Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

*FILE LOADED

Frisk came back with a gasp.

Phantom pain shot through their side, knocking the air out of them, and they reached down to clutch at the area where a spear had torn through them only moments before. Killing them. 

No. No, no, no no no—Frisk couldn’t do this again!

They scrambled back from the glowing SAVE star in front of them as tears stung at their eyes and they bit their lip. They sucked in a quick breath, and then another. And then a muffled wail left them and they couldn't breathe right.

If they ran back to Snowdin instead of going into Hotland, would Undyne follow? Or would she just stop them from continuing forward?

Frisk hurt! Dying hurt! It hurt and they had to get away!

They sucked in a gasp as they stood back up and turned towards Waterfall. They took a staggering step. And then they took another. And another. With each step they took, they gained speed until they were running just as fast as they did when Undyne was chasing them. 

If Undyne wanted to kill Frisk again, she would have to find them.

Frisk stumbled over their feet and fell. They threw their arms out in front of them and the hard rocks on the ground tore into their skin. The familiar, sticky sensation of blood was too much. 

Frisk's heart hammered in their chest as they scrambled back to their feet and kept running. They didn't care about the cave walls they bumped into or the plants that whipped past them, leaving more cuts and bruises. They didn't even know where they were going.

Undyne didn't follow them. Her form grew smaller and disappeared with every step Frisk took, but somehow she was still looming over them. A quiet echo of her music thrummed through their SOUL and Frisk could feel the crackling magic of her spears ripping through their skin, even when nothing was actually there.

It was only a few LOADs ago (after many, many deaths) that Frisk realized they had no chance of befriending her. ACTs wouldn’t work. So they ran.

But they were never quick enough to get past Undyne into Hotland. She always caught them, and the result always ended in a painful, bloody death. How could Frisk ever outrun her all the way until they hit the barrier? She was so much faster than them. It didn’t seem possible.

Frisk couldn’t deal with this.

How much of a head start did they have? When would Undyne realize Frisk wasn't coming back? 

How long did Frisk have until she killed them again?

They would hide, get a bit more time before trying—

…Trying what?

What did Frisk have going for them? They were stuck down here, and they couldn’t even die. Was this all that was left for them? Reliving the same snippets of time over and over, and dying in every way imaginable? What could they eve—

Crack!

Frisk's foot snapped to the side as they stumbled over a dip in the path and went sprawling on the ground. They tried to climb to their feet again, but a blinding pain shot through them and their ankle collapsed limp to the side.

Frisk bit their lip, and the copper taste of blood greeted them as they muffled a wail into their sleeve. Their shoulders shook and their whole body heaved as they curled up where they fell. 

This wasn't safe. Any monster could spot Frisk here and then they'd be right back where they started. But they couldn't breathe right, and they couldn't move.

Frisk choked down a sob.

They crawled towards the tall grass next to them, wet mud slipping through their fingers and stinging at their cuts. They couldn't see much through the blurry tears thick in their eyes.

It was only when they got in the grass that they noticed the crack in the wall.

*It’s a conveniently located hiding spot.

Through their hysteria, Frisk agreed with the thought. There was a hole just big enough for Frisk to tuck themself in and be out of reach from grabbing hands or searching eyes.

Frisk pushed through the sickening shifting in their ankle and ignored the blinding pain they were in as they dragged themself into their hiding spot. Snot, tears, and dirt covered their face, and their wounds stung. But Frisk was so tired.

Their eyes drifted shut and Frisk didn’t try to fight their exhaustion.

###

RING. RING. RING.

Frisk's phone rang out loudly, and they jolted awake. White filled their vision as they jostled their ankle and blinding pain shot all the way up their leg. Frisk took a second to catch their breath before they reached for their phone, glancing at the caller ID.

Papyrus.

…There went Frisk's hiding spot. Somehow, Papyrus always knew where they were when they called.

They picked up the phone anyway.

“Hello! This is Papyrus!!! Live from Snowdin… Where you currently are not! Undyne called me and asked if you’d fled back here, since she couldn’t find you in Waterfall. I, of course, told her I had not seen you and would scour the area from top to bottom!”

A pause.

“But, even if I had found you… I would not have told Undyne!!! I am aware her opinion of you is still a bit… murdery.”

A small, choked sound somewhere between a hysterical laugh and a sob slipped past Frisk's lips. Murdery was certainly one way to put it.

“Human? You are very well hidden—I can’t even make out your face with how dark it is! Do you need help?”

Frisk liked Papyrus, they really did. Even though he was an adult, he still hung out with them and played with them. He only hurt them a little and even let them go after a bit.

(A haze of blue gravity, thick and heavy around Frisk's SOUL. Blunt force and bruises and Frisk's bones splintering through their skin as their leg snapped—)

(—...Well. Papyrus hadn't killed them at least.)

And after he fought Frisk, he had healed them and patted them on the head, and they had even gone on a date together. They were friends! Frisk didn’t really have a friend other people could see before Papyrus.

They hung out with Papyrus several times during the past week while they stayed in Snowdin, and they always had fun.

…But Papyrus was still an adult, and grown-ups hurt Frisk or ignored them when they needed them. Even Toriel, who seemed plenty nice at first, killed Frisk. They had a scar on their shoulder now—shiny and red from their last attempt at leaving. Could Frisk really ask Papyrus for help?

Before Frisk could make up their mind, Papyrus moved on to a different topic.

“If you want, you could have dinner with Sans and I! I don’t normally condone laziness, however a brief break to have a meal with friends is encouraged! You should make sure you are eating three meals a day to stay in tip-top shape!”

Frisk let out a huff of laughter.

When was the last time they had three meals a day? The last time they’d eaten anything was a crab apple they found the money for yesterday. (Yesterday? Last week? Time was confusing when they could SAVE and LOAD.)

Papyrus continued, his voice bright and happy. “It’s spaghetti, not that grease trap that Sans calls food!”

Frisk's stomach ached on top of all their other pains.

…Dinner would be good. The food would help heal them up a bit, too. Maybe if they asked real nice, Papyrus would let them pack some up so that they could have something to heal with when they tried to get past Undyne next.

Frisk shifted, and the sharp pain that came from their ankle made them bite their lip hard enough to draw blood.

How were they going to get all the way back to Snowdin?

Thankfully, Papyrus hadn’t finished his offer.

“If you got lost or need help to find your way back to our house, Sans can come pick you up. He's by his station in Waterfall! …Though, the lazybones is probably napping instead of working. He can walk with you on his way back home and it won't be out of the way at all!”

That was perfect. If Sans came to Frisk, maybe he would have some food that they could trade gold for, and then their ankle would be healed up enough to walk back.

Frisk peeked into their inventory.

*You have 2 G right now. That’s not really enough to buy anything.

Frisk frowned. ...Maybe Sans would break off a small piece of food for what they did have? It would have to do.

Frisk nodded their head and let out a quiet sound of agreement, hoping Papyrus would be able to hear them.

“Thank you, human! I shall call Sans momentarily and he will lead you back. He should be finishing his shift right about now! I will see you soon!”

Click.

Papyrus hung up the phone.

Okay, Frisk could do this. Sans would be there soon and then Frisk would go from there.

Frisk tried to wipe at the tears still on their face, but only smeared blood over their cheeks.

They would wait until Sans got there to leave their hiding place—they didn’t want to risk running into any other monsters while they waited. They didn’t exactly have the HP to deal with a FIGHT right now, even if the gold would be useful.

###

The damp rock of Frisk's hiding place pressed against their back, and they counted their breaths while they waited and tried not to think about how much their ankle hurt. Until, finally, footsteps crunched on gravel as someone walked by.

Frisk tensed up, praying it wasn't a monster looking for a FIGHT.

“kid, you here somewhere?”

Frisk relaxed as they let out a breath. Sans. It was Sans.

They tried to call out, willing their voice to work, but Frisk's throat locked up tight. All that came out was a strangled noise that turned into a cough, but it did the trick to get Sans's attention.

The grass rustled as Sans shuffled through. And then the thick patch that blocked Frisk's hideaway parted, and Sans crouched in front of them. He tilted his head to the side as he peered at them.

“heh, you’re lookin’ a bit rough there, kiddo. need a hand?”

Sans grabbed his hand by the wrist, and with a quiet pop, it came off. He waved it at Frisk, and a small giggle slipped past their lips.

But then they shifted and white shot through their vision as their ankle sent a bolt of pain through them.

Right. It was time for Frisk to get up.

As soon their vision cleared, Frisk dragged themself out of the small hole they’d wedged themself in and bit down a gasp of pain. Sans stood a few feet back, watching them as Frisk grappled with the slick rock wall next to them, using it to pull themself out. They stayed sitting. 

How would Frisk ask Sans about healing food? They couldn't talk. Honestly, they were shocked by what few words they'd managed to spit out after they fell. It didn’t surprise them that their voice decided to completely fail them.

Frisk could try sign. It was a long shot that Sans actually knew it, but... it was better than forcing choked words past their lips if they didn't have to.

So Frisk turned to him and signed, "Do you have food? I have a little money. I just need enough to stand up.”

###

The thick layer of apathy that had settled over Sans ages ago cracked just a little. 

He didn’t know if all humans were this small and fragile looking, or if the anomaly was maybe even younger than he first suspected. They were so quiet, Sans had struggled to get a good grasp on their age. Because they’d been wandering a mountain alone, he’d guessed that they were a teenager, maybe around fourteen or fifteen. But looking at them now, something seemed off about that guess.

… Maybe it was just how much they looked like an abandoned puppy.

Right. They’d asked him a question. Sans shoved his hands into his pockets as he answered them.

"sorry kiddo, but tibia honest i’m fresh out of everything right now. don’t even have any fried snow.” He shrugged his shoulders. “why don’t we get you back to my place, though? my bro knows green magic. he can get you fixed right up.”

The human’s expression sank. And then they clenched their teeth tightly, grabbed the wall for support, and struggled to stand up. If Sans was reading them right... they fully intended on trying to walk, even with their injuries. Which probably wasn't a great idea. And Papyrus would kill Sans if he let the kid walk back like that.

With a twist of magic, Sans grabbed their SOUL with gravity when their ankle shifted in a rather sickening way. Sans was no human expert, but he was pretty sure their foot wasn't supposed to point to the side like that.

“hey, slow down there bud. why don’t you let me help you?”

###

Frisk’s heart stuttered as heavy gravity magic grasped at their SOUL, even if this time it wasn’t weighing them down.

(Frisk was blue, and they were heavy. They couldn't dodge all the way and thick fields of bones flew towards them—)

Frisk flinched.

“No magic, please.”

Sans didn't let go of them until he settled them on the ground with their ankle splayed out in front of them with no weight on it. Frisk let out a sigh of relief and tried to calm their racing heart.

Sans had asked if they wanted help, but Frisk couldn't bother him and make him mad that he had to help them. He was already going to lead them back to Snowdin and have them over for dinner. What if Sans didn’t even want Frisk to come over and was only allowing it to make Papyrus happy?

Sans had been very nice up to this point, and Frisk was enjoying that—they really didn’t want to mess this up like they always did. 

*… You think of the stick in your inventory. Maybe you could use it as a walking stick?

Frisk nodded their head firmly at the thought and put on their most determined face as they opened their inventory. They gestured to tell Sans that he could go on ahead and that they would catch up.

###

The anomaly was trying to shoo Sans away, and he didn't know why. But one thing was for sure; the longer Sans took in the sight in front of him, the more uncertain he was about his first assessment of their age.

But it didn't matter.

More important was getting them back to his brother to deal with all the injuries on them. How did they even get this injured from a simple run? Sans wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the way intent didn’t matter to humans. They could just… get hurt. From anything. Even if there was no negative intent behind the action.

But they were injured, and Papyrus had asked him to bring them home, so Sans needed to help them. ...Somehow.

Sans gave the kid a once over. Even if they hadn’t flinched from a small application of his gravity magic, he wouldn’t be able to take a shortcut while floating them, anyway. He would have to carry them, but it wasn't like that was a problem. Sans wasn’t a very big guy himself, but the human was tiny. He could probably carry them around all day and barely notice it.

Before Sans could say anything, the human finished fidgeting around with their inventory and pulled a stick out. They planted it in the ground and started pulling themself up.

The kid was, uh, pretty determined, huh?

Fighting the urge to sigh at their self-destructive persistence, Sans took a step closer to them and reached out to pick them up. The kid didn’t look great, and he needed to get them some place warm and dry as soon as possible.

“come on kid, i’ll carry you there. you don’t exactly look like you should walk around right now.”

They flinched back from where he approached to pick them up and Sans paused before continuing slower.

###

Frisk bit their already damaged lip again. Why would Sans want to carry them? Frisk couldn’t remember the last time someone carried them—if ever. …But it would be much easier to get back if he did.

(And they could maybe pretend for a moment that they were being carried by a parent or an older sibling. They had always been selfish like that—taking moments and pretending that they had the family they always wanted but didn’t deserve.)

An adult's patience was a limited resource, but Frisk needed to use up a bit of Sans's right now. They would be back to fighting for their life soon and the temptation to accept any kindness offered was too great.

...Was Sans being too kind? Was this all just a trick by Sans and Papyrus so they could call Undyne over?

Frisk was too tired to think about that. If they died they would just LOAD, anyway. They would know better for next time. In the meantime, Sans’s jacket looked really cozy and Frisk wanted to know if it was as soft as it looked.

They nodded to Sans to accept his offer and put their stick back in their inventory while leaning all their weight against the wall.

“okay kiddo, up we go.”

###

Sans took that last step forward and carefully scooped the human up into his arms.

They were way too light. The fleshy types of monsters of a similar size always weighed more than this. Not to mention that with the way he was holding them, their defined bones were all too obvious, with only the thinnest layer of skin and muscle on top. It was almost like Sans was holding another skeleton. Heh, a monster in their own right.

Sans shook that thought away as he pictured the familiar space of his living room, the area around it, and then narrowed his focus down to a small spot he knew well. Sans took a handful of steps, and the next time the human blinked, he stepped through the pinch in space-time. He shuffled over to his couch and put them down gently, making sure not to jostle the kid’s ankle.

Sans called into the kitchen over the sounds of Papyrus moving around and cooking.

“hey pap, i’m home.”

Papyrus quickly turned around and peered into the living room.

“Welcome home! Dinner’s almost—“ He gasped as he caught sight of the human sitting on their couch. “Human! What happened?”

Papyrus didn’t wait for an answer as he quickly shoved the sauce covered spoon he was holding on the counter before he rushed over and awkwardly hovered in front of the human for a moment before kneeling down on the floor. Even like this, they still had to tilt their head back to see his face fully in a hilarious disparity of size. 

“Sans, go take the sauce off the stove! I’ll take care of our human friend in the meantime. Human, please hold still. It should only take me a few moments and you will be as good as new!”

Papyrus’s voice was firm as he directed them, and Sans shuffled away to do what he asked.

###

Frisk stilled as a warm green light encompassed them. Papyrus's hands were large, but he was gentle as he cupped Frisk's own, and Frisk tried not to flinch when their ankle realigned itself with a grating snap. Slowly all of their aches and pains faded, leaving only scars behind on their hands and arms where some of the deeper cuts had been.

Frisk shuffled in their spot on the couch a bit before glancing back up at Papyrus after they finished inspecting their newly healed skin. But despite that, Frisk's emotions were still hot and raw in their chest from earlier.

“…Thank you.” They signed, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

Frisk hoped that Sans understanding Sign meant that Papyrus could, too. 

“Of course, I am The Great Papyrus, after all! My talents are endless and my helpfulness immense! ...Speaking of help, let's get you some clean clothes! You can wash up before dinner.”

His teeth sparkled as he smiled down at them, and Frisk became all too aware of what they looked like at the moment. Their panicked breakdown earlier hadn't done them any favors, and they already looked rough before that. Oh no. That wasn’t good. How rude could Frisk be? Papyrus must be very disappointed in them—they couldn’t even be a proper houseguest.

Frisk really wanted to get the blood and dirt out from under their nails and wash the dried tears off of their face right about now.

Papyrus was so nice, and Frisk didn’t know if this was what having a real friend was like, but it only solidified the thought that had been floating around in their head. Papyrus was really cool.

Frisk didn’t want to take advantage of him more than they already had, but they needed to get clean before dinner or they would be even more rude. There would be consequences sooner or later for taking so much, but Frisk was too tired to fight it, and they definitely didn’t want to be ungrateful.

Frisk nodded up at Papyrus and got down off of the couch as he stood back up to his full height.

“Nyeh heh heh! Come with me then, human!”

He turned in the direction of the kitchen before calling out, “Sans, the human and I are going upstairs. I will be back down shortly—so don’t fall asleep, you lazybones!”

“sure thing, papyrus. don’t mind me, i’ll just be spaghettin’ out of your way down here.”

Frisk hid a smile and giggled behind their hand.

“NYEEEHHH! That didn’t even make sense!”

Papyrus looked down at Frisk with a mock glare.

“And don’t encourage him, human, or he’ll never stop!”

The tall skeleton started over to the stairs and Frisk quickly followed behind. They both made their way to Papyrus’s room where he made a beeline for the closet, rummaging through his clothes after he glanced down at them.

“You are very small, human. Some of Sans’s clothes might fit better, but I don’t think he has any clean. However, I will endeavor to find some appropriate attire in the meantime!”

Frisk craned their neck back to look up at Papyrus and agreed. They were already pretty small for their age, and next to such a tall grown-up like Papyrus, they were even tinier. If they wore one of his shirts, it would drag on the floor when they walked, even if it was a crop top.

Papyrus looked at them once again as if trying to figure out what to do with them before he struck up another conversation.

“I see your current clothing has stripes on it. I know humans wear stripes regardless of age. Odd, isn’t it? Much of your human media that fell down here was very confusing until we figured that out!”

He chuckled quietly.

“While you are down here, it might be better to go along with our customs, however! It would just make sense! How old are you anyway, human?”

Oh yeah, Monster Kid had mentioned something about kids wearing stripes earlier.

Frisk tugged at their ruined sweater before they held out eight fingers. Papyrus gave a quick glance over to them to see their answer before he froze in his rummaging and twisted all the way to face them.

“I’m sorry human, but did you just say you were eight!?”

Frisk cocked their head to the side before they nodded.

Why was he shocked?  ...Did Frisk lie to Papyrus somehow? Did he think they were a grown-up? Frisk bit their newly healed lip again as their heart raced. If he thought they were a grown-up like him, would he still be their friend when he found out they weren't?

But then Papyrus reached down and gave Frisk's head a firm pat.

“I believe I still have some of my clothes around from when I was a baby bones. Those would probably fit you better as well. Give me one moment, human!”

He briskly pushed aside some clothing, reached into the closet, and pulled out a small cardboard box.

It was okay. Papyrus didn’t seem too shocked. Maybe Frisk didn’t lie to their new friend after all. The pause must have been for some other reason.

Papyrus pulled out a striped t-shirt and some drawstring pants. They looked like they would still be big on Frisk, but they were much better than trying to fit into any of the other clothes around.

He handed the clothes to Frisk and ushered them to the door. He had an odd look on his face when he smiled at them and directed them to the bathroom.

“Human, here is the bathroom. There are towels under the sink! Feel free to take a shower and clean up. You can leave your clothes in the basket and I will wash them later. I need to talk to Sans about something in the meantime. Join us downstairs when you are done and we can eat dinner!”

With that, Papyrus spun around and marched back down the hallway. Frisk closed the door to the bathroom and placed the clean set of clothes on the sink.

Frisk hadn’t been in here before, which meant they had to look around before they showered. They didn’t want to take too long and annoy Sans or Papyrus, though, so they would be quick.

They opened up the cabinet under the sink.

*There are towels under here. What a surprise!

Frisk pouted at that and continued poking around.

*There are a variety of different skin creams. You try to imagine why skeletons need skin cream.

Frisk tried to picture why skeletons needed skin cream—they came up with a blank and shrugged. They picked up a bottle off to the side curiously and looked at it.

*It’s shampoo! A skeleton’s magnificent locks don’t take care of themselves after all.

Frisk looked at the bottle next to the shampoo.

*It’s body wash. It smells like cinnamon.

Frisk looked at a glass bottle on the sink.

*Bone cologne. The best on the market, no bones about it.

Frisk giggled and glanced around the room one more time.

*You think you should shower now.

Frisk did feel gross. They set the shampoo, body wash, and a towel with the clothes on the sink and wondered for a moment what Papyrus could be talking to Sans about before brushing it off.

It probably wasn’t important.

Chapter Text

Papyrus fidgeted with the heating elements on the stove as he placed the pot of sauce back on it. It was uncharacteristically quiet in the kitchen until Sans spoke.

“what’s up?”

Papyrus was feeling some emotions. A rather large amount of them, actually, and it was overwhelming, to say the least. His cool new friend was... very little. And not just in the literal sense. 

Papyrus words poured past his teeth as he spun to face Sans. “SANS. Sans, the human is a baby bones! I thought humans didn’t put stripes on their children?”

Sans didn't respond for a long second and while their bond was as muffled as usual, Sans's ever-present grin gained a strained edge that very few monsters would pick up on.

“you're kidding me?”

Papyrus couldn't even muster up a groan, though his eye socket twitched. Instead he pushed past the nauseating swirling in his SOUL as he paced the floor and threw his hands in the air.

“They Are EIGHT. EIGHT, Sans. What is a baby bones doing all alone? Do humans not care for their young?”

Papyrus hadn't questioned it before, but now there were things that were... rather alarming, when he thought about it. 

“Where are they sleeping? Where are they getting their food? Do they have anywhere to go?”

His brow bone furrowed, and he twisted his phalanges into the soft material of his gloves, grounding himself. He took a deep breath in.

The situation the human had been in earlier wasn't ideal, but it was even less so when Papyrus considered their age. Baby bones were supposed to be safe with their families. Not coming in to have dinner with their cool new friends covered in leaking injuries, with a broken bone, and evidence of a breakdown covering their face.

Papyrus continued to wear a path through the carpet.

It wasn’t just that, though. There was more to it than what happened tonight. Clues and hints that Papyrus had been ignoring. And when he laid it all out, it didn't paint a good picture. It was a rather horrible picture, actually. He didn't want to think about it. It was... easier, when the human was an adult.

The human called him frequently—often checking in when they found something new and exciting. But when they were injured and hurt they never actually asked for help.

And what was an eight-year-old doing on a mountain alone in the first place? Sure, it could have been an accident, but… their clothes were threadbare. They flinched when he moved too fast, or spoke too loud. They were very, very thin for a creature that wasn’t a skeleton.

They reached out and took every opportunity to pet the dogs of Snowdin, and they all but melted into any positive contact. Papyrus recognized the signs of touch-starvation, and he could only hope that it wasn’t as dangerous for humans as it was for monsters.

Their habits were too ingrained and their reactions too learned, and none of those things spoke of a happy, healthy baby bones that was taken care of. And with their weight, Papyrus didn't think they'd been taken care of for a long, long time.

If it had been any other child in this situation, Papyrus would have alerted Undyne as soon as possible so that a member of the guard could perform a wellness check. They would look in on the child’s living situation, and if they found it unsatisfactory, they would relocate them to a safe home.

This wasn’t any other child, though. This was a human, and alerting Undyne would do much more harm than good for them.

Papyrus wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t think they were safe on the Surface, but he knew they weren’t safe down here.

How could he make sure they had a safe home?

…

…Wait. Of course!

If there was no one to take care of the baby bones, Papyrus would just have to do it himself!

Papyrus nodded firmly, and turned to his brother.

“Sans, I believe the human is all alone. I have decided! If they have no place to go, we shall just have to make this their home! Nyeh heh heh!”

###

Sans swallowed, but the grin never left his face at Papyrus's words. He started to respond, but trailed off.

“papyrus…”

Sans wasn't sure what to say. Sure, the kid needed a home, but did it really matter? None of this was permanent. He wouldn’t remember any of this soon enough. It would all disappear.

But the look in Papyrus's sockets was alive in a way Sans hadn't seen for... years. The set to his shoulders, and the quirk of his smile. Even their bond, often muted and quiet, buzzed with anticipation, hope and eagerness. And for Papyrus, Sans would try anything, even if it was for nothing in the end.

“i don’t mind, but raising a kid’s a big responsibility. it’s more than just offering them a place to sleep. you’ve got a lot going on with school and everything. are you sure about this?”

Papyrus's face twitched in the way it always did when he was trying not to look offended.

“I know that! But… What other option do we have? What kind of monsters would we be if we allowed a child to wander the streets, being hunted down?”

Sans's phalanges twitched.

That was a low blow. And it was one that Sans was sure Papyrus hadn't even meant to make. It had been a long time since Sans and Papyrus were children, and Papyrus didn't really remember those few short years before they'd been adopted. But it was effective, and Sans shoved his hands in his pockets and stared off to the side as he tried to push down the parallels he hadn't even thought to make before Papyrus said that.

“we could try to find another family to take ‘em in. i’m sure there’s someone who would.”

Sans wasn’t sure, but he had to offer. Papyrus's sockets softened when he looked at him and then responded in a more gentle tone—one Sans had never heard him use around anyone that wasn't family.

“If you are truly opposed, we will find them a different home. However, if you are just protesting because you are worried about me, know that I want to do this.”

Sans looked at him for a long moment, considering. “nah, you’re right. i just wanted to make sure.”

Well, then. It looked like Sans and Papyrus were getting a baby bones. Maybe this would interest the anomaly enough that they would take a break from treating the timeline like a chew toy.

(Almost to dispute Sans's callous thoughts, a small tear-stained face popped into his head. Sometimes it was hard to remember that such a frail-looking creature had the power of a god.)

Sans turned to go grab some chairs from storage and drag them over to the table to get ready for dinner.

“guess that settles it. now why don’t we finish getting ready for dinner? the food’s almost ready. i can feel it in my bones.”

Papyrus narrowed his eye sockets at Sans before he spun around and marched past the table, rapping his knuckles on it on his way to the stove, and called over his shoulder. “Your puns are simply too lazy! But I suppose we can table this discussion for later! Nyeh heh heh!”

###

Frisk made their way down the stairs, happily scrubbed clean from how much time they'd spent under the steaming water. When was the last time they'd had soft, clean clothes to wear, or could take a hot shower? They weren’t sure.

Frisk stepped closer to the table and gave Sans a small wave before they climbed into the empty chair beside him. His eyelights scanned them quickly, lingering on the thinness of their wrists, and Frisk wished they had their sweater to hide behind. But Sans's gaze didn't last long before he shot them a lazy wink in greeting.

“hey there kid, see ya didn’t get lost on the way down. papyrus is finishing up dinner now. you want something to drink? ketchup?”

Frisk stuck their tongue out. "Water, please."

Sans let out a snort of laughter and hopped off his chair before heading into the kitchen to return with Papyrus and the drinks. Less than a minute later, Papyrus exited the kitchen holding a pot full of spaghetti, with Sans trailing behind.

“Human, you look much better now! Here, I have finished the spaghetti!”

He served the spaghetti onto their plate before taking the last empty seat. When they were all seated, they began eating.

*You take a bite of the spaghetti. You can taste the care that was put into it.

*...Never mind—that's just the tomato stems.

It certainly wasn’t the best thing Frisk had ever tasted. It tasted rather… indescribable, actually. But it was food (mostly—they had to pick out a few pieces of soggy cardboard when Papyrus wasn’t looking). Even better—it was food that someone wanted to share with them.

Sitting around the table with just the three of them, eating a meal that someone else offered them, Frisk could almost pretend for a moment that they had a family. It was a nice thought.

