the came to a stop. She nodded down the hall. "I will only be down at the end there, so if something important comes up and you need me, that is where you can find me."

Sans knew he wouldn't be doing that unless Frisk caught her hair on fire, or something equally dramatic. There was no way on earth, above or below it, that Sans would ruin this meeting for Toriel. The world would have to be ending for him to justify interruption.

"you got it, t."

She surprised him then, like she always seemed to be able to, by kneeling down and pulling him into a warm, gentle embrace. Her hands pressed into the back of spine, pulling him in close like he had seen her do so many times with Frisk. It felt...soothing. Protective. Like the way Papyrus always hugged him after a bad dream.

He felt himself stiffen at the sudden contact, slightly stunned. It shouldn't have been that much of a surprise at this point. The motherly Boss Monster was always pulling someone in for a soothing hold, though Sans had noticed his tally by far outweighed any of the others'. A small tendril of guilt curled around his soul, knowing that Toriel could feel how tense he was and he tried to loosen up.

He was so bad at this kind of thing.

She didn't judge though, simply held him a bit tighter, reassuringly. And with that, he forced himself to relax into the hug for her sake, wrapping his arms around her in return to the best of his ability.

"Thank you, my friend," she expressed in a whisper. "For everything. I honestly do not know where I would be without you, Sans."

That hit a lot harder than she would probably ever realize.

"aw, tori, i haven't done that much."

She smiled, giving her head a slow, fond shake and stepped back. She fixed him with a look so intense he felt as though she were looking directly into his soul. There was a fondness in that look; a fondness mixed with sorrow. It threw Sans off a little, making him feel small, vulnerable, and yet incredibly safe.

"You have done more than you know," she concluded, voice even softer than a whisper now; in fact he barely heard it. Then she was cupping her hands on his bone cheeks and pressing a furry kiss to his forehead. Sans felt his brain grind to a halt and just stood there like an idiot while Toriel turned and gave Frisk a similar treatment.

"Be good for Sans, will you not, my child?"

"I'll be good," Frisk promised. She sent Sans a smirk. "If he comes back online after that kiss before your meeting's done."

Sans shook his head to clear his thoughts and blushed lightly, glad it wasn't too visibly in the daylight. Flowey rolled his eyes in disgust, distracted until Toriel managed to sneak him a kiss goodbye as well. He recoiled, tongue hanging out and hurtful words in his mouth, but Toriel didn't take it personally.

"The meeting should go for an hour and a half or so. If it goes any longer I will ask to be excused long enough to let you know."

"m'kay. take your time." Sans noticed some of that fidgety-ness coming back into Toriel's posture. She was gripping the life out of that folder again. "an' try to relax, tori. you'll do great. remember that. 'cause there isn't much good in me sayin' it if you don't believe it."

Toriel smiled, a bit weak this time. "I will...try to remember that." She squared her shoulders. "Well. Here I go. Wish me luck."

Sans and Frisk did so, Flowey staying defiantly silent, and Toriel made her way down to the end of the hall. The three younger persons watched as she paused by the door just long enough to knock and wait for a response, before Toriel slipped in and out of sight.

And that was that.

Sans released a sigh on Toriel's behalf, before turning to take it Frisk's still-smug expression.

"somethin' funny?"

Frisk only grinned harder. "You. You don't take affection well, you know."

"wow, what a surprise. i never would have known," Sans sassed, sarcastic. Frisk laughed and he smiled. "m'just not used to it. you should know that by now."

"Even after all this time? Gosh, Sans, we give you enough hugs."

Sans huffed a laugh. "it's not the hugs that get me," he affirmed. He cast a look toward the door down the hall and blushed a little harder. "an' sometimes i swear your mom knows it."

"Mom kisses everyone, so don't get too flustered. It's not like how it was before she and Dad started getting along again."

"yeah, thank goodness for that." Sans stretched, his spine giving a few soft pops as he moved further into the waiting room alcove. "so what's on the agenda? we got a whole hour and half or more to kill, so i guess we better get to it."

Frisk leaped forward, swinging her backpack off her back in the same motion. Flowey wailed in terror, but was unharmed as she plopped him down and then plucked him from his pocket. She set the weed down on the small table in the center of the room, where he could easily see everything and grudgingly participate in their activities, whether he wanted to or not. Sans watched in amusement, flopping lazily into a child sized chair as Frisk began digging in her bag.

"I hope you're ready for a sweet time, Sans," she crowed, "because guess what I brought?"

Sans honestly didn't have a clue. "what did you bring?" he parroted obediently.

With a rattle of plastic Frisk pulled out a colorful, relatively flat cardboard box and held it over her head like that one scene from the Lion king that Papyrus always thought was so cool and dramatic. Sans was tempted to start chanting and bowing, but Frisk interrupted him before he had the chance.

"We're going to plaaaaaaaaaaaay...Candyland!"

"...heh."

Chapter Text

Toriel would never have counted herself as a particularly courageous individual. She understood that hard, cold solidness of bravery that comes with war, of the kind that stems from what must be done, but she would never have grouped herself with the bravery of soldiers marching into battle. That took a selfless type of courage and strength, and she, by her own admittance, could be rather selfish at times. And yet, she was very familiar with the stoic, firm pit in her stomach that opened up inside when she had no choice but to be brave. When circumstance and situation lent their way, and it became a matter of standing firm or falling to her knees in despair. It was a feeling that she most associated with motherhood. With sacrifice. With grief.

Here, now, as she left Sans, Flowey, and Frisk behind in the school's small alcove waiting room and walked with purpose toward that bland, polished wood door at the end of the hall - this was that same familiar courage. The kind that made her feel stiff and hard inside, as unyielding as a tree, even as her mind reeled in pliant anxiety. Her face was a mask of professionalism, a product of centuries worth of queenly conduct and the ability to project power even when she herself felt powerless. Her soul roiled in fear, but she pushed it back, spurred on by her love and passion for those under her care and the dream she was not quite ready to abandon. If she had been human she might have called it determination; fools would have called it desperation, and the wise might have considered it a firm hope.

Whatever it was, it drove her forward.

Reaching the end of the hall, Toriel hesitated only a moment before reaching out and rapping her knuckles against the door. Her fur muffled the sound a bit, but it must have been loud enough to be heard from within because a fraction of a second later she heard an affirmative 'come in'. Authoritative and far calmer than Toriel felt herself. It both made the anxiety in her soul swell and set her shoulders further back in stubborn persistence. Taking a final, deep breath to gather herself, and gripping the folder in her hand just that much tighter, Toriel gently took hold of the polished, metal doorknob. It felt so small in her grasp, so brittle and weak. As though if she squeezed too hard it would shatter between her fingers. Carefully, she turned it, pulled, and entered with all the grace she could muster.

It was a small room, small enough that it held an almost claustrophobic air to it, the sort of stuffy conference-grade quarters Toriel had come to associate with schools on the Surface. It was warmer there, as opposed to the rest of the school's air conditioned halls, and smelled of carpet cleaner and varnished wooden desks despite their absence. It was bright and achingly cheery in contrast with Toriel's current mood, and the sun streamed in through the windows making it all the more humid. The windows themselves  - large, long panes up close to the ceiling - were too high to see through to the free world outside. In some ways, it felt more like a cheery, furnished cell than a meeting room.

At Toriel's entrance, a man rose from behind a paperwork-cluttered desk at the room's center, the fellow straightening his gray pepper suit with a sharp tug and extending his hand in welcome. Toriel quickly recognized him as Wallace Frederick, the school board's chairperson. He was a middle-aged man, tall for a human but also broad and stocky in build. His skin was always rather pasty and Toriel often wondered if it was because his tight collar and maroon necktie might be strangling him. His brow was always slightly pinched as though in discomfort even when he smiled. His hair was slicked back, brown but streaked with a stripe of gray, elegant and somewhat charming. It made him look older than he was. Toriel had met with him before in less formal settings, and she had found him to be a decent enough fellow, the professional type more like many of the politicians that Toriel had met over the last three years.

Fredrick was interested in the Monster’s cause and in getting Toriel instated as a teacher, listening and nodding to whatever she had to say, but Toriel could never help but think he was always only half invested. He was slow to make decisions, and even slower to act on them. So Toriel can only thank the stars that she has managed to wrangle him into an actual meeting.

Overall, Toriel believed he was friendly and well meaning, just not entirely helpful in the long run. Then again, Toriel really had no one else to turn to in regard to trying to get hired by the school.

Mr. Fredrick greeted Toriel with his usual pinched smile, brown eyes tired but lucid. Balancing her folder and paperwork in the crook of one arm, Toriel took a few steps forward and accepted the human’s offered hand. She gave it a firm, yet gentle shake, mindful not to accidentally scratch his wrist with her claws.

“Ah, Mrs. Dreemurr,” he greeted. “Welcome. Thank you for being on time. It’s rarer these days than I’d like for people to be punctual.”

“Oh, of course,” Toriel countered kindly, using her best 'queenly' voice, a mix of motherly stern and humble acquaintance. "But please, it is Ms. Dreemurr, if you do not mind." 

She and Asgore were on much better terms than they used to be, and her care for him was slowly returning, but to associate herself in marriage with him was still a step further than she was willing to go. There were still aspects of the past she had yet to fully deal with, still had yet to move on from, and perhaps she never would. Some things she still felt could never be truly forgiven, and should not be, but...time would only tell. It was a complicated matter. In the meantime, it was still a knee-jerk reaction to distance herself as far from her old life as possible, even as her relationship with Asgore slowly improved. 

Wallace Fredrick returned the gesture and nodded as he released Toriel's hand. "Of course, my apologies. I hope I did not offend." 

"Not at all. It is not something that I had previously expressed. You could not have known." 

The chairman nodded and sat back behind his desk, scooting the chair in a bit and motioning to the empty seat before him as he turned his eyes to his own folder, one which lay open in front of him and that Toriel could just barely tell had something to do with her in general. 

"If you would, Ms. Dreemur, please take a seat and we shall proceed with this meeting. I apologize for how warm it is in here. The air conditioning unit for this room seems to be malfunctioning." 

Toriel carefully eased herself down into her place, mentally wincing when the chair gave a slight groan under her weight. She was not built for such small, flimsy furniture, her considerable size making her wonder if these humans had taken into account her species at all. She managed alright, though it was a bit of a squeeze. The chair held, but only because Toriel did her best not to allow her full weight to rest, perching more on the edge and praying she would not end up sprawled on the ground before the end of the meeting was adjourned. Still, despite her discomfort and the somewhat belittling impression the situation was giving her, Toriel felt a spark of pride in that she could still hold that same, regal posture through it all. 

"No need to apologize," she intoned generously. "I am not unaccustomed to the heat. My home beneath Mount Ebott could get quite stuffy at times. And my home here on the Surface is not equipped with air conditioning for the most part. I suppose I have become somewhat immune to the humidity." 

"Mm. Very well. Now, before we begin," Fredrick started, "allow me to introduce some of the members of our school board."

It is at that point that Toriel realized that they were not alone. Which, in hindsight, was almost silly. Toriel had known they wouldn't be, this was a board meeting after all, but she had been so uneasy about just getting in the room and seated that she had become rather narrow focused. Now she realizes that there were four other occupants in the room, all seated in chairs facing the lone one she occupied, and all of whom Toriel had never met. 

There was a woman of older years with white hair and kind gray eyes, her skin a warm, hazel hue. She sat to Toriel’s left, prim and proper in her chair, a neatly folded notepad balanced on her crossed knee. Further over on the same side of the room, a young man in his late twenties sat slouched in his own seat. He smiled at Toriel with an almost smugly apprising interest, and Toriel decided very quickly that she did not appreciate his company. To the right side of the room, standing beside his chair rather than in it, stood a broad shouldered, middle-aged man who existed there, braced with his arms crossed over his thick chest. His eyes were stern and calculating, but not entirely unfriendly. And last, but not least, to Toriel’s far right sat a heavy set woman of indeterminable age whose lips were pursed as though she had just sucked on something decidedly sour. Her gaze swept up and down Toriel’s seated form, unimpressed. Toriel could say the same for her, but held her tongue.

None of these persons, other than perhaps the kindly older woman in the corner, instilled Toriel with much confidence. They all watched her with clear, sharp eyes, taking her in with a mixed sense of curiosity and judgement. It was a good deal more attention than Toriel had been hoping for, and every bit as much as she had feared. A thrill of uneasiness crashed like a wave up against her soul, but she straightened her back and ignored it to the best of her ability. 

Beneath the fur of her hands her palms began to sweat. 

Wallace Frederick gestured to the young man that was still staring at Toriel with unashamedly large, curious eyes behind dark rimmed glasses. He certainly had a smug air and confidence to him, his thin lips pale beneath the short scruff of beard twisted up in a smirk.

"This is Kevin Mitchell,” Frederick  introduced. “One of our younger members." 

Younger, of course, being a relative term. Toriel knew enough about humans to know that this man was in his late twenties or early thirties. He was just younger than anyone else on the board, and he seemed to glean some sort of strange badge of standing because of it.

Toriel leaned forward and offered her hand, even though she had no wish to further engage the young man who was unabashedly gawking at her with amusement. "A...pleasure," she lied. 

He shook her hand with an attention that stemmed from curiosity, and not particularly the kind she liked. He did not say anything, just smiled roguishly in a way that made Toriel's stomach turn. Thankfully, even as the awkward staring continued, Mr. Frederick seemed to notice and gave a loud, obvious cough. 

“Ahem. Mr. Mitchell, if you please.”

The disturbing young man flitted his gaze to Frederick with a smile and then leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head in a show of indifference.

"You'll have to excuse Kevin," Frederick intoned with a stern look to his subordinate. "This is his first time seeing one of your kind in person." 

“Up close,” Mitchel adds in a low hum.

Toriel's eye twitched slightly, but she leveled as pleasant a smile as she could at the unprofessional fellow. "I see. No harm done. I suppose I am rather a sight, especially if one has never met a monster before now in person. Still, it might do you better to not stare at your next acquaintance. It is considered just as rude in our culture as I am sure it is in yours." 

That earned Toriel an aborted chuckle from the older woman in the corner. Frederick also looked somewhat amused, and Toriel gets the impression that she's not the only one present not particularly fond of Kevin Mitchell.

Frederick said, "Indeed. Thank you, Ms. Dreemurr.” He leveled Mitchell another look, then continued. “And, moving on, to the right we have Janice Marrburrow, the board's secretary of a good thirty-four years." 

Janice smiled, her grey eyes filled with amusement and gentle teasing. “Close. It’s going on thirty-five now.”

“Ah, yes. So it is.”

Janice Marrburrow treated Toriel to a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, hon.”

Toriel’s soul instantly felt lighter at the genuine greeting. She nodded her head in gratitude, since Janice was a bit too far to reach for a proper shake. She did not seem to mind, the woman nodding curtly back with a twinkle in her gaze.

“It is very nice to meet you, too, Ms. Marrburrow,” Toriel extends.

 Janice beams, the wrinkles in her face witness to the many smiles she had worn in her lifetime. “I hope you had a pleasant drive out from the country this morning, dear,” she said. “I used to live out that way when I was younger. Lovely area.”

“Yes, I did, thank you. And you are right, it is quite beautiful.”

There was an impatient clearing of a throat and Toriel turned to the other woman in the room, the larger one with the pursed lips. Despite her obviously unhealthy weight, she was very pretty, though Toriel could not help thinking she would be more so without the excess of makeup that caked her features. She appeared quite formal, adorned in a vibrant blue suit and a white pearl necklace. One might even say she was overly dressed for the occasion. She held an air of a woman that always dressed like that, like a queen who expected to be adored when she had clearly done nothing to earn it. She sat sideways in her chair, legs crossed and arms folded in her lap, like a model ready to be photographed. 

She met Toriel's gaze with a passive, blank stare.

Frederick jolted slightly, stuttering a bit to introduce this other woman. “A-Ah, yes. This...This is Margaret Bennington, the board's vice chairperson. She is also one of our school’s largest supporters.”

“As has all my family, for generations,” the woman boasted airily.

Toriel nodded. “I am sure it is greatly appreciated by all who work and attend here. It is nice to meet you,” she graced politely.

Margret Bennington narrowed her eyes suspiciously and hummed, looking Toriel up and down yet again. By her expression Toriel could tell that she was no more impressed than the last time.

Toriel flitted her gaze back to Frederick, wondering why such unkind behavior is being allowed in an official meeting, but the poor man looked even paler than before, licking his lips uneasily and not saying a word in Toriel’s defense.

In the awkward silence that followed, the last person in the room finally spoke up from his reclined position against the wall.

“I’m Brody Lewis. Now, come on, man, let's get this meeting started already.”

Frederick frowned. “Yes, well, I suppose we can get started.” He shuffled his papers on the desk before him, reacquainting himself with the material. "Now, to get down to business-"

"One moment, please" Toriel quickly spoke up, her soul pounding in her chest as every eye snapped back to her, curious and sharp and in some instances disapproving. She swallowed, trying to sound meek and giving as disarming a smile as she could manage while still coming across as strong. "Correct me if I am mistaken, but I was under the impression that a school board is supposed to convene in a manner open to the public. I was under the impression that this would not be a private hearing."

Frederick raised a brow behind his glasses. "Do you object to the meeting?" 

"I object in as much as this was not what I was expecting," Toriel replied with some indigence. And maybe she should have just let it slide, but some deep part of her refused to take any nonsense lying down. It was such shy miscommunication that had been attributed to the War all those many years ago. "Please, do not misunderstand. I appreciate being seen at all, especially given that it is summer and you have all taken time off from your vacations to be here. But you must also understand, I am a monster, and I am accustomed to being shortchanged when it comes to both my rights and my requirements. Though I know that Monster Rights have not yet been fully legalized, I still wish to be treated fairly in every regard.”

"You don't think we are treating you fairly?" Margaret Bennington huffed from the corner. "Tch. Typical. You're treading new ground, of course you would see hostility where there is none.”

Toriel bristled but kept her cool. She turned her head and fixed the woman with a gaze both sincere and piercing. "That is a matter of which I wish to be assured . I know very little about how your educational system works, and though I have been burying myself in research for the better part of a year to try and get an understanding of your proceedings, there is still much I have yet to fully comprehend. And do not mistake caution and efficiency for paranoia. I am not making an accusation, Ms. Bennington. I am merely asking for clarification and an easing of my own anxieties. I wish to understand so that I might better conduct myself accordingly."

It is hard to keep the snarl from her voice, but she thinks she succeeds. It at least shuts the woman up with a huff. Wallace Fredrick, oddly enough, once again seemed rather impressed. 

"It is far more customary for a board meeting to convene with the joint interest and attendance of the general public, yes," he conceded. 

Toriel frowned. "Then why are we sitting here in a back room, just the six of us?" Like they were doing something wrong. 

The broad-shouldered man, Brody Lewis, who looked like he could have gotten into a wrestling match with a bear and won, rolled his eyes in annoyance, but it was Janice Marburrow who spoke up first, her words gentle and soothing. 

"Unfortunately, as this is more of a personal, get-to-know-you session," the aged woman began, "and taking into account the time of year, we determined that we should meet like this before bringing your case to the public. Monster Rights, as you mentioned, are still very much in the works, and given a little time they should help you toward your goal of becoming a teacher immensely." Her face fell slightly. "As things are now, we can do little more than find out all we can about you, so that when the proper opportunity arises, you will have a better chance at reaching your objective." 

Frederick agreed. "Normally we would have convened with a public audience, you are right there. That would generally be the next step under normal circumstances. But...these are far less normal circumstances than we are typically used to dealing with. We are not opposed to the idea, mind you, but there are quite a few complications involved, and if we are to make progress we will have to tread carefully. For today, we would just like to get to know you and ask you some questions. We know you have been studying up on our customs and education systems with vigor, but I'm afraid that this is the best we can do for now. It is but one step in a long but worthy road. I assure you, you will not be...shortchanged, as you put it. I will do what I can to make it possible for your case to be brought to the public in a proper board meeting as soon as it can be." 

He took a breath. "Is that alright with you, Ms. Dreemurr?" 

No. No, it really was not. Toriel knew politics well enough to recognize when people of authority were dragging their feet. But if she pitched a fit here she was more likely to ruin her chances of becoming a teacher at all. The detour in progress was annoying, and discouraging, and frustrating...but she had nothing if not regal patience. She would not be getting what she wanted today, that much was clear. Maybe it had been foolish to hope that she would, but the least she could do was continue moving forward, despite the obvious obstacles that were being stacked in her way. She was flustered and angry, but she held it back for the time being. 

Choking down the sharp words she would have liked to have said, Toriel merely nodded and muttered, "Yes, please continue." 

Apparently satisfied, and the momentary tension at least partially dissipating with Toriel's lenience, Frederick returned his attention to the open folder he was leaning over. 

"Now, you are under no obligation to answer any of these questions if you feel they infringe on your privacy. Just know that we appreciate honesty, and the more we know about you the more likely a candidate you are for a role in our school."

Toriel gave another nod. "I understand."

"Mm." The chairman checked his notes and then steepled his hands on his desk. "If you would, why do you want to become a teacher, Ms. Deemurr?"

That was simple enough. Toriel had even been expecting that inquiry, as she had done some research on common teacher interview questions. The fact that this was not completely uncharted territory loosened the tightness in her chest, and she breathed out a breath and gave a more genuine smile.

"I have always had a great love of children and the tutoring of them. I have always been attracted to the learning of knowledge myself, and truly enjoy actively finding ways to help the next generation find their own balance between education, family, and the things they enjoy. I like to encourage each child to find their own path, while still learning that which they need to live a healthy, safe, and well-informed life."

