Chapter Text
Stretch thought he might be sort of getting the hang of the whole world-hopping thing. Yes, every world was vastly different, but didn’t that mean he was starting to be prepared for anything? He had some confidence as he again watched the machine light up, prepared to land somewhere new. Some nervousness, but also some confidence.
It was a bed, again. However, this time, the bed was already occupied, and he was aware of it, because there was a yell of shock. He was unceremoniously shoved, landing on the floor with a grunt of pain.
“Ow. Shit. Hello?”
“wh-wh-who the h-h- who a-are yo-ou?” demanded a shaky voice. The light turned on at the same time that a thudding bass beat started to sound faintly. The skeleton that looked down at him had the same kind of skull shape as Sans, about one inch shorter, and with very sharp teeth. There was a red collar around his neck, with golden spikes jutting out, like a dog’s collar. He tilted his head, obviously confused at the sight of Stretch, but the music in the air seemed vaguely… threatening.
Stretch lifted his hands to show he was unarmed, not getting up from where he was sprawled on the floor.
“Easy, buddy. I’m not a threat, I’m just, uh… My name’s Stretch. It’s kind of a long story?”
After a long moment, the music faded. The skeleton grabbed a shirt from nearby and put it on, and it was then that Stretch realized the guy had only been wearing a pair of shorts, and nothing else. He flushed and coughed awkwardly.
“Uh… sorry. I dunno why I landed in your bed… I guess it’s a pattern.”
“i-i do-on’t u-unders-sta-” The guy was very stuttery, and it seemed to break off in frustration and take a deep breath. “e-explain yourself? ple-ease?”
“Sure, yeah, of course. Uh. You wanna grab your, uh… brother? Sister? I dunno. Your sibling? So I only have to explain once?”
The man looked stymied. “ho-ow did you kno-ow i ha-ave a bro-other?”
“Well, that’s part of the story.”
He sighed and pulled out his phone, checking the time, then frowned.
“ju-ust tell m-me. he-e’s already a-at work.”
“Well, alright…”
- - - - -
The skeleton’s name was Apollo. Apollo slipped a fluffy black jacket on while Stretch explained, and got on some socks and some laceless shoes. Soft tangerine-colored mittens were tucked in his pockets for when he was out and about in Snowdin. He listened closely, and seemed sympathetic.
“i-i dunno wha-at i’d do wi-ithout my, my bro-other… i-i’m sorry. um… i-i could help lo-ook, but, um, o-only after wo-ork.”
“Oh, hey, that’s okay. Is it, um… safe? For me to look alone?”
“u-um… i-if you, uh… do-on’t pi-ick any fi-ights o-or ge-et arrogant… then... we-ell… yo-ou’re not co-ollared…” He considered this for a long moment.
“Um, yeah, what’s up with that, by the way?” He eyed the collar again, and Apollo reached up to trace it absently.
“i-it, um… it me-eans i’m… i’ve go-ot a da-ance partner. so-o i ca-an’t, um… be cla-aimed by a-anyone else. i-it’s, um, protection? i-if someone hu-urts me, the-ey can be pu-unished by la-aw.”
“So you’re like… a belonging?” Stretch asked, shocked. “That’s awful!”
He shrugged. “i-i mean, i-i’m not tre-eated li-ike one? i-it’s… the-e only wa-ay the la-aw can pro-otect me, re-eally. i-i don’t mi-ind… i-it’s just…” He looked away. “i-i don’t da-ance the same wa-ay, so…”
“What does dancing have to do with anything?”
“u-um… do-on’t you da-ance?”
“No?”
“re-eally? ho-ow do you fi-ight? ho-ow do you, u-um, express yo-ourself?”
“Well, uh… We take turns fighting, where I’m from… Just bones, usually, for me? As for expressing myself, I guess there are artists, but I just… talk or whatever.”
Apollo looked completely stymied. “o-okay, u-um… we-ell… i-if you can’t da-ance, then, um… ma-aybe stay here… a-and after wo-ork, i’ll, um… te-each you a bi-it, o-okay?”
“Uh. Sure. Yeah, that’s fine.” Stretch didn’t like the idea of waiting so long to look for Sans, but he supposed he didn’t have a choice. What with the weird collar thing, the apparent sharpness of the monsters here, and now this dance-fighting thing… Well, it wouldn’t help Sans if he got beaten up by randos who decided he looked at them funny. So he followed Apollo downstairs, taking the machine with him, and plopped on the couch. Apollo got him some cereal and headed off with a protein bar and a waffle, leaving him alone.
After some time fiddling with the machine, trying to figure out any information about the verse he was in (he only managed to figure out that it was extremely low-frequency, very different from his own), he decided to turn on the TV. Maybe NTT would pass the time. But there was no NTT, it seemed. Instead, there was this weird tap-dancing robot with four legs and four arms, with a black, red and yellow aesthetic. While the channel appeared to be MTT-TV, his character was referred to as ‘Achilles’ when addressed. The soaps were weird, full of random musical numbers and lots of singing and dancing, but also lots of drama and violence. He was amazed at the amount of fake blood and dust. The news shows proved to be enlightening, but also confusing. Apparently, His Majesty had declared another surprise Ensemble Evaluation, whatever that meant. But people were advised to get lots of practice in and check when they were slated for performance, as they certainly didn’t want to underimpress. Stretch wondered if that applied to him in any way. He wasn’t from here, but if there were surprise evaluations, would there be police (the Ensemble??) going to people’s houses demanding something? Would he have to hide? He filed those questions away for when Apollo got home.