They glanced up when Papyrus made a noise of disgust. “This is disgusting! How are you eating this?”

It wasn’t that bad. Frisk had much worse in the past. They shrugged at him and gave him a thumbs up before shoveling another forkful in their mouth. Had he never eaten his own spaghetti before? They shot him a questioning look.

Papyrus gestured grandly at the food in front of him. “Everyone loves spaghetti! So I make spaghetti! I suppose there’s a reason I never eat it… I don’t understand why everyone loves it so much, though! Perhaps I messed this batch up.”

Frisk just shrugged, and Sans took the chance to pipe up.

“it’s not that bad, and you know me. i’ll eat just about anything.”

Papyrus narrowed his eye sockets at him. "Don’t 'it’s not that bad' me, Sans! This is horrible! I must not have cooked it with enough passion…”

He grumbled the last phrase under his breath.

Maybe if Papyrus didn’t like it, Frisk would have a better chance at getting some leftovers. Steeling their nerves, they patted at Papyrus’s elbow to get his attention and gestured at the food.

"Can I bring some with me when I go? I like it a lot!"

Papyrus's skull turned into a brilliant shade of red as he blushed at the praise, and Frisk bit down on the giggle that wanted to escape.

“Oh no! A sincere compliment! My weakness! If you truly like it that much, of course I shall give you more! Even if I find your tastes questionable…” He trailed off before gaining a new momentum. “But speaking of leaving, Sans and I were wondering if you wanted to stay here? We have the space!”

Frisk stilled.

They didn't want to overstay their welcome. Papyrus was a really good friend, and both he and Sans had been so kind to Frisk. Now he was being even more kind, and Frisk didn't want to push him. The longer they stayed, the sooner Sans and Papyrus would want them gone.

But Frisk was so tired.

They’d died countless times since they had fallen, and progress on their journey had stalled with Undyne.

Maybe… maybe they could stay here for just a little while. They still had to get to the surface, but they could rest. They would just make sure to leave before the brothers got annoyed with them.

They glanced over at Sans to see if they could gauge his thoughts on them staying. He caught their gaze and shot them a smile and a wink.

“it’s cool with me, kid. it gets pretty bonely around here with just us two.”

Mind made up, Frisk beamed up at the brothers and nodded. This was the break they needed before trying to get past Undyne again.

As long as Sans and Papyrus wanted them here and Frisk wasn't overstaying their welcome, they wouldn’t leave. They had someone waiting for them on the surface, but Frisk didn’t think their friend would mind if they stayed underground a little longer.

Papyrus was clearly pleased with their decision if the splitting grin he had on said anything. It was... really nice to have someone so happy to spend time with them. Frisk really wasn't used to that.

“Great! And you chose the perfect day to come over, too! It's movie night!"

Frisk's feet swung under their chair as a smile crept onto their face. They hadn't seen a movie in ages.

Once everyone finished eating, Papyrus gathered the dishes to place in the abnormally tall sink and Sans made his way over to the couch and slumped down. Soon enough, they were all ready to wind down for the evening and watch a movie.

Frisk climbed on the couch next to Sans, who had already dozed off, with little z's floating above his head. They poked at one curiously, and their finger went through it. They snickered, and poked another.

As Frisk got settled on the couch, Papyrus selected a movie and put it in the VHS player, grumbling about lazybones brothers that didn't rewind the tape when they were done. After he'd set the tape to rewind, he quickly marched over to the couch with purpose, before grabbing a blanket off the back of it Frisk hadn’t noticed before and playfully draping it over their head, obscuring their vision.

He continued around the room, turning off lights and gathering more blankets and pillows that he deposited on the couch as he talked

“Make sure you don’t look at the screen while it rewinds! Spoilers are a good way to ruin a movie.”

With a grin, he dropped another light blanket onto their head just as they were about to escape the first.

Frisk flailed around in the soft material, trying to get their head out from under. Sans woke up from their struggle and he chuckled quietly. He reached over to help them rearrange one blanket over their shoulders and pulled another across both of their laps with room on the other side for Papyrus to use when he sat down.

The blankets were warm, brushing up against Frisk's skin, and the couch under them was lumpy, but so much softer than what they were used to. Sans was only a few inches away, a comforting presence of a real person, and it was hard to resist the temptation to climb into his lap. Even now, before the movie started, Frisk's eyes started to slip closed.

Just for now, maybe Frisk was actually safe.

When Frisk and Sans were settled in, Papyrus pressed play on the movie and made his way over to the couch to join them. A gray robot danced and sang on screen, slaving away for his two step-sisters and step-mother while dreaming about going to a ball.

But, as it went on, Frisk’s eyes grew heavier.

They weren’t sure when, but somehow they ended up leaning against Sans (and his jacket really was very soft), their feet on the couch and Papyrus’s gloved hand gently resting on their ankle and tracing absent patterns on their skin. If Frisk fell asleep, this would all be gone when they opened their eyes. This beautiful illusion of a family, and people that held Frisk close.

They had... to stay... awake......

###

Sans lifted his hand and absently petted the top of the human's skull. After they'd fallen asleep, they lost the fight with gravity and ended up curled up on Sans's lap like a puppy. One of the abandoned and dirty puppies you would find in a cardboard box on the side of the road. They were cute and pitiable at the same time.

For Papyrus’s sake, Sans would have to be careful. Just like one of those abandoned puppies, the human would need lots of care and attention to fully heal. They were jumpy, cautious, and malnourished... But unlike one of those puppies, they had they had the ability to destroy everything if they were upset. Sans and Papyrus had their work cut out for them.

It was an exhausting thought. 

Sans glanced down at the small kid curled up in his lap, and his phalanges twitched as he stilled. After a second, he began petting their hair again, more intentional.

They were a baby bones, weren’t they? Only eight years old. Younger than Sans could have ever imagined.

Maybe… he actually stood a chance of changing things. What kind of eight-year-old knew how to use magic responsibly? They probably didn’t realize how horrifying the thought of everything being undone and your memories erased was.

If they were happy—given a loving home—maybe they would stop messing with time.

Sans's breath caught, and his SOUL thudded.

The small surge of HOPE in his chest was uncomfortable after so long without. And terrifying. Sans clenched down even tighter on his bond with Papyrus to make sure the emotion didn't leak through. No point in getting his brother's hopes up. It would only hurt them both all more when it came crashing down around them.

But... despite that. Maybe Sans would give this one last try. If time reset, then time reset—there was nothing he could do about it. This, though—maybe he could make a difference. Make a difference in the way the timeline was currently being chewed up and shredded like paper, but also...

Sans could make a difference for someone else the same way Dad had done for him and Papyrus.

Sans let out a snort. If his father had met the little human, he probably would have taken them in the moment he saw their sad eyes and scraped knees. The softy never could walk past someone in pain. It was where Papyrus got it from, after all.

If Dad could see them wherever he was, he would be so proud to see Papyrus had inherited his habit of picking up strays.

Welp. Guess that was it then. Sans had already raised one baby bones, and Papyrus turned out pretty awesome. How hard could raising a time anomaly be? At least when it ended in disaster Sans could say he tried, which was more than he'd been able to say for a long time now.

Sans leaned back against the couch and closed his sockets, the warm weight of a baby bones on his lap nostalgic and oddly comforting.

###

Papyrus bounced his leg on the ground as the movie came to a close. He forced himself to still when he glanced over at his snoring brother and the baby bones lying on his lap. Sans might sleep too much, but the human could use a nap. They had to have been exhausted after their very long and exciting day.

...And now they were going to stay here with Sans and Papyrus. For a very, very long time. Forever, maybe? It was a lot to think about, and perhaps Papyrus should be worried, but something about it just felt right.

He was being impulsive, but no monster, or human for that matter, deserved to be on their own.

A week ago, during their Encounters, Papyrus told the little human they could stay with him if they didn’t have anywhere to go. That was when he thought they were older. Now that he knew how young they were, he wouldn’t stand to let them be alone.

Papyrus always had Sans growing up, and for a decent portion of his childhood he had a loving father as well (even if his memory of the man was nonexistent foggy). Papyrus had always had his family, even if it had grown and shrunk over time. The thought of having no one to turn to at any age was a grim one, let alone how young this child was.

That wouldn’t be true anymore, though. He, The Great Papyrus, (and the also great, but not as great, Sans) would be there for them!

Papyrus knew what it was like to feel lonely, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

He… was still lonely.

He had Sans, and for all his grumbling and complaints, he loved his brother. He had Undyne as well, one of the best friends he could ask for.

But Papyrus didn’t fit in. He attracted attention everywhere he went, but it wasn’t the positive kind. He was desperate to have the kind of adoring fans Undyne had as Captain of the Royal Guard. He was sure that if he became a member of the Guard, he would be popular! He would have more friends! Adoring fans! Respect! Recognition!

Papyrus just wanted to fit in.

But…

Papyrus cast a glance over at the small human resting on Sans.

It wasn’t worth it. It probably was never worth it. Papyrus didn’t want to do a violence. Hurting others was wrong, and as much as he tried to stick his head in the sand and pretend it wasn’t true, he knew what fate awaited humans in the capital.

Gazing down at the baby bones, it struck Papyrus just how little they really were. They didn’t even reach his waist standing up. They were barely taller than his knee.

At first he'd thought humans were gigantic—the way everyone had talked about them made that seem true, at least. Larger than life and terrifying. Long limbs, sharp teeth, and even sharper hearts. But then Papyrus had met his new little friend and he'd thought that perhaps media had skewed the truth and humans were tiny creatures, similar to Moldsmals or Froggits.

Perhaps those were both wrong. Perhaps this human was... much smaller than they should be.

Shifting where he sat, Papyrus caught sight of their ankle where their pants rolled up. Their bones were visible, but unlike skeleton monsters’ that were heavy set, theirs were thin and frail. The sound that the bones snapping back into place made echoed in his head.

When they were awake and completing his puzzle course, they never seemed this tiny. The only other time he had seen them this small and fragile looking was after he had knocked their HP down to one and carried them unconscious back to the shed in his arms.

Papyrus shied away from those thoughts.

The human had endeared themself to him with their persistent attitude and kind smiles.

They had completed all his puzzles cheerfully and asked to be his friend. They had even flirted with him! After their failed date (in hindsight, Papyrus was very glad he rejected them), they hung out with him and went through battle scenarios together with his action figures. They called him at various points since he gave them his number, listening to all of his advice and commentary.

It was hard not to care, but Papyrus had been trying to maintain a certain level of distance, even while remaining friends. Not consciously... but he was.

After all, the human was going to disappear one way or the other, be it to Undyne collecting their SOUL or to them crossing the barrier.

He knew they made a few friends in Snowdin, including his brother—and not one of them asked the human’s name in all the time they’d been down here. Monsters loved so easily, and not asking their name was a last ditch effort at trying to mitigate the hurt when they inevitably left.

But no more. He, The Great Papyrus, had decided to take this baby bones in and he did not do things half-baked! He would ask their name in the morning.

He quietly hummed to himself. Papyrus wasn’t sure how he was going to manage this. The whole underground was after the human's SOUL. It was a miracle they made it this far, even with his wonderful assistance and periodic phone calls.

Lying was something that Papyrus greatly disliked, but he could keep them hidden at home for at least a little while as he figured out how to smooth things over with Undyne. And he wasn’t alone—Sans would help him keep the human safe.

For now, though, Papyrus had things to do. It’d been a long day, and he needed to take care of the child’s laundry and finish cleaning the kitchen before he tried to go to bed to get at least a handful of minutes of sleep. He would figure out how to maintain his friendship with Undyne and keep the baby bones alive in the morning.

He gently extracted himself from the couch before he rearranged Sans and the human into a more comfortable position. He laid a blanket over them and affectionately ran his hand over both of their heads. And then, as quietly as he could, he left to finish the chores.

Chapter Text

The bright artificial light of the Underground’s day and night cycle filtered through the window, shining on the couch and rousing Frisk. They furrowed their brows and nuzzled closer into the soft warmth underneath them. They didn’t want to get up. They were so comfortable—wherever they were was nothing like the unforgiving ground or benches that they normally slept on. Instead, it was soft fabric that smelled vaguely of chalk and ketchup, with an odd sort of thrum coming from it. Not a heartbeat, but something similar.

Frisk stiffened and slowly opened their eyes.

Their oh-so-comfortable resting place was Sans’s snoozing form, sprawled out on top of his chest. 

Frisk flailed for a second, not sure what to do, but thankfully Sans was a heavy sleeper and only let out a louder snore. They stilled again.

…They didn’t want to leave. 

But they had to. Frisk couldn’t risk falling back asleep and having Sans wake up and get mad at them. Reluctance dragged at their limbs as they disentangled themself and sat up.

With a soft thud, Frisk slid the short distance off the couch and landed on the floor. The carpet was firm under their socked feet, and they quietly padded over to the table where Papyrus was staring intently at a piece of paper with a pencil in hand, scribbling something down occasionally. A stack of textbooks was off to the side, with the one on top open.

They clambered up into the chair next to Papyrus and rested their chin on their hands as they looked at what he was doing. There were lots of lines and graphs—whatever it was, it was complicated. Papyrus glanced over at them and he took a moment to pat them on their head in greeting. Frisk leaned into the contact, drinking in the gentle touch. They tried to bite down their disappointment when he withdrew his hand and grinned at them.

“Good morning, human! I hope you slept well. I see my lazybones brother has already convinced you to join in on his eight-hour naps.” Frisk narrowed their eyes at Papyrus and tilted their head. They couldn’t figure out if he was joking or not. …He probably was.

He scribbled one last thing on his paper before he put his pencil down and turned all the way to face them.

“You must be hungry! I will get you breakfast. It is the most important meal of the day after all! Do you like dinosaur egg oatmeal?”

“What’s that? It sounds good!"

Papyrus’s face twitched into a scandalized expression.

“GASP! You’ve never heard of dinosaur egg oatmeal? Why, it’s only the best food in existence! This won’t do at all! Come, we must remedy this at once!”

He jumped up from the table and waited for Frisk to do the same before he ushered them into the kitchen. A few slammed cabinets and a whistling kettle later, Papyrus prepared the oatmeal, only needing hot water to be finished. He handed Frisk a fork.

"Here you are! After I pour the water in, stir it slowly and then keep an eye on those little eggs! I think you'll find yourself in for a rather colorful surprise! Nyeh heh heh!"

He poured the water as he laughed. And then Frisk's eyes widened as they stirred it just like he said. Little pops of brightly colored creatures slowly melted out of the shells, and Frisk bit back a gasp of delight.

Papyrus chuckled again before he carried one of the bowls over to the living room and balanced it on Sans’s skull.

When Frisk's stomach grumbled angrily, they hopped back up to the table where Papyrus joined them. They gave him one last lingering glance before they actually took a bite of their food.

It fizzled and popped as it disappeared at the back of their throat like monster food tended to do, and Frisk had to force themself to slow down as they ate it so they didn't make themself sick. Still, it was gone all too quickly, and Frisk shoved down their lingering disappointment and hunger. Frisk had gotten two meals in a row, and that was something to be grateful for.

Papyrus finished his own only seconds later, and then he turned to Frisk.

“Human! It occurred to me last night that I have not asked your name! A tremendous oversight from a friend as great as I. Would you share it with me?”

Frisk paused for a second before a grin split their face. Papyrus wanted to know their name! The only one who’d ever called them by their name was Mr. Angel. Frisk was giddy as they introduced themself. "F-R-I-S-K. Frisk!"

Papyrus smiled just as widely back at them, greeting them out loud even as he signed their name. “Human Frisk! That is a wonderful name!”

"Thank you!"

Frisk turned back to the table and jolted when they saw Sans lounging on the other chair at the table with an empty bowl in front of him. He was so quiet! And how did he get the bowl off of his head without them noticing?

“frisk, eh? that is a nice name. sounds almost like a monster name.” Sans turned to Papyrus, “and thanks for making breakfast.”

“Of course, Sans!” Papyrus narrowed his eyes at Sans. “Anything is better than the usual junk you consume after all! Nyeh heh heh!”

Sans threw an arm over his head, putting on a wounded expression. “straight to the SOUL. attack anything but my choice in eating habits! and, you just called grillbz’s food junk.” He grinned at Papyrus and mischief twinkled in his sockets. “should i let him know how you really feel, papyrus?”

Papyrus shrieked in response, “It is unhealthy! You know that, Sans!”

Frisk watched Sans and Papyrus tease each other and a giggle escaped them. Even though they were riling each other up, nobody looked hurt or angry, and Frisk hadn't known that was possible before meeting them.

Sans and Papyrus’s antics came to a close when Papyrus chased Sans out the door, a slipper held threateningly in his hand.

“And now look at the time! All your lollygagging has made you late for work! Get out of here, shoo! You’ve only got five minutes until your shift starts!”

“eh, don’t worry about it. i know a shortcut.” Sans winked over at where Frisk was still sitting at the table. Papyrus didn’t appreciate his response.

“Your ‘shortcuts’ won’t matter if you don’t leave now! Three minutes left!”

Frisk laughed quietly when Sans allowed himself to be corralled out of the door with a good-natured wave towards them.

“okay, okay. i’m going.”

###

The splintering wood of Sans's sentry station dug into his elbows as he leaned on it. Snow melted into his slippers, and he could faintly hear the local teenagers messing around in the distance. Despite this, the sound of Snowdin Woods’ magic settled around him comfortably.

His gaze drifted to the Ruins door in the distance, before he let his skull thunk down onto the wood counter in front of him.

A lot happened in the past week.

Sans was tired. He was so, so tired. With everything that happened, he figured he’d be feeling something. Guess he used up all the emotions he had last night. Apathy lay thick in his SOUL, a murky fog that muffled everything and dragged him down.

He used to be full of energy. A can-do kinda attitude. Hell, he managed a PhD at 21—that was pretty impressive if he said so himself. Not exactly something he could have achieved by sitting on his ass. Now, though, it was a good day if he could haul himself out of bed on time.

He wasn’t sure when he’d gotten this bad, but he knew he was slipping when Papyrus insisted he get this job as a sentry. It’d just gotten harder and harder to do anything other than sleep recently.

Papyrus was all grown-up now, after all. What was left for Sans to do? And even if he did try to find something to do with his life, none of it mattered. It was all going to be erased and he wouldn’t remember it.

Sans could feel Papyrus worry about him over their bond, but he wasn’t sure how to fix it—if he even could.

Sans wished he had never seen those timelines.

But Papyrus wanted him to do something. So Sans got the job, because even if everything was going to disappear, he couldn’t stand to see Papyrus worried.

Sans lifted his head back up to look at the Ruins entrance again. He stood up and his slippered feet shuffled through the snow as he made his way over to sink down to the ground in front of the ancient door. A sigh escaped him as he leaned his weight against it. He lifted his head to gaze sightlessly at the dark cavern ceiling above him. Snow drifted peacefully through the air, and Sans could see his breath when he exhaled.

He slowly lifted his hand and rapped on the door beside him.

“knock knock.”

No answer. It was the second week in a row that the door lady was quiet.

He answered himself. “who’s there? tank. tank who? you’re welcome!”

No response. That was okay, though—Sans wasn’t having the best day himself. He’d skipped a couple of their meetups in the past, too. He was vaguely worried, but this wasn’t out of the norm for them. He’d admit that he had a bit of a paranoid thought when the human had tumbled out of the ruins, but there wasn’t a speck of dust on their hands or a drop of EXP in their SOUL. Which meant she was probably just having a bad day.

What a pair they made, Sans and the door lady. They didn’t talk about serious topics much, mostly sticking to more lighthearted ones, but Sans knew she had days she couldn’t get out of bed either.

She was a wonderful lady, really. They exchanged jokes through the door, and she made Sans laugh harder than he ever had before. Someone like that just had a kind of integrity that he couldn't say no to.

So when the day came that one of those rare serious topics popped up, Sans paused and listened. Her voice had been wavering and quiet, and it sounded like she’d been crying for a good long time before he showed up. He wasn’t sure exactly what she’d gone through, but he knew she lost someone. So when she’d quietly broached the topic, he’d felt compelled to agree.

She asked him to promise to watch over any humans that came through the door.

Sans… didn’t care much for humanity one way or the other. They were people, just like monsters. Sure, capturing a human was part of his job description, but, eh, it wasn’t like he was known for actually doing work anymore.

And she seemed like she needed that promise.

Sans didn’t like making promises. But he made one anyway. He’d cautioned her he couldn’t guarantee that any human would live, but that he wouldn’t harm them and that he would keep an eye socket out for them. 

And then the day came. A ragged little human, shivering their way through the cold snow, had exited the ruins. He’d introduced himself and followed behind them as they befriended every monster they passed. And every time, Sans's SOUL wound tighter in his chest.

Because the human reacted to things before they happened. They had tension in the corner of their mouth that told Sans they'd seen it all before.

And… it added up. Sure, Sans was watching them, but he wasn’t exactly jumping in to drag them out of danger. Considering the fact that the human was still alive, even with every monster out for their SOUL, he was pretty sure he’d found his anomaly. If they could rewind time when their HP started getting low, they would get as many do overs as they needed as long as they were quick enough.

Sans, for one heart-stopping, SOUL-crushing moment, felt HOPE well up in him. The anomaly was mortal. They were human. They could be stopped. But then the HOPE drained right back out of him when he remembered his promise.

If it wasn’t for that promise, that would have been it. He would have snuck up behind them and his blasters would have taken care of them before they could even register that they were hurt. Sans couldn’t normally do a lot of damage, but the human had no LV and no DEF, and Sans wasn’t exactly planning on fighting fair. Sure, KARMA wouldn’t help him out, but with health as low as theirs? A few seconds of blaster beam would do the trick, regardless.

It would have been quick, easy, and painless. But Sans made a promise, so instead he followed them around and tried to ignore the futility of existing when everyone’s future was held in the hands of a small little human.

But that was when he looked at the rather scrawny thing again, the upset slant to their mouth and the furrow of their brows. The tense and flighty way they held themself.

Maybe… the anomaly was doing this because they were unhappy. Maybe there was another way to stop the timeline from jumping back.

He tried to keep an even closer eye on them from then on and give them good food, nice friends, and bad laughs. He took them to Grillby’s, told them some jokes, pulled some pranks. He befriended the kid and watched as they befriended his brother.

And now the kid was going to be living with them. Through the haze of apathy that settled over Sans, a glimmer of HOPE broke through again. Maybe someday life wouldn't be pointless anymore. It was a nice dream, at least.

The anomaly was a baby bones after all—a rather neglected one. With some affection and proper parental guidance, maybe they would settle down and stop treating the timeline like a chew toy soon.

Sans could only hope that this would end well—preferably with the kid alive and with a healthy respect for world-altering magic. Papyrus was already attached to them, after all (and Sans could admit that he was getting sort of fond of them himself). 

And now it would kind of suck if they ended up dead. Maybe one of these days the kid would run out of luck, or get tired, and not manage to reset the timeline before someone killed them. But at least that would be the end of his existential dread of knowing that everyone’s very existence was held in the hands of a creature only slightly older than a toddler.

Yes. Maybe things would all work out. Sans would try to shake off his laziness and get off his coccyx. Heh. Maybe he could even increase his HOPE so that he wasn’t one stiff breeze away from falling down. 

Sans let out a sigh and closed his sockets for a moment. He forced them open a second later and mustered the willpower to glance at his phone and check the time. His shift was over.

Sans stood up off the ground and brushed the snow from his shorts, already plastering a smile on his face. A couple of steps later and he was in Snowdin Town. He would head to the general store and buy some stuff they would need for a kid. 

…Aww crap, he was going to have to learn what to do with hair, wasn’t he?

Chapter Text

Time passed, as it tended to do (at least when Frisk wasn't being killed over and over again) and Frisk slid almost seamlessly into the brother’s lives. It was… different from what they were used to in a new home.

There were no overcrowding of other kids, or quiet, cold rooms alone, and neither Sans or Papyrus acted much like the adults Frisk was used to. No silent frustration when Frisk couldn't talk, or when they tapped their hands on their thighs. Actually, Papyrus sometimes rocked on his heels in a way that reminded Frisk of themself, and was constantly moving in the same ways Frisk always used to get scolded for. 

And the pranks. There were so many jokes and pranks.

Story time in the evenings included Frisk. Meals and activities were rowdy and fun, and while Frisk was overwhelmed at the volume sometimes, both Sans and Papyrus quieted down when Frisk felt like the world was too much, and they never got in trouble for needing to go sit somewhere else where there wasn't so much noise.

Most importantly, Frisk never, ever, felt like Sans and Papyrus didn’t want them there. That phase of things never lasted long, but Frisk would enjoy it while it did. And it didn't matter that Sans and Papyrus would get tired of Frisk, because they had to get back to the surface at some point anyway. But surely just a little longer here wouldn’t hurt…

###

Sans looked at the hairbrush in his hand like it was a snake. Off to the side, Papyrus covered his mouth with a hand and chuckled.

“The hairbrush will not attack you, Sans! At least I don’t think it will…! I know not everybody can be as amazing as me when it comes to being a master hair stylist, but really! Just try!”

The human giggled from where they sat on the floor in front of him, and Sans sighed. He had to admit—he’d been curious. Papyrus had taken to brushing the human’s hair and pulling it into new and outrageous styles almost immediately, with only a very brief learning curve at the beginning, and it looked fun.

So here they were. Because Papyrus noticed Sans's curiosity, and during their next movie night, picked Sans up and plopped him down in his own usual place, declaring that it was Sans’s turn to try.

But now that Sans was actually looking at the tangled mess in front of him, his curiosity was very much gone.

“tibia honest, this, uh, doesn’t seem like the best idea. you’re the stylist. why don’t you take over?”

Papyrus squared his shoulders and refused to budge. “No! You will never overcome challenges if you refuse to face them! As so! You must! Brush! Their! Hair!”

Papyrus let out a mischievous chuckle at Sans’s look of despair.

Ah well, looked like Sans was going to figure it out. After a few rough starts, he finally figured out what to do. The kiddo was a good sport about his first attempts, though Sans's SOUL twinged when they winced from his rough yanking. He wouldn’t try pulling it back—he would leave that to Papyrus—but brushing their hair was… oddly soothing.

Sans wouldn’t mind being stuck on hair duty again in the future.

###

Frisk sat cross-legged on the firm carpet in front of the couch, vibrating with excitement as Papyrus approached. There was a bounce in his step as he crouched down next to them and plopped a worn-looking box down on the floor. He let out a huff as he leaned back and admired it.

“Here we go! A 300 piece all white puzzle! Only the most skilled of puzzlers can solve it!” He shot Frisk a wink. “It’s a good thing we’ve got the two best puzzlers in the Underground here!”

Frisk peered at the box with determination burning in their eyes. They could do this!

.

.

.

Maybe they could do this.

Now that the puzzle was out of the box, it looked much more intimidating. Frisk rubbed their thumb over their knuckles on their other hand as they pursed their lips and squinted down at the jigsaw puzzle below them. They reached out a tentative hand and touched a piece.

*You think of separating the edges first.

That made sense! Frisk carefully set about pulling out the edge pieces and putting them off to the side, while Papyrus sat next to them as he hummed and put together pieces seemingly at random.

All SOULs in the room were content as they worked for several hours to finish the puzzle.

###

Sans shuffled through the wet snow, hands stuck in his pockets. The large purple door to the ruins loomed in front of him and he leaned forward. He pulled one of his hands out and rapped his knuckles sharply against the stone twice.

“knock knock.”

He waited. And then waited some more. Sans was a pretty patient guy. When a few long minutes passed with no response, he shrugged. She might not be here this week either.