Quick and sharp, Margret Bennington tacked on a haughty, "Do you have any actual experience with children at all?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Toriel countered, as politely as she could. "My adopted daughter, Frisk, I have been schooling at home for the last three years. I have also, in a manner of speaking, tutored a number of young monster children at the monster encampment." She hesitated a moment, her throat feeling suddenly dry. "I...also had two children of my own, a long time ago, who I also taught myself."

"Did they go on to some form of higher education?" the kinder, older woman asked gently. She could probably already read the answer, Toriel guessed. She knew her face was a canvas for her emotions, but Janice asked regardless, pressing perhaps merely out of concern or genuine worry.

"No...No, I am afraid that they did not. I lost both to a terrible tragedy many years ago."

"...Oh. Oh, I am so sorry..." 

And she truly seemed to be. In fact, they all seemed touched by her loss to some degree, even Ms. Bennington whose brow unfurrowed just a little and whose eyes suddenly lost some of their argumentative nature, at least for the moment. 

Toriel, however, afraid that dark thoughts would only lead her to a further sorrow she could not afford at this time, was quick to move forward. "I appreciate your sympathy, but it was a very, very long time ago. That tragedy does drive me to some extent, however. I have always had a motherly nature, but my love and care for children has only grown since then. It is one of the greatest reasons for which I would like to become a teacher. To, in some manner...give the care I was stripped of the power to give my own dear ones when I lost them."

The chairman frowned sadly. "That is a very noble goal."

"Not entirely," Toriel said hesitantly. "I would be lying if I said there was not also a small part of myself that wants to selfishly live out in the lives of other children. To fulfill that which I never got to fulfill in my own Asriel and Chara." 

The room was sorrowfully quiet, just long enough for Toriel to shake the difficult thoughts from her mind. She took a deep breath and forced her smile back in place. "But that was a very long time ago, as I said. As you can see, it is still something that I struggle to move past, though I am happy to report that it no longer rules over every aspect of my life."

"Mm. Losing a child is very hard," Janice Marrburrow whispered, with only a tone that can come from a mother with her own losses. "Never mind two."

Toriel nodded, gaze locked on the floor. A moment later she looked back up. "I apologize. I was not expecting that question to turn so personal on my part. I did not mean to sidetrack."

Chairman Frederick nodded, looking perhaps even more impressed by her stable recovery. He leaned forward, scritched something on his notes, and then returned to his attentive position.

"No, please. Thank you for opening up with us. I am sure that was not an easy thing to recall. You chose to share, and for that we are very humbled. But now, for your sake, let us move on."

"Yes, please."

"Alright. Ms. Dreemurr, how much would you say is essential when it comes to knowing your students? Is it necessary to know everything about them, or do you feel some form of distancing is a better approach?"

Another familiar question. Toriel would have to thank Alphys for finding those practice interviews later. Toriel nodded thoughtfully. 

"I believe that depends on how much a child or family wishes to inform the teacher. There are certain aspects of an individual that should always be communicated, such as a child's learning style, or whether they have certain need of special attention or services. Naturally, some idea of their home life will be learned over time. I have heard of this...mandated reporter status? To keep an eye out for problems or abuse to be certain that the child is safe?" 

Frederick nodded. "Yes, all teachers working with children under the age of eighteen are designated as mandated reporters, under the Child Abuse and Neglect Laws." He smiled. "You really have done your research."

Pride swelled in Toriel's chest, but she merely tilted her head in thanks. "However, to further answer your question, I believe a teacher should know enough to be able to accurately advise and tutor a child to the best of their ability, while ensuring the child's safety but also giving them the privacy they need and deserve."

"Is there a specific reason you wish to be a teacher within our district?" 

"Well, the bus is currently Monsterkind's only legal form of transportation," Toriel replied with some shame. "Any other district would be too far to commute to. That, and seeing as this is where my family is likely to stay settled, it only makes sense that I should seek out a job here at the local school."

The sound of pen on paper filled the silence before Mr. Frederick turned to Mrs. Marrburrow. The woman took that as her cue to look down at her own notes, before smiling up at Toriel encouragingly. 

"What would you say are some of your greatest strengths and weaknesses when it comes to teaching?" 

That was a new one, but a very fair and logical question. "Mm, strengths and weaknesses...Hm. Well, I suppose some of my greatest strengths would be in the subjects of history, mythology, and language." 

The unpleasant young man, Kevin Mitchell, sat up a little straighter. "What languages do you speak?" 

Toriel considered. "Well, I can both speak and read English, of course. As well as Greek, Latin, and a few common and rare ancient Monster dialects." 

Fredrick blinked. "Latin? That's a dead language here these days. Interesting, but not terribly practical." 

"Not among your people," Toriel was quick to point out. "But I know several Monster species that primarily speak some form of Latin, or some offshoot of the language as a root. Remnants of European influence on Monsterkind before the War. Even after our banishment, certain aspects of human culture stuck with us. I am sure it has evolved a bit over time to something less original, but it is still very prevalent among certain Monster sub-groups." 

"Fascinating," Mrs. Marrburrow breathed. 

Toriel smiled. "Being of royalty, I was required to master as many languages and dialects as I could, as mediating between two or more species was to be expected of my duties later on. Now, you must excuse that I have forgotten those which I have fallen out of practice with, but those three, English, Latin, and Greek, are the ones I still feel I know well enough to teach. I would also like to offer Monster dialects as a teachable subject, seeing as our two races are trying to learn better communication. Most Monsters speak the common tongue, but there are a few sub-species who have not evolved that far linguistically."

The members of the board all nodded, agreeing with her and that made Toriel feel good. There was a warmth and confidence that came with this sort of conversation. A chance to show her worth, state her authority and give account of what good she could bring to the new world before her. These people, they were not so bad. A little suspicious maybe, a little too curious and a little too skeptical at first glance, but not to the point where she could not prove herself. It would take time, and conversation on both sides, but it was looking a lot brighter than it had when she had first walked in. Suddenly the fact that this was just a get-to-know-you meeting made a lot more sense and did not leave Toriel feeling quite as cheated. Margret Bennington, with her penciled in brows still low over her eyes, still looked too judgmental and seething, brooding maybe, but Toriel felt less like an intrusion and more of the prospective teacher she wanted to be. If she had to prove her worth as a prospective faculty member of the school, she would. 

"Now, if you don't mind," Frederick spoke back up, shuffling his papers again like it was an unconscious habit. "We have a few more questions and then a few concerns we would like to discuss. Is that alright?" 

"I do not mind at all," Toriel conceded, and for the first time that day, she meant it. "Please, carry on."

Flowey glowered as he nestled down low in his pot, the soil therein still warm from the sun outside. He narrowed his eyes and grit his teeth, trying to look as miserable as physically possible. He had a list of complaints going on in his head, letting them build up for maximum annoyance. The air conditioning was too cold, he was bored, his stem felt all kinked up from his time in Frisk's backpack pocket. He was already hungry again, and thirsty. He hadn’t asked to be brought along on this stupid family outing, and he especially hadn’t agreed that dragging Sans along wouldl do anyone any good. Flowey was still mad at the skeleton for being such a wuss, for not being able to sleep properly even though Flowey knew deep down that he was partially to blame for that. 

Pfft. Still. It was easier to hate Sans than to hate himself, so Flowey just focused all of anger into a funnel of grumpy aloofness and watched as Frisk set up her stupid board game. 

It’s one of her older games. Something Toriel probably picked up somewhere, or that was given to them by the charity and had been sitting in a closet untouched for months. Regardless, it didn’t look like anything Flowey would want to play, anyway. All nausiatingly bright colors and candy themed characters. Frisk, however, looked delighted as she shuffled a deck of cards and set out four colored figurines.

Frisk sat back with a clap of her hands. “Alright! What piece would you like, Flowey?”

Flowey blinked, surprised, before he gave a growl. “I don’tt want to play your dumb, sissy game!” he spat.

Frisk, as usual, ignores his rudeness and simply shrugs. “Okay, you can be yellow. Like your petals!”

“I said I don’t want to play, stupid!” Flowey hissed.

Sans frowned. “hey, hey. be nice,” he mumbled. He carefully lowered himself to the floor in a cross legged sit.

Flowey sent the skeleton a sharp, heated look, but doesn't feel like carrying on the argument any further. Sans and Frisk know him enough that they can probably see through his aggression, even if Flowey refused to admit that he’d rather play a game than sit and wait while doing nothing. And, besides, Flowey’s tired.

Though not as tired as Sans looked. The bony trashbag looked exhausted, dark shadows under his eyes and movements already getting sluggish, the day already wearing on him. ‘Weak’ Flowey internally hisses. Weakness could be exploited, or, at least, that used to be an option. Flowey doesn't do much exploiting anymore, outside of whining to get his way and manipulation through words for petty revenge. At most Sans's exhaustion would get Flowey an excuse for them all to go home early. 

Flowey doesn't care otherwise. 

Sans reached forward and took up the blue figurine, turning it over in his hands curiously. “you might as well participate, bud. it's better than sittin’ in dirt and twiddling your vines.”

“Ugh, fiiiiiine , whatever, I’ll play your dumb game,” Flowey relented with a roll of his eyes. “But only to get you two to shut up about it. And I want the green piece,” he added, just to be rebellious.

Frisk nodded and switched the yellow figurine out for the green.

Sans chuckled. “what are these supposed to be? gingerbread men?” 

Frisk giggled. “Well, that’s what they look like, but they're supposed to represent the two children in the story. They’re trying to make their way through the candy kingdom to the king. See?” And she pointed to the kingly depiction on the board standing in front of an impressive castle of sweets.

Sans blinks, doubtless seeing the same parallel that Flowey did in that moment. His eyelights shifted slowly from the piece in his hand to the colorful board, his expression thoughtful. And Flowey, for once, couldn’t really blame him. The resemblance to Frisk's own journey through a foreign land to its ruler was startlingly accurate. Frisk, for her own part, either didn’t notice or didn’t care to bring it up. 

“I think we can start now,” Frisk grinned. “Sans, put your piece here at the beginning of the path.” She set her own red piece and Flowey’s there too. 

Sans obliged, and then it was just a matter of deciding who would take the first turn. In the end, Flowey made a big enough stink about it that Sans and Frisk finally just let him go first. And so, they started.

It was a fairly easy game. It didn't even have any dice. just cards, and before too long Flowey found himself at least moderately engaged. He took great pride in beating Sans for the first quarter of the game, and made a great deal about it, teasing Sans mercilessly. It would have been more fun if Sans had actually reacted, the skeleton annoyingly just focusing on his own progress and not taking any of Flowey's bait. However, Flowey’s cruel smugness turned into sour hatred as the skeleton eventually took the lead out of pure dumb luck. Frisk was last, but she didn’t seem to mind, happy just to be playing. 

Finally, when Sans picked up yet another double color block card while Flowey remained stuck on a licoroice space, Flowey whipped out a vine and disrupted the pieces in a flare of rage. It was worth it to see both Sans and Frisk flinch, before both leveled the flower with looks of both annoyance and unsurprise. Served them right for making him join a game he didn't want to play in the first place.

“Flowey,” Frisk admonished, “that was very rude.”

Flowey hunkered down into his pot to sulk. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don’t care. It was a dumb game, anyway.”

“you only say that ‘cause you thought you were gonna lose,” Sans sighed in frustrated response.

“I wouldn’t have been losing if you hadn’t been cheating! ” Flowey yelled. 

Sans shrugged. “you can't cheat at games of chance, buddy.”

Flowey narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, well, you're not supposed to cheat at life, either, but that never stopped you . Or anyone else in this room,” he intoned icily.

That made the waiting room go very quiet. Sans and Frisk both looked down at the disrupted board, neither really seeing it as unpleasant memories probably flooded their minds. Flowey would have taken satisfaction in that, except now he was thinking about stuff he didn’t really want to either. 

After a moment Flowey huffed. “Tch. Dummies. Play your stupid game. I'm done.” He sunk down further into his pot and glowered at the wall. 

Sans sighed and raised his gaze to meet Frisk’s. “you wanna keep playing?”

Frisk gave a weak smile. “Yeah...I think I remember where the pieces were. I’d...I’dlike to finish, if that's okay with you, Sans.”

The skeleton grinned. “sure.” He side eyed Flowey. “you sure you won't finish what you started, weed?”

Frisk frowned at Sans’s tone, but decided not to interfere.

Flowey, for his part, absolutely refused to take any more of his turns. Frisk looked saddened and Sans annoyed, but they continued on without trying to convince him otherwise, Frisk taking over Flowey's turns instead of just kicking him out of the game. So Flowey is again just left there, miserable, too cold, overtired, cranky, and still thirsty. He could have asked for a drink, but he wasn’t really in the mood for relying on others. That, and he didn’t think Sans would get him anything. And making Frisk go felt like letting her get away with comforting him or something dumb like that. At least Flowey knew enough about the game now to continue watching with interest out of the side of his eye. He silently roots for himself, of course, even if the flower tells himself the game was stupid and probably Sans was still cheating. Besides, if Flowey lost he could always flip the board again and make a big deal out of it. That'd be fun at least.

It's not long after Frisk almost catches up to Sans that a Flowey heard the whining creak of one of the school's hallway doors opening and then very slowly swinging shut. For a moment he hoped it was Toriel returning, and that they could all finally go home, get out of that boring place, and give dumb dreams and healing techniques a rest. Or at the very least get something to eat. But it hadn’t been nearly long enough for the meeting to be over, Flowey knew, and the sound came from the opposite direction, toward the school’s front entrance. He could hear another, closer door open and slowly whine shut, punctuated by two sets of footsteps, one sharp and hurried on what sounded like high heels, and the other soft and light and far smaller in stride than the first.

Flowey watched with muted fascination as Sans sat up a bit straighter, obviously also having picked up on distant noise. The skeleton was still feigning that practiced ease he was so stupidly good at, but Flowey knew better. He knew Sans well enough by now, seen him in enough situations over the years and resets, to tell that he was on edge and alert. Sans didn’t much care for interactions with people outside of their little family-not-family homestead from what Flowey had observed. One of many reasons it was a small miracle he had agreed to go into town in the first place. Sans prefered to stick with who and what he already knew, where he probably thought there would be no surprises and he could grasp some semblance of control. 

It was one of the only things Sans and Flowey had in common. 

Sans remained stiff and watchful even as he took his next turn and moved his game piece, skull tilted slightly to the side as he listened to the approaching steps. Frisk didn’t seem to notice, focusing on trying to win against Sans's outrageous luck. And then, so sudden that it actually startled Flowey a little despite him having predicted some sort of appearance, a woman stepped around the corner and came to a halt right in front of the waiting area. Flowey took some comfort in the fact that he wasn't the only one. Sans totally flinched.

The woman was a familiar one, at least to Flowey and Frisk, though Flowey hadn't really taken the time memorizing her name. She was thin but healthy, slender and pretty for a human woman. She was all decked out in a colorful pair of bright blue pedal pushers and a sunshine yellow t-shirt with matching yellow heeled shoes and lemon colored earrings. Her red hair was strikingly vibrant, as was the smile that beamed on her face. It lit up every part of her. 

Flowey inwardly groaned. Great. Another sickeningly positive individual to deal with.

At the woman's side, a tiny hand gripping tight to the woman's own, was a little girl who couldn’t have been much older than four years old. There was no doubt that the woman was her mother, their red hair and clear blue eyes almost identical. 

Frisk looked up in surprise at the new arrivals with a blink, before her face lit up in a dazzling smile. She leapt to her feet, knocking over her own piece and scattering a few cards, and ran into the woman's arms.

“Miss Stacy!” Frisk crowed.

The woman laughed, letting go of her daughter's hand to give Frisk a proper hug. “Well, hello, Frisk! I wasn't sure if Toriel would bring you along today or not, but I had a feeling she might! So tell me, how are you, honey? Are you enjoying the summer?” 

Frisk beamed even brighter. “I’m well, just fine, and yes, very much. Though I’m sort of looking forward to classes again with mom. I like to learn.”

 “That’s wonderful!” the woman smiled. “I look forward to hearing all about it when you do.”

She released her embrace as Frisk moved to back away, the young ambassador then crouching down in front of the four year old. “Hello, Holly! Can I have a hug?”

Frisk opened her arms invitingly, and with no hesitation the little one plopped forward into Frisk's hold with a happy coo. Frisk hugged the child with an appreciative hum and a giggle.

“I think Holly missed you,” the mother translates fondly.

Frisk gave the little girl an extra squeeze. “Aw, I missed you, too.” Holly gave a slight squirm and Frisk let go, leveling her way back into a stand to once again address the adult. “I talked to mom. She says I’m almost old enough to babysit. Maybe by the end of the summer?”

The woman's eyes reflected pure joy at the thought. “Oh, that would be great!” she said wholeheartedly. “Holly would absolutely love it! You’d also have the chance to earn a little money on the side,” she added with a wink. “With Ben away it would be nice to have someone I can call to watch Holly whenever I have to step out. Gran-gran simply hasn’t been up for it.”

“I’m sorry to hear she’s still sick,” Frisk murmured sincerely. “I’ll be glad to help in any way I can.”

“I’m sure you will, dear. That’s because you are a very good and kind-hearted young lady.”

Frisk blushed happily.

The woman's eyes flit to Flowey. “And hello to you, young man. How are you today?” When Flowey merely scowled in response, the woman let loose a musical laugh, leaning over and fake whispering to Frisk. “One of his bad days, I take it?”

Frisk smiled and shrugged with a nod. 

“Well, not all days in life can be good. We’re all entitled to a cranky day every now and then.”

Sans chuckled and muttered lowly, “some just cash it in more than others.”

Crystal blue eyes locked on him almost immediately. Sans tried to balance nonchalance with the tough act of heaving himself up off the floor and onto his feet. Standing, Sans barely reached the woman’s chest in height. Flowey watched the two, noting how Sans pocketed his hands and stood at a slight angle, not quite defensive but certainly still on the alert.

“Oh, hello there, who’s this?” the woman asked with an encouraging smile. 

Frisk grinned. Reaching out, she took hold of Sans's arm and gently pulled him closer. “This is Sans!” she introduced excitedly. “He’s my best friend!” Flowey coughed meaningfully, and Frisk quickly corrected. “Um. He’s one of my best friends!”

The lady's eyes twinkled merrily. She took a few steps forward into the waiting room and offered Sans her hand without so much as a pause. Sans seems slightly surprised by the action, probably more accustomed to people seeing his trashbag face just to scream and run. His eyeslights flitted from the woman's hand then back to her face a few times before a slow, uncertain smile spread across his face. Brushing invisible grime from his hand onto his shorts, he accepted the handshake with one of his own. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sans. My name is Stacy Grenswick. I’m a friend of Toriel’s, a teacher here at Ebott E&M, and sister to the chairman of the school board.” She gave another wink, her playful cheer contagious. 

Sans grinned back shyly. “oh are you on the school board?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Stacy answered. “But I tend to hold some sway over my brother's decisions. Older sibling and all that, you understand.”

Sans chuckled. “Yeah, i guess i do.”

“Mm, yes. That, and knowing what the school board is made up of, I believe any help I can give Toriel might be a plus.” 

She let go of Sans's hand and he returned it to his pocket with a soft frown. “made up of?” he asked.

Stacy waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, you know how it is with any form of rank based system in this day and age. Not everyone on the board will be on Toriel's side. In fact, the only one I know of besides my brother in there that's openly for monster rights is Janice. But, thankfully, there's more to the whole decision of letting Toriel teach than just a few biases. Anyway! I'm really just a mother, wife, and a sister who finds she can be persuasive for the better. Right, Frisk?”

Frisk laughed. “Right!”

“heh. i like you already, lady,” Sans approved with a calmer, more relaxed grin of his own. 

Stacy air pumped. “Yes! Seems I’ve finally won the second half of the skeleton vote for popularity! Whoop whoop!”

“you know my brother?” Then he chuckled once again with a shake of his head. “pfft. of course you do. everyone seems to know pap. he’s, uh, pretty social.”

Stacy nodded. “Yup! He's really quite a charming dear. Holly absolutely adores him. Of course, Holly likes just about everyone, but Papyrus is very good with children. In fact, I'd ask him to babysit Holly, but I fear the two would wind themselves up too much and just end up feeding off each others' chaotic energy!”

“heh, yeah. that’s probably for the best,” Sans agreed, amused.

“Mm!” Stacy gave a contented sigh, eyes taking Sans in once more. “But it really is wonderful to finally meet you. Toriel and Papyrus both speak very highly of you. Though Papyrus says you need to clean your room more often.”

“he told you about that, huh?”

“Every time we talk, deary. But don’t pay him any mind. He’d probably faint if he saw my room at home.” Stacy cocked her head to the side. “You know, you’re a bit shorter than I was expecting.

Sans blushed ever so slightly at that, and Flowey couldn’t resist the opportunity to take a jab at him. He gave a soft, mocking snort of amusement. “You and everyone else.” 

Sans’s flushed glare was more than worth it.

“I’ve seen Papyrus,” Stacy continued, apparently intrigued. “He’s a regular string bean. And tall. I’m also used to Toriel’s impressive height.” She shook her head. “I guess I sort of generalized monsters to some degree. I forget that you all come in many shapes and sizes.”