He wound up napping for most of the afternoon, bored and unwilling to snoop around. TV could only be entertaining for so long, especially the news and these dancey soap operas. He felt bad rooting around the fridge for lunch, but Apollo had never expressly forbade him from anything. He supposed it was fine.
Sometime after 4, Apollo returned, dusting off powdery snow from his outfit. Stretch perked up from where he’d been dozing on the couch, his sandwich plate resting on his chest. He got up and magicked it to the sink.
“Hey! Welcome back. We gonna go?”
Apollo jumped a little, looking over, then relaxed. “o-oh, ri-ight, um, ye-eah. yeah. um, i-is, do-o you mind if we-e do thi-is out i-in the fo-orest? where pe-eople ca-an’t see?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, that’s no problem. Hey, the cold goes right through me , anyway, eh?”
Apollo giggled a little. “ri-ight, yeah… c-c’mon, then…” He took Stretch’s hand and ported them to near the door out in the forest, then stretched a little. “o-okay, um… hmm… we-ell… i-i could sta-art with ba-allroom… e-everyone knows tha-at…”
“Ballroom? Fancy stuff, right?”
“we-ell, um, ye-eah, but… i-it’s easy! re-eally. no-ot a lot o-of steps. u-um… he-ere…”
The shorter skeleton pulled out a boombox and set it on his station, then fiddled around with tapes until he put one in and pressed play. Elegant music started to fill the area, and Apollo came back over and guided Stretch’s hands to the correct places on his body.
“yo-ou’re tall, but yo-ou’re a beginner, so-o… be-est to play the fo-ollower pa-art, i think. so i le-ead… fi-irst step like thi-is…”
He started to guide Stretch through the steps of the waltz, nudging his foot to the right places, murmuring directions. Honestly, it was pretty easy. He only messed up a few times, when he got confused as to which direction to go next. But he got the hang of it soon enough. When Apollo picked up the pace to match the beat of the music, he was able to follow along, watching their feet.
“e-eyes up here…” Stretch obeyed, lifting his gaze. Apollo smiled. “i-it’s fun, but pe-eople fight thi-is way… yo-ou have to wa-atch.”
“Right. Yeah, fighting. How does that work?”
A quiet hum. “mo-ostly… attacks follow the be-eat. they go whe-ere you’re no-ot supposed to go. i-if you step ri-ight, you’re sa-afe. tha-at’s why ballroom is e-easy, i-it’s predictable… o-others aren’t a-as easy. the-ey require mo-ore spontane-eity. like… hi-ip hop. my spe-ecialty…”
“Wow, you do hip hop? Do you spin on your head and stuff?”
“heh, u-um, ye-eah, that’s a-a part o-of it… there’s lo-ots more tha-an that, tho-ough… i ca-an teach you tha-at too?”
“Yeah! Lay it on me. If I know more, I’ll be safer looking for my brother, right?”
“ye-eah… a-and you co-ould a-ask around in, um, the clu-ub…”
“The club?”
“mhm, i-in snowdin? the ba-ar and clu-ub.”
“Oh.” He guessed that was what replaced Muffet’s here. “Cool, let’s do this.”
“o-okay.” He pulled away and pulled out that tape, then after a little more rummaging, put on some hiphop music. Another stretch, and then he started to dance as a demonstration. Stretch was enraptured, watching him. He moved so well, perfectly in time. There were fluid and jerky motions alike, moves he was sure had names and took plenty of practice. There was no spinning on his head, but there was plenty of footwork and arm movements. But it wasn’t just that… He was smiling wide as he danced, looking so happy. So fulfilled. The sight made Stretch feel something warm in his soul. Clearly, this was what Apollo loved to do the most in the world.
When the song came to an end, Apollo came to a halt, panting a little but looking more energized than tired. Stretch clapped, grinning wide, and Apollo blushed. He had a tangerine-colored blush, faded orange almost pinkish. It matched his mittens, oddly enough.
“That was so great! I dunno how good a pupil I’ll be, but I’ll try my best.”
“hehe, tha-anks… i-i’m sure you’ll do-o fine. yo-ou can at le-east ca-arry a beat, tha-at’s a good start.”
- - - - -
They spent the better part of two hours practicing. Stretch learned fun and weirdly-named dance moves like ‘popping’ and ‘locking’ and ‘boogaloo’ (that one was fun). It turned out his lanky build, with the long legs, made for pretty good dancing. He felt really stupid at first, trying to mimic Apollo’s instruction. He was sure he sort of looked it, too. But he started to get the hang of it, and Apollo kept encouraging him, his stutter fading a little.
Finally, Apollo stopped the music. “i-i, um… i think you’re go-onna do great. i-i have some stuff i-i’ve gotta do, but, um, you go-o on to the clu-ub, okay? a-ask around, do some pra-actice.”
“Sure. Yeah.” He was tired after all of the activity, and he’d like another nap, but now that he’d been given the go-ahead to look for his brother, he couldn’t just put it off. He had to try. He headed back to Snowdin, walking so that he had some time to cool off and catch his breath. When he reached the club (apparently named ‘The Dancing Sprites’), he took a moment to prepare himself, and then headed inside. He might find everything he’d need in here… Or it might be a total waste of time. Stars, he hoped not.