Welp, no use wasting a good knock. Might as well practice. He pitched his voice up and answered himself.

“who’s there?”

He dropped his voice back down to its normal tone. “etch. etch who? bless you!”

He strained his metaphorical ears, and he would bet his left slipper it was a subdued giggle he heard through the door. Not the enthusiastic response he was used to, but he could work with it.

He reached forward and knocked. “knock knock.”

Again, he waited. When there wasn’t a response, he continued.

“who’s there? banana. banana who? knock knock. who’s there? banana.”

He heard a snort of laughter, and his grin widened. “banana who? knock knock. who’s there? banana. banana who? knock knock. who’s there? orange. orange who? orange you glad i didn’t say banana again?”

Yep, that was definitely laughter that he heard. Still not as upbeat as usual, though. He knocked again.

“knock knock.”

He waited for another beat, and his patience was rewarded when a quiet voice answered him.

“Who is there?”

“boo.”

He could hear the smile in her response. “Boo who?”

“aw, cheer up! why are you crying? ‘s just me.”

A quiet laugh. And then—

“Knock knock.”

He grinned. Success. “who’s there?”

“Spell.”

“spell who?”

“Well, if you insist! W. H. O.”

They both fell over into a fit of snorting laughter, and Sans took the chance to sit down and lean up against the door. He settled back into the easy comfort of bad jokes and good company.

It was nice to hear from her again. Her humor always tickled his funny bone.

~

"...call a fish with no eye? A fsh!"

There was a grin on Toriel's face for the first time in a couple of weeks as she listened to the low chuckle of her friend. It hadn't been easy to get up that morning, but she was glad she had. On the other side of the door she was leaning against, her friend's easy-going voice shot back his own response.

“that was a good one. i'm so telling that to undyne next time i see her. ...or maybe i'll have papyrus do it. she's less likely to skewer him. speaking of him, you wanna hear something funny that happened the other day?”

She always did. Things... were not always the most exciting in the ruins. “Do tell.”

“so papyrus was nagging me to be healthier and exercise more again a bit ago. he still hasn’t realized that my true form is that of a trash goblin.”

Toriel snickered and let more of the tension ease from her shoulders. “Oh?”

“yeah. so i said to him ‘you mean fitness? i’m pretty into fitness.’ the look on his face. maaaaan. i gotta give him some credit—he’s pretty good at spotting a set-up.”

“And what did you say next?”

She could hear a quiet thunk as her friend let his head fall back to hit the door.

“well, i pulled out a pizza. and i said ‘fitness whole pizza in my mouth!’”

Toriel laughed. “A whole pizza? Tell me you did not actually fit the whole pizza in your mouth?”

“‘course i did! gotta live up to my words and all that.”

A bit of Toriel’s merriment drained from her, and she swallowed. “Speaking of… I—I don’t suppose you saw a human come through here a couple of weeks ago? Were they—were they well?”

She listened and heard a quiet sigh. “yeah. like i said, gotta live up to my words right? i kept an eye on ‘em. they’ve been crashing at my place for about a week.”

Toriel sagged down, near boneless in relief. It wasn’t much—her friend had only promised not to hurt the child himself, and if they were as determined to get to the surface as they seemed, then it was inevitable that they would go up against Asgore. But it was something. They were still alive.

She heard fabric shifting on the other side of the door and then two more knocks.

“knock knock.”

If he wanted to move off of the topic, Toriel would not push it. She… wasn’t sure she had the strength to continue that conversation.

“Who is there?”

“cash.”

Oh! She had not heard that one before. “Cash who?”

“no thanks, i prefer almonds.”

She collapsed into a pile of mirthful giggles and allowed herself to fall back into the easy banter that kept her spirits up. Her friend readily obliged, and they ended up exchanging jokes and stories for hours.

Despite that, haunting images of small, still bodies and dusty lockets lurked in the back of her thoughts. They never truly left, but joking with her friend helped her forget.

###

“Human Frisk! Trust in me, The Great Papyrus, for I will remain right near you and catch you should you fall!”

Frisk clung to his gloved hands desperately. Nope. No way. They were not letting go.

They stuck their tongue out towards where Sans sat chuckling on the edge of the iced over lake as they scrabbled on the slick surface to remain steady. They preferred the ice puzzles where they could just go in one direction. They were way too unsteady on these skates!

Papyrus let them continue to cling to him as both brothers tried unsuccessfully to convince Frisk to let go, laughter shaking their bodies.

###

Sans watched with baffled amusement as Papyrus chased the giggling little human around the house with a feather in his hand, chanting.

“Sneeze! Sneeze!”

The kid darted behind Sans, burying their face in his jacket and muffling their laughter.

Papyrus skittered to a halt in front of Sans and stuck his hands behind his back, doing a poor job of hiding the feather. An expression of mock innocence that Sans had gotten very well acquainted with in Papyrus’s teenage years was on his face.

The taller skeleton reached out his empty hand and made a grabby motion.

“Brother! What a coincidence! You seem to have something that I am looking for!” He made a move to dart around Sans and grab the human.

Sans scooped the kid onto his shoulders and dodged his brother’s attempts.

Papyrus narrowed his sockets and lunged forward, all pretenses of innocence given up. “If you could! Just! Hand them over! That would be great!” He punctuated each of his sentences with another attempt to grab them.

The human patted at Sans’s skull and pointed off into the distance. The message was pretty clear. But hey, Sans couldn’t just walk off on Papyrus, could he? What kind of big brother would he be then?

“howzabout a trade? 500,000g for one bone-afide human.”

“NYEHHHH!” Papyrus barreled forward.

“huh? don’t you know a good deal when you hear one? well then, sorry papyrus. finder’s keepers.”

The kid laughed at Papyrus’s wordless shriek of rage and stuck their tongue out at him as Sans leisurely walked off, whistling a song and narrowly avoiding each grab his brother made for the kid.

###

*You take a deep breath. In. And out.

Frisk was fine. Totally and completely fine. Maybe their heart raced a bit, and maybe they clenched their hands so hard their fingernails bit into their skin. But they were okay. Better than okay! Still, when Sans let the gravity magic he’d been using to float the couch while he searched under it for something he lost sputter out, Frisk had to admit they felt a little better.

Magic was definitely cool! But… they still remembered with startling clarity what it felt like weighing them down. They weren’t exactly eager to repeat the process. So if they got a little anxious whenever they saw the brothers using magic, it was to be expected, right?

Soon enough, Frisk calmed down and the stress that lined their body relaxed when Sans came over and started joking with them. (And if Sans started using his magic a lot less around Frisk after that, he would swear it was completely unrelated.)

###

Frisk had noticed a bit of a pattern. Some days, Sans was more lazy than others. He would lounge on the couch, his clothes wouldn’t get washed unless Papyrus stole them, and he didn’t go out as much as he usually did.

He was just as friendly as always, laying back with an easy grin on his face, and he still managed to prank either them or Papyrus, but something about him just seemed… tired.

Today was one of those days and Frisk was determined to get to the bottom of it.

They stood at the end of the couch and looked intently at Sans’s snoozing form. Minutes passed. A bead of sweat appeared on Sans’s skull.

A few more minutes passed and Frisk didn’t budge. Finally, Sans cracked a socket open to peer at them, his smile twitching when he saw them still standing there.

“… i know it must be really interesting to watch a guy take a nap, but you sure you don’t have something else to do?”

Frisk shook their head and moved a step closer. Sans’s grin grew wider. “do i have something on my face? here gimme a second.”

He reached up and wiped at his face with his sleeve and made a show of looking at it. “huh, well whaddya know? looks like i’m missing something, actually.” He glanced up at Frisk and did a double take. “ah, hey. those are my glasses. i mustache you a question: mind handing them over?”

Confused, Frisk tilted their head and reached up to touch their own face. They weren’t sure when, but somehow they had gained a pair of Groucho-glasses, complete with nose and bushy mustache. They passed them to Sans, who put them in his inventory.

Sans caught their look. “what? can’t a guy have some spare glasses? oh wait. i get it. did you want ‘em? sorry kid, these have too much sentimental value. i got them at a buy one get one free sale.”

Frisk shook their head and scooted closer, sitting on the floor in front of Sans. He made a sound of realization. “oh, hey. this is your bed now, isn’t kid? sorry, did you want to take a nap?”

Frisk stopped Sans before he could get up.

*You realize this approach isn’t working.

Hmmmm, maybe they should just ask him? "Why do you sleep so much?”

Sans leaned back against the couch. “is that what this is about? heh, well that’s easy. haven’t you heard papyrus? i’m a lazybones.”

Frisk frowned. Something about that seemed wrong. They wondered—one of their foster parents used to take naps all day when he was sad. Sans didn’t seem sad, but maybe Frisk shouldn’t assume?

“Are you sad?”

Sans startled, before sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “straight to the point, aren’t you? heh, no i’m fine. i’m not sad, not much of anything really. don’t worry about me.”

Frisk wasn’t sure they believed him. Sans might not be sad, but he seemed like he might be having a Yuck Day. Frisk got those sometimes. They weren’t very fun.

“Can I help?”

Sans gave them a lazy grin. “aw kid, didn’t i say i was fine? nah, you go play. i’m just gonna finish taking a nap here.”

Frisk didn’t want to just leave him, but they also didn’t want to be a bother. When they stood up and turned around, Sans took that as the end of the conversation and laid back down. They weren’t done, though, and they made their way to the stash of puzzle books Papyrus encouraged them to use and grabbed one. They also grabbed the magazine they had seen Sans reading.

They made their way back to the couch and grabbed the blanket that was folded up on the floor next to it. Heedless of boney legs and feet, Frisk clambered up and made themself comfortable.

~

Sans watched with growing confusion as the human squeezed in between the couch and his legs. They tossed their blanket over the both of them and gently shoved the well-loved copy of Sports Cars Finest in his hands.

They weren’t done, and an amused and slightly strained grin crossed Sans’s face when they pulled a sticky cinnamon bunny out of their inventory and pushed it toward him with their tiny hands. He took it, and warmth stirred in the back of his SOUL—something normally reserved only for Papyrus.

Sans wasn’t actually a huge fan of sweets, but the kid valued food immensely. They acted like each item was the last thing they’d ever eat. Still, here they were—offering him one of their favorite treats.

They settled back down with a huff before looking at him and smiling widely. "I get Yuck Days too sometimes. It’s okay to be sad! Or not-sad. You don’t have to do anything. We can just sit here!”

They pulled out a pen and puzzle book, looking for all the world content to sit where they were while Sans napped his life away. And something deep in Sans's chest... shifted. Surely it was nothing.

Somehow, Sans found just enough energy to read his magazine. It felt like an accomplishment.

###

Alarm crept into Papyrus’s SOUL as he stared with wide sockets at the bone resting in the human’s hand. Oh stars, was that red stuff on it blood!? They… they had lost a tooth! What was he supposed to do!? Papyrus could fix a lot of injuries, but he couldn’t restore missing parts from scratch!

“It’s okay, human Frisk! Don’t panic! I will fix this!!!”

He was! Panicking! He tried to put the tooth back in place and despair filled him when it didn’t stick. What kind of responsible adult figure was he?

And why was the human laughing?!

They gently pushed him away from them and opened their mouth to show him something. To his mounting horror, there was another gap where they were missing a different tooth near the back! How had he not noticed this?!

“Is laughing at pain a human custom?!” He bit the tips of his gloved phalanges in confusion.

They shook their head at him. "No! Look closer!”

Papyrus did not want to look closer! Still, he did as they said and peered into their mouth once more. He squinted his sockets and then finally he noticed something. “Humans regrow bones!?”

The baby bones was laughing at him! "No! Only baby teeth!”

“What are these ‘baby teeth’ you speak of?”

This led to an attempt by a previously homeless (and therefore slightly lacking in the schooling department), eight-year-old human child to explain the concept of losing teeth. Papyrus did his best to follow along, but he had to admit, he got a bit lost.

"...and then the tooth fairy brings you money for your teeth! She’s never given me any, though."

Papyrus hummed in thought and stroked his chin. “I see! So this ‘Tooth Fairy’ gives you G in exchange for your old bones! Specifically, your teeth! Well, she may not have given you any before, but we shall try again tonight! I would like to meet this ‘Tooth Fairy’!”

"I don’t think she comes if anyone is awake.”

Papyrus furrowed his brow bone. “Well, that is rather creepy!”

Still, the tooth found its way under Frisk’s pillow that night. To both Frisk and Papyrus’s disappointment, it was still there the next morning.

Sans insisted they try again, though. “maybe she slept on the job last night. bet she’s a pretty busy lady.”

“Ugh, Sans, you are so lazy that you have infected Ms. Tooth Fairy with your inability to do work on time!”

Sans just shrugged in response.

Frisk agreed to try once more, though, and they carefully put the tooth under their pillow before drifting off to sleep.

Papyrus was on a mission now. He couldn’t stand the look of acceptance that had been on the baby bones’ face when they saw the tooth still there. Maybe Ms. Tooth Fairy didn’t want to come Underground and get stuck by the barrier. Papyrus couldn’t blame her. If that was the case, he would just have to assist her! He carefully crept down the stairs, a gold coin glinting in his hand.

When he peered into the living room, he stopped what he was doing. Sans was next to the human’s head, carefully setting them back down on the couch, a tooth in hand. Papyrus caught the shine of a gold coin before it disappeared under the pillow.

His older brother looked up and spotted Papyrus. His eyelights flicked down to the coin still in Papyrus’s hand before meeting his gaze. Slowly, Sans raised one phalange in front of his grin in a shushing manner, and shot Papyrus a wink.

A smile crept onto Papyrus’s face as something warm filled his chest. Sans had been distant with the human at first—treating them like he would a stranger—but that distance had been getting smaller with time. And along with that shrinking distance, Sans had been doing better than ever. That terrifying apathy that Papyrus felt over their bond was becoming less and less common.

Papyrus crept back into his room and slammed down on his bond with Sans. And then tears slipped down his face as he shoved a gloved hand in his mouth and muffled his sobs.

Sans... wasn't falling down anymore.

###

*Does your life need a little heat? A little glamor? MTT Glitter Spicy™ Soup can fix that! Consumption not actually recommended.

Frisk stood next to Sans and Papyrus as they gathered around a bubbling concoction on the stove. It was an alarming shade of red and glitter swirled within. Sans had picked up a can of MTT Glitter Spicy™ Soup for lunch after Papyrus had seen an ad for it on TV, and now they were all left to stare at the warmed up pot dubiously.

“i dunno if that’s actually edible… maybe we should just toss it out and make some sandwiches.” Sans poked at the liquid with a spoon half-heartedly.

Next to Frisk, Papyrus straightened up his spine and smiled widely, his grin twitching and strained.

“Nonsense, Sans! I’m sure it is fine and will indeed taste amazing!”

*Nothing can stop this heroic skeleton from pursuing his quest! Or MTT branded items.

Frisk just looked at the brothers and shrugged. They were certainly willing to try it at least once. After Papyrus filled up the bowls and passed them around, the table took a collective breath.

“bone appetite, i guess?”

Frisk took a bite at the same time as the others, and a small part of them noticed how color rushed to everyone’s faces. They were mostly distracted by the gritty spice that filled their mouth and made their eyes water, however.

“H-H-HOT!!!!”

Papyrus resembled a tea kettle as he made a mad dash for the fridge, tears running down his face and hands shaking as he poured himself a glass of milk. Deciding it wasn’t worth the wait, Sans had lodged his skull under the faucet in the sink, water cascading over and through his head. Frisk had tears and snot running down their red face, and they desperately wiped their tongue on their sleeve.

Thankfully, Papyrus had mercy and passed the milk around after he’d poured his own glass. After Frisk downed their own cup and rubbed the water from their eyes, they slumped next to Sans and Papyrus at the table.

Papyrus struggled for words for a second. “That… was very hot.”

Frisk perked up at that, energy recovered. They couldn’t pass that opportunity up.

"Not as hot as you!” They grinned widely at Papyrus and waggled their eyebrows as they shot him finger guns.

Sans burst out into laughter as Papyrus sputtered and let out an indignant screech as his eyes boggled. “NO! Bad human! You are much too young to be flirting!!!”

###

Sans paused on his way down the stairs and looked at the scene in front of him with fuzzy eyelights. Papyrus was bent over one of his advanced puzzle textbooks, animatedly trying to explain something to the kid, who slumped down at the table with glazed over eyes. Suddenly, they perked up and pointed out the window.

The snow was coming down rather heavily, and they were now trying to explain some idea to Papyrus. His brother was nodding along, and took out a piece of paper to sketch down what they were saying.

...The kid had grown on Sans. Anyone that made Papyrus that happy was good in his book. (They were family. And wasn't that a terrifying thought?)

###

Papyrus was quite certain the human hadn’t heard him when he came downstairs. They were quietly digging around in the cupboard, shoulders tense and gaze nervous as they looked for food.

Papyrus did his best not to startle them. The baby bones was still much too skinny, and while bones were certainly an admirable sight on a skeleton monster, Papyrus was pretty sure that Frisk should be filled out more like a fleshy monster. Nonetheless, the human would only eat when someone explicitly handed them food and told them they could.

Papyrus, and recently Sans, had been doing their best to give them snacks on top of meal times consistently, and they told them they were free to eat anything they wanted, and only to tell them if they were going to finish anything off, but the baby bones never appeared to take them up on the offer, not going anywhere near the kitchen when the skeletons were on the main floor.

However, they had been grabbing food from the cupboards when Sans and Papyrus weren’t nearby (or when they thought they weren’t). Small items that would be hard to spot missing if Papyrus was anyone other than himself.

Papyrus was going to turn around and disappear back upstairs for a rather convenient five minutes, but a sound clattered from the ceiling above them as Sans dropped something to the floor. Curses, Sans!

The baby bones threw a glance over their shoulder at the sound and did a double take when they spotted him.

They flinched violently and turned around. The granola bar they had been grabbing from the cupboard fell to their floor with a dull thud and they cowered back, half-covering their head with their arms.

Papyrus bit back his frown, and decided to continue into the kitchen since they had spotted him. He made sure to skirt around the little human and leave plenty of distance before opening the fridge.

He shot them a friendly smile over his shoulder. “Why hello! It is a wonderful time for a snack, isn’t it?”

When nothing happened, the human slowly uncurled themself and took a cautious step back, leaving the granola bar on the floor. They shot him a searching look and carefully nodded in response to his question.

Papyrus continued to smile at them and grabbed something at random from the fridge without really looking. He shrugged when he saw it was milk and poured himself a glass. He kept his hands busy and looked away from them as he poured it.

“Milk makes healthy bones, you know! Would you like a glass?”

He glanced over at them to see them slowly shake their head. His voice was loud and cheerful when he responded. “Well, if you change your mind, you are always welcome to it! Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen! If Sans or I are saving something for later, it will be clearly marked. Anything else is ‘fair game’!”

When they slowly nodded again and took another step back, Papyrus carefully placed his glass down and picked up the granola bar, keeping his posture unthreatening and loose. Despite this, they still tensed up when he took a step forward.

He paused and held out the granola bar, and kept his grin wide. “Whoopsie doopsie! Here! It looks like you dropped this!”

They carefully stepped forward, gaze flicking from his hand to his face as they tried to determine if he was tricking them. He didn’t move, doing his best to convey that this wasn’t a jape. No siree! Only honest skeletons here!

The human’s small hand reached out and nabbed it, before they darted back to a safe distance. They shoved it in their inventory and lifted a hand to sign.

”Thank you.”

Papyrus let them retreat and took another step back, still smiling widely. “You are welcome!”

They hurried back to the couch and stared at him intently. He busied himself with putting the milk back in the fridge.

Eventually they would be more comfortable here, Papyrus would make sure of it!

###

Frisk was getting used to how easily affectionate Sans and Papyrus were. Head pats were now a regular occurrence and cuddling on the couch as they read a book a nightly event. It was still strange to them, though.

Frisk wasn't used to people wanting to touch them just to show affection. Sometimes, before they had fallen, they’d seen families with parents that gave their kids rides on their shoulders, or hugs, or kisses on scraped knees. They never had that, even if they wanted it with a desperation that they wouldn’t admit to.

And now, Frisk didn’t want to break whatever dream they had to have been in.

Just as they were thinking about how affectionate the brothers were, Sans walked up to where they were sitting on the couch and slumped next to them, lazily ruffling their hair.

“seems like the perfect time for a nap and some tv. how about it, kiddo?”

It was at that moment that Papyrus came into the room, looking for Sans. “Sans, you lazybones! You haven’t recalibrated your puzzles in ages! You should be working on that or at your station right now!” He stamped his foot in emphasis.

“i am working. look.” Sans gestured at Frisk. “human. i’m supposed to be looking out for humans, soooooo…” He gave a helpless little shrug and grinned.

Papyrus huffed and crossed his arms. “NO, SANS! That is not an excuse to slack on your job! Come, we will all recalibrate your puzzles together!”

With that said, Papyrus proceeded over to the couch and scooped Frisk up, placing them on his shoulders before grabbing Sans under one of his arms and running out the door with the both of them. Laughter followed the trio before Papyrus’s plans were thwarted with a well-aimed projectile that started a snowball fight that lasted throughout the night.

###

Frisk glanced around the skeletons’ living room. They weren’t sure when it had gotten there, but…

*Standing in this welcoming home… It fills you with DETERMINATION.

They moved back from the new SAVE star. Maybe it appeared because of how long they had spent in the same area? (Or maybe it was because they were starting to not want to leave this place…) Regardless of the reason, they were grateful. They didn’t want Sans and Papyrus to forget anything. Just to be safe, Frisk made sure that they saved every night after the brothers went to bed.

###

Sans slumped into the booth at Grillby’s, poking Papyrus in the side. With a well-placed application of puppy-dog eyes Sans was pretty sure the kid wasn’t even doing intentionally, they’d successfully managed to drag Papyrus out for the night to eat dinner at the bar. And, of course, Sans slid a whoopee cushion under Papyrus’s seat. He had to. It was tradition.

He’d taken the chance to rib Papyrus a bit more, and Papyrus was having a grand old time scolding him, so Sans wasn't paying as much attention to the kid as normal, other than keeping half a socket on them to make sure they weren’t about to sign something. Sans had calmed down his antics when the food came around, though, and focused more on eating.

Across from him, the kiddo struggled to open up the salt shaker... somehow. And after a few seconds of trying to open it, they slid it to him with pleading eyes.

Sans let out a huff of laughter at their attempt before he took the cap off for them. They took the salt back gratefully and sprinkled some on their fries. The kid then passed the pepper over to Sans, and he grabbed it to help them without much thought.

This time, when he opened the cap, pepper burst out. It floated up into his skull and covered him, and sneezes wracked his body.

The bar fell silent.

Once Sans finished sneezing, he stared at Frisk in shock, with slowly dawning delight. He let out a snicker, and quickly he was laughing so hard he struggled to breathe as warmth filled his chest.

Like a spell had been broken, laughter and friendly jeers soon filled the air. Grillby crackled with delight behind the bar. Papyrus tried and failed to look stern, letting out his own laughter. Voices called out to Sans.

“They got you good Sansy!” “Serves you right!” “Looks like the prank master just got a rival!”

Papyrus had snuck out his phone to take a picture of a laughing Frisk and Sans covered in pepper.

Sans looked over at the wide grin on Frisk’s face and a tear welled up in his socket as his SOUL squeezed. He was so proud of his kid.

###

Papyrus sat at the desk in his room, a colored pencil hanging out of his mouth and his brow bone furrowed in concentration as he made a few more lines on his paper. He startled a bit when a hand gently patted at his arm and he glanced down at the baby bones to see them holding a piece of paper out to him.

“Oh Wowie! Is that for me Human Frisk? Thank you!” He looked at the paper to see a clumsily drawn (though still unbelievably handsome) skeleton striking a dashing pose labeled Papyrus, and another skeleton dozing off with little z’s hovering over their head labeled Sans. He loved it! But…

“I love it! But where are you, Human Frisk?”

They tilted their head to the side.

Papyrus looked at them for a moment longer, and the thought that maybe they still felt like they didn’t belong struck him. Well, that wouldn’t do!

“You should add yourself! Both Sans and I want you here!”

They gave a shy smile and took the paper back. Papyrus watched as they plopped back down with the rest of their supplies and picked up another crayon. Their tongue stuck out a bit in concentration and their little face scrunched up as they doodled on their art. And some restless part of Papyrus's SOUL quieted at the sight. The little human—no, Frisk—belonged with them. They fit into the skeleton brothers' family like a puzzle piece that had been missing.

It wasn't just about giving a friend and a child a home anymore, was it? And it wasn't even about seeing the HOPE return to Sans's SOUL. Papyrus needed Frisk there... for himself. And he wasn't sure when that had happened.

After some more time spent scribbling, Frisk brought the drawing back to Papyrus and presented it to him. They had squished a little drawing of themself holding out a thumbs up in the space between the two skeletons.

“It’s wonderful! Thank you... Frisk.” Papyrus beamed down at them, and they beamed right back up at him.

As soon as he could, Papyrus stuck the drawing in a picture frame and put it in a place of honor on the living room wall.

###

Papyrus asked if Frisk wanted to go with him today, and now there they were—hopping in each large footprint that Papyrus left behind as they followed him. He was doing his rounds patrolling Snowdin, and the snow piled much deeper in the woods than on the paths.

This was no obstacle for a strong skeleton of Papyrus’s stature, of course! But Frisk, on the other hand… Papyrus hid a smile behind a glove as he glanced back at them. The snow came up almost to their waist, and he watched as they wore an incredibly determined face and attempted to navigate the landscape.

Papyrus came to a stop and turned to face them. “Would you like some assistance, very small friend?”

Frisk stuck their tongue out at him for his comment but held up their arms to him, anyway. Papyrus took his cue and scooped them up to give them a piggyback ride, shoulders shaking as he tried to hide his amusement.

###

Sans gently pulled a blanket around Frisk’s shoulders. They had drifted off, leaning up against him while they read a book together. The kid’s reading skills were surprisingly okay considering the fact he was sure they hadn’t had much, if any, formal schooling.

He put the book off to the side, and let them lean their full weight back against him as he tried to make himself comfortable and prevent the magic in his legs from going numb. He leaned back too and listened as the radio continued to play in the background. He glanced over at where Papyrus was sitting at the table, diagrams strewn about as he designed another puzzle.

This was what contentment felt like. This was what family was.

Frisk still made a small part of Sans conflicted. But the more he got to know them, the less he understood how they could be responsible for the mess he had seen of the timeline. The kid couldn’t hurt a fly, so why were they fucking with time so badly? How could they be the reason it wouldn’t move forward in a straight line? Was it really all just... self-defense?

But that was a tiny part of Sans now. Time was still moving forward (though it’s not like he’d know if it was going sideways without looking at his machine). Frisk was clearly much happier than when he found them, and he couldn’t bring himself to worry overly much.

With Frisk next to him and Papyrus at the table, Sans was finally at peace. Not apathy—a true, restful, fulfilling peace.

This was right. This was Sans's family, and while there was an aching wound in his SOUL where his father’s familial bond was torn out and scattered, it didn’t hurt as much as it once did. He could feel Papyrus’s contentment through the bond, and if he focused hard enough, he could feel the stirrings of a new familial bond forming. It wasn’t a full one yet, weak and hesitating, as the kid’s SOUL tried to shield itself while still crying out for a family—but it was there, and the thought made Sans’s smile gentle.

Frisk had thoroughly burrowed their way into his and Papyrus’s SOULs, and Sans didn't have any complaints about that.