She looked at Sans with that same fond and motherly adoration that Toriel always did, like she already found Sans adorable. It made Flowey sick, because of course she did. Sans had that annoying ability to make friends more or less on sight, whether he meant to or not, same with Papyrus. Maybe it was a skeleton thing, a mix of charm, wit, and dumb luck. Shame people didn't know the real Sans. The Sans that could literally blast the roof off of a building with a single fire of his scary skull cannons. Who had killed Frisk and Flowey himself on more than one occasion. Sheesh, these idiots had no idea. Flowey could just imagine how fast they'd pale and run should they know the truth. Though that wasn't going to happen. Even if Flowey told them himself no one would believe him. And that was all the more frustrating.

Stacy reached out curiously. “May I?”

And though Flowey was fairly certain Sans had no idea what she was asking of him, Sans held out his hand in turn. “uh, sure…?”

The woman gently reached out and, rather than taking Sans’s hand, squeezed the skeleton’s shoulder. Sans huffed, brow furrowing in confusion as Stacy made her way down his arm to his elbow.

“Hm,” Stacy hummed, pinching the fabric of Sans's t-shirt to better feel the bone beneath. Sans watched passively, but Flowey could see him sweating. 

Frisk seemed to have noticed as well. “Um...Miss Stacy? Sans...doesn’t really like to be-”

Stacy quickly stepped back. “Oh! Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry! I’ve overstepped, haven’t I? I truly apologize. I don’t always think before I speak or act, it’s one of my greatest flaws.”

“nah,” Sans assured, “i’ve seen way worse, trust me. you’re just very open and honest about your thoughts and feelings. there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Mm. You say that, but have you ever had to lie about how good your mother-in-law looks in her too-tight, out of style, cowboy plaid dress on the eve of her fiftieth birthday?”

“can’t say that i have.”

“Then let me tell you, having no filter sucks .”

“i bet.”

“Really, though,” Stacy reiterated, “I truly am sorry.”

“it’s okay.” Sans shrugged. “m’just not big on touch. outside of, ya know, handshakes and stuff.”

“And hugs,” Frisk added, moving to lean against the skeleton’s side.

“and hugs,” Sans parroted dutifully, accepting the side hug willingly. “soooo you a scientist or something?”

“What makes you ask?”

“dunno. just sort of know that look, i guess. that ‘gotta see it, feel it, catalogue it’ kinda way of seeing the world. like everything’s a mystery to be unraveled.”

Stacy smiled ruefully. “You sound like you have experience.”

“eh, i used to dabble in it a bit, once upon a time. now, the most i do is star gaze.”

“A noble and enjoyable pastime.”

“heh. thanks, i think so too.”

Stacy nodded. “You’re really not too far off. I’m a biology teacher. Which is why I was so interested in your...um...structure.” For the first time, Stacy truly blushed. It stood out starkly on her very fair skin. “I think that if monsters are going to become a part of our world, then us humans had best start learning and teaching everything we can about them. About you , sorry. It's a frontier, really. A whole new field to explore, which is why I...may have gotten a bit ahead of myself.”

Sans ruffled Frisk’s hair. “heh, tibia honest, that's a pretty smart idea. smart, an’ kinda humerus , really.” He gave Frisk a wink and the girl giggled with a shake of her head.

Flowey rolled his eyes, while Stacy Grenswick blinked, speechless.

“Did you just-” She smirked. “Ooooh ho, Papyrus warned me about your funny bone. No wonder Toriel considers one of her closest friends. You both share the same sense of humor.”

“Unfortunately,” Flowey grumbled.

“Fisk! Fisk!”

Frisk looked down as Holly playfully tugged at her shirt. The four year old lifted up her arms and bounced on the balls of her feet.

“Up! Up!”

“You want up?” Frisk cooed.

Holly beamed. “Yeees!”

Frisk giggled, reaching down and hoisting the little redhead up onto her hip. Holly clung to her with small, pale fingers, squealing in delight as Frisk gave them both a gentle swirl.

“Heehee! Again! Again!”

Stacy smiled. “See? You’re already babysitting material.” She glanced down the hall. “I assume that Toriel is already in her interview?”

Sans rubbed the back of his neck with a nod. “yeah. she was, uh, pretty nervous.”

“Mm, I can imagine,” Stacy hummed. “They're all a bunch of sour pusses in there. Regular jar of pickles.”

Sans huffed in amusement, then hooked a thumb over at Flowey. “we've got at least one of those out here.”

Flowey stuck out his tongue in response. 

The skeleton repocketed his hands in his shorts, tilting his head in curiosity. “so you gonna go in there and stir things up, or…?”

The motherly woman grinned. “Oh, definitely. Though I have to wait until the official interview is over. As long as things are on record, I’m more or less legally exempt from participating.” She glanced up at the cheap plastic clock hanging on the wall of the waiting room. “I’ll give them another fifteen minutes and then I should be good to storm the castle.”

Sans chuckled. “you're not big on formalities, are ya?”

“Only the ones that are absolutely necessary. Rules can and should be followed up to a point. It's the gray areas that are fun to play around with.”

“that's a highly rebellious motto for someone who teaches kids.”

Stacy winked. “Yes, well, teaching wasn't my first choice in life. My original dream was far more risky.”

“oh? what was that?”

“Politics.”

Flowey had no idea whether she was joking or not, but Sans and Stacy seemed to find the whole thing hysterical, the two of them laughing it out softly before Sans steps further into the waiting room and gestures with his skull.

“you gonna come in and wait it out? we've got a game if the little one wants to play.”

Frisk laughed as she carried a clinging Holly into the alcove. “Sans, Holly’s only four. She can’t play this game, she won’t understand it.”

Stacy followed them all in, sitting with ankles crossed in one of the chairs while Sans retook his seat on the floor.

Sans grinned softly. “nonsense, any kid can play a game. it's just a matter of everybody else playing the same way as the kiddo. right, squirt?”

Holly giggled and reached for Sans, tiny fingers stretching out longingly. When Frisk let her down and released her, the child toddle over and flop against sans's chest, burying herself in the soft fabric of his shirt. Sans seemed surprised, hands hovering with uncertainty over Holly's back. His eyeslitghs flitted to Stacy as though expecting her to protest. When she doesn’t, he relaxes, carefully wrapping his arms around the child and giving her a gentle hug.

“well, hello to you, too,” he chuckled. “you're awfully friendly, huh?”

Stacy dug out her phone, snapping a few quick pictures, not that Sans seemed to notice. “Holly's always been like that. You could say she sees the world through rose-colored glasses.” She smiled warmly. “That, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure she has some sort of super power that makes her able to sense a good heart when she finds one.”

Sans gave a surprised hiccough at the not-so-veiled compliment. “y-yeah?”

Stacy’s eyes sparkled. “Mm! She’s also already met Papyrus, so the whole idea of skeleton monsters is nothing new to her. I’m proud to say my daughter has taken to you monsters quite enthusiastically.”

“heh. i can see that.” 

Sans carefully pried Holly away from his chest, lifting her up so he could turn her around, settling her in his lap so they could both face the board. Holly made no complaint, fitting perfectly in the cradle of the skeleton’s crossed legs. Sans leaned forward and took up his game piece, handing it to the toddler. Holly pulled it from his fingers, studied it, and then, promptly stuck it in her mouth. 

“oop!” Sans said with a laugh. “guess i should have expected that.”

He very gently took the piece back, Holly giving a whine, at least until Sans made her laugh by placing the plastic figurine on Holly's knee, walking it up her leg with clicking sounds of his teeth before she could protest further. The child loved it. Holly let loose a squeal of laughter, so loud it echoed through the hall sharply, causing everyone else in the waiting room to wince.

“pfft, wow. got some lungs on ya, kiddo,” Sans huffed, amused even as he shushed the babe to a less piercing volume. “hope they couldn’t hear that in the interview.”

“Again! Again!” Holly clapped, while Flowey groaned and retreated further into his pot.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s fine. Besides, most everyone in there are used to kids screaming in the halls. I’m sure they weren’t bothered,” Stacy assured. Stacy beams as she watched Sans resume playing with her daughter. “Toriel was right, you really are quite good with children.”

Sans shrugged modestly. “eh, not really. i just understand them, is all. i had to, when papyrus was little. it was just the two of us, so it gave me a lot of practice. i mean, if i didn’t get him, who would?”

Stacy nodded a little more solemnly. “That's right...Papyrus told me you raised him.” A pause, and then much more hesitant she said, “He also said you two are the last of your kind.”

Sans’s smile shrunk a bit, his whole body going still. Holly whined again at his inaction, then tugged at his fingers. That made the skeleton blink, and then he slowly pulled himself back out of whatever dark thoughts his mind might have been going through. He shrugged again, going back to walking the game piece up Holly’s leg and making her laugh.

“so they tell us. guess skeleton monsters kinda died out after the war. not even really sure where me and paps come from.”

“I’m...I’m sorry.”

“don’t be. it’s all okay. life’s been good to us and given us more family than we could ever f imagined.” Sans reached out and mussed up Frisk’s hair once more. She gave him a sad, but fond smile, expression betraying her disagreement that things were as fine as he claimed, but also supporting him as though they were blood and kin. “right, kid?”

Frisk gave a single, firm nod. “Right,” she said with conviction.

Stacy nodded heavily, some of the sparkle leaving her gaze, but she quickly recaptured her cheer and changed the obviously uncomfortable topic.

“I wonder...would you be willing to let me interview you at some point? Not for the media, or anything like that. Just to, well, tell me more about monsterkind in general.”

Sans winked. “you mean on biology?”

“W-Well, just on the basic functions. Nervous systems, digestive track, how you regulate air and such...Which...I assume you do, in some way? I’ve seem Papyrus eat.”

“sure, we can get together sometime and do that if you want,” Sans agreed. “just keep your questions rated g, an’ we’re good,” he joked.

Stacy smiled, understanding. “Of course. And not today, naturally. We all have enough on our minds for the time being. I’ll arrange a time and place we can do it another day.”

“sounds good.”

“Do you have a phone?”

“yup.”

“May I have your number so I can text you?”

“sure. you’ll have to ask tori for it, though.”

“...You don’t know your own number?”

Sans shrugged with a helpless smirk. “i don’t call myself, lady.”

Stacy laughed, pocketing her phone again. “Fair enough. I’ll ask Toriel in a bit, then.”

“okey-dokey.”

Sans adjusted Holly more comfortably in his lap. “hey, frisk, you wanna try and finish this game? holly's on my team.” He tickled Holly in her side and she squealed again, thankfully not as loud as before. It morphed into happy giggles, the child tilting her head back against Sans's chest so she could look up at him with large, blue eyes.

Flowey humphed and sunk even lower in his pot. He was still cranky, cold, and thirsty...but at least he had more to keep his attention. Boredom, at least for the time being, would be kept at bay.

Toriel could not help but think that the meeting was not going too badly, even if it had not turned out quite the way she had hoped. Yes the board seems a bit stiff, and not all their questions were strictly unbiased, but compared to what she had been fearing it was really not too disastrous.

Mrs. Marrburrow seemed to be her biggest supporter, with Ms. Bennington taking a very obvious opposing stand. The others were more or less suspended somewhere in between. Honestly, Toriel might have given it all up for loss if not for Janice Marrburrow and Wallace Frederick's occasional smiles and words of encouragement or affirmation. Perhaps not cheers exactly, but at least she had someone in the room that did not make her feel like they were all flat out against her.

After what felt like an eternity, but also distressingly short a time, the chairman gave a deciding nod of his head and glanced at his watch on his wrist. He then started shuffling his notes and papers again, this time in a way that told Toriel that he was about to bring their meeting to a close even before he opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m afraid that is all the time we have for today,” Frederick apologized. “But thank you, Ms. Dreemurr, for coming all the way out here on a Saturday. I will be in contact with you, and we can start taking steps toward our next phase.”

Toriel noted he made no effort to suggest what that next phase might be, but decided against making more of a fuss than she already had. She tilted her head in gracious gratitude. “Thank you, all of you, for being willing to meet with me during your time off. It is very much appreciated, and I look forward to further meetings in the future.”

That last bit she said quite firmly, making sure that all present knew this was far from over. She had played their games for now, but she would not be stopped. To those in the room who looked less than pleased she hoped she had made her point.

Frederick gave a nod and looked to the others in the room. “Thank you all for your attendance. This subject will be further explored at a later date. Meeting adjourned.”

Immediately the room was filled with movement. Frederick starting to put his folder back together; Mr. Lewis getting up and stretching before he made an immediate beeline for the door, leaving without a word. Ms. Bennington got up to move over to Frederick's desk, where he looked up at her like he expected to be beaten. The two dissolved into a hushed, tense conversation, of which Toriel could make out nothing of.

The Boss Monster sighed deeply, remaining in her seat and feeling all at once very removed from everyone else in the room. Like she had been closed off and dismissed just as easily as the meeting had been. It was not a pleasant feeling. Her uneasiness was expounded further by Kevin Mitchell's eyes still leering at her from the corner. It left Toriel feeling extremely out of place, unsure of what she was supposed to do now. Should she stay? Should she leave?, Should she--

Toriel is saved from further turmoil by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up with a small jolt and found herself staring up into the gentle, smiling face of Janice Marrburrow. 

“Hello,” Janice greeted Toriel warmly. “Oh, I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t startle you, dear.”

Toriel felt a warm flicker of gratitude bloom in her chest. “No, no, that is quite alright. I wanted to thank you personally for your kindness and encouragement. I truly appreciated it.”

Janice practically glowed. She pulled her chair a bit closer so that she could sit and talk. “Aw, of course, dear. Everyone needs someone on their side. But tell me, honey, how are you and your family been acclimating to life here on the surface?”

“Oh,” Toriel blinks in surprise, touched. Most humans did not even think to ask. “Quite well, actually. There are still some rough patches here and there, things to get used to and such. But overall I would say we are all doing very well.”

Janice folded her hands in her lap. “I’m so very glad to hear that. As I said earlier, that's beautiful countryside out that way. I lived there for a time, when I was younger, and I always loved the calm, lush forests and fields.”

Toriel nodded in agreement. “It is quite lovely. You no longer live there?”

“Oh, no, I’m sad to say. I live downtown, close to the city center where I can grab the bus more easily. We don't own a car, you see.”

“Ah,” Toriel smiled. “I understand that very well.” She caught sight of the ring on Janice's finger, remembering what that meant to most humans. “I noticed you said, ‘we’. Are you married?”

Pride bloomed on the older woman’s face. “Yes, I am! Though my dear Roy has a weak constitution and so lives at home most of the time, while I work to provide for us both.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that.”

Janice laughed. “Don’t be, dear, we are very happy. I’ve been the school board's secretary for some time and have held that position happily. The Lord has granted me fine health, and Roy’s been doing pretty well as of late. I call that a marvelous win.”  Janice leaned forward a bit. “Now. How do you feel the meeting went, hon?”

Toriel blinked, caught off guard. “O-Oh, I…I suppose it went all right.” Then, feeling like she could be honest with Janice, Toriel added, “It did not really go the way I imagined it would, but all in all I think it could have gone far worse.”

“Mm,” Janice nodded in sympathy. “Things of this nature do tend to take a very long time to get moving. It can seem at times that everything is against you.” Janice reached out a hand and patted Toriel's knee. “But don't you give up, deary. You're paving the way for other monsters to reach their dreams. No one said the journey was easy, and it may take time, but you'll make it. You just need to stay--”

“Determined,” Toriel finished with an appreciative smile. She had to fight back moisture from gathering in her eyes. Toriel softly lay a palm on the old woman's hand on her leg. “Thank you. With all the sincerity in my soul, thank you. That means a lot to me.”

Janice smiled and gave a nod in answer. “Of course, hon. Any time.”

“Mrs. Marrburrow? If you would, please?”

Janice retracted her hand slowly as Toriel looked up at Frederick’s call of her name. “Excuse me, dear.”

“Of course. Thank you, again for your words.”

“You are very welcome.”

Toriel watched as Janice Marrburrow made her way up and over to where Frederick and Ms. Bennington were still talking in whispered voices. Toriel felt rejuvenated by the solid friend she now knew she had in the room, and felt far less alienated. A movement to Toriel's left, however, made Toriel jump.

Seated in the chair that Janice had just vacated, sat Stacy Grenswick.

“Stars!” Toriel breathed, a hand over her chest as her soul pulsed tight in her core. She blinked several times before she chided in a hushed tone. “Stacy, what are you doing here?”

Stacy beamed, filled with energy and positivity as always. “I came down to check in on you, of course! You think I'd let my best ladyfriend go into the lion’s den without cheering her when she came out victorious?”

Toriel gave a soft snort of amusement. “I do not know about ‘victorious’, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same.” Toriel smiled. “And how are you, my friend?”

“Oh, I’m quite well, thank you,” Stacy assured cheerily. “I’ve been worrying about you, naturally, but you seem to have things well in hand. Janice seems to like you, though that's really no surprise. She's one of those patient, kind-hearted types. She’ll bake you a pie and invite you to church faster than you can say the Lord’s prayer.”

Toriel chuckled. “She is very nice. She called me all sorts of kind things. Very motherly.”

Stacy snorted a stifled laugh. “Does she know you’re, like, hundreds of human years old?”

Toriel grinned. “I imagine not.”

Stacy laughed, highly entertained. “Janice is everyone’s surrogate mother. It’s, like, a right of passage in the school to be taken under her wing.”

“I shall consider it an honor then,” Toriel decided.

“It really is,” Stacy agreed. Then she sat up ram-rod straight, her entire demeanor going from friendly and open to tense and defensive. She raised her voice, startling Toriel terribly. “Oi! Kevin! Take a picture, why don’t you? It lasts longer!”

Toriel turned quickly to find that Kevin Mitchell was still eyeing her from his seat. At Stacy’s call out, however, the man actually managed to look rather affronted. He blinked before giving a huff and standing to his feet, then walked over to what appeared to be a coffee machine in the corner by a potted plant.

Turning back to Stacy, Toriel found the redhead rolling her eyes.

“Kevin can be a real creep, sometimes,” she growled in a low voice. “I have no idea how he ended up on the school board in the first place.”

Toriel frowned. “Is he an unsavory individual?”

“If what you mean by that is, like, is he criminal or a sex offender or something, nah. He's harmless, in his own way. Could use getting taken down a peg or two, sure, but he does his job and does it well. Even if half the time I'd like to slap that smug smile off his dumb face.”

Toriel holds back a smile.

Stacy continued. “Kevin sees monsterkind as a means of broadening the school's enrollment, as well as bringing in better school funding. In other words, he's in it for the money.”

Toriel nodded in understanding. She knows the type.

Stacy sighed. “Anyway, enough about him. I just met your cute, punny, little boyfriend.”

Toriel choked on nothing. “Wh-Wha--”

Stacy laughed, giving Toriel a comradable pat on the shoulder. “Pffft! Your face, oh my gosh! You should have seen your face! Bwhaha!”

Toriel turned very pink, grateful to her fur for hiding the intense blush that doubtless covered her from toes to ear tips. “Stacy, please ,” she murmured.

Stacy chortled, wiping away a tear of mirth. “I-I know, I know. Sorry, I--huh! I couldn’t help myself.”

“Sans is not my boyfriend,” Toriel insisted sternly, though the effect was lost when she could not help a small smile, herself. “I am a good deal older than him. That would be like Mr. Mitchell...what’s the term? ‘Making a pass at’ your four year old daughter.”

“Oh, hell , no!” Stacy gasped, still laughing. She was shamelessly calling attention to herself, the other people in the room sending concerned or disapproving stares in her direction. But Stacy had never been one to care about appearances.

“Sans is barely a century out of stripes,” Toriel continued. “I’m old enough to be his mother.”

“Oh, my god, that’s adorable ,” Stacy bubbled.

“Oooh, youuu .” Toriel made a gentle, playful swipe at Stacy, the human giggling like a child after too many sweets. After a few light bats, Toriel relented, a smile now firmly fixed on her muzzle. “Sans and I are very close friends. He assisted me during one of the darkest periods of my life. He has a very kind and patient soul. I am glad you both got to make each other's acquaintance.”

Stacy nodded, the last of her laugher fading into a pleased calm. “He's a sweetheart. Holly absolutely adores him.”

“Oh, you brought your daughter along?”

“Oh, yes!” Stacy professed. “You should have seen her when I tried to come in here. She insisted on continuing to play with Sans and Frisk. I finally gave in and let them watch her. She was so happy.”

Toriel smiled wider.  “Ah, yes. Sans has shown himself to be quite good with children on more than one occasion.” 

“He’s an absolute darling,” Stacy repeated. Her smile dropped, however. “Toriel? Is he, by any chance, ill?”

Toriel stiffened, bristling with protective instinct despite herself. “...What do you mean?”

Stacy shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know. He just seems...very tired. And he’s so much smaller than Papyrus…”

Toriel let out a small sigh of relief. “No, no, I assure you he is not ill. He just does not have much energy, and tires very quickly. Frisk has convinced us all that Sans needs to get out and about more often. That is why he is here today. Though it was well understood by us all, Sans included, that an outing would more than likely make him very weary as the day progressed.”

Stacy nodded, slowly and thoughtfully. “Well, perhaps it's good for him to get out and about, then. He’s lucky to have such a wonderful family looking out for him.”

“And friends,” Toriel added with a gentle nudge.

“And friends,” Stacy agreed with a wink. Then she slapped her own leg and started to stand. “Well, then! You want to blow this popsicle stand and go get a cup of coffee or something?”

“Oh, Stacy, dear, that would be lovely,” Toriel answered gratefully, “but I am afraid that Frisk, Sans, Flowey and I are planning to meet up with the others for lunch.”

Stacy doesn’t miss a beat. “No worries! Another time, then. I’ll take you to my favorite coffee shop. I tell you, the lattes are to die for.”