Chapter Text

Spears flew past Frisk’s head, narrowly missing them and landing somewhere in the distance. An armored figure flashed in the corner of their eye and they ran. Their muscles burned as they sprinted across the scorching ground, trying with all their might to outrun the shadow that could take one step for every three of Frisk’s.

They couldn’t breathe.

Each inhale they took bubbled liquid out of their lungs and they coughed and heat splattered out of their lips. They breathed in and no matter how much they needed air, all they sucked down was sharp metallic blood, the copper choking them. They reached down and there was a hole in their chest, radiating a pain so blindingly intense Frisk didn’t understand how they were still alive.

Hot, sticky blood was on their stomach, their arms, their chest. Blurred figures surrounded them, loomed over them, and their voices rang in Frisk’s ears.

“Fight me or leave!”

“I must capture you!!!”

“You know what would be more valuable to everyone? IF YOU WERE DEAD!!!”

Fire raced across their limbs, setting them alight and scorching them down past their skin and into their muscles. Magic bullets embedded themselves when Frisk wasn’t fast enough to dodge. Green magic froze them and they couldn’t move, desperately trying to block the incoming spears with the one clutched in their clammy grip until sharp magic tore through them.

Blue magic weighed them down. Bones tore through their skin, the force breaking their own. Something snapped in their leg. It splintered, setting their nerves aflame as they put on a smile and tried to ignore the white poking through the blood and out of their skin, desperately pleading with their opponent to Stop. Have mercy. Please!

.

.

.

Frisk jolted awake with a gasp and quickly stuffed their hand in their mouth to prevent a scream from escaping. Light flooded out of the kitchen, orange and warm like fire magic, and they scrambled to the floor to cower behind the arm of the couch, against the wall, and out of view. Muffled sobs escaped them, and all they could see was fire, spears, bones.

“Frisk?” A raspy voice came from right in front of them and Frisk opened their eyes to gaze up and they flinched back.

That armor, those bones, that face. No, please, Frisk didn’t want to FIGHT right now!

Their body was heavy, and they thrashed to escape the gravity magic that surrounded them. A lot less restrained than they thought they were, their head crashed against the wall behind them. Frisk held out their hands in front of them in a placating gesture and shook their head rapidly.

No, no no! Please, they didn’t want to FIGHT!

A gloved hand came near Frisk, and a sob tore out of their raw throat as they moved their arms up to cover their head. Nothing happened, and after a moment, they peered through their tear-filled eyes at the spot in front of them. Some of the tension left their body when there was no one there, and they buried their head in their knees and cried.

###

Papyrus didn’t know what to do. He’d been in the kitchen to grab a glass of water when a gasp and muffled crying had drawn his attention. Of course he went over to see what was wrong! And when he spotted Frisk cowering in the corner and trying to stifle sobs and gasps by biting their very soft and fleshy hand hard enough to drop their HP a tick, his SOUL stuttered before he rushed over to crouch in front of them.

Papyrus tried to be gentle when he called out to them, his normally loud voice a much softer tone as he lowered his case.

“Frisk?”

But then they opened their eyes, and when they saw him, they flinched back. It was like someone had sent a bullet with harmful intent straight into Papyrus's SOUL when they started thrashing and their skull crashed against the wall with a painful thump. They held their hands out in front of them and shook their head, and he reached out his magic and brushed it against them to perform a quick check.

*HP 17/20

*They had a nightmare.

Nightmares weren’t fun. Papyrus knew that from experience. But he wasn’t sure how to deal with someone else’s, and especially not when they were hurting themself because of it. The hit to their head took out a decent chunk of their HP, and a bump was forming.

Cautiously, Papyrus reached towards them as he talked. “Frisk, you’re hurt. It’s okay! It’s me, Papyrus. Please, let me heal you.”

He abruptly stopped his approach when they covered their head and bit through the soft flesh of their lip. The red, sticky fluid that filled them instead of dust—blood—welled up and coated their teeth and dripped down their chin.

*HP 16/20

Frisk was hurting themself. They were hurt and scared and bleeding, and so very, very small as they cowered away from him. Papyrus's magic thrummed anxiously through his bones as he took a step back, gaze firmly locked on Frisk’s tiny form. And then he took another step back. And another. And then he whirled around and bolted.

Sans could fix it. Sans would know what to do. He always did.

Papyrus's long strides swallowed the distance to Sans’s room as he ignored physics and vaulted up the air and over the banister before he skidded to a stop and pounded on the door. The wood creaked under the force he used.

There was a thump and a muffled “whaaa?” before Papyrus lost his patience and glanced around the space of the closed door and stepped through.

“Sans! It’s Frisk! Please, I don’t know what to do! They had a nightmare, and now they are hurting themself, and when I approach them they get worse!”

Sans's bleary gaze sharpened and he looked at Papyrus. “i’ve got it. thanks pap.”

Papyrus let out a breath, and his shoulders slumped when Sans took a shortcut. The magic humming through his bones became slightly less frantic when he took a few calming breaths and turned towards the door behind him.

Sans would be able to take care of this. He could help Frisk.

A bubble of inadequacy and hurt pushed its way into Papyrus’s SOUL, but he shoved it aside. Well. He may have been unable to comfort Frisk in their time of need, but he could at the very least prepare some cocoa for when they calmed down.

(The sight of Frisk's blood was a familiar one. And Papyrus was not going to think about that. Frisk had no reason to be scared of him. It was just the nightmare.)

###

Sans stepped through the rip in reality and landed in the living room. Immediately, quiet gasps and shuddering cries drew his attention to the slight form huddled next to the couch. Red, sticky blood, so foreign from the dust that made up monsters, dripped down Frisk's chin from a vicious bite to their lip.

Sans’s phalanges twitched, and his SOUL tightened in his chest despite it being far from the first time he'd seen Frisk covered in the gunk—in the past, he'd seen much more of it than the minuscule amount there now. Slowly, Sans took a step forward and did a check on them.

*HP 16/20

*They’re having a flashback.

Sans's SOUL grew even tighter, something strangling him as he forced a deep breath through his grin. He made sure to leave a good amount of space in between him and Frisk as he crouched down.

Sans knew how to deal with flashbacks, even if it had been almost a decade since he'd helped someone with one.

“frisk? frisk, i need you to look at me. it’s me, your friend sans. sans the skeleton. you’re at our house right now. you’ve been staying with us for a while. you’re safe here.”

He kept his tone even and low, repeating himself several times. Eventually, his words broke through to them, and they peered through tear-filled eyes at him.

“there ya go. i need you to listen to me, okay? you’re doing great. you’re at our house in snowdin. you’re safe here. can you look around?” Sans slowly reached down and patted the floor in front of him to bring their attention to it. “you’re safe, you’re at our home. can you feel the floor beneath you?”

He waited patiently, repeating his instructions a few more times until they flexed their toes against the ground and peered around the room. They were so small, their bones knobby as they pressed at the thin layer of skin stretching to cover them. The blood splashed on their lips was the same color as the hazy red eyes barely visible behind tear filled lashes, and their messy brown hair was tangled and flat from sleeping on it and their thrashing.

Sans had seen Frisk broken down and terrified before, but it was different now. And the tightness in Sans's chest grew as a sharp pain filled his SOUL.

“that’s good. you’re doing great, frisk. can you breathe with me?” Sans exaggerated his motions as he inhaled and exhaled, continuing to do so as they shakily followed along through their slowly calming cries. Part of him needed to do it for his own sake.

Once Frisk was focused on Sans, and their hands were unclenched, he continued. “that’s good, that’s great. you’re doing great, frisky. do you think you could do something for me? i need you to list five things you can see for me, please.”

Frisk took a deep, shuddering breath and flexed their fingers before slowly pointing to Sans. “You.”

Sans hummed, a noise he'd always used to encourage Papyrus. “that’s great. you’re doing awesome, kiddo. can you tell me four more things?”

Frisk took another moment, their eyes hazy through the thick tears on their lashes and face. "...TV… Couch. Stairs. Picture.”

“that’s good. you’re doing a good job. now can you tell me four things you can feel?”

Another few seconds went by as Frisk gathered themself and tried to answer the question. "Floor. Couch. Shirt. Wall.”

Air rushed past his teeth as Sans took a deep, steadying breath. “thank you. okay, how about three things you can hear?”

“Music. Floor creaking…” They stopped for a moment to listen. “An owl, outside.”

Sans smiled at them and sent a pulse of reassuring intent into the air. “okay, we’re almost done. you’re doing great. two things you can smell?”

Frisk took another deep, shuddering breath in. "Laundry detergent, chocolate.”

“only one more thing, kiddo. can you tell me one thing you can taste?”

Their face scrunched up, and they responded. “... Blood?”

Okay, that wasn’t the best thing to ask when their mouth was bleeding. But thankfully, Frisk's eyes were clearer now and the glassy sheen to them was gone even though tears still filled them. They hadn’t spiraled back into whatever they'd been seeing.

“you bit your lip, kiddo.”

They carefully touched their mouth and winced. Their shoulders shook, and they were still crying, but they weren’t panicking anymore. Some of the tension in Sans’s shoulders loosened as he scooched forward a bit and held out his hand tentatively, but the tightness in his chest only strangled him more.

“you did great kiddo. can i come closer? do you want a hug?”

Sans stayed still as he waited for a response. Frisk gave him a long look through their tears before they haltingly nodded their head. Permission granted, Sans inched forward and broadcasted his every move as he leaned towards them and scooped them into a hug.

The second they were in his arms, their small hands clutched desperately at the fabric of his shirt as they buried their face against him. Silent sobs shook their warm body, and Sans ran a hand down their back as he attempted to soothe them. He subtly tried to flood their body with healing magic. He wasn’t as good at it as Papyrus, but he could at least try to make sure they weren’t in any unnecessary pain.

Sans let out nonsensical soothing noises as he stroked their hair and filled the room with calming intent. He saw Papyrus out of the corner of his socket, hovering awkwardly by the kitchen, clutching mugs of freshly made cocoa in his gloved hands.

Sans looked back to the baby bones in his arms and ran his hand over their back, and the reassurance he hummed out was for both their sake and his own.

“it’s okay, you’re safe here.”

His words had the exact opposite effect of what he wanted.

Frisk tensed in his arms and clutched at his shirt even tighter for half a moment before they tore back so they could sign. Their face scrunched up, and there was terror in the lines of their eyes and the tilt of their mouth, the slant of their shoulders and the hunched way they stood like a frightened animal. Something visceral and raw filled them as tears poured down their cheeks and they rocked back and forth and shook their head frantically.

“No, I’m not! I’m not safe! I keep dying and dying and dying, and it hurts! It always hurts so bad and then nobody remembers anything and I have to do it again and I don’t know why! Don't tell me I'm safe when I'm not!"

The magic that fueled Sans’s SOUL stilled.

His eyelights flickered out, and that part of his SOUL that he'd started to think of as Frisk's burned.

That wasn’t—Sans didn’t—...

…Dying?

Nausea clawed at Sans, and rancid magic pushed behind his teeth as he took a short stuttering breath in and shoved down the urge to throw up.

Sans wished he didn’t have the context for this. He wanted to be able to write it off as just a nightmare, but he knew better. …It made a sickening amount of sense. Oh god. He knew Frisk was the one messing with the timeline, but he didn’t think it was because they were dying. And they… didn’t even know what was going on.

Sans was going to throw up. But Frisk was the most important thing right now.

He forced his eyelights to reappear, lest he scare Frisk, and grabbed them back into a desperate hug, clutching their small, fragile form to his chest. And that all consuming pain tightened when they flinched at the sudden movement, cowering back in preparation of being hit. Frisk was so tiny in Sans's arms. So delicate. A gust of wind could knock them over. How had he not realized?

His face was wet, and Sans realized he was crying. He screwed his sockets shut and tried to hide his tears, not wanting to make it worse for Frisk. A bout of inappropriate and hysterical laughter bubbled up in him, but he bit it back at the last second.

Turned out the anomaly didn’t need good food, bad laughs, and some nice friends to stop fucking with the timeline. They just needed everyone to stop murdering them.

Sans was in too deep now. Frisk wasn't the anomaly or the strange human anymore. He loved them. They were family. They were his kid, in the same way Papyrus was his. And maybe if he'd gotten his coccyx in gear before this, it wouldn't have taken him so long to see it.

He stroked Frisk’s hair clumsily and his next words were hoarse. The promise that left his teeth was intentional, and he'd be damned if he broke this one.

“i… i promise, i’ll do my best to keep you safe from here on out. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. you’re safe in this house. papyrus and i will keep you safe. you’re safe. you’re here. i’m here. i’m so sorry. you’re safe now.”

Frisk's breath hitched as he held them close, and cries shook their small body. Sans's grip on them was crushing, and it took everything he had to make sure he didn't hold them so tightly he'd hurt them.

They’d died. They’d died. Heh, Sans made a promise to keep them safe from here on out, but what good was it?

All the failed versions of him in timelines left behind stood back and let Frisk die because he “didn’t promise to keep them alive. Just to keep a socket on ‘em.” That he “wouldn’t hurt them himself.” He hated that he knew how he rationalized it. Did he even care at those points? Did those Sanses feel bad when they saw Frisk die? They had to have. He wasn’t that callous, that apathetic, was he?

Sans knew he was. Just a month ago, even after they'd taken Frisk in, if they'd died in front of him, he would have had a flash of relief, glad that his “problem” of an anomaly was taken care of.

And wasn't that hilarious? Sans had wanted them dead so his problems would stop, but the entire time them being dead was what caused his problems in the first place.

Frisk shook in his arms, and Sans couldn’t ignore the consequences anymore.

This was what he got for not caring. An eight-year-old child that he loved and cared for had been murdered. Repeatedly. This was fate’s idea of a joke, wasn’t it? If he’d just kept his promise to the door lady—the actual spirit of it, not just the letter—then he never would have had to worry about the anomaly in the first place.

Sans bit down on his upset. Bit down on the nausea and SOUL crushing horror. He grabbed his emotions and shoved them into a little ball and tossed them in a box, because right then he had to comfort Frisk. Frisk who… who had flashbacks. Of dying. Who didn’t feel safe. And could Sans blame them? He’d done a horrible job as a protector. For all they knew, it was them against the entire hateful world that wanted them dead.

Sans wished he had his jacket with him so he could pull it around their shoulders and let the ambient magic that had soaked into it comfort them, but it was laying up in his room. His SOUL reached out and released pulses of comforting magic, attempting to soothe Frisk in a way that was instinctual for monsters.

So much for not caring.

###

Sans’s arms were firm around Frisk as they broke down into gasping sobs. Magic thrummed in the air around them, but it wasn’t the scary kind. It felt like Sans. It felt like their very SOUL was being hugged by him. Frisk buried their face in his shirt, staining the material with tears, snot, and blood from their bitten lip, and breathed in the comforting scent of his laundry detergent and ketchup.

Sans said they were safe. Frisk wasn't. Not really. They were never safe, not even before they fell. Being here wasn’t safe. Papyrus wasn’t safe. Sans wasn’t safe either, even if he’d never hurt them. Because that could change. Almost everyone else down here had hurt them. Why would he be any different? Why would he keep them safe?

But, maybe, just for tonight, Frisk would let themself believe. Sitting here in Sans’s arms, they felt safe. They felt… cared for. Like maybe he actually would protect them. They soaked in the feeling of Sans’s strong arms wrapped around them and held onto him as they cried.

For tonight, Frisk would allow themself to have that comfort. Frisk would pretend like Sans was safe. Like Papyrus was safe. They would face reality when they had to, but not right now.

###

Papyrus didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t understand.

“—I’m not safe! I keep dying and dying and dying, and it hurts! It always hurts so bad and then nobody remembers anything and I have to do it again and I don’t know why! Don't tell me I'm safe when I'm not!"

What did Frisk mean? Was he reading their signs wrong? It had been ages since he was exposed to sign language regularly. But no, even if he was struggling to remember Sign, their intent was clear behind the message, and every monster knew how to read intent.

Maybe that was what their nightmare had been about. Yes, that made sense—Frisk was being hunted down and was dragged into various Encounters since they had fallen, and for such a small little thing, that would be terrifying. It would be more of a shock if they didn’t have any nightmares. Even so, that nightmare sounded particularly horrific. Dying over and over again and nobody remembering anything? It sounded like something out of a horror novel.

But a nightmare didn’t explain Sans’s reaction. Sans’s distress was screamed from his SOUL and down their bond as he grabbed Frisk to him desperately and didn't even to remember to mute their bond like he always did. Sans promised to do his best to protect Frisk. And he… apologized?

Papyrus didn’t understand. Yes, Frisk’s nightmare was awful, and Papyrus was very upset, too! Nobody should have to go through the things Frisk did, and seeing the baby bones so upset was enough reason to be distressed.

But Sans wasn’t just upset—he was distraught. Horrified. …Grieving? Papyrus hadn’t felt Sans this upset since their father had died.

Maybe Frisk’s nightmare reminded Sans of just how not safe a human was in the Underground. Papyrus… couldn’t blame him. But Frisk was safe now.

Because Sans was right. Frisk was safe in their house, and Papyrus would protect them. He would allow no harm to come to them under his care, and with both Sans and Papyrus looking out for them, nobody with negative intent would touch a hair on their head!

With those thoughts firmly in mind, Papyrus tried his best to send reassurance through his bond with Sans, hoping to comfort his brother as he, in turn, tried to comfort Frisk.

Papyrus wasn’t sure how long he stood there, awkwardly hovering by the entrance to the kitchen as Frisk and Sans calmed down. He’d made hot cocoa, and the heat from the mugs soaked through Papyrus’s gloves as he clutched them tightly to his chest.

He wanted to go and comfort Frisk. He wanted to be able to help calm them down like Sans had. But he hadn’t known what to do. (Something in the way they reacted to Papyrus versus how they reacted to Sans told him he wouldn’t have been able to calm them down regardless—they had been scared...of him. Papyrus shoved down the thought.)

Papyrus failed at helping them down from their panic like Sans, but he did know how to do one thing at least. He could make hot cocoa. Sans had always made him cocoa after he was upset or woke up from a nightmare. Sans picked up that habit from someone else.

So when Frisk’s cries died down to the occasional hiccup, and Sans had magicked away his tears like they’d never been there, Papyrus awkwardly ventured into the room, clutching the drinks in his hands. He sat tentatively next to the two on the floor and made a sound like he was clearing his throat. He held out one of the mugs, still trying to keep his voice down even if he’d returned to his normal case.

“I brought cocoa. I find it can be very comforting after a nightmare.”

Papyrus jolted, and was maybe, perhaps, just a bit surprised when Frisk grabbed their mug from him and placed it off to the side before they clambered into his lap and buried their face in his chestplate. They were still crying, but their tears were slow and quiet now. Papyrus didn’t let any amount of surprise stop him from reacting quickly, though.

He moved the two remaining mugs in his hands to the ground before he wrapped his arms around them and became acutely aware of his battle body. It was certainly not conducive to giving the best skeleton cuddles… He would have to consider changing out of it soon, at the very least, in the evenings.

Papyrus shifted his hold on Frisk and carefully scooped them into his arms. Sans had reached over and dragged the blanket off of the couch, and Papyrus wrapped them up in it as he cradled them close to his chest. Sans scooted over and leaned against his side.

Papyrus hummed quietly as he held Frisk and sent healing magic through their body, making sure to finish the job of healing their self-inflicted injuries that Sans had started. He buried his face in their hair and nuzzled against them, giving them the skeleton equivalent of a kiss.

“Sans is right, Frisk. From here on out, I, The Great Papyrus, will look out for you! You have nothing to fear. With my magnificent self, and Sans’s slightly less magnificent, but still magnificent self protecting you, you will be safe! I swear it!”

Frisk sighed quietly in his arms, and their tears slowed to a halt. Papyrus wasn’t sure how long they sat there, with Frisk cradled close to his SOUL and Sans a comforting weight against his side, but eventually they shifted. Reluctance dragged at his limbs when he gently readjusted them and placed them in between him and Sans.

He took the chance to push the magically hot cup of cocoa back into their hands, and they cupped it gratefully. Eventually, they drank the cocoa and their eyes drifted closed. Exhausted from earlier and absolutely swaddled in the positive intent that he and Sans were pushing towards them, it wasn’t long before they fell back asleep.

Papyrus and Sans exchanged a silent look over Frisk’s head. Careful not to wake them, Sans picked Frisk up and plopped down on the couch with them on his lap. He left a spot open for Papyrus next to him, and when Papyrus sat down, he shifted so that he was leaning against his side again.

They both settled in for a long night. Papyrus wouldn’t be getting any more sleep anyway, and he wasn't comfortable leaving Frisk alone. He didn’t even have to look at Sans to know his brother felt the same way.

Chapter Text

A new day dawned bright and early in the underground, and faux sunlight streamed into the living room. Sans grumbled quietly and shifted before he opened his sockets and stared at the ceiling, trying to blink away the lingering exhaustion.

He hadn’t thought that he would get much sleep after the previous night, but he’d drifted off at some point in the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t good sleep by any means, restless and ridden with dark thoughts in the snatches of time that he woke up, but it was sleep.

A look at the empty couch cushion next to him told him that Papyrus left a bit ago, but he wasn’t far. Sans flicked his eyelights up near the entrance of the kitchen. Papyrus's bond was muted like it often was as he stood by the table with his homework spread out in front of him, but he kept shooting Sans and Frisk surreptitious looks before he went back to his work in a clear display of worry. 

And Frisk. Frisk was dozing on his chest like they had that very first night they spent here, what felt like ages ago. But… wasn’t actually all that long ago, all things considered. One short month.

Sans’s SOUL clenched painfully as he looked at their tiny form. The blood was cleaned from their face (Papyrus must have wet a cloth and gently wiped it away when he got up earlier), and the desperate fear and tension that filled them just a handful of hours ago was gone. Their hair was a wild mess, and their face was pressed up against his ribs. Their mouth hung open, and quiet snores escaped them.

Their small hand wound up tightly in the fabric of his shirt. Like they didn’t want to let go.

Frisk had died.

Sans wasn’t sure if it would be better or worse if he’d forgotten it for a moment, but even if he wanted to, he couldn’t forget for a second what Frisk had said last night. Their panic and fear, and their flashbacks of dying. 

Sans wouldn’t let himself forget. He couldn’t. Frisk deserved that much. 

Frisk deserved so much more than what they were given. They’d fallen underground after clearly having led a hard life on the surface and then they were greeted with death. They were murdered. Over and over. That… that was torture, wasn’t it?

Sans’s SOUL stuttered, and he slammed down on his bond with Papyrus, remembering to mute it at the last moment like he hadn’t in the early hours of the morning. 

…Even if Frisk wasn’t killed. Even if they hadn’t died, they were still treated awfully down here. Sans had seen that. Monsters dragged them into violent Encounter after violent Encounter. They’d been grievously injured and bled that goopy red blood all over the place countless times as he watched. And then they stood up and ate something so that their injuries would disappear, only for the process to repeat. That was torture, too.

Their small little limbs had snapped like the branch he’d broken to scare them after they left the ruins. Blood, dark and red and metallic smelling, welled up from the gashes and wounds they accumulated from the bullets monsters attacked them with. He sat and watched as they dodged for their life. Dodged, not fought. Because even though monsters killed them, they never touched the FIGHT option once.

And because Sans watched their Encounters, because he’d been there when they fell to pieces before narrowly patching themself back up, Sans could imagine those aborted timelines they’d died in with a clarity he didn’t want. 

Frisk, so small and slight as they dodged and weaved through the attacks thrown at them. Missing. Slipping. And then their HP fell to zero as their broken body fell to the floor and dusted. Or no. Not dusted. Humans didn’t dust. Their body would lay there torn up and broken, blood and shattered bones poking through skin as their SOUL left them.

Nausea surged up in him at the image, and this time he couldn’t push it down. He had half a second where he did his best to let Frisk down gently on the couch before he took a shortcut straight to the trashcan and retched. He heaved as rancid magic forced its way out of him, coating his teeth and making his sockets water.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there as his SOUL rebelled at his upset, but not long after he’d hovered over the trashcan, Papyrus appeared. His brother put a gentle hand on Sans’s shoulder as he threw up.

“You aren’t getting sick again, are you?”

At least Sans had the foresight to mute his bond with Papyrus this morning. He didn’t want his brother to have to deal with the sheer emotional upset he was going through. He'd fucked up badly enough last night already.

When Sans’s body finally decided he’d expelled enough rancid magic, he shot Papyrus a wry grin and straightened up.

“ah, you know me. i’m always getting sick.… i just can’t stomach nightmares.”

Papyrus tightened his grip and gave him a scolding look.

“You are not ‘always getting sick,’ Sans! You haven’t since you were a baby bones and your magic was settling.” He softened a bit. “I won’t push you. But it’s okay to be not okay. I’m always here if you want to talk.”

“thanks, pap. you’re the best, you know that?”

Papyrus let go of him and took a step back. He shot Sans a blinding grin and a wink.

“Nyeh heh heh! I know! You’re pretty great yourself.”

…Sans wasn’t. He really, really wasn’t.

Sans’s SOUL roiled again, and he ducked his head. But he didn’t throw up this time, so instead he turned back in the direction of the living room. Papyrus joined him when he walked over to the entrance and peered in at the couch where Frisk was still dozing.

Papyrus’s voice was quiet when he spoke. “...They are going to be okay. We are here! We’ll keep them safe.”

Sans closed his sockets and leaned against the wall for a second. “...yeah.”

They would keep them safe now. But they hadn’t before. They’d only made things worse.  

Sans straightened up and did his best to shove down his horror and dread and self-hatred. He gave Papyrus an easy-going grin and gestured back at the kitchen.

“you hungry?”

Papyrus gave him a long look. “...Are you planning on cooking again?”

Sans dabbled, though Papyrus didn’t always enjoy what he came up with, but, eh. You win some; you lose some. Sans hadn't done much recently other than the pie fiasco, though. He just… hadn’t seen the point. Papyrus was an adult, and he enjoyed making his own food because of his lessons with Undyne. Take out from Grillby’s, and easy to make items like oatmeal and instant noodles were the staple now.

But Frisk wasn't an adult. They were a kid he was supposed to be taking care of, and Sans had been doing a shit enough job at that. They deserved so much more than what he’d given them. Things like safety and kindness, and for Sans to actually put some effort into taking care of them. Cooking a meal… was nothing compared to what he should have been doing this whole time, but it was a start.

And Papyrus... Sans had abandoned Papyrus to take care of Frisk by himself, floundering in the exact same way Sans never wanted for him. He was only 21, and he should have been able to rely on Sans, but Sans never actually stepped up to let him. Sans was a joke.

Sans shoved that aside and shrugged at Papyrus. “maybe. nothing fancy, though. i know my cooking isn’t as eggcellent as yours. my skills in the kitchen just aren’t what they’re cracked up to be.”

“You better clean up first. Or else you’re toast!"

Papyrus’s face twisted up into that grin he always wore when he knew he’d made a Sans-worthy pun. When he was looking for approval from him. Or… when he was trying to cheer up his lazy lump of an older brother that had never deserved him.

Even without their bond open, anxiety radiated from the tenseness of Papyrus's grin, and so Sans laughed. Sans laughed and grinned and went upstairs to clean up before he cooked, and he did his best to ignore the guilt and horror that gnawed at his SOUL.

###

Things settled back down. And it was… somewhat alarming. Or perhaps concerning was the word Papyrus was looking for? But Papyrus was used to this kind of behavior from Sans. Something would go wrong, Sans would be upset, and then nobody would ever guess that he was anything other than happy because he would clamp down on their bond and plaster on a big grin and make jokes.

But apparently Frisk was more like Sans than Papyrus had thought. And it was… not a good thing in this case.

Because everybody seemed more than content to ignore that last night had ever happened.

Sans had made breakfast. And then Frisk had woken up, and once Sans beckoned them over and handed them a plate with explicit permission to eat, they sat down at the table next to Papyrus. (They… still didn't eat anything unless they were told very specifically they could.) They ate their meal, and while they were a bit more skittish, perhaps a smidge more hesitant and cautious than normal, they quickly returned to their normal behavior. They gave absolutely no indication of their episode the previous night other than that.

They returned to normal so quickly that Papyrus wondered just how frequent these nightmares of theirs were. How often did they have these episodes and then just brush them off? If Papyrus hadn’t been there last night, would he have ever known?

Papyrus thought for a brief moment about bringing it up. But. It was clear neither Sans nor Frisk wanted to talk about it. (And the way Frisk cowered away from him last night… Papyrus clamped down on that line of thought and shoved it far, far away.) Yes. If neither of them wanted to talk, he wouldn’t pry. He would be there to listen if they did, though.

So Papyrus ignored it. He brushed aside his worries about Sans and Frisk, and he shoved down the bubbling insecurities over just how little he could help last night, and he grinned widely down at Frisk by his side at the table. He finished the last bite of food on his plate before he shot them a wink.

“Don’t tell Sans I said this, but this was actually rather good. This time. Nothing compared to my own culinary masterpieces, however!”

Frisk stared at him blankly for half a second in confusion, and then their eyes darted over to Sans’s chair to check if he was still there. He was, with a fond look on his face as he looked between Papyrus and Frisk.

Frisk looked back at Papyrus, and their eyes scrunched up at the corners and they giggled when they realized he was joking. Then they turned right back to Sans and gave him a solemn look.

"Papyrus said this was actually rather good.”

Sans raised a hand to his cheek and put on a very fake, bashful look. “awww, papyrus. you really think so?”

A scandalized gasp tore out of Papyrus and he placed his hand over his chest as he looked down at Frisk.

“Frisk! I trusted you!”

They laughed, and so did Sans, and Papyrus’s SOUL eased up from the tense knot it had been in.

It was after they had finished up eating that Papyrus collected the plates and silverware and took his time cleaning up. He was, perhaps, dragging his feet a bit as he did so.

He had training with Undyne today, after all. And while he very much enjoyed spending time with her! He… was reluctant to leave Sans and Frisk after last night. He knew Sans was still upset from the way he was actively muting their bond with a stranglehold, and while Frisk could be a bit more tricky to read, Papyrus was sure that they were not one hundred percent okay.

But. The last thing Papyrus needed was for Undyne to come check on him, and she would be worried if he canceled. If Undyne came to Snowdin…

Last night was a good reminder to Papyrus that Frisk was not safe down here. Those nightmares of theirs manifested for a reason. He still didn’t understand why exactly Sans’s reaction had been so severe, but Papyrus had his own sense of horror that welled up at the thought of Frisk being put in danger.

Nope! No, Frisk would be fine. Really, Undyne was sure to love the baby bones just as much as he did! Frisk’s friendship power was too overwhelming! As soon as they hung out, she was sure to be won over.

But. Maybe it would be best to wait just a little bit longer before introducing them.

Undyne was getting rather anxious at the missing human that was running around the Underground, after all. And when Undyne was anxious, she got… stabby. Papyrus would just wait until this all blew over! Undyne would forget that she was worried about a human in the Underground and that was when Papyrus would introduce them. 

Yes. It would all be fine. But until then, Papyrus couldn’t go canceling their training sessions. He would keep her away from Snowdin and Frisk just a bit longer.

###

Sans was acting kind of weird, and Frisk didn’t know if that had to do with last night.

He wasn’t super weird, but he was a bit more… hover-y? Stare-y? He kept looking at them. But he never brought up the previous night, and so Frisk wasn’t sure if it had actually happened. There was a good chance it was a dream. If it was, it was a much nicer dream than they normally had.

After Papyrus left, Sans stared at them for a really long time. But he shook it off and asked them what they wanted to do today while Papyrus was out.

“perfect time to set up some pranks,” he said.

Frisk grinned at him and agreed, and he winked at them. They followed him to his closet in his room where he stashed his glitter. And boy, was it a mess. It was way worse than the rest of his room, with towering stacks of boxes and containers, whoopee cushions, glitter, feathers, glue, socks, and all sorts of other random stuff shoved in with no rhyme or reason. It was a familiar echo of the abandoned home they'd been staying in right before they fell, though, this didn't smell bad and there was no garbage or rotting mice.

Sans pulled out a big container of glitter from near the front, and when he went to shut the door, the movement knocked something loose from the top shelf. A ball of yarn fell down and rolled over to Frisk’s feet.

*It’s a brightly colored ball of yarn. It brings up fond memories.

They leaned down to pick it up and stared at it. It was really soft, but it was also really old looking, the label crinkly and faded with age. They ran their fingers over the yarn, and their hands itched to hold a hook and make something with it.

Sans shuffled over to look down at what they were holding, and there was a funny look in his socket when he saw it. 

“i wonder how that got to the front of my closet. could have sworn it was further back.”

He brought his gaze up to Frisk’s face, and his sockets softened.

“heh. you like it. well, do you want it, kiddo? i dunno what to do with it, but it looks like you do.”

Frisk was never sure how Sans knew so much just from looking at them. But the offer was very generous and Frisk really wanted to take him up on it. Still…

"I can’t really make anything without a hook.”

Sans leaned forward and ruffled their hair, and Frisk leaned into the contact. 

“i’ve got some of those, too. here, give me a second.”

He stepped back towards the closet. And then he stopped and gave them a long, considering look. His grin fell slightly at the corners, but when Frisk blinked, he looked just as cheerful as ever.

*You wonder how Sans gets anything from the back of his closet. It’s too much of a mess to reach through normal means.

“i, uh, buried these pretty far back. luckily, i know a shortcut.”

Frisk really didn’t understand how he did it, but the next time they blinked, Sans was standing with an old basket in his hands. It was overflowing with several balls of yarn, and what looked like a half-made blanket along with a jar full of mismatched crochet hooks of different sizes and materials. Some had fat handles, some skinny, some were wood and some were metal. He stared down at it, and that funny look that he had when he saw the yarn was back.

His voice was quieter than normal when he said, “… they used to belong to my dad. heh, it’ll be nice to see them get some use. they’ve been sitting back there for years now.”

They… seemed really important to Sans. Frisk furrowed their brows.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to use them?”

Sans grinned at them, and something about him was… soft. He'd never looked at Frisk like that before.

“yeah, it’s more than okay. you keep these, frisky. you can do whatever you want with them.”

Frisky… Frisk’s heart made a funny rhythm and their eyes watered before they blinked back the tears. They loved their name. 'Frisk' was really, really important to them because they loved the person who gave it to them. Because they chose it. But being called Frisky… and while Sans was giving them something so important to him…

Maybe last night wasn’t a dream. Because Sans was doing a good job of making them feel more cared for than any real person ever had before.

Frisk barreled forward and wrapped their arms around Sans’s legs, and he chuckled quietly before he placed the basket on the ground and wrapped them up in a hug. Frisk melted into the contact, burying their face into his jacket and reveling in the warm, sturdy feeling of his arms that encompassed them. He was a lot bigger and taller than them, and it didn’t help that Frisk was really small for their age, so he had to crouch down low to hug them back.

Frisk didn’t hug Sans or Papyrus that often, not unless Sans or Papyrus started it. They didn’t want to scare them away or be too needy. Hugs were a great way to make friends! But they didn’t want to over-do it and risk being sent away. It was so, so nice when they got hugs, though. Frisk never wanted to let go.

Sans made a small sound above their head, like he was about to say something, but he stayed silent. He squeezed them a bit tighter, and Frisk was pretty sure they felt him shake.

And then there was a whisper, so quiet Frisk couldn’t make it out. Even the text that they normally saw was too small to read.

"...i’m sorry."

But when Frisk looked up, Sans had a grin on his face, and he looked just as cheerful as he always did. He gave them one last squeeze and drew back before he winked at them.

“papyrus’s door isn’t gonna glitter bucket itself. howzabout it, kiddo? wanna help me set it up?”

Frisk’s chest felt warm and kind of buzzy as they looked up at Sans and grinned widely.

“Okay!”

###

Frisk sat on the couch and clutched the cool metal of a crochet hook in their hand as they clumsily worked with a ball of yarn to finish the blanket that had been started. Frisk wasn't very fast, but when they looked closely at the half-finished piece, they realized they knew the stitches that were being used to make the blanket. So… they would try to complete it. 

Sans slumped next to them on the couch and there was a book laying across his lap. It was some kind of old textbook and Frisk scrunched up their nose at the big words scrawled across the page. 

He had a bottle of ketchup in one of his hands, and he took a long sip of it. The movement drew Frisk’s attention, and they zeroed in on it and narrowed their eyes.

Sans always drank that stuff. And it seemed gross, but it couldn’t be that bad if he liked it that much?

Sans caught their stare, and he slowly pulled the bottle away from his mouth before he addressed them.

“wanna try?”

A small chuckle left him and he shrugged when Frisk nodded and held a hand out. 

“wait, really? welp, you do you.”

He passed the ketchup over.

*It’s ketchup. It tastes like tomatoes, vinegar, and bad decisions. Made for putting on other foods.

Frisk looked at the bottle in their hand, and then cautiously poured a small amount into their mouth. Their face scrunched up reflexively, before it relaxed. Huh… it wasn’t as bad as they thought it would be. They’d definitely had worse.

They took a larger sip, before shrugging at Sans and passing him back the bottle. It wasn’t good, and they weren’t going to be picking it for their favorite thing to drink, but it was definitely edible.

Sans chuckled at their reaction and accepted his weird beverage and Frisk almost turned back to the project they had put down when a thought struck them.

Sans had been weird today. And even Papyrus was kind of… tense this morning. And it was Frisk's fault, because if last night hadn’t been a dream, then Frisk was a huge bother. (Sans and Papyrus hadn’t made it seem like they were a bother, though.)

But. Frisk had an idea to make things go back to normal. They were pretty sure they could make Sans laugh at least. And Papyrus would probably, hopefully, find it funny, too.

A smile twitched onto their face, and they turned back to Sans and got his attention.

They signed their idea to him, and a positively shit-eating grin spread across his face as he watched. He agreed, and soon they put the plan into motion.

###

Papyrus was almost back home. He had just finished up his cooking lesson with Undyne and was in desperate need of a shower.

She had shown… much more passion than usual. She was tense and fidgety the whole time. She was very stressed over the disappearance of the human, and the pulverized vegetables and crushed spoon she used to stir made that very clear.

Frisk had very thoroughly disappeared from her sights. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of them since he’d taken them in, and while Papyrus felt guilty over the stress he was causing her, he kept his mouth shut. Her mutters of violence and the way she pretended like the vegetables she destroyed with her fists were the human, were not very reassuring, after all.

They both still had a lot of fun, though! Undyne’s tension had melted into a passionate enthusiasm as they went on. (The spar that Papyrus egged her into hadn’t hurt.)

And so now Papyrus was on his way back home, and his mood lightened further when he got close enough to sense a muted sort of mischief from Sans through their mostly muffled bond. Papyrus was walking into a trap. Potentially several. But it was very nice to know Sans was feeling at least a little better than this morning. He was still subdued, and there was a strain of guilt that Sans was doing his best to hide, but at least he was feeling something positive.

Baby steps were important, after all! Not everyone could be as cheerful as Papyrus all the time. And Papyrus would take anything over the slow, apathetic descent into falling down that Sans had been in before they’d taken Frisk in. 

Papyrus took the last few steps to his front door and stomped the snow off of his boots. 

The handle turned underneath his glove and he called out, “I’m home! I know you must have dearly missed my presence, but there is no need to fret, for I am back now!”

He turned to the couch and stopped dead in his tracks.

Oh.

A horrible, awful sight was in front of him. It couldn’t be. No! Tears welled up in his sockets as he stumbled towards the couch. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“welcome home, bro.”

Sans gave him a lazy wave, a ketchup bottle resting in his other hand. Next to him, sitting in a mimicry of Sans’s pose, Frisk also waved. Papyrus’s gaze darted to the half-drunk bottle in their hand as they raised it to their mouth to take another sip. He thunked onto his backside when they grinned widely at him, ketchup smeared over their teeth.

It seemed he found the prank. A truly horrible prank, indeed.

… It was a prank, right? There were not suddenly two condiment drinkers in this house, right??!!

Papyrus did his best to recover and scrambled to his feet. He threw his hands in the air and gesticulated wildly as he marched over to Sans.

His voice was shrill when he exclaimed, “No! It can’t be! What have you done to our baby bones, Sans?!” He turned to look at Frisk with betrayal painted across his skull. “That is a habit you should not pick up! It is a very bad habit!!! It can’t really taste good?! There are plenty of better food choices around the house!!! That are! Actually food!!!”

Frisk grinned even wider, taking another sip before they put the ketchup down so they could sign. “It’s really good! My new favorite food!”

Papyrus swiveled his skull around to stare incredulously at Sans, who just offered a shrug. “what can i say? the kid’s got taste. you need to ketchup to our level, bro.”

Papyrus’s eyes boggled, and Frisk couldn’t keep their face straight anymore. They broke down into helpless little giggles, and signed, “How do you do that? You don’t even have eyes!” They turned to Sans. “How does he do that?!”

Sans managed to hold on to his straight face just long enough to turn to give jazz hands and intone, “maaaaagic.” 

He wasn’t able to hold out for long though, and soon he joined Frisk in their laughter, mirth crystal clear for Papyrus to see. 

A smile was twitching onto Papyrus’s despairing face when a small hand patted his arm reassuringly. “It’s okay, I don’t actually like it. Don’t worry, ketchup only belongs on other food for me!”

Papyrus finally let his smile break out onto his face, and he patted Frisk’s head. “SIGH, I see Sans has infected you with his love of bad jokes. I suppose I can’t complain, though. After all…” A triumphant look overtook his face. “I do relish in a clever jape!”

The resulting laughter lightened Papyrus’s SOUL, and he was happy to see that both Sans and Frisk seemed in better cheer themselves.

Chapter Text

Sans lounged on his mattress, half of his body sprawled on the floor and his slippers about to fall off as he held a book loosely in his hand. He’d balled his jacket up under his chin, and was doing his best to unwind for the evening and push aside any dark and intrusive thoughts. He was only somewhat succeeding.

The household had turned off its lights for the night. He’d read Frisk and Papyrus their nightly bedtime story, and he’d made sure Frisk was comfortably surrounded by pillows and blankets and soft things before they drifted to sleep. Even Papyrus had made his way to his room to go to bed, though it was more likely than not he was still up doing something else. But despite the fact that everything was as it should be, guilt still gnawed at Sans’s SOUL.

But he couldn’t change the past. And even Frisk’s time powers couldn’t erase what they’d gone through completely. No, they were forced to remember everything.

Stewing on his guilt and self-hatred wouldn’t help anyone, though. He wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself for letting Frisk go through what they did, but he needed to focus on helping them now. To help them heal from a trauma they never should have gone through.

Sans shoved down his thoughts further when there was a familiar knock on his bedroom door. He reached inwards towards his bond with Papyrus and focused. Papyrus was kinda anxious, a little worried, and a big old ball of stress. He was muting his emotions to some extent, burying them down like he had a habit of doing when he felt anything even remotely negative.

Well. Sans could probably help with that at least a little. What else was he good for, if not annoying his brother into amusement?

Sans looked up at the door. “who’s there?”

“Must we do this every time, Sans?” Papyrus’s muffled voice came through.

“must we do this every time sans who?”

“NYEH, Fine! Have it your way! Knock knock!”

Sans’s grin widened, and he called out, “that’s not a very good punchline.”

He could practically see Papyrus’s face glowing with anger in his mind. Before his brother decided to destroy his door in his frustration, he continued, “just kidding. who’s there?”

“Ima!”

“ima who?”

“Ima done with your shenanigans, Sans!” Papyrus’s voice was pitched high in his attempt to muffle his voice from his rage.

Sans let out a short guffaw of laughter, even as he swung the door open with a flick of magic.

“heh heh. good one, papyrus. come on in.”

Papyrus came into the room, his face twitching as he tried his best to hide his smile. Sans was mildly surprised to see that he had finally changed out of his battle body and into his bone patterned orange pajamas. His skull glimmered, the glitter bucket from earlier having done its job effectively. One shower wasn't enough to get rid of all of it, and Sans was sure glitter would be turning up for weeks to come.

Papyrus carefully made his way through the room before he perched on the end of Sans’s bed. His phalanges fiddled a loose thread on his sleeve.

“You really need to clean your room. What if we have guests?”

Sans leaned back against the wall, wordlessly inviting Papyrus to do the same. “i sure hope guests aren’t gonna be poking around in my room.” He fixed Papyrus with a worried look. “and uh, not that i don’t love spending time with you, but you don’t normally like coming in here. what’s up?”

Papyrus fidgeted some more, stalling tactics diverted. “I—” He hummed and broke off his sentence.

But Sans knew Papyrus. And even if he was shoving down his negative emotions, Sans could read the conflict and self-consciousness on his face. It only took half a second to put the clues together. Sans wasn’t the only one there last night. Even if Papyrus didn’t understand what Frisk meant, he was still the one that found them having a flashback in the first place. And he was the one that ran to get Sans, because when he tried to help it didn’t work.

Sans ventured a guess. “is it about last night?”

“Yes…” Papyrus trailed off. “I don’t…” His face screwed up in frustration as he struggled to find the words.

“How do you do it?”

“do what?”

“Everything. You… I know that I nag you, but you really are the best brother anyone could ever ask for. You helped raise me into the monster I am.” Papyrus lifted his gaze to Sans’s.

“You always seem to know what you’re doing. Meanwhile, I could only make things worse last night. How can I ever be half the big brother you are?”

What?

Sans swallowed thickly past the lump that rose up. He wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t expecting that at all. His words came out choked when he responded.

“did i really seem that put together? pap, i was an absolute mess. when you were a baby bones, we were hungry all the time. it wasn’t until dad took us in that you actually got to have a childhood. and then dad died, and i had no idea what i was doing.”

Papyrus’s sockets glazed over as he tried and failed to remember their dad. Sans shook his head and continued.

“you were confused and grieving too, and i spent so much of my time those first few years holed away in the lab, trying to do the impossible instead of being there for you. i couldn’t do anything right. and even now i've—what, left you floundering on your own when you needed help? needed me?”

Sans couldn’t do anything right then, and he couldn’t do anything right now. But apparently Papyrus didn’t agree.

“I suppose I was a bit lonely those first few years, but from what I remember you were actually around a lot more often than you had been before…” he trailed off before shaking his head and resuming his thought, “... something. You’ve been there for me my whole life. A few fumbled years hardly means anything!”

He didn't mention the way Sans had left him recently, and Sans huffed out a short, disbelieving laugh. Of course Papyrus would brush off how poorly he did those first few years as a guardian.

“a few fumbled years is everything. do you see my point, pap? when i was the same age as you, i was doing much worse of a job than you are now.”

“Sans, we both struggled immensely those first few years. I could see how hard you were trying. I still believe you did the best job you could have! You were an amazing guardian, and you are the best big brother! You're trying, and isn't that what matters?”

Sans stifled a sob before it could escape.

He had thought… he didn’t realize that Papyrus thought that highly of him. Why? Sans didn't deserve it. He'd never deserved the way Papyrus looked at him like he was the Angel themself when all he'd ever done was hurt him.

Sans couldn’t do anything right. He couldn’t save his dad or coworkers, he couldn’t raise his brother, he couldn’t even get himself together enough to protect a child from dying. But here Papyrus was, acting as if one of his greatest mistakes was nothing but a small note in history, something to be skimmed over.

Papyrus looked at Sans, tears glimmering in his own sockets.

“I suppose I’m feeling… inadequate. I had no idea what to do last night, and I’m pretty sure that I actually made it worse before I got you.” He reiterated his question. “How do you do it, Sans? I want to be a good big brother. I want to be as great as you.”

Fuck. How could he say that? How could he mean that? But he did. He really, really did. Papyrus was a terrible liar, and the earnest belief that Sans was good, that Sans hadn’t failed Papyrus at least, was etched into every line of his being.

Sans shook, and then he reached forward and pulled Papyrus down into a hug, the angle slightly awkward considering how much taller Papyrus was than him. Papyrus let himself be maneuvered, wrapping his arms around Sans. The shoulder of Sans’s shirt was getting wet from where Papyrus buried his face.

“i don’t know what i’m doing, and i didn’t when i raised you either. anybody that tells you they know what they’re doing is a liar. all you can do is your best, and your best is pretty damn good, pap. everything else comes with time.”

Sans held Papyrus close to him, and pushed waves of love and reassurance through their bond, and then he doubled down and filled the air with comforting intent. Papyrus clutched tighter to Sans and sent his own affection back. Something tense, a balled up insecurity that Sans had never questioned, loosened in his SOUL.

Papyrus let out a watery laugh. “Nyeh heh heh, I suppose my best is rather great, isn’t it? But Sans, if Frisk has another nightmare like that, what should I do?”

Sans closed his sockets and sighed, twisting his phalanges into the soft fabric of Papyrus’s night shirt.

“they were having a flashback last night. you wanna make sure you don’t touch ‘em if one happens. remind them where they are and who you are. don’t worry about repeating yourself. you remember that exercise i walked them through?”

Papyrus paused for a long moment before he nodded.

Sans continued, “try and walk them through that. it makes it so they’re focusing on the present.”

“I can do that.”

Sans didn’t let go of Papyrus. And Papyrus didn’t let go of Sans, either. Instead, they held onto each other, soaking in the comfort they both desperately needed. 

A memory suddenly hit Sans. He remembered how he used to come home from the lab in the early hours of the morning, grief-stricken and desperate, but too tired to continue working and needing to check on Papyrus. And Papyrus would often still be up, pacing the floor and trying to chase away nightmares he couldn’t understand and phantoms he didn’t remember. When Sans came in the door, Papyrus would latch on to him and demand his story. And Sans couldn’t say no. Could never say no to that one last remnant of their father that Papyrus remembered. He didn’t want to say no, even if he longed to be sitting next to Papyrus and listening to someone else read. Sans would easily admit that their nightly story was just as much for him as it was for Papyrus.

And after Sans read the story, he would sit next to Papyrus on either his bed or Papyrus’s own, and they would both drift off into fitful sleep, holding onto each other just to remind themselves that the other was still there. It was the only way they got any rest.

Maybe it was those memories that did it. Maybe it was the grief and guilt and horror that still sunk deep in Sans’s SOUL. It could have been the self-consciousness and upset that he felt from Papyrus. Most likely it was a combination of all of those, but Sans’s mouth moved before he even really thought.

“did you want to stay in here tonight?”

Papyrus let out a watery sounding scoff through his drying tears. “As if I could sleep in this pig-sty of a room! You don’t even have any sheets on your bed! But…”

His voice trailed off, and Sans filled in for him.

“do you want me to come sleep in your room for the night?”

Papyrus nodded his head against Sans’s shoulder, but it was several long moments more before they extracted themselves from their hug. When they finally got up, Sans picked up his comforter off the floor and followed Papyrus to the door. They paused in the hall on the way to Papyrus’s room and peered over the banister railing to see Frisk curled up in a ball on the couch, sleeping.

Sans might have messed up with Frisk. But… He could do better. Papyrus believed in him, after all.

###

In the days that followed, Frisk tried to put their rushed confession out of their head. They still had nightmares. A lot of them. And now, there was a large part of them that wanted to go to Sans or Papyrus afterwards. But they didn’t let that selfish want control them. They were pretty sure that Sans and Papyrus comforting them had actually happened by this point, but they couldn’t bring themself to bother either of them. Not when they didn’t know how they’d react again, considering how weird they got after the last one. And not when this was temporary.

Frisk had to leave eventually, after all. They just… wanted to take their time first. But they needed to stop getting attached. It would hurt all the more when they had to go. Homes weren’t permanent, not for Frisk. The only permanent thing they’d ever had was their imaginary friend.

But Frisk could wait for a sign, right? They didn’t have to leave right then. Sans and Papyrus hadn’t kicked them out yet, and while Frisk didn’t want to wait to leave until they forced them out, they were probably good to stay a little longer before that happened.

So Frisk settled back and did their best not to get even more attached.

But they would also try to enjoy what they were given. It wasn’t hard to do. Papyrus and Sans gave joy so freely.

*The snow outside has stopped falling. It’s soft and fluffy, and the perfect consistency for snowballs.

“Oh wowie! Look outside!”

Frisk joined Papyrus at the door where he was half hanging out as he admired the freshly fallen snow like it was the first time he’d seen it. When he saw Frisk next to him, he beamed widely and his joy and enthusiasm were so contagious that Frisk found themself grinning back just as wide.

“This is the perfect day to make snow sculptures! We’ll make a day of it! Let’s go get Sans!”

“you called?”

When Frisk turned around, Sans was slouched over in a chair by the table as if he’d been there for ages. But Frisk knew he wasn’t there just a second ago.

“Yes! No time for boondoggling, Sans! There is an adventure to be had!”

“hmm. adventure sure sounds like a lot of work. how ‘bout we just go play in the snow instead?”

Frisk giggled and rushed over to the table where Sans was sitting. He looked down at them, and with a quick wink, he bent over and picked them up before plopping them on his shoulders. A rush of giddy joy filled Frisk as they held onto his skull, and he stood up and walked toward the stairs.

Papyrus let out a quiet shriek. “The snow is that way, Sans! There! Right there! Through the very open and obvious front door!”

Sans’s shoulders shook in silent chuckles, but he kept a firm hold of Frisk when he responded to Papyrus. “oh. oops. musta gotten turned around.”

And then he spun on his heels and started walking towards the kitchen. Frisk was breathless with laughter as he brought them along for the ride.

“Sans!”

Sans finally stopped and turned towards Papyrus.

“i’m coming. i’m coming. you really need to chill out.”

Papyrus let out a groan, and Frisk giggled as they patted lightly at Sans’s skull.

“Must you?” Papyrus grumbled under his breath.

Sans took his time to make his way to the front door, and Papyrus bounced in place with a restless energy. Still, Papyrus waited (somewhat) patiently when Sans gently set Frisk back down on the ground and turned towards the shelf by the door. He grabbed a pair of gloves and a hat and wiggled his phalanges at Frisk.

“hands.”

Frisk swallowed down the warm fuzzies they got and pulled on the gloves once he handed them over. While they did that, Sans reached down and plopped the hat on their head, pulling it over their eyes. Giggles bubbled out of Frisk and they reached up to clumsily pull the hat up just enough to see. Sans was grinning down at them, and his eyelights were fuzzy around the edges.

Papyrus had moved away from the door and grabbed a scarf from the same shelf. He kneeled down next to Frisk and gently wrapped it around their neck and then he patted at their head. The second that was done, his impatience took over, and he scooped both Frisk and Sans into his arms and bolted for the door.

“Now let’s go! The snow won’t play with itself after all! And I need to fix my snow skeleton. I’m sure the snow has buried it! GASP!” Papyrus nearly skidded to a halt as he shifted to look at Frisk. “We can make a snow Frisk! And Sans can fix his snow lump into a proper snow skeleton, and we will have sculptures of all of us!”