Toriel stood to her feet as well. “I am sure they are. Yes, we will have to do so sometime soon.”

Stacy crossed her arms, standing in such a way that most of her slight weight rested on one hip. “So what are you still here for? If you got a lunch date with the fam, you’re not gonna want to hang around here for much longer.”

Toriel nodded toward Janice, Ms Bennington, and Mr. Frederick. “I feel I should stay a bit longer. See if Mr. Frederick has anything more he wishes to say to me before I go.”

Stacy huffs. “Wally? Pfft, my brother's an old stick in the mud. He won't come over here, not when he’s got Mrs. Bennington leaning over him like a vulture flying over a retirement home.”

Without further word, Stacy took Toriel's hand, pulling herl over toward the others. Toriel mentally dragged her feet, that not being what she had meant, but at the same time it was nice to have Stacy there to get things rolling. A bit brash, maybe, but her courage was contagious, if not a bit inappropriate. 

Stacy pulled Toriel right up to Mr. Frederick’s desk. All talk there ceased, confirming what Toriel already knew; that they had been talking about her. Janice gave them both a warm smile, while Frederick raised his brows questioningly. Ms. - or, rather, Mrs . as Stacy had now confirmed -  Bennington just scowled sourly.

“Heya, Wally,” Stacy barged in. “What's cooking?”

Wallace Frederick winced. “Stacy,” he greeted his sister, somewhat reluctantly. Then his eyes turned to Toriel.

Toriel dipped her head in a formal way, quick to say her piece before Stacy said anything to sway the man’s mood. “I am afraid I have someplace I am expected to be, but I wanted to thank you once again for the meeting today, and for your help in this matter.”

Frederick looked mildly surprised and pleased. “Of course, Ms. Dreemurrl. Again, thank you for coming. I will contact you before too long with information on the next steps in the process.”

Toriel nodded. “Thank you.”

Frederick nodded in turn.

Toriel turned her gaze to Janice. “It was nice to meet you, Janice.” To the stouter woman, she said as evenly as she could manage, “You, as well, Mrs.Bennington.”

The portly woman merely squinted her eyes and gave a haughty huff. 

Toriel tried not to let it phase her. She sent a less than impressed glance toward the coffee machine. Kevin was still there, pouring an unseemly amount of sugar into his cup before he headed for the door, on his way out.

 “It was also a...pleasure...to meet you, Mr. Mitchell,” Toriel called.

He paused by the door, gave one final smirk and a nod, and left. A resounding ‘ good riddance’ hovered guiltily in the back of Toriel’s mind.

And with that, and a final farewell to Mr. Frederick, Toriel and Stacy took their leave, Stacy grinning like a Cheshire Cat and Toriel feeling a great weight lifting from her shoulders.

As they enter into the hall, shutting the meeting room door behind them, Stacy wastes no time in asking, “So, how do you think it went?”

“Hm, perhaps not as well as I had hoped,” Toriel admitted, “but not...terrible. A mix of hope and uncertainty, I suppose.”

Stacy nodded. “You'll get there, Toriel,” she said encouragingly.

Toriel smiled. “Thank you, my friend.” And with surprise she realized she had to hold back tears from forming in her eyes. “No words can express what your support means, not just to me, but to all my people.”

Stacy gave a firm nod, seemingly on the edge of emotion herself, and they continued on back toward the little alcove where their prospective families were waiting.

Frisk stifled a laugh behind her hand, eyes bright and smile wide. 

She had forgotten after so long that Sans was so good with children. Yes, Frisk was technically a child herself, and Sans had always been good with her, even when he was dealing with the confusion of the resets. With Chara. He'd always been patient, and understanding, and honest, and could say things in a way that was easy for kids to understand. Frisk had forgotten how effortlessly he accomplished communication with the young, but now she saw that warmth in Sans rise to the surface once again, a little rusty after so long at home alone, but honestly the most adorable thing Frisk had ever seen.

Holly loved Sans. She'd loved Papyrus, too, but Papyrus was always moving, always talking, always squirming around like an energetic child himself. Sans was calm, and quiet, and still. He let Holly explore the bones of his hands and fingers and wrists and knees. He let her sit in his lap and tilt her head back against his sternum. Holly giggled at his quiet noises, squealed whenever he tickled her side or booped her nose, and listened intently whenever Sans spoke in his lower, soothing tone.

They'd given up on playing Candyland a long time ago. Long before Stacy had even left to go keep Mom company after they'd seen a man leave, signaling that it was safe for Stacy to go interfere. Holly hadn't wanted to go, clinging to Sans and pouting until Stacy had finally laughed and let the toddler stay with them. The look on Sans's face had been...well, if Frisk had to put a name to it she might say surprised. He’d blinked, confused, before he'd looked down at Holly with a gentle smile, like he was shocked and awed to be allowed to keep her without Stacy there to supervise. It filled Frisk with a twinge of sadness, that Sans thought even someone as nice as Stacy would have problems about leaving her child with a monster. But they would fix that someday. Frisk would help fix that, as she got older, and as she could do more and more ambassador work herself. She'd get monsters their rights and things would change. They had to. For all their sake.

“Wha's dat?”

Frisk blinked out of her thoughts, eyes refocusing on the scene before her. Holly had turned around in Sans's lap at some point, tucked up small in the cradle of the skeleton's crossed legs. Sans had pulled out from his t-shirt the thin chain necklace with his TIN card, to let Holly play with it as it hung over his chest. She couldn't hurt it, of course, it was made of layers of laminated plastic and polyvinyl chloride acetate - or at least that's what Alphys had told Frisk. Basically it was made of the same stuff credit cards were made of, and Frisk knew for a fact those things were tough .

Holly's small, nimble fingers would do nothing to hurt it. But the card, it turned out, was not what the little one was asking about. While the TIN ID had proven itself to be a perfect distraction from the boring confines of the waiting room, what it had also done, hanging there in front of Sans's chest, was direct Holly's curious eyes to something else. 

The glow of Sans's soul.

Skeleton monsters were different from most other monsters, Frisk had learned. Not just in appearance and biology, but also in matters of their souls. As far as Frisk understood, most monsters had souls that could be summoned into existence and dismissed out of sight at will. She wasn't sure if the souls resided deep within their bodies or simply ceased to exist on a physical plane, but what Frisk did know, for certain, was that skeleton monsters couldn't do that. Their souls were always in a state of existence, protected only by their ribs, which explained why she'd never seen either Papyrus or Sans without a shirt. Souls were private. Not unseemly; it wasn't like walking in on them naked, but it was a breach of decency to view a soul without consent. And when one's soul was ALWAYS visible, it took an extra mile of caution to keep them hidden and safe. It also meant that the glow of a skeleton monster’s soul could be spotted through fabric, particularly when said monster’s emotions had been stirred up in some way.

Sans wasn't one to glow his soul often, so it had been Papyrus that Frisk had learned most of that from. Souls tended to glow brighter when monsters were particularly happy, or irritated, or excited; whenever they were feeling something strongly. 

And right now, for perhaps the first time in a very long time, Frisk could see Sans's soul brightly outlined beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, clear as the sun. 

Holly cocked her head, poking a finger against Sans's shirt and asking again, “Wha's dat? Gwows?”

Sans looked down at his chest and blinked, seemingly surprised himself, before he smiled. “that’s my soul.”

Holly frowned, blinking up at him. “Souw?”

Sans chuckled. “yeah. it glows sometimes. it means i'm happy.”

Holly seemed to like that, giving a grin and a happy coo, before her little hands went for the hem of Sans's shirt. Frisk flinched almost as hard as Sans did, her breath catching in her throat as Sans's hands automatically locked around Holly's wrists, his sockets wide and shoulders suddenly trembling. Holly didn't seem to mind, so he hadn't grabbed her too tightly at least, but in the moment of quiet that followed she gave a whine at being restricted and tried to pull away. Sans blinked, and Frisk breathed as the skeleton slowly released Holly's hands. He was still shaking a little, Frisk could see it even from where she sat, but he was with them. He hadn't been lost to any bad memories, but it had been close.

Sans plastered on a shaky smile and gave a forced chuckle. “h-heh. sorry about that, squirt. but, uh, souls ain’t for touching.” He took another, careful breath. “or lookin’ at.”

Sins not her own crawled on Frisk’s back, and she found she had to look away.

Holly, however, was already back to staring at the glow - notably less bright than before - through Sans's shirt. “Pwetty.”

“u-uh, heh...thanks?” Sans smiled gently, calming down. “you’re actually the first to tell me that. huh. out of the mouth of babes.” And he shook his head, amused. 

Holly tilted her head, then peered down at her own chest. “Wh’s mine?” 

“where’s yours?”

“Yah!”

Sans grinned, posture finally relaxed again. He reached out and hovered a finger just over Holly’s sternum, though he didn’t touch her.. “s’right in here.” At her confused expression, he laughed. “you can’t see it, but it’s there. i sort of have this super power, i guess. i can see souls even if no one else can.”

Holly frowned and covered her chest, wiggling a finger at him. “Na peeking,” she chided solemnly. “Is na nice.”

Sans released a soft burst of air in laughter. “don't worry, kiddo. all i can see is the glow and color. like a fuzziness.”

To which Frisk couldn’t help but speak up and ask, “What color is it?”

Sans looked up and met her gaze, almost like he’d forgotten she was there. Then he looked back down at Holly and smiled. “green.”

“Kindness,” Frisk breathed in awe. Kindness had always been one of her favorites, outside of her own vibrant red.

Sans nodded. “just like her mother.”

Holly giggled again and tilted forward to hug Sans. The skeleton eagerly hugged her back, giving her a light squeeze and resting the chin of his skull against her red haired top. He shrugged when he met Frisk's sparkling eyes again, looking helplessly fond. Frisk's heart practically melted.

It was then that they heard the sound of the door down the hall opening, light paced footfalls echoing down the corridor, and shortly after a man walked by with a coffee in his hand. He gave them a glance, moderately interested, his eyes lingering on Sans a bit longer than Frisk would have liked, but he was gone on his way a moment later. Shortly after they could hear the door down the hall open again, and this time Toriel and Stacy's voices were very clearly heard in the echoey space.

Sans grinned, lifting Holly up onto her feet before rising with a grunt himself. “sounds like the ladies are back.”

“About time,” Flowey complained. 

He'd actually been pretty quiet the last twenty minutes or so, ever since Stacy and Holly had shown up. He was probably still sulking over the game being disrupted, despite him claiming he hadn’t cared about it to begin with. Now he hung wilty in his flower pot, glowering out at them. Frisk took note of how his leaves and petals looked a bit pasty, and determined that she'd get him some water at the next opportunity. 

Toriel and Stacy came into the alcove, close and comradable, with smiles on their faces, even if Mom did look a little tired and weary. Holly squealed in delight and ran over into Stacy's arms. The woman greeted her child with a kiss and a hug before settling Holly on her hip, bouncing her a few times like a sack of giggling potatoes.

“Did you have fun with Frisk, Flowey, and Mr. Sans?”

Holly squinched her eyes into happy slits, throwing her hands up in the air. “Yah yah!” Then she pointed at her chest proudly, proclaiming for all to hear. “I gween! I gween, mama!”

Stacy laughed, but was understandably confused. “Green?”

Sans winced apologetically. “uh...her soul. it's green, that's what she means. a kindness trait.”

Stacy’s confusion morphed into a delighted expression, greatly interested.  “Oh! Oh, yes, I've been reading up on souls since you all arrived! Fascinating subject. Soul traits and such. I’m afraid there isn't much research available on it yet, so you’ll have to excuse my lack of true understanding. It’s another thing that I will have to study to better grasp the complexities of monster culture. Souls, though, they’re the...culmination of your being? Do I remember that right?”

Toriel smiled. “Yes, something like that, indeed.” She nodded to Sans. “Sans has a unique...gift. He can see souls without them being summoned. So you need not worry about him having looked at Holly’s soul directly.”

“i-i wouldn’t have,” Sans was quick to assure. He shifted uncomfortably.

Toriel, always observant, noticed and quickly apologized. “Oh, Sans, dear, I did not mean to insinuate that you would--”

Sans chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “nah, it's okay, t. i know you didn’t mean nothin’ by it. heh. i'm just not used to...talking about all that stuff.”

“I understand, my friend. I should have asked your permission before divulging that information.”

“eh, forgetaboutit,” Sans grinned with a lazy but kind shrug.

“Well, regardless, thank you very much for watching my daughter, all three of you,” Stacy praised. She turned to Holly. “And now you have a new friend, right, sweetie? Do you like Mr. Sans?”

Holly giggled and nodded.

Sans winked. “‘course she does. me an’ holl are best buds, right kiddo?”

“Yyyyyes!” Holly crowed, and they all laughed. 

Everyone except for one, of course.

“Okay, okay, can we go now?” Flowey growled. “Or are we all going to stand here until we starve to death???”

“Flowey,” Toriel warns sternly, but Stacy, thankfully, isn't offended in the least. She glanced down at her watch, clicking her tongue at the time.

“He's right. If I'm not mistaken, you're all expected someplace for lunch, yeah? Here!” She set Holly down and took her hand in hers. “Holly and I will walk you out of the school.” 

And so, they gathered up their things and headed out, Frisk stopping by a water fountain to give Flowey a drink on the way. They traversed the halls of the school once more, a group of cheerily talking friends, and a grumpy, talking flower. When they made it out the front entrance, the summer heat was like a physical wall, the sun hot and intensely bright. The air buzzed with the sounds of city life, and compared to the quiet of the school building it was almost deafening. The monsters and humans alike winced and squinted their eyes, blinking to get their eyes adjusted, while trying to talk over the noise of some nearby construction.

“Well!” Stacy said with a grin, her red hair flapping in the warm breeze. She turned and gave Toriel a one-armed hug, Toriel happily returning the gesture. Stacy pulled back. “Like I said, you and I are getting a coffee one of these days, my treat!”

Toriel nodded back, and Stacy turned to Frisk to give her a hug too. Frisk latched on and laughed while Flowey grumbled in the pocket of her backpack. 

“You keep cool, now, and be good for your mom, okay? She had a busy day and deserves some pampering.” And she gave Toriel a thumbs up.

“Okay!” Frisk assured her. 

Lastly, Stacy turned to Sans. She doesn't go in for a hug, and for that Frisk was grateful. Holly, however, had no such restraint. The four year old leapt forward and wrapped her arms around Sans's waist and buried her face into where his stomach would have been if he were human. Sans released a soft ‘oof’, before he chuckled and ruffled Holly’s bright red hair. Then he gently pulled her away from him enough that he could take a knee in front of her.

“you be good, holl. okey?” He touched a phalange tip to the little one’s button nose. “boop.”

 She beamed at him. “Okee!”

Sans smiled. “good girl.” He stood up and accepted Stacy's offered hand. 

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Sans,” Stacy said warmly. “We hope to see you around more from now on.”

“eh, heh.” Sans sent Toriel and Frisk a sideways glance and a crooked smile. “seems i won't have much of a choice, seeing as it's for my own good and all.” He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “plus i've got motivation to come see some friends. honestly, sounds good to me.”

Stacy grinned back, retaking Holly's hand in hers. “Then, we’ll see ya around. Enjoy your lunch!”

“We will! Goodbye!” Toriel called back, waving. 

And so they parted ways at the bottom of the school steps, the Grenswicks heading toward the parking lot while Frisk and her family headed toward the main road, where they had arrived earlier that morning. The streets were busier now, teaming with afternoon life as folks made their way to and from their lunch breaks. After so much time alone in an air conditioned school waiting room, the dunk into civilization was actually kind of a relief. Frisk walked proudly alongside her found family, a smile on her face and a warmth in her soul, the child ambassador leading the way.

Behind her, Sans looked up at Toriel and smiled shyly. “so. how'd it go?” 

Toriel sighed. She enjoyed the warm, pleasant breeze that ruffled through her fur, though there was the slightest hint of the scent of rain in the air despite not a cloud in the sky. It felt good, though they’d probably all be complaining of the heat shortly enough. Toriel looked down at Sans and considered her words.

“It did not go...poorly,” she said carefully. “It did not turn out to be quite like I hoped, but it is another step forward.” 

Sans hummed with a nod. He gave her a weak thumbs up. “that’a girl, t.”

“Pfft,” and Toriel gave him a gentle nudge as they walked. “And what of you, my friend? You seemed to get along quite nicely with Stacy and Holly.”

Sans shrugged. “they were nice people. good hearts. good souls. no reason not to like them.” 

Frisk paused in her walk long enough for her mom and Sans to catch up, slipping her hand into Sans’s before continuing, skipping. Flowey grumbled and complained with every hop.

“Holly and you were so cute together,” Frisk teased gently. 

Sans chuckled. “don’t know about me, but the kid was pretty cute for sure.”

Flowey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Real charmer, whatever. Are we going to EAT now?! ”

Toriel huffed a sigh. “Yes, Flowey. We are.” Reaching into her purse she took out her flip phone. Another one of Alphys’ upgraded devices, though much more simple for Toriel's less technical needs, per Toriel's request. Toriel noded down the sidewalk as they joined an even busier street. They paused at the corner as she busily scrolled through her contacts. “The fast food restaurant is about three blocks down from here. Close enough to walk to...though Sans, dear, I suggest we take our time so you do not overdo.”

Sans waved a hand dismissively. “i'll be fine. i’ve been sitting for a while, and a stretch of these legs will do me good.”

Toriel paused to look at him, but Sans merely grinned back. “...Alright, very well. But do please speak up if you need to rest, alright?”

“you got it, t.” 

Toriel found who she had been looking for on her phone and selected Alphys’ cell number, holding the phone up to her ear as she took Frisk's hand and started across the crosswalk. Frisk automatically reached out for Sans's hand, and to her relief he latched on, grip gentle but definitely firm. Like he didn’t want to be left behind. Maybe the crowded sidewalk was getting to him more than he was letting on. Still, he smiled, and once they made it across the street they started weaving in and out of the crowd once more.

 Over the roar of a passing motorcycle Toriel said that she was calling ahead to let the others know they were on their way. 

Frisk was glad. 

She was getting pretty hungry.

Chapter Text

Alphys wasn't terribly fond of the city. It was loud and boisterous, and you never knew if someone was going to greet you with a smile or growl in hatred at your general location. The former was more common, the latter less so, but still it did nothing to help Alphys’ anxiety.

It had been a fairly mundane day at the institute, she and Asgore having gone in despite it being the weekend. Days off were pretty sporadic at this point, though both made sure to take at least one day off a week, and that was usually Sunday - a generally human practice that was really quite nice in Alphys’ opinion. She'd sorted a lot of paperwork, and answered a few emails, nothing special or particularly important. Just cleaning up and tying up loose ends from the week before. Her work in the Cultural Exchange Program was invaluable to the integration of monsters into the human world, while also supplying the humans with information on monster culture and customs. It was...a lot of research. But she had a good team, a pleasant mix of humans and monsters, and she had her own office that was quiet and enclosed and felt safe and calm where she could work undisturbed. Even then it could all get to be rather stressful at times, all those people looking to her for direction and answers. It was an honor and a burden all rolled into one.

For neither the first nor last time, Alphys had thought of Sans, some old, old memory telling her that he would make a fairly good assistant, but...she couldn't ask that of him just yet. Maybe soon, especially if he was serious about being more active. It was something to consider at the very least, and if he did decide to come work at the institute, Alphys knew he was more than capable of helping her carry the workload.

Alphys sighed as she plopped her finished paperwork in her desk drawer, closing it firmly and locking it with a key before putting said key in her purse. While most of the research she did was common knowledge, much of it was also rather personal to several monsters, and it was her duty to keep that information from getting into the wrong hands. Alphys turned off the light in her office and closed the door, locking that as well. It had a key card, which she also put in her purse.

Her stubby heeled shoes clicked as she started out of the office area, fidgeting with the things in her shoulder bag as she zipped it up, wanting to be sure she left nothing behind. She passed the receptionist desk, hurrying as she noticed the time. She'd gotten caught up in her work again. Asgore was probably waiting for her down by the fountain.

“Sorry, Sharon!” Alphys called over her shoulder as she scurried by the receptionist. “I-I have to go, I’m late for a luncheon.”

The receptionist, Sharon, was a sleek furred monster with large eyes and a kind disposition. She stands as Alphys hurries by, nearly upsetting her own stack of paperwork as she stumbles out from behind her desk. 

“Wait! Doctor Alphys!”

Alphys halted, anxious but never rude enough to walk out on someone who was trying to talk to her. “Y-Yes?”

Sharon gave her an appreciative smile. “I just thought you might like to know, the British University of Mythology and History called again. They received your request for an expert in mythology and ancient texts.”

Alphys blinked, momentarily forgetting her haste. “O-Oh! That's wonderful! Will they b-be able to send us someone?”

Sharon nodded, just as excited. “Yes! A Mr. Calvin G. Horberne! From what I hear, he's one of the best. Even wrote a few books himself, and is a professor at the university!”

Alphys very nearly clapped her hands like a child. “Oh my gosh! That's g-great! When is he due to arrive?”

“Actually, I was informed he left this morning. He should be arriving in Ebott sometime tomorrow.”

Alphys paled. “T-Tomorrow?! So soon? W-we haven't even made arrangements for him t-to stay in a hotel or o-or--!” 

Sharon gently took Alphys hands in hers, giving them a squeeze “Don't worry, I've taken care of everything. I thought you might have a lot on your plate, so I used some of the office's funds to arrange a room at the nearest hotel. He'll be well looked after there, and I sent word to him by text where he can find or contact any of us here at the institute.”

Alphys practically melted in relief. She squeezed Sharon's hands in turn gratefully. “Oh, Sharon, you’re a lifesaver!” Alphys breathed. 

Sharon smiled. “Just trying to help out.”

Alphys nodded and started talking to herself in a frantic mumble. “He'll be coming in by tomorrow. Mm, I-I'll want to meet up with him as soon as he's available. Perhaps I could talk to Toriel and see about him coming f-for dinner or something.” 

She blinked and looked back up at Sharon, who was smiling patiently. Alphys returned her smile shakily. “Oh, this is all so exciting and terrifying all at the same time.”

“It is, Sharon agreed, “but you should really get going or you'll be late for that luncheon. Everything is handled for now. I can message you later to help you sort the details out.”

Alphys gasped, “Oh! y-your right! Please lock up like usual when you're done, Sharon? A-And have a n-nice rest of the weekend!”

Sharon chuckled, calling after Alphys as she pushed her way out of the office door and into the stairwell. “I will! See you Monday!”

If Sharon said anything else, Alphys missed it, her hearing muffled by the stairwell door easing shut with an echoing clang.

The Ebbot Institute of Science was an interesting building to say the least. Half of the architecture was new and artistic, glass walls and high, high ceilings. The other half was restored from an ancient grand hall that had apparently once stood in the middle of the city back in the days before the War. It had great massive pillars on the ground floor, with carven walls and worn, smooth stone floors. It was Greek in design, from what most people could determine, and Asgore said it had once housed the officials and mages that had been the very ones to banish them underground. That alone should have been a turn off to its majestic halls, but in reality it was more of a reconciliation, that the same halls of their enemies now housed the hope of their future. Somewhat poetic, in a way that Alphys actually thought was pretty neat. Still, it was something to keep in solemn mind, even as it inspired awe.

Alphys made her was down the winding stairwell in the newer section of the building, the half more suited to offices and business work, and where the labs and new technology was housed. Reaching the ground floor with a good deal of huffing and puffing, she pushed her way out of the stairwell and into the adorned Great Hall. Ancient though it was, it was in fantastic condition. It resembled the Judgement Hall in many ways. Perhaps that had been what Asgore had intended. The place rang with echoes and warm sunlight from its long, high stained glass windows and frescos. It practically thrummed with history. And at the center of the Great Hall stood a marble fountain, its water catching the light and sending rippling refractions on the high arched ceilings above. 

And there, looking surprisingly small in the enormous space, stood Asgore.

He looked so familiar and un-intimidating in his everyday clothes. To think that Alphys would come to know Asgore, the King of all Monsters, so casually. She'd seen him in royal robes, decked out a regal, and she’d seen him fallen asleep in his reclining living room chair in his pajamas. He was more family now than a boss, and his understanding eyes, that reflected the same sorts of regrets in life that Alphys herself carried, was a huge relief. Alphys felt a good portion of her stress and anxiety fall away like a cloak discarded at her back just at the sight of him.

At the sound of the stairwell door closing behind her, Asgore turned from gazing at the fountain’s pool and smiled. “Greeting, Alphys. I hope you did not stress or worry over the time. We really are in no rush.”

Alphys gave a breathless, little laugh. “I-I’m always in a rush. It's one of my m-many f-faults.” She gave him a rueful smile. “Sorry for k-keeping you waiting.”

Asgore chuckled. “Nonesense. It merely gave me time to appreciate my surroundings.” 

He let his gaze trail up to the tall pillars around them. The sun streamed through in so many colors, casting all around them. It was truly breathtaking. The king hummed, closing his eyes to seemingly soak it all in.

“It still feels strange sometimes,” he admitted, “to stand here in these halls in times of peace. The last time I stood here - prior to our release from the mountain, of course - was during the War. I had been asked to parlay in a temporary truce, and had come with illusions of making peace.” His shoulders sagged. “Needless to say, it did not end well.”

Alphys curled inward a bit, sorrowful on his behalf. “I-I'm sorry.” 

“As am I,” Asgore chuckled lowly. “I often wonder what might have happened had things gone differently.” He let those words hang morosely in the air before shaking his head, dislodging the memories. “But that is the past. And the past cannot be undone. We must look ahead to the future, to your great work, doctor.”

Alphys blushed. “W-Well, I'll certainly try m-my best!”

Asgore smiled softly. “I know you will. As will we all. Now!” He gave a fur-muffled clap of his hands. “Shall we head out to our destined meeting place for lunch?”

Alphys pulled her slipping purse strap back onto her shoulder and nodded with enthusiasm.

“Very well, then,” Asgore grinned. “Off we go!” And they both started heading for the great, ancient oak doors that would lead them out to the street, leaving the hall behind them.

Normally, Alphys would have taken a taxi. Taxis that were monster-friendly were often clearly marked and were used occasionally by monsters for inter-city traveling. But Asgore was far too large to fit into a taxi and the fast food restaurant was only a block or so away, so the pair decided to walk. 

They must have made an amusing duo, Alphys was sure. By now humans had more or less grown accustomed to seeing monsters out and about in the daylight. The lack of monster rights may have kept monsters from living within the city limits, but that didn't mean they didn't frequent the streets when they could. Even then alphys could walk for quite a distance without seeing a single monster. The city was so large it seemed to swallow her people up whole. Asgore, however, was a sight to behold, big and stately, even in his t-shirt and shorts. Alphys noticed the looks people threw their way, how the sidewalk seemed to clear ahead of them, either out of fear or just common sense. Asgore was huge, even by monster standards. By human standards he was massive . To not get out of his way was just plain silly, though he was far too kind hearted to step on anyone, at least on purpose. 

It was a pleasant walk, warm, the way Alphys liked it. Her scales soaked in the sun and made her feel at home. Asgore, in contrast, seemed a bit uncomfortable, his heavy fur probably a huge factor to his discomfort. It was August after all, and the bustling city made the heat even more oppressive.

They arrived at McDarcy's Fast Food Palace in record time, opening the door with the ring of a door chime and a rush of cool air conditioning. Alphys shivered, but knew she would be fine enough. The cold just tended to make her a little more lethargic, and while she couldn't have handled somewhere like Snowdin for long, this was still perfectly bearable. 

McDarcy's was a monster-friendly establishment, and while it did not employ monsters currently it was kind to all and had accommodated its services to make almost any monster feel at home. They had a wing of tables off to the right that varied greatly in sizes, hoping to provide for monsters of any type. It was really quite admirable, the lengths they had gone to. 

Asgore nodded to the cashier pleasantly and led the way over to one of the largest tables. It would accommodate he and Toriel quite nicely, while the smaller members of their group could use one of the seat extensions, bench-like additions that could be placed on top of the existing seats to raise them so that the table wouldn't come up to their chins as they sat. Asgore quickly took care of that, adding an extension onto one side of the semicircle booth, leaving just enough space free for Toriel and himself. He settled down and Alphys gratefully climbed up into her raised seat to join him.

The restaurant was pretty much empty at that point, the lunch rush having not yet come in. Perhaps Alphys hadn't been as late as she'd thought she had been.

Asgore folded his hands in front of him on the table. “I am sure that the others will be along very shortly and then we can order.”

Alphys nodded, bringing out her phone to idly flick through her emails. She mentally sighed at the number of unanswered messages that had come through even since that morning. It was nice to be popular, for her answers to be valued, but it was also a heavy responsibility. She realized that she didn't quite feel up to thinking on that just then and instead placed her phone on the table, screen down so she wouldn’t be tempted to look. 

Asgore smiled at her. “I do believe I forgot to ask how your day went, Alphys. I apologize.”

“O-Oh! Oh, that’s alright! I-It’s okay, and um, it went fine. Just a b-bunch of paperwork r-really, nothing special- Oh!” Her sudden excitement startled Asgore a bit, but he grinned widely, her smile apparently contagious. “We just got word back from the British University of Mythology and History! Sharon just told m-me on my way out!” Alphys almost bounced in her seat. “Th-They're sending someone over tomorrow! In fact, he's already on his way!”

Asgore hummed encouragingly. “That is truly wonderful news!” His smile turned a bit sheepish. “Please, remind me again for what he is needed? I know you told me, but you must forgive me in my forgetfulness. We have all had a lot on our minds.”

Alphys was only too glad to comply. “W-Well, you remember when I told you we were having some trouble converging human history with monster history?”

Asgore nodded.

“Well, I-I got thinking about it and I realized that maybe the two weren't as incompatible as we thought. A lot of myths about monsters still exist, they've just been brushed aside as legends. I b-believe that we can find comparable stories between monster history and the stories recorded in mythology, thereby bringing further proof and integration between our two races that monsters were once a calculated part of life here on the Surface.” 

Asgore frowned a bit. “Again, forgive me if I am mistaken, but from what I do know of human mythology, monsters were rarely written in the right in any given story. More than not they were recorded as beings of destruction and murder. Lies, of course, but so recorded nonetheless.”

Alphys nodded. “Y-Yes...Yes, I thought of that too. It's that whole ‘history is written by the victors’ scenario. Humans won the War, so how they saw us was how the memories of our people were preserved. B-But I found that not all humans see mythology in that way. Which is why I needed an expert to work with to try and reconcile two halves of history and uncover the true history beneath. I’d do the research myself, but credibility is always a factor i-in these sorts of things. Research conducted by a monster scientist and a human scientist will be far better received than if I were to just do it alone.”

 “Fascinating,” Asgore approved. “And now they are sending someone. That is wonderful.”

Alphys wiggled in her seat. “I know! Eeee! His name is Professor Calvin G. Horberne, and let me tell you, I was looking up his profile on the way over here and it is IMPRESSIVE . He's written books on mythology and has so many theories that, honestly, hold more truth to them than any human might think. He's got an impressive record, and he's considered the top man in his field!”

Asgore laughed. “You are excited, then?”

 “Yes!” She winced at her own volume. “W-While also being absolutely terrified. He's rather a b-big deal in the historical - and now s-scientific - world.”

“That is understandable,” Asgore chuckled. “But surely everything will go just fine. You may find that he is just as excited and thrilled to meet you .”

Alphys blushed. “O-Oh, r-r-really? N-No, stop, pfft, me?” A pause, then a tentative, “Do...D-Do you really think so?”

“Of course,” the king assured. “Do not forget, doctor, that your reputation surely precedes you. I am sure he is very much looking forward to meeting you in person.”

That only succeeded in making Alphys blush harder. She gave Asgore a grateful smile before she turned and looked out the large window to her left. She observed the people as they walked by, all so in a hurry to get where they were going. Ebbot was a big city, and highly populated, brimming with life. It was fun to see them pass by, all the many varieties of them, just as diverse as monsters in many respects.

Asgore followed Alphys’ gaze, smiling as he too watched the humans pass. It was calm and quiet in the restaurant, just the hum of the air conditioning and the sizzle of burgers in the back to break the silence. A radio murmured somewhere over their heads, but it was so soft it was barely noticeable. It still wasn't quite the lunch hour yet, and for the moment it was more or less peaceful. A nice change of pace from what had been a stressed morning.

Alphys sighed contentedly and turned back to Asgore. “And y-you,” she asked. “H-How was your day? What did you do?”

“Oh, it went quite smoothly,” Asgore replied. “Not terribly exciting, mind you, but I prefer that on a weekend day anyway. I mostly just signed paperwork, much like you did yourself. I made arrangements for the Summit, which is coming together quite nicely. I have a wonderful staff, and politicians like Mr. Hills and George Bellvue have been a great asset to putting things in order, as well as giving feedback and advice.”

Alphys nodded. “Th-They have been very helpful, yes.” 

Asgore sagged a bit. “All the same, I cannot help but feel a bit uneasy for the upcoming conference.”

“W-Why is that?” Alphys asked carefully. “Is...Is it b-because of the...accusations?”

“Mm. In part. More directly I’m concerned with the charges that could possibly arise on account of...my past sins.”

“O-Oh…” Alphys’ soul sank a little. “We...We h-have a lawyer though, r-right?”

Asgore agreed with a soft huff. “Of a sort. It helps that most on our side would count those lives lost by my hand casualties of war time, since the War of Humans and Monsters was never officially declared at an end until our resurgence.” Asgore's face was marred by tattered sorrow. “But, even then...I do not believe that I deserve to be let off so easily. After what I have done.”

Alphys nodded sadly, unsure of what to say. It was absolutely true that Asgore had done some pretty...horrible things in the past, but Alphys' own struggle with morality made her more forgiving in the gray areas of life. She could see both sides of the story. It didn't make it right, of course, but...she understood what he meant about not feeling like he deserved getting by without some sort of...punishment. Alphys had felt very much the same way when she had come clean about the amalgamates. She still felt that way. But Asgore was repentant of his ways, and fully willing to take responsibility for his crimes. In fact, he had told the humans the truth right from the start, about those who had disappeared over the years into the mountain, what had become of them, what he had done, that they were never coming back. There were sure to be repercussions eventually, but for the most part things had been kept fairly quiet about it. Perhaps it was seen as a small crime compared to the near slaughtering of the entire race. The families of those killed had demanded compensation, but they were more descendants of the deceased than actual family, bloodlines watered down through time and marriage. And they'd really only been in it for the media attention, but had all been willing to set the issue aside until a time later on, when monsters were more or less integrated into human society. It was always a pressing issue on their minds, however, particularly Asgore’s, that those humans would step forward again at the most inopportune time.

Alphys sighed. “We've both done t-terrible things we aren't p-proud of, but...we've tried to be better, tried to do good since, and...those types of mistakes come with their own consequences. Maybe...M-Maybe that's enough?”

Asgore nodded with a deep hum, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Perhaps. Regardless of what I believe I deserve, I must be here for my people. There must be peace. Then I will gladly take blame for my actions if it is so willed.”

“We’re working on it,” Alphys soothed. “F-For now, that's all we can do…”

They both fell into a somber silence, simply enjoying the understanding company of each other. It’s nice to have that sort of companionable bond, from good experiences or bad, and Alphys knew that she, at least, found great comfort in that. It soothed like a balm over raw skin, cool and gentle, even if it didn’t resolve the wound completely. It was a start. And in the pleasant atmosphere of the fast food restaurant, on a beautiful summer day, waiting for loved ones to join them, Alphys found that it felt like enough for the moment.

The sudden musical chime of an anime theme song broke the silence, along with a vibrating buzz against the tabletop that startled both monsters. Alphys very nearly jumped out of her skin, fumbling to pick up her phone and answer the call, flushing in embarrassment at the overly loud ringtone. She had forgotten to put it strictly on vibrate. Again.

She finally succeeded in answering the call, but not before almost dropping the phone twice.

“H-hello?...O-Oh! Yes, hello...Okay, um...Mh hm, a-alright. How did it go?.......Ah, I s-see, okay. Alright, that's fine, th-thank you for calling. See you sh-shortly. B-Bye!”

Alphys hung up, turning to Asgore’s curious face. “Th-That was Toriel. She’s done with her interview and s-she, Sans, Flowey, and F-Frisk are walking over from the school. I-It’s like a three block distance, s-so it shouldn’t take longer than th-three or four minutes.”

“Ah, very good,” Asgore hummed. “Did Toriel mention how the interview went?”

Alphys winced. “Sh-She said she'd tell us all about it when she gets here. D-Didn't sound too bad, but her voice wasn't exactly excited either. I-I’m guessing it was somewhere in between?”

The king nodded in understanding. “We will just have to wait and see, then.”

Alphys agreed. The silence from before returned, though it was a little more awkward that time around. Alphys felt herself start to shudder with nervous energy, so she started tapping away at her phone intently. Asgore almost immediately noticed, the Boss Monster raising his brow with interest.

“What are you up to?” he asked kindly, probably also unable to bear the uneasy quiet.

“I-I’m texting Undyne,” Alphys supplied absently. “She and Papyrus should have ch-checked in by now.”

“Mm. Perhaps they got a little too passionate in their training again.”

Alphys smiled to herself at that, hitting send and knowing that was more than likely. 

As it turned out that was exactly what had happened. Undyne's returning text popped up barely a minute after Alphys had sent hers, informing Alphys in all caps that she and Papyrus would be headed over in less than ten minutes. She then proceeded to send several pictures of her and Papyrus in the park in various ridiculous poses, the final being Papyrus sprawled out amidst the branches of a large park bush, having apparently lost his balance and fallen in. Much to Undyne's very apparent amusement.

Alphys giggled. “U-Undyne and Papyrus will be along before too long. Toriel and the others will probably get here first, thou--”

As if on cue, the little bell over the restaurant door gave a musical tinkle as it opened. Asgore sat up a bit straighter, and Alphys could tell it was Toriel who had come in just by the brightening of the king’s dark eyes. It was kind of cute, to see him react that way to his ex-wife-maybe-still-wife. As cute as an eight foot tall monster could be. 

Alphys turned in her seat, smiling in greeting as she spied Toriel, Frisk, Flowey, and Sans making their way inside. They looked a bit worn and ruffled from the heat, but otherwise smiling and cheerful. A good sign. Alphys watched with fond amusement as Sans took in his surroundings curiously, hands in the pockets of his shorts and a relaxed smile on his face even as his eyelights flitted about, taking in every detail.

Asgore gave a wave, as though they wouldn't be able to spot them, two monsters in a fairly empty restaurant, but it was really more the sentiment that mattered. Toriel gave a nod in their direction, proving she had seen, while Frisk happily waved back before she reached out behind her for Sans's hand. Sans gave in without protest, untucking from his pocket and letting Frisk wrap small, delicate fingers around even thinner, bonier ones. Leading gently, but insistently, she pulled the skeleton over toward the plastic box in the corner, by the queue line. The one that was filled with cheap toys that were given out with some of the children's meals. Alphys smiled, a warmth squeezing her soul at the sight of Frisk excitedly showing Sans the ones she thought were interesting. Alphys’ gaze shifted back over to Toriel, seeing that she was watching her charge fondly, a brilliant, motherly smile making her face nearly glow. 

“Now, now, Frisk, don’t pester poor Sans,” Toriel chided gently. Though it was quite obvious to all that the skeleton was more than satisfied to be led around by the hand, as long as he wasn't made to run.

"s'fine, t," Sans assured her over his shoulder. "we'll be over ingest a minute." 

A moment's silence, and then Toriel's musical laughter filled the place, her natural appreciation for puns leaving her reaction completely uncontrolled. The workers in the back peeked out at the raucous sound, concerned at first, but then smiling, Toriel's merriment contagious. Even Alphys, nervous out in public as she was, was covering a growing smile with her hand. Toriel was still chortling softly when she made her way over to their booth. 

"G-Good noon-time," she stuttered out, voice still peppered with perilously contained amusement. 

Asgore shifted further into the booth, making room for her, the fur of his right arm mushing up against the glass of the window. Toriel gave him a kind smile as she sat down. 

The king nodded graciously in return to her greeting. "Good noon-time. How was the walk over from the school?”

Toriel took a steadying breath and smiled. “ Warm . The sun is quite heated when one has so much fur,” she laughed.

Asgore nodded. “I understand. I was quite relieved when Alphys and I arrived here to enjoy the marvel of modern air conditioning.”

Toriel tilted her head back a little, humming in appreciation. “Mmmmmm, it does feel quite pleasant.”

“Indeed.” Asgore paused, before broaching the subject that was on his mind. “How did the meeting go? The interview, I mean."

Some of the life drained from Toriel’s shoulders, her gaze lowering to the table, claws of her resting hand clicking against its smooth, cold surface. "It went....alright. I suppose it could have gone better, but it also could have gone a lot worse. I think I made a good impression at the very least. It was not what I was expecting, or hoping for. Really not even a true meeting. More of a...a get to know you.”

Asgore grunted softly. “Ah.” And he nodded once again.

Toriel gave him a small smile and a huff. “I have a few advocates, however. One in particular cheering me on quite emphatically.”

Asgore chuckled. "Mrs. Grenswick?" 

Toriel looked to him in surprise. "Yes...Yes, actually. You know her?"

Asgore nodded slowly, a somewhat fond smile on his face. "In a manner of speaking. I met her husband, Benjamin Grenswick, a few weeks ago, and she was with him. He is a very kind fellow, if not perhaps a bit overshadowed by his wife's enthusiasm in monster affairs." 

"Mm," Toriel hummed with a smile of her own. "Her brother is Wallace Fredrick, the chairman of the school board."

Asgore raised a brow in curiosity. "Interesting." 

Toriel nodded. "Indeed. They make...quite an amusing pair." 

"M-Maybe that will w-work in your favor," Alphys piped up. "H-Her being his sister and a-all."

"That is my hope, at least," Toriel confided. "Stacy has a soul of kindness, without any doubt. But she has a streak of human determination that rivals that of our own dear Frisk at times."

"Who does?" 

The adults looked up as Frisk arrived at their table, Sans still lumbering along behind her, though he now had his hands free to stuff down into his pockets again. 

"Stacy Grenswick," Toriel clarified. 

"Ooooh." 

Frisk motioned for Sans to climb up into the booth, watching him do so before climbing in herself, effectively cushioning the skeleton in between Alphys and herself. The child set Flowey down in the center of their table where he commenced in his usual glowering. 

"Yeah, she's definitely got a little determination in there,” Frisk continued. “That can happen, can't it? More than one trait for a soul?”

Frisk turned to Sans and Alphys, them pretty much being the resident experts on souls in general. Sans shrugged, lounging back against the plastic cradle of the booth.