Sans gave a little chuckle. “heh heh. skull-ptures.”

“I did not say that, Sans!”

…Frisk never wanted this to end.

###

The snow was cold and uncomfortable from where Flowey sat watching Chara play with the skeletons. He was bored. It had been ages since Chara went back to Snowdin, and they weren’t doing anything! They'd taken his power from him, and now they weren’t even doing anything with it.

He pouted. “This is getting boring, Chara. What are you even trying to do? …Why don’t we make things a bit more exciting?”

A grin spread across his face as he burrowed into the ground. He knew just what to do to make Chara play along again.

Chapter Text

The wet marshland squelched under Undyne’s boots as she stomped her way down the path, mud flying with every step. The low growl she was emitting was enough to keep any of Waterfall’s residents far away from her, and while Undyne felt bad about that on the one hand, on the other, she was too pissed off to care.

The human had disappeared. And she was furious with them. Furious with herself, too. They had been right under her face, and she let them get away. Ooooh, she just HAD to go and do the honorable thing, DIDN’T SHE? “Step forward when you’re ready”? Yeah, RIGHT. She never should have let them run off. They were a COWARD.

And now they were a missing coward.

Still. They hadn’t gone into Hotland yet—Undyne was sure of it. She would have heard of it if they did. They may have been able to dodge Alphys’s cameras until now, but there was no way to get that far without being spotted. And Alphys assured her that the human hadn’t passed that point.

No, they had to be holed up somewhere in Snowdin or Waterfall. Undyne would bet that they were somewhere in the vast forests of Snowdin Woods. The place was rife with thick trees and hidey-holes throughout the cave walls, and it would be easy to disappear.

She didn’t know what they were planning. Or if maybe they were using that human mind control to make monsters cover for them. But she did know one thing—if they wanted to get to the barrier, they would have to get past her. She would maintain her post at the exit of Waterfall, and she would stop them. She had to. Monsters were falling down, and the last human they needed was down there with them. She could give everyone their HOPE back. They needed that SOUL.

Something rustled up ahead.

The damp air of Waterfall brushed the back of her neck, and she shivered. What was that sound…?

Undyne kept walking, and the indistinguishable muttering she heard turned into frantic voices the closer she got to the patch of echo flowers along the side of the road.

“… Hurry! We need to get out of here! It’s not safe.”

“I am! I’m trying. We… we need to find Captain Undyne, right?”

“Yes! She can stop them. She has to be able to stop them. All that LV… the human is insane! They… they killed Cinnamon.”

Undyne froze, and her breath hitched. That couldn’t be right. But no, those voices, they were familiar. Undyne didn’t know them well, but she was pretty sure they belonged to some of Snowdin’s residents. The human… killed Cinnamon? Wasn’t… that one of the youngest bunny children?

What happened to the human’s goody-two-shoes shtick?

…

It had been a trap. It was a trap, and Undyne fell for it—hook, line, and sinker. And now her people were dead.

The echo flowers rustled in front of her, and for a second Undyne thought she saw one of Asgore’s golden flowers in the mix. But the next words that rose made her forget that completely.

“We need to get Undyne. I think… they were going after those skeletons next.”

Papyrus.

###

Papyrus hummed to himself as he washed the dishes, passing them to Frisk to dry when he was done. Sans made breakfast again. He’d been cooking more often since that day after Frisk’s flashback.

It was… nice. Papyrus’s spaghetti was still the superior choice, though. Even if it did taste horrible. But he had fun, and that was what mattered! Not to mention, Frisk loved his spaghetti for some odd reason, and Sans ate it too. Though, Papyrus would admit that he himself was probably the only one with tastebuds in this household, despite the fact that Frisk was the one with the actual tongue. That gremlin child ate anything, no matter how badly burned or undercooked it was, if he or Sans handed it to them.

And Sans was the one who often burnt or undercooked it in the first place. He tried his best! And Papyrus was very proud of him. (And… very relieved to see him doing something again.) But Sans would also eat anything, as evidenced by his… unique beverage choice.

So, yes. Meal times had certainly gotten more interesting, and spaghetti, instant meals, and Grillby’s were now rarer occurrences.

Papyrus finished washing the last plate, and then paused as he stared at the bubbles in the sink. A wide grin crossed his face as they swirled down the drain. And then, quick as a whip, he reached out and scooped a handful of the soapy bubbles and dropped them on Frisk’s head.

They sputtered and tried to smother their laugh to put on a cross expression. It was not very effective. They stomped their foot at his snickers in the same way Papyrus always did when Sans pulled a prank, and if he was even half as adorable as Frisk, he could see why Sans was so annoying.

Frisk reached up and attempted to catch the remaining bubbles on their head before they dissolved, and Papyrus gleefully took the chance to lean down and ruffle their hair with his wet phalanges. A small cry of outrage tore from their lips and they tried to fling what little soap they’d grabbed in his direction. Papyrus darted out of the way.

“Nyeh heh heh! You can’t catch me!” His sockets gleamed and Frisk’s eyes widened. “…Not if I catch you first!”

He reached behind him and grabbed another handful of bubbles. Frisk squealed and giggled, and then darted into the living room. Once they were there, they stopped and turned around to stick their tongue out at him. Papyrus let out a loud laugh and gave chase.

###

Papyrus.

Undyne had to get to Papyrus. He would take one look at a murderous human and try to smile them down or something equally ridiculous.

Undyne’s muscles burned as she forced herself to sprint faster. She’d dropped her helmet to the ground a long time ago, and she spared a thought to wonder if she should lose her armor too. It was slowing her down, and she needed to get to Papyrus. But no. Changing out of it would take too much time.

This was her fault. She’d shown the human honor. She’d given them a chance. But no more. She didn’t have time for honor now. If she hadn’t let them run away…! Cinnamon would still be alive. However many monsters they had dusted to get such a high LV would still be around. And Papyrus…!

Papyrus wouldn’t fight them. Not when he’d already let them go so long ago. And now her best friend was going to die if she wasn’t fast enough.

Snowdin rapidly approached her view, and she pushed herself harder, faster.

###

Papyrus shook the last bit of water off of himself as he carried a laundry basket upstairs and placed his gloves off to the side to dry. Thankfully, he’d dodged the worst of Frisk’s attack.

Frisk had somehow gotten a water balloon. Well. Papyrus knew how they’d gotten a water balloon—Sans was a blatant meddler who was definitely picking favorites. But Frisk’s shirt had gotten soaked in the process, and so after they changed back into their favorite sweater, Papyrus had decided it was time to do laundry.

Now Frisk was downstairs, and they were putting away the dishes that they could reach. Sans had headed out to his station to work for the day, and Papyrus was going to grab some of his smelly old clothes and wash them.

Papyrus’s SOUL twinged.

Faster than he could process, heavy, combative magic filled the air as it approached at a rapid pace. Familiar magic.

And then his door crashed open and his best friend’s voice echoed loudly through the house.

###

The world moved in slow motion as Undyne brought her leg up and kicked Papyrus’s door in.

“PAPYRUS, W—“

There. In the middle of Papyrus’s living room, standing straight up with wide eyes and shaking shoulders, was the human. Undyne's SOUL thrummed under her skin as she took in the scene in front of her.

The human had been heading towards the stairs that led to the upper landing where Papyrus stood, hands full with a basket of laundry.

She reacted in a flurry of motion, pulling the human into an Encounter. Focused on removing the threat, she paid no mind to Papyrus’s cry of, “Undyne, wait!”

Her magic crashed around her in an angry crescendo, and she glared at the little demon as they cowered in front of her. She would be taking the first turn this time, and she only had one chance to get them. She wasn’t going to waste it. She wasn’t going to play fair. Not with Papyrus’s life at risk.

She focused her magic down to a point and spears flashed in the air. With a vicious swipe of her arm, she sent them flying.

The human stumbled around the bullet box and did their best to dodge, but they weren’t nearly fast enough. They stood no chance against Undyne when she didn’t feel like playing by the rules.

The first one skimmed their cheek, drawing a line of blood, and the next tore a gash through their sweater. And then they tried to spin around and dodge the third, but they missed and it hit them right through their SOUL and square in their stomach, making a sickening sound when it slid through them. (Undyne did her best to shove down the nausea that rose. This demon didn’t deserve her sympathy.)

After that, they lost all the momentum of dodging, and the remaining spears landed solidly in their fleshy body as a choked gasp escaped them. There was… more blood than Undyne expected.

Her turn only lasted a couple of seconds at most, but it was long enough. Somehow, the human kept 1 HP, but it didn’t matter. The magic that made up her spears may have dissipated with the end of her turn, but the holes they left in the human still remained. With how much they were bleeding, they weren’t going anywhere or attacking anyone, and they certainly wouldn’t live for much longer. They were struggling to twitch a finger. Not even magic could help them now.

When it was their turn, they chose to flee, and the Encounter dropped.

They took a staggering step back. And then they fell to the ground. But before they could, Sans appeared next to them and caught them in his arms. Papyrus’s distress probably called him here. But why…?

“frisk!” His voice was a choked cry.

And then Papyrus was next to him, having jumped right over the banister into the living room in the few seconds that the entire Encounter took.

“No no no no!”

It didn’t surprise Undyne to see Papyrus crying.

But what did surprise her was how her laziest sentry passed the human over to Papyrus tenderly. Setting them on the floor in front of him so Papyrus could try to heal them.

And then he spun around and faced her, grin wide and eyelights missing as he advanced. 

“heya pal. Not cool.”

He took a rough grip of her SOUL with gravity magic and shoved her to the floor. The sharp angles of her armor cut into her in a way that was so uncomfortable it was almost painful, but Sans hadn’t started an Encounter, so she was forced to sit there.

She flexed her magic in an attempt to escape and glared at him, but his grip was ironclad, and his magic so thick and overpowering that nausea swirled in her stomach.

“so. we’re gonna sit over here and take a bit of a, heh, time out.” He let out a hysterical laugh that Undyne had never heard from him before. “and we’re both going to pray to anything that will listen that papyrus can heal them. capiche?”

Papyrus wouldn’t be able to heal them—he was safe. But now Undyne had a new problem.

She bared her teeth at Sans. Was this that human mind control she had heard about? She could grab the last SOUL in a moment—for now she had to figure out how to talk the rabid sentry down.

###

There was so much red.

It was blood.

Frisk’s blood.

Papyrus’s hands shook and his magic buzzed just under his bones. He stumbled over to where Frisk lay in Sans’s arms. That red stuff that was supposed to be inside of them very much not so. His face was wet, and it was kind of hard to breathe.

Why was it hard to breathe? He was okay. It was Frisk that was…

…That was struggling to breathe.

…

It was okay! They still had 1 HP left. He could fix this. He could.

It would be FINE!

A sickly sweet smell of rusting iron hung heavy in the air, thick and clinging to the inside of his skull. Papyrus bit down the bile that tried to escape.

He kneeled next to Frisk, and reached out to help Sans guide them to the floor, their arms so thin and small under his shaking grip. 1 HP. He had—he had to be careful. So careful. One wrong move and—

Papyrus tried to take a deep breath, but it was short and watery as he drowned in something he couldn't see.

Gently, oh so gently, he moved their hands from where they were instinctively clutching at their gaping wounds and replaced them with his own.

Their blood was hot and sticky and red. (Bright red. Frisk’s SOUL was red. Was that a premonition?) It covered his phalanges and metacarpals, stringing between his bones and seeping into his joints.

And then his SOUL stuttered, and a choked sound escaped him when he realized it wasn’t just blood under his hands. Bits of their insides were leaking out, dark and shiny.

… He didn’t know what to do.

He had to fix this, though. Clenching his teeth at Frisk’s cries, Papyrus did his best to maneuver their organs back into their body gently, mumbled apologies slipping from him. Every weak thump of their heart sent another rush of hot, sticky blood out of their body.

The moment he could, he flooded them with healing magic.

Green magic danced along their skin, racing down the lines of their wounds, and stitched them closed under the thick layer of red that coated them.

A cautious breath escaped him when the last of their injuries sealed up, and he clutched Frisk to his chest, not caring about the blood now covering the both of them. He ran a check, just to be safe.

*HP 1/20

Papyrus's SOUL dropped.

That couldn’t be right. He healed them!

(Sometimes, when a monster lost too much dust, they couldn’t be saved. They would fall down.) (But humans were strong, weren’t they? This wasn’t happening.)

Frantic energy filled him and his SOUL thrummed rapidly in his rib cage as he renewed his efforts to heal them. His magic sunk into their body and SOUL, barely latching on.

*HP .1/20

NO! No no no NO! This couldn’t happen! Not when Papyrus just found them! Not when he had promised to protect them and raise them and be the best big brother he could be!

His shoulders shook as he reached for their SOUL with his magic and began pouring everything he could into them. Green surrounded red, cradled it and kept it together.

It strained just to accomplish that.

*HP .01/20

Please. Oh stars, please. His magic hummed through his bones with wild desperation, and he forced it to do more. Do something. ANYTHING!

Something snapped into place as he filled their very being with his magic, and suddenly he could feel them. He could feel their pain as it encompassed their body, and their SOUL-deep exhaustion. They were tired. So very tired. He could feel their desire to comfort him. Their worry and concern for him.

Their magic threaded along his SOUL, determination sinking into his being.

The SOUL bond that had been building finalized.

Papyrus’s vision blurred and tears wet his face, sticky and warm. His shoulders heaved and he struggled to breathe, soundless sobs wracking his body. This couldn’t be happening. They had to be okay.

They… they were smiling and laughing and playing together not even ten minutes ago.

His arms shook as he clutched them to himself, tension and desperation lining his spine. Blood smeared across his chest plate and soaked into his scarf.

“You are going to be okay. It will all be okay! I’ll heal you and you’ll get better and it will be like none of this ever happened!” Papyrus mumbled under his breath, gaze unfocused as he drained himself of magic trying to heal them.

A gentle hand patting his cheek forced him to meet Frisk’s tired gaze. They curled their tiny little fingers against his skull, and oh. They cared about him so much.

They didn’t have the strength to sign, but they didn’t need to. He could feel what they wanted through their newly formed SOUL bond. It’s okay. You can stop now.

They grinned up at him.

He shook his head desperately into their hair, ignoring the weakness creeping into him from the massive amounts of magic he was outputting to keep them stable.

Another sob escaped him, and his whole body shuddered. He could feel it—they were determined to stop him from hurting himself. There was nothing he could do as they used the last of their strength to pry their SOUL from his magic.

...

Crack.

Papyrus couldn’t tear his sockets away as the brilliant ruby red SOUL that had been hovering in front of Frisk split in half. Almost like it was made of glass, the two remaining pieces shattered.

Papyrus looked down at the body still in his arms, and the scent of blood was thick in the air and overpowering. The constant thump, thump of their heart was gone. Their chest didn’t rise and fall.

Nausea crept up behind his teeth.

Maybe… maybe he had saved them? Their body was right there. They weren’t dust. He could feel them in his arms. He was still holding them! They were fine!

They were just… taking a nap! Honestly, of all the times to take after Sans.

He shook them gently. “Frisk. Frisk, wake up. It’s not the time for a nap!”

Sans let Undyne free from the magic he’d been holding her in and, oh, when had he done that? He approached where Papyrus was cradling Frisk on the floor.

“papyrus…”

Papyrus ignored him and shook them harder. Blood had soaked so thoroughly into his bones that he wasn’t sure it would ever wash out.

“Wake up, Frisk! Now is not the time to be acting like our lazy older brother!”

But nobody came.

There was a hole in Papyrus's SOUL where a bond had formed only to be torn away moments later, but he could swear there was still something there! They couldn’t be gone. They… they were going to get up to more shenanigans with Sans. Papyrus was going to help them make their first puzzle. He was going to watch them grow up.

“NO! WAKE UP!” He rocked them back and forth in his arms, cradling them like the child they were. His child. “Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up! Frisk, wake up!”

Sans reached out and his cool hand wrapped around the bones of Papyrus’s arm.

“papyrus. papyrus, stop.”

No. No no no no no. Papyrus tried to hold them closer to himself, but Sans had a firm grasp of him, and he wrenched him away.

“Papyrus! …they’re gone.”

Papyrus loosened his grip, and numbly, he watched as Sans pulled them away and placed them on the floor in front of him.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. His child wasn’t supposed to be murdered by his best friend.

His head snapped up at Undyne’s frantic approach. She threw her gaze around wildly, as if that would make what she was looking for appear.

“Where did it go?! Where’s the SOUL?! It couldn’t have shattered!”

Papyrus’s joints creaked as he slowly bent down and pressed his teeth to the top of Frisk’s head and closed his sockets for half a second. And then he stood up and looked at Undyne with a blank expression.

“It doesn’t matter.”

She whirled around to look at him incredulously, “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?! Papyrus, that’s the last SOUL we nee-”

Papyrus cut her off. “It. Doesn’t. Matter.”

He ground his teeth together and narrowed his sockets through a blurry layer of tears.

“You killed them! You killed my child!”

Undyne stilled. And then she glared right back at Papyrus.

“What do you mean your child!? Papyrus, they hurt people! They were going to hurt you!”

Papyrus took a step towards Undyne, tension filling his body. He clenched his fists so tightly it hurt, and the sticky, horrible, awful feeling of Frisk’s blood was still covering his phalanges. He tasted it from where he kissed their head.

His magic thrashed around him, barely contained from the tight grip he normally kept on it, and Undyne took a small step back, a wary look in her eye.

He took another step forward.

“They never hurt anyone, and they certainly weren’t going to hurt me! They are a CHILD! They are eight! They didn’t have a speck of EXP or dust on their hands, despite everyone attacking them from the moment they fell down here! And you KILLED THEM!”

Papyrus faltered with his approach and looked back at the body of his little sibling still warm on the floor. Sans sat next to them, petting their head with tears in his sockets and rising anxiety in his SOUL as he mumbled quiet words to them. Papyrus didn’t understand why.

They were gone, and neither brother could change that.

“Leave." His voice broke.

Undyne looked at Papyrus, hesitance and regret etched into her features. “Papyrus I-”

“LEAVE, UNDYNE!” He roared at her.

She turned around and left for the broken door frame. She gave him one last lingering look before she went through.

Once she was out of sight, Papyrus staggered over to Sans and let himself fall to the floor. He stared numbly at the body on the ground, grieving the family that hadn’t even had a real chance to be formed.

*

*

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*FILE LOADED

Chapter Text

Phantom pain shot through Frisk, echoing the injuries that they died from. They gritted their teeth and blinked at the SAVE star hovering in front of them in Sans and Papyrus’s living room, and they retreated to the couch to sit for a moment.

Nobody had ever tried to save them before. Every time Frisk died down here, they’d been on their own with no help. Sans… He'd been around at least a couple of times that they died. And he never did anything then. Why was he upset this time? Why did he catch them? Why did he give them to Papyrus?

Frisk's breath hitched. 

...Why did he care?

And Papyrus…

Frisk didn’t understand.

Papyrus cared about them. Something deep in them told them he… loved them? Somehow, Frisk felt like they knew exactly what Papyrus was feeling right before they died. And… maybe Frisk was imagining it. Maybe it was just them being stupid and greedy. But it really felt like he loved them. That he was upset that they were dying.

Nobody was ever sad that they died.

That silly, stupid, imagined feeling of being loved hadn’t gone away yet.

Frisk blinked at the tears that pooled in their eyes and roughly tried to rub them away with their fist. A tiny smile crept on their face despite that.

Papyrus tried to save them. He tried to save them so much that he was hurting himself, though Frisk wasn’t sure how they knew that. Warmth crept up in Frisk's chest, a lightness they'd never felt before releasing a chain that had been wrapped around their chest. Frisk… wasn’t happy that Papyrus had been upset. But. He tried to save them.

Frisk did their best to let him know it would be okay, and that they would be fine. When he didn’t understand, Frisk had somehow pulled their SOUL away from his magic’s grip so he wouldn’t keep going.

A small sob slipped out of Frisk’s lips and they shoved their hand in their mouth and bit down hard so that they wouldn’t wake up Sans and Papyrus. For once, Frisk was glad no one would remember what happened. They didn’t want Papyrus to be sad.

 …They didn’t want him to have to go through that again, even if he forgot.

It was enough to know that he cared about them. 

Their shoulders shook. Frisk did their best to cry quietly until the hurt in their body faded and the memories of sharp, pointy spears weren’t so fresh in their mind. But those memories were replaced by something else.

Why did Papyrus care?

…How long would he care?

Frisk had been cared about before. They'd had homes that were supposed to last, and distracted adults that ruffled their hair and took care of them. Their last home before they'd run was supposed to be the one. But he gave them away anyway.

None of it ever lasted.

Frisk always messed up somehow. They’d stick around, and eventually that care would fade. And then they would be sent away.

Frisk bit their lip and ignored how it wobbled as they climbed to their feet.

…This wasn’t permanent, and it never had been. Just because Papyrus cared didn’t mean that he wanted to keep them. Maybe for now, maybe for a bit longer, but that would change. It wouldn’t stay, and now it would hurt all the more when he got rid of them.

Frisk didn’t have a home, even if Sans and Papyrus had been nice enough to share for a little bit. It was about time they remembered that.

Frisk felt like they were swimming through syrup as they grabbed their clothes from where they sat folded up next to the couch. They slowly changed out of the pajamas that Sans and Papyrus let them borrow. 

They had to go.

Undyne busting in was the message they’d been waiting for. They knew they were getting too comfy, but they hadn’t wanted to leave yet. Well, that was one heck of a wake up call and Frisk knew that meant it was time to move on. It was what Frisk always did—when did that change? They left Toriel just like they left the same stupid system of rotating families that would give them up. Now they would leave Sans and Papyrus, too.

The thought made Frisk feel like they were dying all over again.

Their movements were clunky and slow as they folded up their borrowed clothes and placed them on the couch next to the blanket they used. They trailed their fingers over the soft material.

*Your pajamas and blanket. The material is soft and warm, and you want to go to sleep.

They weren’t Frisk’s. They were Sans and Papyrus’s, and Frisk was just borrowing them. And now they had to go before Sans and Papyrus woke up, and Frisk was tempted into staying longer. They had to leave before they were kicked out.

Just the thought of Papyrus and Sans telling them they had to go… that they weren’t welcome anymore… Frisk couldn't do it.

But they didn’t want to just leave. So they dragged their feet as they walked over to the drawer that Papyrus kept the sticky notes and pens in. They pulled a note free from the stack and carefully wrote out “thank u!” with their very best handwriting, even if it came out wobbly. They clutched the note tightly in their hand as they doodled a little image of their face, and it crumpled slightly.

A tear slid off their cheek and splashed onto the paper, and Frisk tried to brush it off, but they only smeared the ink worse. Their chest hurt. Frisk had to glance down and make sure there wasn’t another spear sticking out of them again.

They bit their lip so hard that they tasted blood, and they tried to ignore the way they screwed their face up and how tears and snot were dripping down their face. They let a shaky breath out and placed the crumpled note on top of the folded clothes, and did their best to smooth it out.

And then, as quietly as they could, Frisk headed for the front door, sending one last lingering look over their shoulder before they turned away and ignored the ache in their chest. 

*You think of the skeletons sleeping upstairs. Maybe they could help if you asked?

What a silly thought. Frisk shook their head and closed the door behind them. Frisk didn’t need help.

Their grip tightened on the handle, and the cold metal stung their hand, but Frisk didn’t draw back for at least a whole minute.

Frisk had to get back to the surface now. They’d stayed way too long, and Papyrus and Sans had been too nice to tell them they should have gotten lost a long time ago. And Frisk was sure Mr. Angel was waiting for them anxiously outside the barrier.

(They ignored the memory that popped up. "Please, Frisk.” He would beg them. "Give the grown-ups another chance. It’s not safe for you out here. You’ll find a home. You’ll find a family, eventually.” …Frisk hadn’t found a family. Not for keeps.)

Shivering in the cold night air, Frisk picked their way through Snowdin and froze their heart. They would get past Waterfall this time.

###

Papyrus woke up in a cold sweat as he bolted to an upright position. He stared blankly at the covers in front of him. And then he twisted his gloved hands into the fabric so tightly it was on the verge of tearing.

There was blood caking his joints.

His SOUL was aching and raw, and tears filled his sockets. When had he fallen asleep…?  

How could he possibly fall asleep when Frisk was dead?

It hurt. He felt empty, and his SOUL—

His SOUL.

Still had a bond attached to it.

A new one.

Papyrus sucked in a deep gasp and scrambled out of bed. He—he felt them! He could feel them! Frisk was alive. His baby bones was alive. His child, his baby. The bond was… muted. As if they were far away. But it was still there, and their life and magic thrummed through it. 

How?! What was going on?!

And… Papyrus was wearing his gloves. His gloves that had been soaking wet and hung up to dry.

There was no blood.

His sockets widened, and he glanced at his alarm clock and calendar. It… was earlier in the same day. Had it been a nightmare? But Papyrus always knew when he was having a nightmare. And he had a bond with Frisk. (Frisk was alive. They were alive, alive, ALIVE.) He wouldn’t have a bond with Frisk if it was just a nightmare.

That wasn’t how bonds worked. There needed to be a transfer of magic for it to finalize. No, what happened was real. Papyrus knew it. He… couldn’t have imagined that. But how?

Papyrus tore open his door and bolted downstairs, ignoring the sinking in his SOUL that told him Frisk was already far, far away.

And then he remembered.

“—I’m not safe! I keep dying and dying and dying, and it hurts! It always hurts so bad and then nobody remembers anything and I have to do it again and I don’t know why! Don't tell me I'm safe when I'm not!"

Papyrus didn’t bother with the stairs and jumped over the banister to land in the living room below. (Like he had before. When he was too slow. Too slow to save Frisk.)

Sans had apologized when they said that. He had grieved.

Papyrus picked up the crumpled note, tear stained and placed carefully on a stack of folded clothes, abandoned there hours ago. His own tears splashed onto the paper and his SOUL screamed. He screamed too.

“SANS!”

Papyrus hadn’t understood at the time, had thought Frisk just had a nightmare. But… 

It was real. He had a second chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it.

###

It was really early, and Frisk was really tired since they hadn’t gotten any sleep. But they made their way through the damp air of Waterfall, anyway.

They waved bye to a Moldbygg as it left, and then they flexed their fingers and took their old bandage out of their inventory, wrapping it around the cut on their leg. They’d had a few Encounters on their trip through Waterfall, but they didn’t want to waste their healing items, just in case.

On one hand, Frisk was kinda outta practice with Encounters. But on the other, even though they were tired, they had an easier time dodging than they had before. They were still skinny and weak and hungry, but they felt like they were maybe a bit stronger.

Frisk continued their walk through Waterfall and tried to stay determined. They had to get back to the surface. They had to stop thinking about Sans and Papyrus and how all they wanted was to go back and curl up in their arms. They were a big kid. They were strong. Frisk had gone their whole life without them, and they could do it again.

Frisk dragged their feet through the last stretch of Waterfall, crossing the bridge that Monster Kid had almost fallen off of. The entrance to Hotland loomed in front of them. A sinking feeling filled Frisk’s SOUL as they glanced up.

There was a familiar shape standing on top.

Frisk’s heart raced, and their skin was clammy and hurt. But she’d spotted them.

Of course. Frisk never did have good luck. Somehow, Undyne was always at this entrance. Frisk probably hadn’t waited long enough for her to be gone, looking for them in Snowdin. 

They took a step back. She stood up and growled so loudly Frisk heard her from all the way back where they were standing. When Frisk stopped, she quieted down. And then her voice echoed, her teeth gritted together.

“I. Will. Chase. You. You aren’t getting away again!”

Frisk closed their eyes and took a deep breath. They stepped forward, and she loomed over them, waiting for them to go forward. Slowly, they crossed the small bridge to stand in front of the cave that Undyne stood on top of. There was no running away now.

*Looks like the only path left is forward.

Frisk wondered how many more times they were going to die today.

The wind howled through the cavern, and Frisk craned their neck back to look up. Undyne was standing tense and formal.

And then Frisk’s heart lurched when she screamed and her battle music slammed into existence.  

“YOU COWARD!”

While Undyne was busy removing her helmet, Frisk furrowed their brows and stuck their tongue out at her. They hastily pulled it back into their mouth when she glared down at them.

“You’re just a WIMP! You ran away crying before you even fought me! Running away and hiding, making me chase you down for AGES! One more SOUL is all we need! And yet you run around and act as if you should be alive! But you shouldn’t be! The most valuable thing you could do is DIE!!!”

The words echoed in the howling cavern. And they echoed in Frisk’s head, too.

“Your life is all that stands between us and our freedom! Right now, I can feel everyone’s hearts pounding together! Everyone’s been waiting their whole lives for this moment! Let’s end this! Step forward when you’re ready! Fuhuhuhu!”

Frisk’s face grew hot, and they bit their lip. They weren’t going to cry. Undyne was far from the only one that wanted them dead and Frisk was used to it by now.

It didn’t matter if Frisk was more valuable dead—they didn’t want to die. Maybe it was selfish, but they were scared.

And… At least one person didn’t want them dead. Papyrus wanted them to stay alive. He was sad when they died. Maybe not everyone was waiting for them to die like she said.

Frisk turned to the SAVE star. They didn’t want to FIGHT Undyne. But what other option did they have? 

They could do it. They were going to make it. Pleading and crying hadn’t let them escape before, so they were going to be strong. They thought of Papyrus’s gentle encouragement, and Sans’s lazy pats on their head when they did something he approved of. (And tried to ignore how they desperately wanted to go back.)

*You think about your friends’ support. It fills you with DETERMINATION.

Frisk withdrew from the SAVE star and squared their shoulders. They wouldn’t let Undyne see them cry. They could do this. They had to stay positive. They were determined.

They stepped forward.

“That’s it, then…! No more running away! HERE I COME!”

And so, Frisk’s attempts to get past Undyne started anew.

###

Frisk got past Undyne’s first volley of spears unscathed and chose to flee as soon as they could. They ran as fast as they could, but with their short legs, it wasn’t long before Undyne caught up to them.

“STOP RUNNING AWAY!!!!!”

They only partially dodged the next attack, and a burning, stinging magic spear cut their arm open. They had to waste a turn healing their dropped HP. They glanced in their inventory—they had stocked up on food, and hopefully it would be enough. They danced around the next attack thrown their way, fleeing once again.

Their heart pounded in their chest as they ran. And then their phone rang, and Frisk stumbled. They cringed away from the blow they were sure was going to come after their mistake.

They glanced up when the pain they were expecting didn’t come, only to see Undyne standing a few paces away, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Well, aren’t you going to answer that, you little punk?!”

Frisk stared wide eyed, and hesitantly reached for their phone. They glanced down at the screen and the name that flashed across it hurt Frisk just as bad as Undyne’s spears. Papyrus. (They wanted Papyrus. They wanted Sans. They didn’t want to be here.) Frisk clenched their fist around the phone and then slid it back in their pocket and shook their head slowly at Undyne.

They turned around and darted down the passage as Undyne shouted behind them and began the pursuit again. “DON’T YOU HAVE ANY MANNERS?!”

She caught up to them, and this time Frisk wasn’t as lucky when it came to dodging. It was three more turns and two more healing items used up before they could flee again.

Continuing their run, they overlooked a small rock on the path in front of them. They stumbled.

*

*

*

*FILE LOADED

###

Ow.

Frisk had almost forgotten how bad dying hurt. Today was certainly a good reminder.

But! They’d gotten further than they ever had before! Determination to go on filled them, and they furrowed their brows and took a step forward. They could do this.

When their Encounter with Undyne started, they chose to flee as soon as they could and sprinted down the path into Hotland. They pushed themself and ignored the sweat that dripped down their neck and how their lungs and legs hurt after only a few minutes.

But no matter how fast they ran, Undyne was faster. 

Metal armor clanked behind them as Undyne followed. And then she caught up, grabbing them roughly by the shoulder and tugging them into another Encounter.

Spears rushed past them with crackling heat and energy, and Frisk threw themself out of the way. One of them tore a line of fire through their side, and they hissed quietly through their teeth. Blood welled up past the sharp pain, and Frisk grabbed the wound and tried to ignore it.

They had to heal instead of fleeing if they wanted to be able to run.

So Frisk healed and then they ran again, but injuries that they got from Undyne’s previous turns always made it harder to keep running.

It wasn’t long before Frisk ran out of healing items. Blood bubbled past their lips when Undyne threw a spear straight into their chest, slicing through their skin, into their lungs. It burned. 

They coughed and sputtered, and they tried to breathe, but they couldn’t, the familiar feeling of blood filling their lungs, drowning them.

Their mind grew hazy as they fell to the ground. Metal armor clanked and rattled, and Undyne’s footsteps were heavy as they pounded against the dry, rocky path. And then Frisk blinked weakly, and she was looming over them, casting a shadow over their form with a scowl painted across her face. 

She brought a spear to their chest and shoved it through with a wet squelch, taking their last HP away.

*

*

*

*FILE LOADED

###

Sans woke up to a desperate and hoarse call from Papyrus echoing through the house and all of Snowdin. There was a sinking feeling in his own SOUL, something deep in him telling him that things were going to go very wrong today. 

Sans rolled off of his mattress and reached for the pinch in space-time that led to his living room as fast as he could. He stumbled through, and Papyrus was standing in front of him with tears in his sockets as he shook and held the pajamas they’d given Frisk in one hand and a sticky note clutched tightly in the other.

Papyrus was devastated. Sans wasn’t sure he’d ever felt Papyrus so full of grief and pain before. Sans’s SOUL ached from standing next to him, and panic rose in his chest as he took in the sight before him. Papyrus was rarely quiet about anything, and right now was no exception. His SOUL thrummed with fear, stress, grief, and… an odd sort of determination.

“papyrus?”

Papyrus let out a choked cry. "Frisk! It’s—It’s Frisk. They—they died! And now they’re back, but they’re not here and we have to go. We have to find them! They aren’t safe!”

Sans’s SOUL sank and sputtered in his chest as he stared at Papyrus with wide, empty sockets. …But some part of him wasn’t surprised by this. Some small inkling in his SOUL told him he’d seen it even if he was forced to forget.

Frisk. He’d—he’d failed. He’d broken his promise, and his kid had died again.  

And somehow, Papyrus knew. …And it sounded like he remembered.

Sans wasn’t sure he remembered how to breathe.

He didn’t have time to grieve or even think about the implications of Papyrus remembering. Because Papyrus shoved the sticky note over to Sans with trembling hands.

“thank u! -_- "

The handwriting was small and clumsy, clearly written by a young child. It wasn’t funny. But Sans had to bite down a laugh. 

Where was Frisk?

When he looked up, Papyrus had his phone in his hands, and he was frantically dialing. Sans waited with bated breath and a storm in his SOUL as it rang. And then it went to voicemail.

Frisk always picked up when Papyrus called. Always.

No, no, no no no. This couldn’t be real. Sans was having a nightmare.

…When was Sans ever that lucky?

Papyrus had a hysterical look in his sockets as he tore for the front door. He paused for half a second to turn around and look at Sans. 

“We need to find them!”

###

Papyrus waited until he saw Sans nod and shortcut off to god knows where in his search for Frisk, and then he ripped the door open. He took giant loping strides and then he was running across the air as he looked down on Snowdin from an aerial view.

He had to find them now. They—they left. Maybe he shouldn’t be in such a hurry. Undyne hadn’t come to their house until later and Frisk was probably hiding to keep themself safe.

Hiding because he hadn’t protected them. Because he had frozen for three seconds too long. He’d let his shock and disbelief and faith in Undyne keep him still. And they died. She KILLED them.

No, no no! Even if they were hiding safe and far away from Undyne, Papyrus had to see them. He had to hold them and apologize and keep them safe and far, far away from any fishes with spears and magic and murder on the mind.

He needed to see his child.

They were too far away for him to feel their emotions through the bond, but how far away was that? When had they left? Or could they be in Snowdin and muting their emotions on purpose to hide from him?

Papyrus pushed himself harder and his eyes scanned through the trees of Snowdin woods. The Underground had always been small to him before, but now it was much too big.

He screamed their name, and maybe it was a bad idea, but he needed them to answer.

“FRISK!”

He wasn’t expecting it when a sharp, cutting pain tore through his SOUL.

And then they were gone.

Papyrus stumbled. He faltered. And he fell down into a snowbank far below.

No… no no no NO! They were supposed to be safe. They were supposed to be hiding.

Papyrus clutched a fistful of snow in his hand.

Not again. He couldn’t have messed up his second chance.

He stared blankly into the distance, unable to stop the tears from welling up in his sockets. He was helpless. And then he lifted his head to gaze sightlessly at the roof of the cavern endlessly high above him as he cried. He could only pray that whatever miracle had allowed Frisk to come back before, worked again.

*

*

*

*FILE LOADED

There was a crumpled note in his hand that he was shoving over to Sans.

Papyrus faltered at the sudden disorientation that came over him. He clutched at his chest, and tears filled his sockets as a wave of relief made him fall to his knees.

He could feel them. They were back again.

“papyrus?” Papyrus glanced up to see Sans looking at him with panic and worry.

“We don’t have time! We have to find them now!”

Papyrus climbed to his feet and then peeled out the front door.

Not Snowdin—They weren’t in Snowdin. Papyrus had to find them. He could check Waterfall. 

How had they died? Was it an accident? Did somebody kill them again?

Papyrus tore through Waterfall, moving faster than he ever had in his life. He needed to find them! He needed this horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day to be over with. Papyrus needed Frisk in his arms and he would never put them down again.

He ran.

And then, less than two minutes later, Frisk was ripped out of his SOUL.

They were gone again, and Papyrus screamed. It tore out of his mouth, hoarse and grieving and loud. His magic thrashed around him and some of Waterfall’s residents that had been nearby ran from him.

Papyrus was frustrated. Papyrus was… angry.

He wasn’t angry at Frisk. No—He had failed at protecting them. Of course, they felt like they had to go. But he was angry at himself and he was furious with whoever was killing them!

…Oh.

With shaking phalanges, he reached for his phone and dialed a number he was very familiar with. The phone rang once, twice, and she picked up on the third ring. Undyne’s armored form greeted him.

“Listen, Papyrus, I can’t talk right now. I’m kinda—” and she shifted just enough for a scene Papyrus never wanted to see again come into view. 

Red.

He hit the end button startlingly hard.

This time Frisk hadn’t even died with someone that loved them nearby. It had been a slaughter, and Papyrus had to choke back the nausea that welled up. He settled back against the wall, trying and failing to keep the tears at bay as he waited.

He had the information he needed now.

*

*

*

*FILE LOADED

There was a crumpled note in his hand that he was shoving over to Sans.

Papyrus regained his wits about him quicker than last time. And then he looked Sans dead in the sockets and grabbed him by the shoulders. He was shaking.

“You need to go! Frisk is at the exit of Waterfall right now! And they are facing Undyne! We only have a few minutes!”

His SOUL thrummed frantically in his chest.

“Sans, you can get to them quicker than me. I will call Undyne and attempt to distract her. I need you to get them and bring them back here.” 

His voice lost some of its volume as he looked at Sans and a strangling helplessness dragged at his SOUL.

“They… They may be injured when you find them. Please bring them back to me so I can heal them as quickly as possible.”

And Papyrus knew Sans was the best big brother ever, because he didn’t stop and question him despite the pain and confusion and grief that Papyrus could feel swirling through his SOUL. He just reached up, squeezed Papyrus’s hand gently, and nodded.

“we’ll be back before you know it.”

And then he took a step, and he was gone.

Once Sans had left, Papyrus sank to his knees and pulled out his phone to dial Undyne. He could only hope that this worked.

Chapter Text

Sans’s SOUL thrummed with frantic energy as he pictured the area just outside of Hotland, the rocky cliff with wind howling around. He needed to get there, and then he would grab Frisk and disappear. Frisk would be far away from Undyne if Sans had anything to say about it—and he had a lot to say about it.

He couldn’t afford to be late. He needed to get there before Undyne injured Frisk. …He’d already been too late, though. How many times had he failed? How many times had they died again?

What use was he if he couldn’t even keep his kid safe?!

He narrowed down his focus, and then he found the familiar pinch in space-time and stepped through.

There was nobody there.

Just an empty, howling cavern with dry rocks underneath.

Sans felt like he had swallowed lead, a sinking feeling seeping into his SOUL.

Frisk and Undyne must have left. But in which direction? Into Hotland, or back into Waterfall? Sans was about to reach for his shortcut that led to his station right past the entrance of Hotland, and see if he could hear them. But then the distant sound of Undyne yelling echoed faintly from the direction of Waterfall.

Sans whipped around and reached for a shortcut a little way back into Waterfall.

He had to find them.

###

Frisk panted heavily as they dodged another round of attacks. They were out of healing items, and were struggling to run because of the big hole that one of Undyne’s spears had torn through their shoulder.

Undyne’s phone had distracted her for some reason this time, though. It wasn’t for very long, she’d just picked it up for a moment to bark out, “Turn around? …My house is on FIRE?! …I don’t have time for this, Papyrus! I’ll call you back later!” before she hung up. But it was enough of a delay for Frisk to get further ahead. (They ignored the way their heart hurt at hearing Papyrus’s name.)

They had gotten further than they ever had before, and now they actually had an end goal in sight.

They glanced back to see Undyne panting just as heavily as them. If they could outlast her—

Undyne threw one last spear that Frisk couldn’t fully dodge. It tore through their leg, leaving a deep bloody gash. Frisk whirled around, ready to hit flee as soon as they got a chance. But the Encounter flickered around them before dropping entirely.

And then, with a rattle and a crash, Undyne fell down.

Was this… it?

Frisk’s heart fluttered in their chest with exertion and disbelief.

The whole thing had only taken a handful of minutes. If this was as far as they needed to go, they had gotten so close, so many times. They hurt and they were in pain, but… they were safe?

They could just leave now, and no one would follow?

Frisk spotted a water cooler and limped over to lean on it. Undyne still didn’t move.

She… didn’t look so good.

…Frisk was safe now, but… they weren’t sure if Undyne would be okay if they just left her there. They glanced at the water cooler next to them.

Undyne was a fish, right? Or at least a fish monster. The heat couldn’t be good for her. She… might die. And she couldn’t come back.

With shaking hands, Frisk slowly filled a cup.

This was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea. If it worked, and the water actually helped her, then the chase would just resume all over again. And Frisk was getting more lightheaded the longer they stood there. They could barely walk now with their new injury… They definitely couldn’t keep running.

…But she was Papyrus’s best friend. Frisk would never be able to look him in the eye socket again if something happened to Undyne because they left her there. They couldn’t. 

They put one foot forward. And then took another limping step.

Slowly, they made their way back over to Undyne. She was sprawled out on the ground, with her eyes closed and tongue hanging out of her mouth. But even though she wasn’t standing, being so close to her went against every screaming instinct they had.

They poured the cup over her head.

She shook. Her eyes opened.

Frisk’s heart hammered in their chest so loudly it was all they could hear when Undyne slowly pushed her way back to her feet. They stumbled back when she loomed over them and closed their eyes. 

That was it. They were going to die again. 

…But nothing happened.

They cautiously peeked open an eye, and sweat ran down the back of their neck. She was standing right there, still, glaring down at them heatedly. Her form loomed over them, and all she would have to do was reach out and grab them.

But then she took a step back. 

And then she turned around.

Frisk could only stare as Undyne walked away from them. They weren’t dead…?

They weren’t dead. They’d… gotten past Undyne. She let them go.

And then a wave of pain washed over Frisk as the adrenaline that had been fueling them sputtered out. Their vision got hazy as the heat and screaming pain from their shoulder overwhelmed them. They reached up to grab at their arm. There was a hole through it. And Frisk was out of healing food.

Frisk stumbled back over the bridge from where they came. They had passed an empty sentry station on their way here that they were pretty sure belonged to Sans, considering the snow on the roof.

If they were lucky, he would have some food, or at least some ketchup there. Something to seal up their injury. They had to be careful, though. Undyne’s spear had dragged the fibers of their sweater into their wound, and if Frisk sealed it up without picking those out, they would get stuck in them.

Frisk knew from first-hand experience how much that hurt.

They were bleeding heavily, and Frisk took a deep steadying breath in and bit their lip to ignore the pain they were in. They ducked behind Sans’s station. When they didn’t find anything, they sank back against the wall with a wince.

Even with no food here, the area felt like Sans, and Frisk was so tired. Surely a little sleep couldn’t hurt?

Their eyes drifted closed and the familiar act of sleeping outside on the ground reminded them of Mr. Angel. Whenever they fell asleep outside, he would sit next to them and keep guard. He would hum to them, and even though he couldn’t touch anything (intangible, he called it), he would hover his hand over their head, and pretend to pat at their hair. …They missed him. 

Darkness drifted over their mind as they fell asleep and tried to pretend they could hear the familiar voice of their friend humming to them.

###

Sans’s SOUL thrummed rapidly as he took shortcut after shortcut. Papyrus said they only had minutes.

And it had already been minutes.

Each time Sans pictured the closest shortcut to the voices that echoed, no one was there.

He wasted minutes he didn’t have when he realized he was chasing after echo flowers!

Frisk—He needed to find Frisk. NOW!

He pictured the area behind his station just into the entrance of Hotland and reached. He stepped through the pinch in space-time and prayed to anything that would listen that this time he would find them. That he wouldn’t be too late to save them.

And then his SOUL stuttered to a stop. 

Frisk was—they were—

Slumped. Limp and bloody against the wall of his station. Lifeless.

No, no, no no! He was too late! But, they couldn’t die, right? He wouldn’t still be here if they were dead.

Sans dropped to his knees and reached out, but he didn’t know what to do with his hands. There was so much blood. Where could he touch them without making it worse?! His SOUL twisted in his chest as he brushed his phalanges across their cheek so lightly he couldn’t even feel them. Would they shatter if he pressed too hard? Please let them wake up. Please.

“frisk. frisk! frisky, come on. say something!"

He couldn’t have been too late. He’d–he’d failed to protect them. Undyne hurt them. But they weren’t dead yet. Papyrus said they might be injured, but Undyne wasn’t even here and Frisk wasn’t moving.

Sans bit down on his panic and ran a check.

*HP 3/20

*They need healing.

And then their eyes fluttered open weakly, and they looked up at him. Air rushed past Sans’s teeth as he took a deep breath in and tried to compose himself.

“thank the stars! okay, frisky. i know it looks bad, but we’re gonna get you back to papyrus, okay? it’s gonna be okay.”

Sans didn’t know if he was trying to reassure himself or Frisk, but he grinned weakly at them, nonetheless. And then he reached down to help them up, but his SOUL stilled and stuttered at the thought that he would make it worse.

Frisk looked at him for a long moment, and their red eyes were glazed over. But then they focused on him.

Frisk wasn’t always the easiest for Sans to read. Often, he struggled to understand how they were feeling in a way that was rare for him. But right now, the furrow to their brow and the slight downturn of their lips told him they were confused. 

Sans made the connection quicker than he would have liked. …They were confused about why he was trying to help them, weren’t they? How many times had some version of himself seen Frisk like this and stepped away? ...He had already done the same thing. He’d left them injured countless times before he and Papyrus had taken them in.

He slammed down hard on those thoughts and shoved them over to his mental pile of “to be dealt with later,” along with the knowledge that Frisk had died again and Papyrus seemed to remember. Instead, he gently grabbed Frisk by their shoulder that didn’t have a hole through it, and bit down his nausea.

“i’m sorry frisky. i’m so sorry. please, we need to get you healed up. can you stand up?”

Would picking them up make it worse? Sans didn’t know anything about healing, let alone healing humans. If he grabbed them wrong, would they fall apart? Would they lose those last few precious HP?

Frisk blinked slowly, confusion and… worry? still in their gaze. And then they nodded their head and struggled to their feet. They pulled at Sans, using him to balance and yank themself up, and he kept one of his hands on their good shoulder and offered the other for them to hold on to.

He wanted to use his gravity magic to help them up at least, even if he couldn’t float them through the shortcut, but he couldn’t afford for Frisk to panic. They had a bad habit of hurting themself by biting their lip, and if they knocked off more of their HP right now…

No.

It would be okay. He just had to get them to take one step with him, and he could take them through a shortcut and make sure they were back home, safe in Snowdin. 

Sans wrapped his arm around them, and Frisk was still so confused. Sans did his best to shove down his guilt that would only distract him right now and continued to grin at them in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

“okay, bud. we only need to take a step here, okay? i know a shortcut. we’ll be home before you know it.”

Carefully, Sans pictured the familiar space in his living room, found the pinch in space-time, and walked them through.

###

Frisk was alive. Papyrus had to keep reassuring himself of that.

Sans had been gone too long. It was too long, and Papyrus didn’t know why, but Frisk was alive, so surely things were okay? They had to be okay. Papyrus focused on the life that thrummed through their bond and reassured him that Frisk was still there. He took a deep breath and reached for his phone again.

And then Sans’s magic flared as he appeared and Papyrus couldn’t breathe.

All he could see was red. Red blood covered his little sibling as their empty body gazed up at him. NO!

No, no, no. They were okay. He could feel them. They were still alive. …But for how long? Undyne had injured them. She’d injured them badly, and while Sans had brought them back, they were still bleeding.

Papyrus climbed to his feet and rushed towards Frisk. He had to heal them!

But then Frisk flinched. 

There was fear coming from their bond. Fear and cautiousness and confusion, all burning hotter than an iron, a line of fire that shot from Frisk's SOUL straight to his own. Papyrus skidded to a halt and his SOUL ached as he stared at them with wide sockets. Cautiously, he reached to do a check.

*HP 3/20

*They are worried they are going to be hurt.

No. Papyrus lost his breath as he stared at them with pain swirling through his SOUL and lead in his bones. A small part of him withered up. Papyrus wouldn’t hurt Frisk! They were his sibling, his child! His! He would never—

…

Oh.

…He had hurt them before, hadn’t he?

Papyrus forced himself to take a deep breath in and then slammed down on his bond with Frisk, muting it so that they wouldn’t have to feel his distress. …It probably wasn’t making things any better.

Papyrus had hurt Frisk. And he’d been ignoring it until now, pretending like it hadn’t happened. Like he hadn’t battled them. …Like he hadn’t knocked their HP down to one. One hair away from death. And oh, how easy it was for that last HP to go away. Papyrus knew that now.

…He didn’t have time to think about this right now. He’d unboxed it, and he would have to at some point, but right now he didn’t have time.

Right now, Frisk only had three HP and a hole through their shoulder. (A hole that Undyne put there. …Something else Papyrus didn’t have time to think about right now.)

He swallowed and shoved his thoughts down. (But this time, he knew he couldn’t keep them that way. Look where it had gotten him.) And then Papyrus lightened his tight grip he had on their bond just a bit. Just enough so that he could send feelings of love and reassurance to them without letting them feel the roiling turmoil in his SOUL.

He took a hesitant step forward and held a hand out in front of him as he slowly approached and then kneeled in front of them to get closer to their eye level. …They were still so much smaller than him. So very tiny as they craned their neck back to look at him. 

…They were still afraid.

His SOUL stuttered, and he kept his hand out in front of him, making sure not to touch them. He felt a bit like he was trying to help a scared whimsum.

“You’re safe here, Frisk.” He tried to paste a smile on his face. “It is only I, The Great Papyrus, healer extraordinaire! …Let me help you? Please?”

Their fear subsided for the most part. The fact that they felt any at all made nausea rise up, and he had to shove it down.

Slowly, Frisk nodded their head at him. Permission granted, Papyrus inspected the mess that was Frisk’s shoulder, and he winced. There was blood and muscle and… and bone. He could see their bones, stained red from their blood. There was something so, so wrong about seeing Frisk’s bones. They shouldn’t be visible. Frisk was supposed to be fleshy and soft, and their skin shouldn’t be open like this. Skeletons were great. But Frisk’s was supposed to be hidden.

Papyrus was going to throw up. Later. When Frisk didn’t need him.

A spear, Undyne’s spear, had caught on Frisk’s sweater and dragged it into their wound. He… he had to remove the debris first. He couldn’t heal it as it was. Still, Papyrus let out a small trickle of magic to bring their HP up just a tick and prevent them from bleeding out. (Like they had before.) Frisk wobbled just a bit at the warmth that came from his magic, and it drew Papyrus’s attention to the bloody gash down their leg. How were they standing?!

He prayed. Oh, he prayed that healing humans was similar enough to monsters. That the small amount of first aid he learned at the same time as he taught himself healing magic would apply to them.

Papyrus held out his arms, but he didn’t touch them. (He couldn’t startle them. If Frisk flinched back from him again… If Frisk thought he was going to hurt them… Papyrus’s SOUL burned at the thought. Like fire was tearing him apart from the inside, scorching him and charring his bones.)

He tried his best to speak in an even and soothing tone. “I need to carry you up to the bathroom, okay? We have to clean up those injuries a bit before I can heal them.”

He waited until Frisk nodded, and then he reached forward and pulled them into his arms, taking care not to agitate their injuries. The air had a sickly sweet copper scent and Papyrus clenched his teeth and ignored the warm feeling of their blood soaking into his bones. Frisk tensed, and he did his best not to think about how that made him feel. He didn’t have time for that right now. (They were so small. He could easily cradle them in just one of his arms if he wanted to. How could Undyne KILL them?!)

Papyrus climbed to his feet and turned towards the stairs, making sure not to run, even if he desperately wanted to. He couldn’t afford to jostle them. Instead, he took steady steps and kept his voice low and even as he addressed Sans. (He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and cry, but he wasn’t sure if he started that he’d ever be able to stop.)

“Is Undyne coming here?” (Are they safe? Was the unasked question.)

Sans still had confusion and horror and so much guilt weighing him down. His guilt was so thick in the air that Papyrus struggled to breathe.

“... i don’t know. she was gone by the time i got there. i was too late. i messed up. i messed up.”

There was more to the story, that much was clear. But Papyrus didn’t have time to figure out what. Frisk’s gaze had been blurry, and they'd been only partially paying attention to what was going on around them, but at Sans’s words, they patted at Papyrus’s chest with their good hand to get his attention.

"She’s not coming back. She left.”

They were clearly struggling to sign, and they only had the use of one of their arms, but Papyrus got the message. The smallest amount of tension drained out of Papyrus’s spine, even if the anger lingered. That meant he could focus all his attention on healing Frisk and making sure they were safe first.

(And oh, they were in his arms now. Safe like he wanted. But also not. They were tired and scared and in pain and confused. And that! Was not what Papyrus wanted!)

When they got to the upstairs bathroom, Sans held the door open for them and Papyrus stepped through and carefully placed Frisk on the sink counter. Despite the tension that had lined their form from being in his arms, he felt like he was tearing a piece of himself away as he set them down. He didn’t want to let them go. He wanted to keep them in his arms forever and just heal them right away. They couldn’t get in any trouble if he was holding them after all! They would be safe.