 “eh, more or less. human souls usually have one dominant trait, leastwise all the ones i’ve ever seen. but that doesn't mean other traits aren't present as well.” He gestured to Frisk. “like how you’re the most determined kiddo i know, but you’re also patient and fair and kind. a soul trait doesn’t make the person, so much as the person makes the soul trait. the more complicated the person, then i guess the more complicated the soul.”

Alphys nodded in agreement. “That's r-right. It's all really quite complicated and f-fascinating. Humans are very c-complex. S-So it's completely possible that this woman has more than one t-trait, like kindness and determination.” 

Frisk grinned. “But not as much determination as me.” She didn’t mean it as a brag, or a haughty comment in any way. It was simply a fact. 

Sans chuckled, giving Frisk's hair a ruffle, as he was prone to do. "that's right. no one's as determined as you are, kiddo." 

The glance he sent Flowey's way was subtle, but profound. The flower merely glowered more than before, sticking out his tongue. Sans wasn’t the least bit offended.

 “so where's paps and 'dyne? i'd think they'd be the first ones here with grub on the agenda.”

Asgore tilted his head toward Alphys. “We were informed that they are running just a little bit late, but that they will be here very shortly.”

 “heh. got really into the training thing again, huh?”

The king hummed, amused. “It is more than likely.”

“Well, I am sure they will be along any moment,” Toriel addressed, taking charge. “In the meantime perhaps we can consider ordering?”

"What about Papyrus and Undyne?" Frisk asked, frowning as though the idea of starting without all of them together was a sin. 

Toriel chuckled warmly. "Oh, my child. They will order as soon as they arrive, I am sure. As busy as it is outdoors, it is quite empty in here. They will not even have to wait in line." 

With that, Toriel stood again and Asgore moved to follow her. It took quite a bit of shuffling on their part, even the restaurants largest booth still just a tad bit snug for them.

Alphys took the opportunity to glance over at Sans directly, taking in the skeleton's cheery but exhausted appearance. She gave him a shy smile in greeting, hunching her shoulders a little as his eyelights flitted over to her in attention. 

"It's been a rather l-long day for you. H-How are you doing, Sans?" 

The skeleton gave her a lazy grin. "Well, to be perfectly honest, i’m dead on my feet." 

"O-Oh, I'm sor- Hey! W-Wait a minute...Was that s-supposed to be a j-joke?!" Sans gave her a wider grin that told her it was. She gave a fondly frustrated sigh. "Ughhhh, S-Sans!" she squeaked. But she was smiling. She felt like a doofus doing it, but she was smiling, and it was all his fault. 

Sans always did know how to make her come out of her shell a bit, even out here, in a public place, whereas back in the Underground she would have rather died than shown her face outside of the labs if she could help it. She gave the skeleton a very light push, one that wouldn't have even fluttered a wayward leaf. He chuckled as he settled further into his seat, Frisk snuggling up next to him, probably cold from the change in temperature. Air conditioning in these places were always far too high. Coming in from outside was like traveling from Hotland to Snowdin in a single step. The only person who probably knew exactly what that felt like was Sans.

Toriel and Asgore finally managed their way out of the booth, Toriel smoothing down her ruffled fur and clothes, all in good spirits. 

“Frisk, dear, why do not you not go and wash your hands in the restroom. You do not know what germs you may have picked up at the school.” Toriel smiled. “That goes for you too, Sans.”

Sans winked. “i gotta hand it to you, tori, you're the best enforcer of good health that anyone could soap for.”

Frisk giggled while Sans beamed at Toriel, the matron trying to hide a smirk. 

“Pfft. Off with you both,” she finally relented with a chuckle.

“yes, ma’am. c’mon , friskorooni. you first.”

Still giggling, Frisk wiggled out of the booth, Sans slowly moving to comply behind her. Alphys pocketed her phone and moved to follow.

“I-I'd better wash up too. The l-lab and office can be j-just as filthy.”

Frisk started leading the way toward the restrooms while Asgore and Toriel moved up to order. Toriel halted in her steps and quickly called out to Frisk before they could all get too far. 

“My child, what would you like me to order for you?”

“Chicken nuggets,” was Frisk’s answer without hesitation. 

Toriel hummed. It wasn't the healthiest of meals, but it was better than sweats. "Alright. But you'll need a bit more than that. I'll get you some fries to go with it. Sans?"

"mh?"

"What would you like, my friend?"

Sans gave a shrug. "eh, a burger for me, tori, thanks. and, uh, lots of ketchup on it, if that's possible."

Toriel smiled, shaking her head in fondness. "I am sure it is." She turned her gaze to Alphys. "And you? What would you like, my dear?"

Alphys licked her lips nervously, eyes flitting between Toriel's face and the menu above the queue line counters. Finally, she squeaked out, "I-I'll have a salad, maybe? And...And a smoothie, please."

She knew perfectly well that the healthiness of the salad would be completely undone by the sugary dessert, but, for once, she didn't really mind. It had been a good day. A good week, in fact. Her insecurities and depression had faded to something mildly non-existent, and she had a fancy professor from England coming to work with her. She felt like celebrating. She deserved a treat.

The three made it to the hall, finding two doors marked 'men' and 'women' in cute, white lettering. Alphys pushed a shoulder against the door, ushering Frisk inside as Sans did the same for the opposite door. He gave her a mischievous, but somehow still lazy wink. 

“If they’re all outta toilet paper, ya know what to do, donchya?”

“Um--”

“just roll with it.” And with that the skeleton disappeared into the men's room.

Alphys and Frisk shared a glance and a soft snort of laughter, before turning and heading into the ladies’ room. 

The scientist noted with approval how clean the bathroom was, and also the renovations done to the place to better accommodate monsters, just like out in the eating area. There was a line of sinks, each a different height and size. Even then, Frisk was having a bit of trouble reaching the faucet of the shortest one, so, after a moment or two of nervous fidgeting, Alphys bent down and gently lifted the young girl up so she could wash her hands. Then, when Frisk was done, she washed her own hands as well, both then giggling at the intensity of the air blowers. Frisk was so small that when she stood under her the warm air filled out her shirt and blew it crazily, causing her to burst into loud, delighted laughter.

Task finally accomplished, Frisk slipped her small, still-wet hand into Alphys’ own scaly one as they left the bathroom. It left Alphys feeling safe and loved, two things the child seemed uncannily good at supplying.

Sans was already finished and over by the drink dispenser, cups in hand and sending them his usual lazy smile. As they neared, Sans held out a stack of two large paper cups, like the filled one he was holding in his other hand. 

"drinks are already paid for. just have to fill them up with what you want. you get free refills, so don't stress too much if there's more than one you want to try, alph."

Alphys took her cup with a shy, grateful smile. Sans knew her too well. He knew that decisions upset her, even the more marginal ones. Knowing that she didn't have to pick one, and only one drink would make her anxiety a little less prominent. She ended up taking the pink lemonade, attracted to the color and taste of something a little stronger than root beer and a lot less fizzy.

They all met back at their booth, just as Asgore and Toriel returned to their table with their tray of food, and they all sat down to eat. Alphys happily dug into her salad and felt more at home in her family’s company than she had ever felt any other time in her life. She felt full and warm in ways that food or anime could never fill.

She was happy.

Sitting within the booth, tucked snuggly between Frisk and Alphys, Sans felt all his previous anxiety from the day melt right out of him. Not that it'd been too bad. Really, other than some uneasiness on the busy streets, the day had turned out quite well. His magic was feeling a bit low, roiling in a manner a human might liken to hunger twinges, but that was easily fixed. Sans was more than ready to dig into his meal. 

"thanks," was the skeleton’s grateful reply when Asgore handed him his paper-wrapped burger and a large handful of ketchup packets. At Sans's grateful, but curious look, the king supplied that, while plenty of ketchup had been put in the burger, he thought that Sans might perhaps want a bit more. Sans winked, unwrapping his food with a fond shake of his skull. "ya know me too well, fluffybuns."

Asgore nodded, by this point completely desensitized to the nickname, and they all chuckled.

His food released from its paper prison, the delicious aroma curled up into Sans's nasal cavity and made him realize just how hungry he really was. Lifting the bun off the top, he nodded, unsurprised. Humans never put nearly enough ketchup on these things. Reaching for the small pile of red condiment, he started to methodically rip them open and squeeze the ketchup onto his burger, ignoring the brief winces of disgust that earned him from around the table. He merely shrugged, creating a new pile of empty packets and handing Frisk the pickle slice she was eyeing hungrily on his plate.

The sudden high ring of the little bell over the door rang out, and Sans startled, twisting in his seat a little to better see the restaurant's entrance. A group of human males, young men in their early teens from what he could tell, strode in like they owned the place. They were loud; louder than they had any right to be in a public place. But they were smiling, laughing. Just a bunch of kids out for a good time with their own friends.

As they passed, one of the young men caught Sans's tense glance, taking in first him and then the whole table of them, before giving a smirk that made Sans's magic pulse. The other monsters at the table must have felt it, Toriel and Asgore giving him a worried glance and sitting up a bit straighter, taking cue from his unease. He was the Judge, after all. If he had reason to feel threatened, maybe they all did. That was probably more or less their thinking.

Frisk and Alphys seemed to notice too, the way he stiffened, and Sans felt two hands, one small, the other bluntly clawed, reach out and gently press against him from both sides. A careful reminder. A way to ground him.

That was right. He was a Judge, but a Judge badly scarred. Heh. Was he really so messed up that no one, not even himself, could trust the skills of his own calling?

Sans forced himself to try and relax again, keeping his head faced toward his now untouched food, but keeping his eye lights trained on the humans as they crossed over to a booth of their own, on the furthest side of the restaurant from them. Their laughter was loud, jarringly familiar in its mocking tone. It made him feel on edge. When he finally looked back at their own table, Sans met Flowey's gaze and mentally winced. The flower looked grimly intrigued, his attention flitting between Sans and the human youths.

Sans turned back to his burger.

He forced himself to relax a little and continued with his ketchup packets, knowing full well that he was more than likely overreacting. It was a bit embarrassing, to be honest, and the worried gazes of his family burned into him at every side, though they meant well. It had been far too long since Sans had spent time among people outside of those at Redemption, he could see that now more than ever. If he was jumping at shadows and flaring his magic over some smug kid, then he was definitely wound a little too tight.

don’t expect the worst of them , he coached himself silently. don’t see trouble where there isn’t any. calm down, eat, an’ mind your own business. everything’s fine.

Thankfully, only a few moments later, Sans was offered the best kind of distraction. The restaurant door chimed again, once more accompanied by loud voices, only this time it was ones Sans recognized. The tightness in his chest instantly eased as Papyrus came into view, closely tailed by Undyne, who was currently cursing the bad traffic with a passion. 

Toriel instantly sent her a glare, the unspoken demand for her to curb her language. Undyne either ignored her, or was too distracted to care, her one good eye fixed on what they were already eating, mouth drooling. 

“Whoa! Is that a smoothie?!”

Alphys glanced down at her treat. “U-Um...yes?”

Undyne turned on her heel, grabbing Papyrus's arm as she passed him, dragging the skeleton away from the table before he had hardly arrived at it. His sneakered feet scrambled for purchase on the smooth tile flooring, only making him flail all the more. Sans couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, joined by the laughs and giggles of the others.

"aw, pap, she just wants you to tug along," Sans called out in good humor.

"SANS! You are NOT helping-- OOF! "

"Come on, Papyrus! Ignore your dweeb brother, and let's go order! There's grub to eat, and I'm freaking hungry!!!"

“Undyne, there is REALLY no need for haste, I-”

“FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!”

Papyrus had no choice in the matter, giving those seated around the booth a plea filled glance as he was yanked back toward the empty queue. He was dirty and bruised, as he usually was after working out with Undyne. A few leaves stuck out from his clothes and joints, something that Sans knew surely had a story behind it. All in all, Sans knew that Papyrus loved Undyne’s rough training sessions. Even if Sans wished she went a little easier on him, it couldn’t be denied that Papyrus had learned a lot about defense and magic from Undyne. She’d been able to teach Pap things that Sans hadn’t been able to. And while he’d probably never say it out loud, Sans was truly grateful.

Smiling now, and far more at ease, Sans turned back to his burger once more, managing to squeeze the last of the ketchup packets onto his meal; resulting in the meat of his burger being completely unseen beneath the slathering of red condiment. Frisk gave him a challenging grin as she reached over to dip one of her nuggets into his ketchup before he could close the bun, despite having a small little paper cap of her own. He gave her a reproachful side glance and closed his lunch up proper, lifting it to his teeth before taking a large bite. He was completely unconcerned by the globules of ketchup leaking out of the burger's sides and onto the wrapper he was using as a plate. He, miraculously, escaped getting any on himself.

It honestly tasted great, and he could feel it replenishing whatever amount of magic he had exhausted earlier. The bun was fresh and fluffy, the meat well cooked but not overly so, and the ketchup, while not his favorite brand, had a pleasant tang to it. Not bad. 

“I-It’s good, isn’t it?”

Sans looked over at Alphys with a grin. “yeah, it’s pretty alright. s’not grillby’s, but they could give the ol’ hotshot a run for his money.” His expression softened a bit. “An’ how are you today, alph? Work treatin’ you okay?”

Alphys beamed, taking another sip of her smoothie. She was still eating her salad, but obviously preferred alternating between the healthy rabbit food and her dessert. “I-I’m actually doing really well! Work’s f-fine, and…” Her eyes twinkled. “We finally got someone coming from the university in England!”

“whoa, no kidding? you mean that place you were hoping could help you with the history stuff?”

“Y-Yes!”

Sans loved how the joy just came off of her in waves, he could sense it pulsing in her soul. “heh. whaddaya know. Congrats, alph.”

“Thank y-you! I can b-barely believe it myself! H-He’ll be arriving tomorrow.” She winced, some of that joy dimming just a little, replaced by anxiety. “O-Oh, g-gosh...Wh-What if he doesn’t l-like m-me?”

Sans set down his burger, reaching for Frisk’s clean napkin. Retribution for dunking stuff in his food. He wiped his fingers off, giving Alphys a kind, sincere smile. “Al, he’s gonna like you just fine. what’s not to like? you’re smart, and neat, and stylish, and smart--” 

Alphys laughed. “Y-You said smart twice.”

“Because you’re so smart it needs to be said twice,” Frisk chimed in, grinning even as she sent Sans a glare for taking her napkin.

The skeleton nodded and gave a shrug. “can’t argue with the kiddo.” He gave Alphys a small nudge. “you’re gonna do great, okay? you an’ him, you’re gonna make a difference. he wouldn’t have volunteered if he didn’t want to help out. he’s gonna think you’re amazing.”

“Oh, S-Sans…”

Moisture gathered in Alphys eyes, grateful tears and a watery smile of gratitude, and Sans was quick to turn away. Emotions, dealing with his own and others,wasn’t exactly his forte. He was bad at it. Notoriously .

“so take a load of, alph,” he ended, picking up his burger for another bite. “everything’ll work out just fine.”

“S-Sans?”

“...yeah?”

“Th-Thank you.”

He smiled wider, keeping his gaze on his food. “you got it, al.”

Sans was about to take another healthy bite when there was a noisy clatter, so sudden and loud that it made everyone in the room jump. It was followed by a loud voice, filled with anger, the tone and words making all the monsters in the restaurant freeze . Sans himself felt the unease from earlier rage back to the surface, his instincts slamming back into place so hard he almost gagged as it made his magic lurch. The initial shock lasted only a moment, and then Sans was turned in his seat, holding himself up so he could see over the back of the booth.

His soul turned to ice at what he saw.

Papyrus was over by the drink dispenser, standing hunched in on himself and looking lost and spooked, which screamed wrong to Sans even without the rest of the scene to add context. His brother’s drink, which Papyrus must have just filled and was a vibrant shade of orange, had been knocked to the floor. It had landed and splattered into a wide, flowing puddle, little islands of melting ice cubes adding to the mix. Papyrus stood trembling in the middle of it, one of the young human male's from before standing intimidatingly in front of him. The kid wasn’t even that big, barely making it to Pap’s shoulder in height, but malice came off of him like a sharp, dark mist.

" Freak! You cut in front of me!"

"I-I wasn’t trying to, h-human! I-- just-- I am sincerely sorry, I h-had no intention o-of--"

Papyrus was stuttering, something Papyrus should never feel like he had to do, in Sans's opinion. Apologies spilled from between a shaky, nervous smile, though Sans could see fear in his sockets easily.

“Yeah, sure, ” the boy sneered. “You monsters are all alike, a bunch of beasts tramping in where you aren’t wanted! Trying to take our food, homes, and jobs! You’re parasites , that’s what you are!”

“H-Human, please--”

“It’s disgusting! You’re disgusting, you make me sick! ”

The commotion had gotten the attention of the restaurant staff, the cooks and cashiers standing stock still with wide eyes and pale faces. Apparently, they weren’t trained for this kind of situation. Pity. Someone butting in on their behalf would have been appreciated. As things were, the room was still frozen, even Undyne and Asgore seemed completely caught off guard. Everyone was just sitting or standing there, doing nothing, and Sans could only stand it for a few short moments before it drove his instincts into overdrive. He felt his soul pulsing in anger and fear at the sight of any human facing off his brother like that, it all too familiar to the nightmares Sans had lived through in another time, another reset. In his mind’s eye he could picture the scene that would forever be branded into his memory, of foggy white surroundings, his brother and Frisk--no, Chara--standing in the snow. A flash of steel and the grating sound of sliced bone and then dust...so much dust …

Sans’s breath hitched, his gaze flitting between everyone else in the room and the drama unfolding before them. no one’s helping. why is no one helping?!

Toriel and Asgore had half risen to their feet, the task difficult and ungraceful with the booth making any quick movements hard. Undyne was standing over by the cashier counter with a tray of food in her hands, just watching , still as a stature and body extremely tense.

Deep down, Sans understands why no one has moved. With no rights or citizenship, monsters had next to no protection against human accusations. All it would take to turn the Negotiations on its head would be some sort of fabricated scandal. One accusation, one lie, one bad move on any of their parts and everything they had worked toward so far would be ruined. It was stupid, but it was binding. It kept them all standing there, shaking with the need to act but too afraid of the future to step in, hoping that all the boy would do was yell and curse before going on his way. Or that Papyrus could somehow appease the human’s anger. But the kid keeps cutting Papyrus off, calling him all kinds of unmentionable things that make Sans’s eye twitch and his soul burn with righteous hatred.

When the young man finally steps forward, pushing Papyrus in the chest hard enough that it sends Papyrus stumbling back, almost causing him to fall, Sans had taken all that he could handle.

In the blink of an eye, Sans was standing between them, his stunned brother at his back and the raging human before him. Sans is only vaguely aware that he just teleported in public, even less aware of the shocked gasps from everyone present. He only had eyes for the kid standing in front of him who had dared to lay hands on his little brother.

“S-Sans!” Toriel’s hissed exclamation rang out in the quiet, ringing out almost simultaneously with the sharp clatter of plastic on tile that could only have been Undyne dropping her tray of food and drink.

Sans ignored both, giving the now surprised boy a too-wide grin and a slight tilt of his head. A familiar, numbing presence boiled like acid in Sans’s soul and body, his magic stirring deep within.The glow of it reflected off of the wide eyes of the human in him, and Sans distantly realized that his eye and his soul had activated, but glowing a threatening cyan. The pulses of his soul pounded in his skull like the beating of a war drum, hurting, fueling his anger.

It had been so long .

So long since the Judge had been awoken.

It was so overwhelming it felt like it was tearing Sans apart from the inside.

The human had blinked, startled by the smaller skeleton’s sudden appearance, but then a similar hatred to Sans's own sparked in the young man's gaze. A defiance born of confidence and ingrained loathing.

"hey there, pal." Sans's voice was dangerously even. Cold. "listen, uh, i don't really appreciate people pushing my bro around. capiche?"

The boy wrinkled up his face in a terrible leer and he towered over Sans, exceeding him in height by nearly three feet. "Pfft. And what are you going to do about it, shrimp? Blink me to death with your colorful little light show? Ha!" And he glanced back at his companions for approval, who were smiling nastily and egging him on from their booth. He turned back and spat, the saliva falling short and landing between him and the monster. “We don’t like your kind around here, capiche? ” he mocked.

"Come on, Aric, beat the little freak to a pulp!" one of the other lads shouted, joined immediately by his friends.

"Teach it that it should have stayed in the mud where it belonged!"

"Kick in its teeth!"

"Yeah! Do it, Aric!"

If it had been him who had been being threatened in the first place, Sans wouldn’t have given the kid so much as a glance. His motivation in a fight was judgement, and oddly enough that rarely extended to retribution for himself. But when others were involved, the Judge burned bright, and holding back was a losing battle, like a dam held together with tape and glue. Maybe a few pipe cleaners.

Sans could feel his magic building, growing steadily as his urge to protect his brother was fed by his own driving need for justice. Danger . It was there . It was standing before him. The image of the jerk kid in front of him wavered, and for a moment he was someone else -- something else. Eyes glowing red, knife in hand; covered in gray, powdered dust. Sans was the only one left. They had killed everyone but him, like some cruel, cruel joke. He had to stop them here. He had to. He couldn’t let them win. No matter what it took. The control he had always had melted away, alarmingly absent, a numbness spreading through him. He couldn’t feel anything...except for the red scarf that sat thickly about his shoulders. This would likely be the end of his life...but it didn't matter.

He didn't care anymore.

If Toriel could have heard the montage of furious swearing going on inside Undyne’s head, the ex-captain of the Royal Guard was sure the Boss Monster would have fainted.

The minute trouble had started, Undyne had frozen. It went against her every instinct, her training and nature screaming at her to fight! Defend! Protect! To bash the human’s skull in and get him the hell away from Papyrus, but Undyne had been firmly sat down by both Toriel and Asgore, sternly instructed to keep the fragile peace. It meant being careful, merciful, and even submissive in certain circumstances, and Undyne hated it. Even within the police force she was limited. With no rights to protect her, it would always be her word against a human’s, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out which side would be given the benefit of the doubt. It sucked, but if it meant preserving all possibility for a true future on the Surface, at least until they could be protected by law, then it was worth it. She had messed up once or twice, thankfully in the company of people like Chief Delban, who was at least interested in her viewpoint and case. He too had sat her down for a talk, but apparently they had all been wasting their breath on the wrong monster.

Undyne could feel the waves of agitated magic coming from Sans, something that she had never felt before from him. Sans was usually so laid back and unphasable. She had even tried once or twice to get him riled on purpose and it had never worked. It had always frustrated her to no end, always standing there, smiling, taking whatever she dished out. Always dodging; always untouchable.

As Sans snapped into position between Papyrus and the human, Toriel stumbled to her feet, her face filled with worry and fear, worry for her friends involved and fear for what might happen as a result of the seemingly inevitable conflict. Asgore had also risen to his feet, his size large and imposing, though his expression mirrored Toriel's own. Undyne reached behind her and dropped the food tray in her grip on the counter with a plastic clatter, desperately hoping the sudden noise would be enough to break the rising tension. It didn’t. If anything, she thought she felt Sans’s agitation climb higher. 

Undyne, hands now free, clenched and unclenched them at her sides, gaze flitting between Sans and the punk who’d pushed Papyrus. Behind her, the humans on the other side of the counter were stiff and frightened, though Undyne vaguely saw one run from sight in her peripheral vision, hopefully going to get help. But it wouldn't do for any policemen to show up to see Sans threatening a human. It was visible who of the two was more of a danger, Sans’s magic rouring in the ears of the other monsters present, so different from its usual, quiet, quiet hum. They needed him to back off and calm down. And it was probably ironic that she should be the one to think so. Normally she’d be the first to beat the abrasive teen to a bulbous pulp. 

But this wasn’t exactly a normal situation. 

Backed into the corner beside the drink machine, Papyrus looked distressed, still standing hunched into himself, but reaching out to Sans and pleading for him to stop, that he wasn't hurt, that everything was fine. Sans either can’t hear him, or is ignoring him, Undyne isn’t sure which. Regardless, he made no move to stand down, and his magic continued to build.

Living with Sans for the better part of three years had educated Undyne a lot about the brothers. She’d always known they were close, that Papyrus and Sans would do anything for each other, their love for one another more than most siblings could ever reach. But Undyne had always seen them as uncomplicated. Papyrus was the innocent do-gooder, and Sans was the lazy slacker. That had been that.

Now, she knew better. She’d seen the soft actions Papyrus took when Sans seemed a bit too fidgety. She’d witnessed Sans’s nightmares first hand. She’d seen him flinch when things got too loud, seen him tense up when people touched him when he wasn’t expecting it, and Undyne’s instincts filled in the blanks. Something had happened to him. Maybe to both him and Papyrus. And that realization had prompted her to start asking questions. She’d needled at Sans, prodded at Papyrus, talked with Alphys, and mumbled to Toriel. And she’d listened in awe as Asgore finally relented and told her that Sans was the Royal Judge, and that no one knew just where he or Papyrus had come from. Suddenly, that lazy slacker, who fell asleep at his posts and always joked and drove Undyne absolutely out of her mind...was one of the most authoritative individuals in the Underground. A mystery. A power higher even then her own. Suddenly, Papyrus was a puzzle, even more so than before, and Undyne was at a loss as to how to even begin solving him. A few half-hearted tries had proven too painful for them, and Undyne had backed off. She hated unsolved cases, especially when it involved people she cared about. But some wounds were better left alone, too raw to be prodded, even by someone they trusted.

As for Sans being the Judge...She didn’t understand most of it, how being a Judge worked, or what it entailed. But in that moment, standing there in the restaurant, tense and uneasy, Undyne could feel it. Like a being deep within Sans’s soul, him and yet not, and strong and intimidating enough that even Undyne wasn’t sure she would have been able to take it focused on her directly.

Undyne watched Sans closely, taking in every detail; how he was sweating, how his hands were shaking, how his gaze was hazed and growing increasingly unfocused. She recognized that kind of expression. It was the same look she’d seen on his face just before he’d slammed her into the bedroom wall at home the night she’d tried to handle one of his nightmares herself.

Papyrus had managed to kneel behind Sans, still talking, trying to stop whatever he was so afraid of happening. He even tries to wrap his arms around Sans’s shoulders, and to Undyne’s shock the smaller shrugged him off.

That isn’t like Sans at all.

He doesn’t even seem aware that Papyrus is there.

This is bad.

"You monsters are all alike!” the human male continued to shriek, puffing himself up, trying to be intimidating. “You deserved to be buried under that mountain for as long as you were, and a lot longer! If you all went back today it wouldn't be too soon. Better yet, how about you all just turn to dust!"

That, apparently, was Sans’s breaking point.

Undyne barely registered the skeleton’s spike in magic before she was moving. Just as his hand swooped upward in an effort to grab the troublesome human's soul, Undyne leaped forward and caught his wrist in an iron grip, pulling Sans back with a rough yank. He gave a low grunt, both of pain and surprise, but Undyne didn't let up. She couldn't afford to.

"Sentry, stand down," she barked, gritting her teeth and trying not to let her own anger get out of hand. It wasn’t Sans’s fault, not entirely. If Undyne knew anything about the Judge, and she knew very little, it was that Sans wasn’t strong enough to hold it back when it deemed itself warranted. Softer, she hissed, “Stop it, Sans, cut it out!”

A blazing eye turned to face her, and for a moment, just a moment, the Judge turned on her and Undyne felt like her mind, body, and soul shut down. It was suffocating, encompassing, and utterly terrifying.

And then Sans blinked and the feeling receded, the skeleton all at once going back to the shaking, startled skeleton he was; Undyne’s friend and a part of the family she had been claimed by. Realization dawned in Sans’s gaze as the oppressive weight of his magic decreased rapidly, and Undyne saw the moment it truly sunk in what he had almost done. 

“i--”

“What’s going on here?”

It was that moment that the restaurant employee returned with what appeared to be the store manager. Thankfully, the fellow believed his subordinates when they truthfully claimed that it had been the teen who had instigated the confrontation, not the monsters. Shortly after, a policeman showed up, and the boys were properly reprimanded for their hateful, verbal assault. In the end, the teens were banned from ever setting foot in the place again, and they were escorted out, the manager begging Toriel and Asgore’s forgiveness for such an embarrassingly terrible display of humanity they had been shown. Toriel and Asgore being as they were, the manager was forgiven long before he’d even spoken. As gratitude and apology, the fellow promised to give them all of their meals a refund, and offered to add in some free desserts.

Through the whole exchange, Undyne stood where she was, her grip on Sans’s wrist gentling, but not releasing. Honestly, she was afraid to. Not because she was worried that Sans would lose it, but because the skeleton seemed to have wilted, exhausted. Papyrus stood worriedly at his brother’s side, none of them speaking until the manager said his piece and arranged everything on their behalf before heading back to his office. Then, and only then, did all present turn to look at Sans.

The skeleton had been expecting it apparently, as he winced without looking up from where he’d been staring dully at the floor.

“Undyne, let him go,” Toriel spoke softly, already moving to help lead Sans back to the booth. 

Undyne did as she was told, only relinquishing her now careful hold when she was sure Sans could continue standing without her support. He seemed fine otherwise. Tired, and ashamed maybe, but fine.

Once Sans was sitting back in the booth, once again nestled between Frisk and Alphys, he cleared his throat and finally spoke. “u-uh...i, uh…” He winced again. “i really don’t know what to say right now.”

“You do not have to say anything,” Toriel was quick to cut in. “That was not your fault.”

Sans didn’t seem convinced, letting his skull fall into his hands as he rested his elbows on the table. “i didn’t see anyone else threatening to ruin everything we’ve worked for.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Undyne decided to say. When Sans looked up at her, annoyed and morose, she hammered her words home. “You were, like, two seconds ahead of me jumping in and banging some heads together. If anything, I envy you for showing some backbone before I could.”

They all knew he hadn’t really had much of a choice, but that remained unspoken for now.

“But, yeah, that could have gone pretty bad,” Undyne admitted.

“But it did not,” Asgore added quickly. He and Toriel remained standing, both watching Sans with concern. 

“i should’a known they were trouble,” Sans muttered dully. “i knew as soon as they walked in, an’ i ignored my own instincts. Stupid.”

Frisk frowned, reaching out with a tentative hand to gently rest on his shoulder. “You aren’t stupid,” she whispered. “You were just scared...like the rest of us.”

Toriel nodded. “Like the rest of us,” she echoed in a soothing voice. Carefully, she asked, “Are you hurt at all, dear?”

“nah…”

Undyne narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t see his wrist from where she was standing. “You sure? I wasn’t exactly gentle when I grabbed ya.”

Sans shrugged. “nah, ya did good, ‘dyne. Thanks.” Something in the skeleton shifted, and suddenly that familiar smile was back in place, forced like a mask, hiding the pain and embarrassment beneath. “hey, i might head home. i’m sort of bushed and this whole wearing me out plan is really working wonders. but i think i’ve taken just about all i can for now, you know?”

“Aren’t you going to finish your burger?” Frisk asked sadly.

Sans glanced at the abandoned morsel, having dropped it to the wrapper when he had teleported. “...eh. I’m not...really hungry right now.”

Toriel sagged a little. “We understand. Would you like one of us to take you home? I am sure we can find a bus to--”

Sans shook his head. “it’s okay, t. i know a shortcut.”

Papyrus stepped forward. “No, Sans. I am NOT letting you go home alone after what just happened.”

“Me either!” Frisk cried, looping her arms around him.

Sans chuckled nervously. “uh, eheh, c’mon guys, it’s not that big a deal. i’m just a little tired and got a little freaked out. m’fine now, you don’t gotta worry.”

“And yet,” Toriel hummed with a gentle shake of her head, “we do.” She leveled Sans with a look. “Are you well enough to teleport yourself, Frisk, Flowey, and Papyrus home with you?” she asked pointedly.

Sans shrugged again. “i don’t see why not. pap doesn't have much mass, an’ neither do frisk or the weed. i’ll already be taking a few separate jumps to make it back home. a little extra weight shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You sure?” Undyne pressed. “Because a minute ago it looked like you were gonna drop.”

Sans leveled his gaze at her. “i wouldn’t risk carrying family with me if i thought i couldn’t do it or it wasn’t safe,” he said flatly.

“...Fair enough.”

Toriel sighed, then finally caved. “Very well. You four go home and rest. Undyne, if you would assist me in running a few errands I would be very grateful. Asgore and Alphys have a few more hours of work at the institute if I am not mistaken, yes?”

Alphys nodded, still eyeing Sans sadly.

Toriel nodded. “Then that is what we shall do. We will all be home this evening for dinner. Rest, and I hope you feel better, Sans.”

Sans chuckled, feigning amusement, nedging Frisk to let him out of the booth again. Undyne watched him for the shakiness from earlier, ready to call him a liar if need be, but for once the bonehead seemed to be telling the truth, his frame was steady and his footing more or less sure.

“thanks, tori.” He turned to his brother, holding out a hand rather sheepishly. “really, bro, you don’t gotta come.”

“Nonsense,” Papyrus quipped, grasping Sans’s hand in his with purpose. “Stop talking ridiculous and let’s go home.”

“heh. okay. you ready, kiddo?”

Frisk grabbed Flowey, who was grumbling protests, from the center of the booth table, securing him in the back pocket of her backpack before sliding off her seat to stand at Sans’s other side.

“Yup!” she chirped.

“alrighty,” Sans smiled. He glanced at the others, meeting each of their gaze with a mix of apology and gratitude. “don’t do anything i wouldn’t do,” he joked weakly. “see ya later.”

And in a flash of blue, Sans and his little troop disappeared.

Undyne sighed. “You really think that was a good idea?” she asked Toriel.

The ex-queen furrowed her brow. “I trust Sans in that he wouldn’t attempt teleporting with family if he thought there was a chance of something going wrong. While I sense he was very much in a hurry to leave, I know that he would not take risks with his brother and Frisk in tow.”

“Yeah…” Undyne sat down in the book, allowing Alphys to lean into her side. The lizard monster was trembling a bit, either from cold or fear Undyne didn’t know, but it made her soul ache.

It was time to change the subject.

“Anyway, so! We gonna eat our weight in food or what? Make this whole fiasco worth it?” She grinned sharkishly. “Let’s do this, I’m still FAMISHED!”

It wasn’t exactly a quip to bring the mood back to something a little more like it had been before, light and airy, but it did make the others chuckle and Undyne decided to count that as a win.

Chapter Text

“—aaaaaaAAAAAH! OOF!”

The calm, peaceful atmosphere of Redemption’s quaint living room was broken by the abrupt tear in dimensional space that opened at its center, spitting out one child, two skeletons, and a furiously screaming flower.

Flowey hated, hated, HATED the smiley trashbag’s shortcuts. They were the very embodiment of everything he feared and loathed - lack of control, darkness, nothingness- everything about it just felt wrong. It was like being dropped through the bottom of a deep, empty well with no top, no bottom, and absolutely nothing in between. The sensation was highly unpleasant, and left the flower feeling uneasy and tense. And that was under normal circumstances.

This time, as Sans had ripped them out of the main stream of time and space and into the void, Flowey had detected a definite difference. The transition was off, something felt out of place, too rushed, too manic, too chaotic. It had stolen Flowey’s breath away.

That feeling had only increased as Sans made multiple jumps, scenery mere flashes in between endless black. Flowey had whimpered, pressing his petaled face hard into the back of Frisk’s shoulder, begging the powers that be that Sans would correct whatever was wrong with the teleport before it tore them all to shreds.

Papyrus and Frisk had also seemed to have noticed that something was off. Their voices cried out in between the darkness, warbling and strange, muffled as though from under water. Just what they said, Flowey couldn’t tell, but it caught Sans’s attention regardless. There was an inaudible snap, like something clicking back into alignment, and the wrongness diminished. They were still moving far too fast, far too haphazard, but Flowey could sense Sans trying to slam on the metaphorical breaks.

And then, before much else could be done, they were being flung out the other side.

The landing was far from graceful, and with the speed the four appeared to be going there was no wonder in that. Frisk gave a cry as her feet hit carpet, her knees buckling a bit at the impact, but somehow she remained standing. She winced as Flowey’s shrieking in her ear cut off to grunt as he was jostled along with her.

Papyrus, oddly enough, stumbled backwards, his thin legs catching on the edge of the sofa and sending him sprawling against the cushions. His expression was one of bewilderment and shock, a bit pale in the skull, but otherwise unharmed.

Of the four of them, Sans was not so lucky. He had been propelled forward like Frisk, hand still clasped in hers, only whereas Frisk had stumbled out into empty living room space, Sans had been a little too far to the left. His knees clacked sharply against the glass coffee table, drawing a yelp of pain from him and causing a heavy thump as the table took the brunt of his momentum. There was no shattering of glass or bone, but still. It had to have hurt.

Flowey sputtered against Frisk’s shoulder, eyes reeling and dizzy as he tried to regain his senses. He was not, however, too disoriented to send Sans a hateful glare.

“Wh-What-What the heck?!”

Sans wasn’t in any position to growl anything back in defense, the skeleton wincing as he clutched his kneecaps, riding out the pain. He seemed out of breath, shaky and crumpled in on himself. He couldn’t have hit the table too hard, seeing as he hadn’t dusted instantly, but it was obvious that it hadn’t felt good. Flowey couldn’t have cared less, but Papyrus and Frisk—

“BROTHER!”

“Sans, are you okay?!”

Of course they would coddle him, jump in and worry over his meager HP. It was enough to make Flowey want to gag, even as he was forced forward, still lodged in Frisk’s backpack, to stagger closer to the winded monster.

“Oh, sure,” Flowey grouched, “fuss over him! He’s only the one who almost just got us all killed!”

At that Sans finally glanced up. His expression was pinched, annoyed. Sweat was gathered on his brow. He looked ill, but not so much so that he couldn’t answer.

“nnh…i didn’t almost kill you,” he countered. He started to straighten up, careful and ginger, like his entire body was sore. “i told you, if that was even a remote possibility i…ngh. i wouldn’t have tried it…”

Flowey was far from impressed. “He says as he keels over in agony. Reaaaal reassuring. Admit it, you useless idiot! You messed up!”

“Flowey, stop.”

Frisk’s tone was hard and cold, commanding. She glared at Flowey from over her shoulder, before turning back to Sans worriedly. She reached out a gentle hand, fingers just barely brushing Sans’s shoulder.

“Are you hurt?”

Sans gave her a soft, tired smile, tinged with hurt but moderately well hidden. “nah. this nice coffee table broke my fall.”

“I HARDLY COUNT THAT AS A GOOD THING,” Papyrus mumbled, moving to crouch at Sans’s side. There was the slightest hum of magic, Sans flinching just a little as Papyrus performed a check. The taller skeleton frowned. “YOUR HP IS DOWN BY THREE-TENTHS OF A POINT.”

Sans grimaced. “heh. ouch. lucky me.”

“I SHOULD SAY SO. IF YOU HAD LANDED ANY DIFFERENTLY, YOU COULD HAVE BEEN HURT FAR MORE SERIOUSLY.” Without preamble, Papyrus immediately got to work, his palms lighting up with familiar green magic. “WHILE I HEAL YOU, WOULD YOU CARE TO EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT JUST HAPPENED?”

Sans gave a soft hitch of breath as his brother began to heal him, but otherwise stayed perfectly still. “not much to explain, really. guess my magic was a little agitated.”

“Golly, I wonder why,” Flowey snarked nastily.

Sans sent the flower a reproachful glare, before continuing to address Papyrus. “shortcuts are kind of like slip and slides. the more lubricant, the faster the glide. my magic must have let loose a bit more than i meant for it to. heh. haven’t had that happen in a while. not since i was a kid…sorry. none of you got hurt, right?”

“No, I’m okay,” Frisk was quick to assure. She had shrugged out of her backpack, gently extricating Flowey from the pocket and setting him on the coffee table. “It was a little scary, but I’m not hurt.”

Papyrus nodded in agreement. “I WAS STARTLED AS WELL, BUT NOTHING MORE.”

As one, they all looked to Flowey, some more reluctantly than others, expecting his answer as well. Some small part of the flower was grateful to be included, the rest of him roiled with his usual testiness.

Flowey sneered, feeling particularly ill tempered. “You two sissys might be willing to overlook all this,” he snarled, “but not me! I’m gonna snitch!”

Sans frowned, patience obviously already worn thin. “you wanna have a bad time, weed? because we can have it all out, right here, right now.”

“Yeah, right. Just try it, trashbag! I’ll break you in half!”

“THERE WILL BE NO HAVING OF BAD TIMES, NOR THE BREAKING IN HALF OF ANY PERSONS,” Papyrus said gravely, without looking up from his task. “WE ARE GOING TO CALM DOWN, BREATHE, AND THEN…“ He paused, thinking, before giving a decisive nod. “THEN WE ARE GOING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT WE WILL DO NEXT.”

Frisk tilted her head. “Do next?”

“YES. AS I SEE IT, TODAY WAS QUITE A PLEASANT SUCCESS…UNTIL IT WASN’T. AND I SEE NO REASON TO KEEP LETTING IT GO ON BEING UNPLEASANT WHEN THERE’S PLENTY OF THINGS WE CAN DO TO MAKE IT BETTER.”

“Oh, yeah?” Flowey snorted. “Like what?”

Papyrus hummed in thought, absently switching to Sans’s other knee. “WELL, IT IS ONLY A LITTLE BIT AFTER NOON, AND IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY. WE COULD GO FOR A WALK, OR SIT OUT ON THE PORCH, OR—”

“Oh!” Frisk cried, clasping her hands at a sudden idea. “Could we go swimming at the creek? Could we? That would be so nice!” She looked between the two brothers, her brown eyes a-sparkle and smile hopeful.

Sans chuckled his way through anther wince. “i mean, i don’t see why not?”

“IT WOULD BE SOMETHING NICE TO DO,” Papyrus agreed. “AND WE COULD PROBABLY ALL USE SOMETHING TO COOL US OFF AFTER THE HEAT OF THE CITY. AND WHEN WE GET BACK, I’LL MAKE US ALL A PROPER LUNCH.”

“Yes!” Frisk cheered. “I’ll go get my swimsuit on! Flowey, you stay there!”

“Like I have a choice?!” the flower hissed, but Frisk was already gone, the thumping of her footsteps racing off toward the kitchen, up the staircase, and to the second floor. A moment later the muffled sound of her bedroom door slamming marked her arriving at her destination.

Flowey drooped, worn out from a day of dealing with stupid people. It had been a long day, and, taking that into consideration, he’d really handled things quite well, in his opinion. It wasn’t every day he tolerated his forced family as well as he had, and he hoped that would earn him something in way of a treat later on, if nothing else.

He noticed Papyrus and Sans watching him, the two brothers still huddled close, Papyrus’s hand still hovering over Sans’s knee, despite it already being healed to the max. Papyrus’s expression was its usual sad but encouraging facade, a look that felt an awful lot like pity. Flowey despised it. Sans’s expression was a little more bearable, wary with a hint of contempt.

“…What are you two losers looking at?” Flowey growled.

Papyrus didn’t miss a beat. “WOULD YOU LIKE US TO LEAVE YOU BEHIND, FLOWEY? WE COULD SET YOU UP WITH A MOVIE, OR SOME OF UNDYNE’S VIDEO GAMES?”

The flower gave a rueful smirk. “Trying to get rid of me, huh?”

“W-WH-NO! NO, NOT AT ALL! I WAS JUST—”

“Uh huh, sure. Tch. I’ll come. Not because it will be fun or anything! Nothing more boring than watching other people splash around like babies. It’s just better than sitting here staring at a dumb screen all afternoon by myself, that’s all. So. Whatever. I’m gonna come.”

Papyrus slumped a little, dismayed at the other’s attitude. “Flowey…”

“eh, let him do what he wants, bro,” Sans cut in. He still looked tired, but that gray pallor had left his bones. “we should go get into our swim clothes, otherwise the kid’ll be waiting on us.”

“…VERY WELL. FLOWEY?”

Flowey sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll wait here. And before you say anything, no I won’t touch anything I’m not supposed to. Sheesh. Happy? Now, leave me alone.”

Papyrus gave a nod, some of his typical enthusiasm returning by force of habit. Flowey swore he wore that positivity as a mask. A lot like his brother and his dumb jokes and puns. In that way they were certainly related.

“ALRIGHT! WE’LL BE BACK IN A FEW MOMENTS!”

“Oh, please, do take your time! I’ll just sit here,” Flowey rolled his eyes, “and rot!”

This time, Papyrus didn’t take the bait. “WONDERFUL! COME ALONG, BROTHER!”

“whoa!”

Flowey watched as Papyrus jumped to his feet, taking Sans’s wrist in hand before taking off for the hallway, tugging his brother along with him. It was such an entirely normal thing for them to do, that, after what had happened at the restaurant and with Sans’s teleport, it hardly seemed genuine. The sight filled the flower with a tinge of both annoyance and regret. The regret unnamed and hard to pinpoint. He didn’t like to focus on that feeling when it showed up, so he simply buried it deeper.

“Tch. Idiots.”

Sans had to work to keep his balance as Papyrus tugged him off toward the kitchen. Not that his brother was being rough about it, but he was being moderately insistent, which didn’t really bode well. If Papyrus was feeling stubborn, then Sans could bet that stern undertone was going to turn on him before long. Still, there was always a chance he could avoid it.

The brothers enter the kitchen, Sans’s shoes, gritty from being out and about, grinding crustily against the linoleum tiles.

“heh, easy, pap,” Sans warned, trying to sound joking but also clearly firm. “what happened to ‘no breaking anyone in half’? can we slow down a little? my legs ain’t as long as yours.”

Papyrus pulled up short and released Sans’s wrist at once. His expression was one of worry and concern, mixed with a small dose of self frustration. “SORRY!” he yelped, then softer, “Sorry.”

He was a little out of breath, and obviously upset, or at the very least feeling worked up over something, and Sans had a fair idea what that something might be.

Sans held up his hands, placatingly. “hey, hey, it’s okay. not a big deal, just thought you’d want me to speak up. no harm, no foul. everything’s good.” He smiled. “how about we go get dressed, yeah? frisk’s a great kid, but even she can’t wait forever.”

He started to move toward the stairs, but Papyrus, who had begun fidgeting, held out a gentle hand to lay against Sans’s chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“WAIT.”

Sans blinked, his own discomfort and uneasiness growing. “what, uh…what’s up, pap? don’t you wanna go?”

If Papyrus had a lip he would have been biting it, deep in thought but also hyper aware. He glanced toward the stairs, but then turned back to Sans, lowering his voice.

“IN A MOMENT, YES. BUT FIRST…CAN I TALK TO YOU, BROTHER? ABOUT…WHAT JUST HAPPENED?”

Sans’s soul did that uncomfortable rise-fall feeling, his grin growing a little stale on his face, but he didn’t drop it completely. Sans gave a small sigh.

“look, bro, i know that shortcut was a little wilder than usual but that doesn’t mean i—”,

“NO, NOT THAT,” Papyrus interrupted him quickly, before he winced at his own abruptness.

Again Sans blinked, realization dawning slowly, like a trickle of melting ice down his spine. “…oh.”

“I-I KNOW YOU DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!” Papyrus was quick to sympathize. Then to himself he adds, “You never want to talk about anything, it seems. BUT! IN THIS INSTANCE I REALLY THINK WE SHOULD DISCUSS THE INCIDENT.”

Sans grimaced. “incident…yeah, that’s one way of putting it. look, can’t we just…pretend it didn’t happen?” he asked hopefully.

Papyrus frowned. “YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I DO THAT NEVER WORKS. YOU CAN’T ERASE TIME.”

At that, Sans downright flinched, and it took Papyrus a solid few seconds before he realized what he’d just said.

“no. no, i suppose i can’t.”

Papyrus’s sockets widened. “OH. OH, I DIDN’T MEAN—”

The smaller brother held up a hand, soothing Papyrus’s babbling apology. Sans gave him a tired smile. “i know, pap…i know. stars…”

“I AM SORRY.”

“no, it’s…it’s okay.”

Truth be told, intentional or no, that had been a low blow. Papyrus knew talking about time shenanigans and resets, even hinting at them, made Sans twitchy. Of course, he didn’t know why it did, or rather he thought he did, just like everyone else. They all just assumed he had that same sickening aversion to the subject as they did. That it was a topic to avoid, to tip-toe around. Heh, sheesh. If Papyrus only knew the truth…

Scratch that. Sans would rather die than his brother know what he’d endured. Papyrus didn’t need that kind of burden on his mind. No one did. Sans could bear it just fine on his own.

Sans let his head drop into his hands with a weary chuckle. He scrubbed at his face, traced his hands back over the smooth curve of his skull, then let his hands fall to his lap. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Papyrus, for his part, waited patiently, and for that Sans was grateful.

“listen, i’m not really sure what’s up with me lately. i’m worn out, i guess. bad sleep, bad habits, you name it i’ve probably stepped in it. what happened at the food place, that was just me letting my…instincts get the best of me. i let my guard down, wasn’t ready for trouble. that’s it, alright? i promise.”

Papyrus nodded knowingly. “AH, YES. YOUR INSTINCTS. AS IN…YOUR SECRET ABILITIES?”

At that, Sans, who had once again started for the stairs, froze in place, then turned back to fix Papyrus with a startled, confused look. “my….my what?”

“YOUR ABILITIES.” Papyrus repeated, more certain. “AS IN THE ONES YOU USED TO USE TO WORK FOR THE KING. THE JUDGEY ONES.”

And that was the moment it sank in that maybe Papyrus knew more than he typically let on. Maybe not about the resets, or of Sans’s part in them, but apparently the intricacies of his former employment was out of the bag. Now, the only question was—

“…who the heck told you about that?” Sans inquired carefully, mindful not to sound as betrayed as he felt. There was a serious grade of privacy that came with being a Judge. There had been a time when only the Royal Family was supposed to be in the know, not only for the sake of the Judge as a person, but to ensure that the King’s consort would stay safe and available. It seemed that time had passed.

Papyrus gave Sans an indignant look. “REALLY, BROTHER,” he chided, “I MAY BE A LITTLE NAIVE AT TIMES, BUT I’M NOT A DOLT. YOU THINK I WOULDN’T PUT TWO AND TWO TOGETHER? WHAT WITH YOU DISAPPEARING ALL THE TIME BACK IN SNOWDIN, POPPING IN AND OUT WHENEVER THE PHONE RANG, EVER SINCE WE WERE LITTLE? HONESTLY, SANS, I’M OFFENDED.”

Sans fixed Papyrus with an unimpressed look. “uh huh.” He crossed his arms. “who told you?”

Papyrus deflated immediately. “UNDYNE,” he admitted.

“wow.” Sans gave a disappointed shake of his head. “…why that fish-faced enemy of the people…”

Papyrus gasped dramatically and swatted at Sans, missing him entirely, most likely on purpose. “YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL THAT UNDYNE IS IN NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM RELATED TO A FISH.” At the raise of Sans’s brow, Papyrus sighed. “I ASKED HER. ONCE. SOME TIME AGO, ACTUALLY. AFTER WE CAME TO THE SURFACE, NOT BEFORE. SHE HAD ONLY JUST FOUND OUT HERSELF, APPARENTLY.”

“am i always the subject of everybody’s secret conversations?” Sans demanded, a little hurt.

Papyrus looked guilty. “STOP IT. I WAS WORRIED ABOUT YOU. AS WAS SHE, I IMAGINE. YOU KNOW HER, IF SHE HADN’T THOUGHT IT WAS NECESSARY, SHE NEVER WOULD HAVE BOTHERED TO FIND OUT. SHE IS ALSO A VERY PRIVATE PERSON, SHE WOULDN’T HAVE ASKED THE KING UNLESS SHE FELT IT WAS IMPORTANT. AS I IMAGINE ASGORE WOULDN’T HAVE TOLD HER UNLESS HE THOUGHT THE SAME.”

“mh.”

“AS FOR MYSELF, I ALWAYS HAD A FEELING. AND, NOW THAT I KNOW, I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT I FIND YOUR SECRET POSITION QUITE IMPRESSIVE.”

Sans shrugged, uncomfortable with the sudden attention. He really had never been good at receiving compliments or praise. “eh, it’s not as great as it sounds, believe me.”

“MM,” Papyrus hummed. “PERHAPS NOT. WHAT HAPPENED TODAY PROVES THAT IT IS CERTAINLY NOT ALL GLAMOUR AND PRESTIGE. STILL.” He laid a gentle hand on Sans’s shoulder, expression softening. “I AM PROUD OF YOU, BROTHER.”

Sans couldn’t help but smile a little more genuinely at that. “heh. thanks, bro. and, i mean, seeing as you already know...what happened earlier was a part of all that… judge jazz. part of it was just me wanting to protect you, but the rest…it’s like an itch. it builds, until i have to…”

He trailed off, uncertain how to express the feeling in words.

“IT’S ALRIGHT, SANS,” Papyrus assured kindly. “I UNDERSTAND. OR, I DON’T, BUT I ALSO DO. IT IS VERY COMPLICATED. THE MAIN POINT BEING, HOWEVER, NOW THAT I KNOW, PERHAPS I CAN HELP. NEXT TIME YOU FEEL THOSE INSTINCTS RISE, THAT ITCHY FEELING, I WANT YOU TO TELL ME, ALRIGHT? WE’LL WORK THROUGH THE COMPLICATED JUDGE-Y INSTINCTS TOGETHER.”

Sans huffed a dry chuckle. “not sure it’s quite that simple.”

“YOU NEVER KNOW UNLESS YOU TRY!”

Papyrus wasn’t going to let this go if Sans didn’t comply. Sans knew that better than anyone. So, after a moment’s thought, he caved, agreeing grudgingly.

“…okay. we’ll give it a shot.”

“GOOD!” Papyrus crowed. “NOW—”

“Papyrus? Sans?”

Frisk had come down the stairs at some point, soundless on her bare feet. She stood at the base of the staircase, head tilted to the side and eyes just a little bit worried.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, looking between the two of them.

Sans was quick to save the situation, pasting on his usual grin and sending Papyrus a confident look. “heh, nope. nothing at all, kid, we were just having a bro to bro talk.” He stuck his hands into his pockets, giving Frisk a look over with a chuckle. “nice suit.”

Frisk blushed. “Pfft, thanks. Alphys helped me pick it out.”

That explained it. The bathing suit was a vibrant, almost neon, pink, bright enough that it could probably be seen from space. A hole resided in the stomach part, displaying Frisk’s belly in all it’s soft, lily-white glory, and around said hole were sewn a series of petal like strands of fabric, brilliant yellow. She looked like something out of Alice in Wonderland.

Sans hid a smirk. “she’s got good taste, huh, pap?”

“IT IS VERY…COLORFUL,” Papyrus conceded with a wince. “YES.”

“see? there ya go, papyrus-grade stamp of approval right there. can’t get much more in style than that. now, you go keep an eye on the snarky potted weed, and we’ll be right down, okay?”

“Okay!” Frisk chirped, before she skipped off toward the living room, leaving the brothers alone once more.

Sans shook his head fondly, before sharing a smile with Papyrus. It felt weird, this new ground of understanding between them. Sans didn’t really like folks knowing about the Judge, but seeing as Papyrus couldn’t un-learn the secret, Sans supposed he’d just have to accept it. Besides, it wasn’t like he was still actively working for the King. His Judging days were finally in his past, even if that inner voice inside of him apparently didn’t agree.

Too bad.

“c’mon, bro,” Sans grinned, heading for the stairs.

Papyrus followed immediately, an ever faithful counterpart.

“RIGHT BEHIND YOU, SANS.”

It takes more time to find Sans’s swim trunks than it actually takes to put them on. By the time the brothers come back downstairs, Frisk had worked herself up into an energetic mess and Flowey looked even more disgruntled from waiting, if that was even possible. They grabbed a few towels from the wash room linen closet and then, after locking the front door per Toriel’s usual decree, they struck out toward the far end of the fields.

The walk from the house to the creek was a pleasant one. It was hot out, but not so much now as before, the sun no longer at its zenith. A few clouds had rolled in, providing a bit of shade and a cool breeze.

Frisk and Papyrus took the lead, hand in hand, Frisk giggling as Papyrus skipped right alongside her through the tall grass. Sans merely walks, enjoying the sensation of dry wheat stalks brushing against his bare bone legs. It was itchy, and they’d all have to check themselves for ticks later, but all in all it was worth it. Frisk was carrying Flowey, and she was far enough ahead of Sans that he could no longer hear the flower’s grumbling, which was a relief. It gave the skeleton the peace to just soak the world in.

Birds were singing from the treeline ahead of them as they all made their way across the field. Crickets chirped around them, a few high buzzing cicadas thrown in every now and then. While everything was fairly green, the field were already starting to turn a golden brown, not enough rain and a little too much sun turning them early. Everything smelled of grass, a sweet and slightly tangy scent. It’s beautiful, and it soothed Sans’s soul like a balm. The stress from the restaurant, from the Judge, from the botched teleport— it all slides off of him like water off a duck’s back.

Papyrus, in all honesty, had been right. Sans hadn’t been okay with what had gone down at the restaurant, and he still wasn’t. It wasn’t okay. But…maybe it would become okay? One bad experience didn’t paint a clear picture of the world as a whole, after all. Yeah there were still plenty of jerks out there, but that didn’t mean there weren’t a lot of good, kind people out there too. Like Mary, or Mr Hills. Or Stacy and her little one. Sans, for his part, just needed to make sure he kept a tight leash on his instincts, especially since most people who considered him a friend didn’t even know he had any. Soft lazy Sans snapping to a defensive position wasn’t exactly something that they’d expect. Sans would probably get some questions from Undyne later, for better or worse, seeing as she was already aware of the Judge.

But for now it was warm and safe at Redemption. Papyrus and Frisk were romping through the field ahead of him, their laughter music on the wind.

Those little issues could wait.

one step at a time, buddy.

The skeleton took a deep breath and plucked a flower off its stem as he passed. It was a pretty thing, a cluster of small white blossoms with a deep red one in the middle. If Sans remembered correctly, it was called ‘queen’s lace’, or something like that. Something about royalty and delicate fabric. Story went that some queen pricked her finger while stitching, and a drop of her blood fell on the lace, hence the little red bud in the center. It was a fable of course, humans had a lot of those, but it was a somewhat charming way to describe something so ordinary and pretty. Sans had been told it was a weed, but a beautiful one in his opinion. Sans thought it deserved a better reputation.

“Sans! Sans!”

He looked up at the joyful call of his name to see Frisk racing toward him, her arms laden with wild flowers. Papyrus was right behind her, a number of blossoms threaded through the bones of his neck. He’s now the one carrying Flowey, the little pain still squawking in protest at everything.

They all fall in step with one another, and make the rest of the journey at each other’s side, Frisk sticking flowers into the collar of Sans’s shirt as they went, giggling when he started to look like a walking bouquet.

Eventually they make it to the treeline, the shade from countless oaks and birches blotting out even more of the summer heat. Light still filters through, but it’s mottled, casting patterns on the forest floor. At that point there was a path to follow, worn not just by them but by whoever had owned the farmland before them. It was a patted down trail of dirt and leaves, scuffed at points to reveal dark rich soil beneath. On either side the trees loomed high and lush, the breeze rustling their leaves with a soft shifting of plant fibers.

After a bit, the path and the landscape around it started to slowly dip downward, a steady decline that lead them to the bank of a small, shallow stream. The water was low from the long stretch without rain they’d had, mossy rocks and sediment visible. The trees formed a canopy over the water, the creek too thin to create any true break in the foliage, the gently flowing water created a perfect mirror of the trees above and the patches of sky higher beyond.

“Yes! Whoohoo!”

Frisk gave a whoop and made her way down the slope, running, but still mindful of the roots and dips in the soil.

Papyrus gave Sans’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before joining her, leaving their towels in a neat and tidy pile on a clean rock by the shore. There was also a little dock, lopsided and old, that jutted out into the creek. Flowey was set there where he could be as close as possible to the action so as not to feel left out.

Sans himself settled down beside the discarded towels, perfectly happy to stay out on the warm, dry shore. He may have put on his trunks, but he really wasn’t all that much a fan of the water. It was a known fact that skeleton monsters couldn’t technically swim, they sank like stones. A lot of folks couldn’t see the problem with that, thinking that since Sans and Papyrus didn’t have any visible lungs, then they didn’t need to breathe. That was stupid and uninformed. Skeleton monsters breathed, had to breathe, just in a different way. Air was cycled through their souls, which meant that in order for them to breathe, their souls had to have access to oxygen unobstructed. Which, in turn, meant no chilling at the bottom of any pools or rivers.

In the creek, Papyrus had very little trouble. The water was shallow, and Papyrus was tall, so the creek only came up to about his waist. Sans, however, who was considerably shorter, didn’t really feel like risking drowning himself just for the novelty of summer fun.

Instead, he rested in the shade and watched the kid and his brother play, glancing over at Flowey from time to time, just to keep an eye on him. Tori would have his metaphorical hide if anything happened to kid.

In the end, it was the weather that put an end to their fun. Patchy blue sky gave way to gray cloud banks moving in from the other side of the mountain, dark and ominous and promising a storm. Sans vaguely recalled hearing it was supposed to rain, so it really came as no surprise when it began to sprinkle.

Flowey, of course, immediately started making a fuss, and Papyrus was quick to get Frisk out of the water and up to their towels. Grabbing their things, and Flowey, they moved steadily but swiftly back toward the farmhouse. By the time they were halfway across the field the skies opened up and let loose a cold, pouring rain. It came down hard and fast, soaking them all to the skin, or to the bone in the brothers’ case. Flowey’s grumbling became curses and squawks, and by the time they made it back to Redemption they were all tired, cold and shivery, and somewhat irritated, courtesy of their resident weed.

Papyrus solved that with his usual skill. He sent Frisk up to dry off and change, while he himself took it upon himself to fetch the hairdryer from the downstairs bathroom to help blow dry Flowey. The flower didn’t appreciate it, calling Papyrus all kinds of names under his breath, but at least he had stopped complaining about being wet.

Sans was sent upstairs and directed to change into something dry much like Frisk had been, Papyrus assuring that he would do the same once he was done with Flowey. Sans didn’t argue and did as he was told.

Within half an hour they were all back downstairs, comfortable, dry, and in considerably better spirits. Sans parked himself on the corner of the couch, wiggling deep into the cushions, and Frisk snuggled up at his side with a contented sigh. Papyrus had promised them all lunch, but they found they really weren’t hungry just yet, other than Flowey who Papyrus quickly handed a fruit snack and a juice box. Drowsy and content, they decided to just sit and rest for a bit.

Even Papyrus joined in, stretching out on what was left of the sofa while Flowey was set on the coffee table. Settled in, Papyrus did them all a favor by turning on the television. It was just some cartoons, something Frisk would enjoy, and sans too to be perfectly honest. Tom and Jerry were a classic. Even Flowey seemed to like them, though it was probably more the violence that appealed to him.

Cozy, toweled off, hunkered down, and extremely worn out from the day, the living room quickly shifted into a sleepy atmosphere. The storm outside raged, there was even some far off thunder. It all made it quite dark inside, with just the bright glow of the TV to keep their attention and the sound of the rain on the roof a pleasant white noise.

Sans quickly felt the call of sleep tug at him, his focus slowly fading from the show to his own drowsy head space. Part of him was afraid to sleep, the whole goal of the day was to try and wear him out before bedtime, and a nap seemed rather counterproductive. So, for his family’s sake, he fought it for a bit. Even as Frisk’s breathing evened out against his shoulder and her weight pressed heavier against his side. Even as Flowey’s stem drooped until his petaled head sunk down into his pot. The hazy blanket of sleep became more pronounced, almost painfully so, but still Sans struggled valiantly against it.

And then there was the soft press of Papyrus’s socked foot against Sans’s knee, and when Sans looked over his brother was giving him his own tired smile. They shared a look, their own private conversation, before Papyrus gave a small nod.

“Rest, brother,” he whispered.

And Sans wasn’t about to argue. After the night he had suffered through, and such a busy day, he was fairly exhausted. He'd still be plenty tired by bedtime, and there would be other days to try and do more, but for now…

For now he let his mind and body fall slack, let sleep overtake him, and a moment later Sans was fast asleep.