Papyrus shoved all of his thoughts of panic and blood and death to the far corners of his mind. Frisk had four HP now after the small bit of healing magic he’d given them. He could work with this. (He thought that last time.) Panicking wouldn’t help him. He pulled his gloves off so that they wouldn’t impede what he needed to do and then turned to Sans.

“Sans, I need you to get me a clean towel, a pair of scissors, and tweezers.”

And then he faced Frisk again and made sure to telegraph all of his movements so he wouldn’t startle them. (Scare them.)

“This! Does not look very good! But it will be okay, Frisk! I’m going to heal you, but first we have to get your clothes out of the wound.”

The words felt wrong in his mouth, and he kind of felt like he was watching everything from a distance. Frisk nodded at him and then reached around and tried to pull off their sweater, but the attempt made them wince.

“Wait!” Papyrus cringed at the same time as Frisk at his volume. He made an effort to lower his voice. “Wait, that’s going to hurt you. Let me help, please. I’m going to have to cut it away, okay?”

It was such a silly thing to be worried about, but Papyrus couldn’t help but remember that it was Frisk’s favorite sweater. He didn’t want to destroy it. …Maybe he was thinking about silly things like that so that he wouldn’t have to focus on the shiny, red, muscle and tissue that he could see in their shoulder. The way their arm fell limp at their side. The pain that he could feel from them, and the sluggish exhaustion pulling at their very being. That they had died. (That they might again if he wasn’t careful and quick enough.)

Frisk nodded at him, and Papyrus turned to face Sans. Sans disappeared, only to reappear with the requested items moments later and pass them over.

Papyrus took the scissors with a murmur of thanks and turned back to Frisk. Carefully, Papyrus cut through the fabric of their sweater, making sure the cool metal wouldn’t brush up against their skin or agitate their injuries. And then he pulled the ruined fabric away from them, and they were only left with their shorts and a dark tank top.

Oh.

It looked so much worse when it wasn’t hidden.

Papyrus gagged at the nausea that pushed up before he forced it down. (He’d seen worse. Holes, torn right through their torso and lungs. Spears jabbed into every portion of their body as their insides fell outside.)

Next to him, Sans slammed his sockets shut and took a deep, shuddering breath in. At some point, he’d hidden his emotions again, the same as Papyrus. It was probably for the best. If they weren’t careful, they could easily get pulled into a negative feedback loop of guilt, horror, and despair. 

As terrified as Papyrus was, he grabbed the pair of tweezers from Sans. He took a deep breath and did his best to steady his shaking hands as he poured positive and comforting intent towards Frisk.

He lifted his sockets and met their gaze.

Frisk hunched over and cowered away from him still, and a small part of Papyrus’s SOUL died as he struggled to breathe. If he focused, (And he really didn’t want to. He didn’t want to know this.) he could feel anxiety and confusion coming from Frisk. (But there was still trust. He could feel that they still trusted him. Why did they still trust him? He couldn’t save them. He hurt them. He was a horrible older brother. A horrible guardian.)

He gritted his teeth and then tried to smile at them.

“I’m going to have to pull the fibers out now, okay? And then I’m going to wipe the area down with hot water and a cloth. When that’s done, I’ll heal you.”

When Frisk nodded, he moved forward and ignored the tears building in his sockets. “This… this will probably hurt.”

Frisk attempted a shrug, and then they winced and tensed in anticipation. Papyrus didn’t want to think about how calm they were about this. Or how often they had to deal with pain like this. (Three times. They had died three times since the familial bond finalized that morning. How many times had they died before that?)

Sans shuffled forward and offered his hand to Frisk, a smile plastered across his face. “you wanna hold a hand, pal?”

Frisk reached their little hand out and grabbed it, and Papyrus took another deep breath in. And then he brought the tweezers to their injury because he had to take care of this. The longer he waited, the worse it would get. The more pain Frisk would be in.

Papyrus wasn’t the only one who winced when he made contact. And then Frisk stared with wide, open eyes before they screwed them shut and scrunched their face up. His hands shook for a moment too long, but he forced them to steady. He worked briskly, and tried to ignore the subtle recoil of their body each time he removed more of the fabric debris, and the subsequent lurching of his SOUL.

Eventually, Papyrus cleaned all of what he could see and he reached for the towel that Sans had provided. Time moved in slow motion as he wet it with hot water and dragged it over the raw, open mess that was Frisk’s shoulder to remove any lingering debris.

It. Wasn’t bleeding to the same extent because of the small amount of healing magic he’d been using. But–

Papyrus bit down on his nausea and continued to focus on the life he could feel thrumming through their bond. The way Frisk’s chest was rising and falling as they breathed. They were alive.

In pain and damaged, but alive.

Frisk tensed up and bit their lip at the sensation of cloth dragging across their injury, but not a cry escaped them. Papyrus kind of wished it did, if only because he hated how practiced they were at being in pain. 

The moment that he finished wiping down the wound, he reached forward and allowed his healing magic to seep into the area. Green light danced down Frisk’s skin as it knitted together their injuries, sealing up the hole in their shoulder and the gash down their leg. 

A sigh slipped past Papyrus’s teeth once he’d taken care of the worst of their injuries. Frisk sagged against the wall, and their eyes fluttered closed as their grip on Sans’s hand loosened. Papyrus sent one more wave of healing magic over them, making sure every last scrape and bruise was gone.

And then he checked their HP, and the tension finally flew out of his body as he sagged into what was honestly an appalling posture. He didn’t care, though. All he cared about were those numbers that hovered in front of him.

*HP 20/20

Papyrus wasn’t crying. He wasn’t.

Because Frisk was alive.

###

Frisk’s limbs were heavy and weak, and they wanted to chase the warm feeling of Papyrus’s magic and curl up in a ball. Somewhere past their blurry vision and exhausted mind, they heard Sans excuse himself and say something about clothing.

Blood and dirt was caked onto their body, itchy and overwhelming and too much. They needed it off. Frisk pried their eyes back open as much as they could and reached for the bloody towel that Papyrus had used on their shoulder. Their limbs were heavy like they were made of metal as they tried to wipe at their arm.

Tears finally filled their eyes as they struggled to make their body cooperate. Why couldn’t they do this?

And then a bony hand was in front of them as it gently grasped the cloth. They peered up through their blurry vision to meet Papyrus’s gaze.

“May I…?”

They nodded their head and sagged back against the wall as Papyrus placed the bloody towel off to the side and retrieved a clean one. They hated how weak they felt right now. But…

Papyrus began to wipe the blood and dirt off of their arm gently. His touch was so light.

Papyrus was helping them. Again.

Frisk didn’t UNDERSTAND!

A sob slipped past their lips that they couldn’t bite down, and tears rolled down their cheeks. Papyrus stilled for a moment. And then he let out a quiet sound, something almost like a coo, even though his own voice was kind of watery. He kept cleaning their arm.

“It’s okay now, Frisk. It’s okay.”

Why was he doing this?! Why did he care!?

Why did Sans care? Why did Papyrus care?!

Sans saw Frisk injured, and without question or hesitation, took them right back to Papyrus to be healed. Frisk had left the brothers without a real goodbye, and instead of being mad, they helped them. Frisk got hurt, and dragged blood all over the house. They dirtied the bathroom and ruined their towels. They had interrupted Sans and Papyrus’s day.

But Sans and Papyrus didn’t yell at them. They didn’t hit them or scold them. Not even when Sans brought them back, and they got blood everywhere.

Frisk wasn’t sure how, but they knew that Papyrus was only worried about them. He was upset, but it wasn’t at them? And Sans had let them hold his hand. The only one who was this nice to them was Mr. Angel, and even then he couldn’t actually help them since he wasn’t exactly real. Were Sans and Papyrus real? Frisk wasn’t sure. 

They didn’t understand.

What changed? Why did Sans and Papyrus suddenly start caring a couple of LOADs ago? Being friends was one thing, but they never cared before when Frisk was hurt. Sans never helped them, and Papyrus had hurt them really bad when they first met. But somehow Frisk knew that Papyrus cared. And Sans seemed to care, too.

Frisk was so confused. But they were also so, so tired and they didn’t have the energy to really think anymore.

Their eyes drifted closed despite their best efforts as Papyrus continued to wipe the blood from them. He was so careful. He treated them like they were something precious. …Like they were family.

Frisk didn’t understand, but…

They finally felt safe.

###

Seeing Frisk so tired and defeated was so wrong. Papyrus didn’t like it. And his SOUL twisted and churned like someone had stuck it in a jar and shook it around when they finally started crying. Tears made of water instead of magic rolled down their soft cheeks and their whole body shuddered as they let out a sob. They were so confused.

Papyrus tried to comfort them as he cleaned the blood off of them and ignored the way he wanted to cry, too. Cry and scoop them up into his chest as he pressed them close to his SOUL and never let go ever again.

Instead, he kept cleaning the mess from their arm. And then he got up to the area where a spear had torn a hole through their shoulder. He clenched his teeth together and blinked away the tears that were in his sockets.

Even fully healed, the area was dark and discolored, with raised skin around the edges. Papyrus hadn’t seen a scar this bad since he had seen under Undyne’s eyepatch. This… this wasn’t going away. Frisk would be lucky if they retained full mobility of their arm, and they would most definitely have chronic pain for the rest of their life. 

Papyrus’s sockets closed for a brief second before he forced them open to continue his work. This was his fault. If only he’d talked to Undyne earlier–or–or something!

He kept wiping the blood away. And now that he had seen, Papyrus couldn’t look away. Horror dawned deep in his SOUL, swallowing him as he struggled to breathe. Every swipe of the cloth revealed more skin, and it was covered in scars. Frisk’s other shoulder was shiny and red, and healed gashes covered their limbs.

They were a canvas of injuries. 

How had he not noticed before? Had he told himself that humans just came like this?

…Did he… give them any of these…?

Papyrus had gone easy on them in their FIGHT. Had been careful when he noticed how intent didn’t seem to matter to them. But…

They were never able to beat him. Hadn’t even tried to FIGHT him. 

Papyrus wiped the blood off of their leg and another mark came into view. Suddenly he knew. He could see it—Frisk fumbling a jump and one of his attacks tearing through their leg, snapping their bone, and sending it splintering through their skin. They had eaten a cinnamon bunny and their wound healed up, but it had still happened.

Carefully, ignoring the tightening in his chest, Papyrus moved back to some of the other areas he'd cleaned and looked again. His breath caught as he trailed his hand lightly over the raised patch on their arm, and then looked at a similar mark on their other. And another on the same leg as the first.

Unique scars—long and raised and horrific, because Papyrus's bullets weren't sharp. They were blunt. They caused broken bones that sometimes splintered through skin, splashing hot blood onto the melting snow beneath Frisk.

Papyrus had scarred them. 

Memories he had been pushing back since he found out their age came flooding back. They had been so lighthearted and playful during their Encounter, it was easy to get distracted and just have fun. To not think, because Papyrus hadn't wanted to think about what he was doing. But… each of those Encounters ended up with Frisk knocked unconscious. Even if Papyrus healed them, he was still the one that injured them to the point where they blacked out.

One HP. Papyrus had brought them down to one HP.

He knew how close that was to death. How easy it was for that last HP to slip away.

This wasn’t like when he sparred with Undyne. Both he and Undyne were grown monsters. Injuries were expected and promptly taken care of. Not to mention… It was scary how little intent mattered to humans. Papyrus could throw a bone attack at Frisk and it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t want to hurt them, it would still cause damage, anyway. If he didn’t have such firm control over his magic, that could have been it. It was very, very hard to dust a monster by accident, but humans were so squishy and fragile.

Frisk hadn’t wanted to FIGHT him. They spent every other turn asking for MERCY. 

Nausea welled up in Papyrus. It didn’t matter if he didn’t know their age. He shouldn’t have. And now, because of him, his little sibling, his child, the one he was supposed to look out for and raise and protect, would bear scars they got from him for the rest of their life.

He hurt them. Hurt them badly enough that their skin was still painted with thick scars. Every time they flinched or hesitated when he approached or raised his voice was his fault. They were scared of him and they had good reason to be. 

Their nightmare, their flashback, from what seemed like ages ago. Had it been about Papyrus? They were scared of him then. Him not Sans. Stars, what was wrong with him!? What a great big brother he turned out to be. This was his fault. Papyrus hurt them. He scarred them. He couldn’t protect them.

They died in his arms.

Papyrus clearly wasn’t paying enough attention, because panic shot through his SOUL like a jolt of electricity when Frisk suddenly slumped over. He caught them and performed a check before he could even think.

*HP 20/20

*They are exhausted.

Papyrus forced the tension out of his body. It was okay. They were just sleeping. Just sleeping. He could still feel them through the bond. They were fine. Their heart was beating. They were breathing.

Papyrus took another deep breath in as he forced the image of their still body out of his mind and finished wiping off the blood from them. Sans reappeared just in time with a bundle of clothes and dropped them off next to Frisk.

Papyrus lingered as he held onto Frisk for a moment longer, taking in the warmth of their skin and the fluttery thump of their heart against their wrist. And then he turned to Sans.

“Could you…?”

Sans nodded and stepped forward. He took Frisk’s tiny form from Papyrus gently and the grin on his face was still strained.

Papyrus… didn’t want to leave them just yet, but maybe he should let Sans finish up here. Sans never hurt them. Sans didn’t scare them.

(Papyrus wanted to pull them into his arms and never let go.)

Papyrus silently hovered as Sans pulled the clean clothes over Frisk and scooped them into his arms. Papyrus shadowed Sans as he walked down the hall to Sans’s room and placed the baby bones in a freshly made bed. Sans tucked Frisk’s blanket up around them and brushed the back of his phalanges against their cheek before he drew back.

Both Sans and Papyrus stood there in silence as they watched Frisk sleep. But, eventually, Papyrus tore himself away to stagger down to the living room.

And then he dropped to his knees and sobbed.

Chapter Text

Sans couldn’t tear his gaze away as the green light of Papyrus’s magic stitched Frisk’s wounds closed. And then, when Papyrus had healed them completely, air slid out from Sans’s teeth and his shoulders slumped.

…Frisk’s hand was so tiny in his own.

They’d squeezed his hand with a surprising strength when Papyrus was cleaning their wound, but their face… Sans didn’t like how quiet and stoic Frisk was. That expression… That was the expression of someone who was used to getting hurt.

How much of that was his fault? How much of that could he have prevented if he had just done his job from the start? And how could he have messed up again?! He should have known better, should have guessed that Undyne may have chased them through Waterfall, and that some of that may have been captured by the echo flowers.

Sans closed his sockets for half a second. And then he opened them and looked back at Frisk slouching on the sink as they struggled to hold themself up. …They were exhausted.

They needed clean clothes and a place to sleep. Sans could do that much. He couldn’t mess that up.

He gave Frisk’s hand one last squeeze and then let go.

“i’m gonna go grab them some clothes, okay? i’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

Papyrus had a distant look in his socket, and a small, hypocritical part of Sans wanted him to let up on the bond. Wanted to know how he was feeling. But… Sans had a pretty good guess, regardless. If he remembered… Sans bit down on his nausea and ignored the way his sockets watered and his grin widened.

He pictured the space of the living room and stepped through the familiar pinch in space-time. His bones were heavy and dragged as he walked, but he made his way over to the stash of old clothes next to the couch.

They were hand-me-downs from when Papyrus was still a baby bones. He’d altered most of them so that they would fit Frisk, but there was a shirt that he had left oversized because they liked the comfort of it. He grabbed that shirt, and then the most comfortable pair of sweats he could find along with a pair of socks, and put them in his inventory.

Instead of heading back to Frisk and Papyrus just yet, he took a shortcut into his room. It… was a mess. But he was going to try to clean it up a bit so that Frisk could sleep here until he and Papyrus could figure some other sleeping arrangement out.

If they tried to leave at night again, they would have to pass Sans sleeping on the couch to get to the door.

He stopped by his cluttered mess of a closet to take out clean sheets that Papyrus had been nagging him to use and then pulled them onto his mattress. And then, with a couple more steps and a shortcut or two, he retrieved Frisk’s bedding from downstairs.

He tossed the blankets on the bed in some semblance that could loosely be called “made,” and then stepped back and gave his room a once-over.

He hadn’t cleaned in so long…

He hadn’t thought there was a point when nothing was permanent.

But. The only reason things weren’t permanent was because Frisk was dying.

And they’d died again. He failed, he failed, he failed.

Sans’s shoulders shook, and he wasn’t sure if it was from silent laughter or tears. He gripped his skull with his hands, his metacarpals digging into his grin and his phalanges scraping against his skull.

And then he ripped his hands away and forced himself to stop shaking. He had stuff to do. Had siblings to take care of. They both needed him right now. (He failed them.)

With gravity magic, he tucked the worst of the mess in his room into his closet and threw any remaining garbage in his trash tornado. It still needed to be vacuumed, but it would do for now.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and made sure his grin was lazy and relaxed as he took a step back and into the bathroom. Papyrus was standing tense as he held up a much cleaner and healthier, albeit sleeping Frisk.

Papyrus turned to Sans at the slight flare of magic that announced his arrival. There was a small measure of fear, and no small amount of guilt filling Papyrus’s sockets and lining his posture as he held Frisk loosely.

He sounded so vulnerable as he asked, “…Could you?”

Sans nodded and stepped forward. Papyrus passed Frisk over to Sans like he was handing him the most delicate piece of glass in the world. Sans took them with the same amount of care. They seemed so fragile.

They were still so thin, even though they’d been staying with Sans and Papyrus for a while. They had gained some weight, but it was still so little compared to what Sans was sure they should have. 

Sans reached to slip their blood stained tank top off and their nightshirt on.

… They had so many scars.

So many scars and Sans was there for almost all of them.

Not the ones they had before they left the Ruins, and not the ones from the latest run in with Undyne, but…

There. That deep scar on their arm from Dogamy and Dogaressas’ axes that tore through their weak skin like paper. And there. A patch of their leg that had been ripped away from the high pressure of Woshua’s magic bullets. Slices through their side from Snowdrake’s attacks.

And so many more.

Sans’s hands shook as he continued to change Frisk into clean clothes. Tears built up in his sockets and his grin was strained again, but he didn’t laugh or cry, even though he felt like doing both.

Once he had dressed them, Sans lifted them into his arms, and they didn’t so much as stir. Their head lolled to the side, and they lay limp.

So small, so fragile, so vulnerable to so many things. They’d been hunted down so many times. That was why they were confused when Sans helped them. Because he never had before.

No one helped them.

Frisk was so tiny and tired in his arms, and the entire world was against them. Was that why they left this morning? To protect themself? Because that was all they knew—that Sans wouldn’t help? That no one would help them, no matter how much they needed it?

THEY WERE EIGHT!

Sans bit down on his laughter and his tears and he carried their limp form over to his room and bent down to place them on his mattress. He sat next to them and pulled their comforter up around them. And then he reached down and brushed the back of his phalanges against their cheek. Their head was so small he could easily cradle it in one hand if he wanted. He drew back and stood next to Papyrus.

They. Were. Eight.

Eight, and already struggling so much when they fell. Eight, and they needed help. Eight, and when they’d fallen, they were hunted down worse than an animal. Tormented, murdered OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER.

… Eight.

And they never got the help they needed. Not until it was too little and too late, and they couldn’t put their trust in him or Papyrus anymore.

No. Frisk didn’t trust Sans or Papyrus to stay with them or to protect them. Were they trying to get back to the surface again? They were going in that direction. Did they feel like that was their only option…? Because they didn’t trust Sans and Papyrus?

Sans shoved his hands in his pockets roughly and rocked back on his heels. Distantly, he noted how Papyrus left for the door.

Sans hadn’t told them. No one had told them that to leave the barrier, they would have to kill Asgore. Frisk wouldn’t kill him. They would never. But would they have stayed here if they knew the truth? Could everything that happened today have been avoided if Sans had just told them the truth?

And because he’d fucked up, Papyrus knew Frisk had died. Maybe… that wouldn’t have been the worst thing. He probably deserved to know, even if Sans hated the thought. But this was so much worse.

How was it he seemed to remember?

...What had he seen?

And then Sans’s SOUL wrenched as Papyrus's sobs tore through the house, even as their bond stayed muted. Sans looked at Frisk, one last quick reassurance that they were still there, and he stepped through space into the living room.

###

Papyrus shuddered and heaved, and he tasted blood on his teeth. It was in his joints; it was on his shirt; it was in his skull. His face was wet as he shook and buried his face in his hands as he sat on the floor.

And then Sans was next to him.

Sans reached forward and yanked him roughly into a hug. Papyrus buried his face in the familiar material of Sans’s jacket and held on to his brother like he would disappear if he let go.

His voice tore out of him, hoarse and watery and desperate as he cried to Sans.

“Frisk DIED! THEY DIED, SANS!”

Sans sank to the ground next to him and ran his hand over the top of Papyrus’s skull.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”

Papyrus wasn’t sure if he was shaking or if Sans was, or more likely, they both were. All he knew was that he was grabbing his brother and breaking into little pieces as Sans sent waves of comforting magic towards him. Papyrus didn’t want to calm down. But there was only so long that he could sob before the comfort of Sans’s arms and his magic drew him back to himself.

And so his tears slowed down, and the frantic pace of his SOUL calmed, just a bit.

Papyrus’s face screwed up tightly, and tears still filled his sockets as he shook, but he let go of Sans and backed up until he only had a handful of Sans’s jacket in his hand.

He wanted to sit and just let Sans comfort him until Papyrus couldn’t see Frisk’s limp body every time he closed his sockets. But he couldn’t avoid this. 

He clung to Sans’s jacket for a few more moments as he tried to remember how to breathe and how to speak. And then he let go and ignored the strained smile on Sans’s face. Sans wasn’t okay right now. Papyrus knew he wasn’t, and normally he wouldn’t push. He wouldn’t purposefully make Sans more upset. But he had to know. Papyrus deserved to know! (Didn’t he? Or did he deserve nothing when it came to Frisk? After what he had done…)

Papyrus grit his teeth and looked at Sans. “You knew. ”

The guilt that Papyrus could see plastered across Sans’s face was so obvious it hurt, even if they were both still muting their bonds. And so Papyrus tried to reel himself in. Sans was blaming himself for the wrong thing right now. He was blaming himself for not being able to help Frisk. That wasn’t why Papyrus was upset, though. So he took a deep breath in and tried to blink away tears that were still falling from his sockets and then gentled his tone into something less accusing.

“You did your best today. Thank you for getting them. But Sans. You knew. Not what would happen today. This wasn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself for this. Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.”

Papyrus’s shoulders shook, and he fisted his hands into the material of his pants so that he would have something to grab.

“But Sans, that night a while back. During Frisk’s flashback. They said something. They said they died over and over again. At the time, I thought it was just a nightmare, but… you apologized. You were upset. You knew what they were talking about. ”

Sans’s head dropped, and he shoved his hands in his pockets roughly. He wouldn’t look up to meet Papyrus’s gaze.

But he still wasn’t talking. Considering how much Sans said every day, he still never really talked. So Papyrus pried.

“How did you know? And why didn’t you tell me?!”

Papyrus knew it was the same reason that Sans never told him anything. Sans didn’t want to burden him, even when it was information that Papyrus needed. But he needed Sans to say something. To say anything!

Finally, Sans answered. Finally, Sans talked to him.

“sorry. guess i’ve been a real bonehead."

Papyrus didn’t so much as twitch at the horribly timed pun, and Sans’s grin widened in the way that it did when he was feeling truly ridiculous levels of stress. And then he closed his sockets for half a second before prying them open and his smile dropped just a bit. Every part of him screamed “exhausted.”

Papyrus almost stopped him. Almost gave him the out that he knew Sans wanted. It would be so easy to screech about poorly timed jokes, and “to stay serious, Sans!” So easy to fall into a banter that would let them distract themselves from the sleeping baby bones upstairs and the blood still soaking into Papyrus’s shirt. But he didn’t. And Sans continued.

“when i worked in the lab, the project i was working on gave us the ability to see reports on the time-space continuum. looking at it… there was a massive anomaly. timelines jumping left and right, stopping and starting. we couldn’t figure it out.” 

His words were slow and halting in a way that Sans never was. Hesitant.

“and then frisk showed up. i could see it, you know? sometimes they acted like they’d seen something before. as if they knew what was about to happen. i figured i found our anomaly. the reason nothing mattered. the reason that everything kept getting rewound. i… i didn’t know it was because they were dying!”

Oh, that information told Papyrus so much. Explained why Sans had become so apathetic. And why he had felt so sick when Frisk told him. 

Papyrus tightened his grip on the fabric of his pants and waited as Sans stopped for a second to catch his breath before he continued.

“i didn’t think to tell you. why did you need to know? i thought… i thought i could keep them safe.” Sans blinked. “i was wrong. they left. i should have told you. i’m sorry.”

His voice was almost eerily even. And then he shook himself and looked at Papyrus, and just a bit more of his genuine remorse bled through.

"i’m sorry, pap. this is my fault.”

Papyrus felt the rest of his anger at Sans drain away. Sans told him. He apologized. And he felt so guilty about it all. 

“I told you not to blame yourself! Humph, you never listen to me, do you?”

Papyrus squeezed his sockets shut, and ignored the image of Frisk’s broken body that he saw.

“You… You weren’t even there. And yet you still got there before I did. It was my fault. I was too slow. And then when we came back, Frisk had left. They left because I didn’t keep them safe the first time.”

Sans rested his hand on Papyrus’s knee, and Papyrus kept his eyes shut and bit down another sob.

Sans’s voice was hesitant when he asked, “...you, uh… remember?”

Even though Papyrus couldn’t feel Sans’s emotions through the bond, he knew Sans was not okay right now. There was no way he was okay. And there was no way that he would stop feeling guilty just because Papyrus told him to. But Sans sent another pulse of comforting intent and Papyrus let himself fall into it for just a moment.

Papyrus clenched his teeth, and then pried his sockets back open. Sans had explained. Now it was Papyrus’s turn.

“I woke up this morning, and everything was normal. Frisk was still here. We had breakfast like we usually do and you headed out to work. But when Frisk and I were cleaning up–”

Papyrus faltered.

“... For some reason, Undyne thought that Frisk had LV. She came here and before I knew what was going on–”

His voice broke and his shoulders shook as tears slipped down his skull.

“There was blood everywhere. I tried to heal them, but… it didn’t work. They died in my arms.”

And Papyrus saw it. He could feel it. Frisk in his arms as they smiled at him. As they died! Papyrus’s SOUL lurched in his chest, a tugging sensation so sharp it hurt to breathe pulling at him.

“Sans, they died in my arms and I couldn’t do ANYTHING! When I tried to heal them, our SOUL bond was finalized by accident. I felt them die. THEY MADE ME LET THEM DIE!” 

Papyrus broke down into heaving sobs, and Sans’s arms wrapped around him again as he yanked him into another hug. Papyrus grabbed fistfuls of Sans’s jacket and buried his face in the familiar material, letting his big brother comfort him.

Papyrus had held his little sibling in his arms as they died. He felt them die twice more after that and saw their body over the phone one of those times. 

But Frisk was safe now. They were upstairs asleep and Papyrus let himself break. Sans held him close as he cried.

Papyrus’s hiccuping sobs died down after a bit, and eventually the room fell back into silence. Sans shifted and then took his jacket off. The next thing Papyrus knew, it was resting on his shoulders. It wasn’t big on him, not like it had been when he was a baby bones. But Papyrus put his arms through anyway and soaked in the feeling of Sans’s magic imbued in the fabric. 

Papyrus looked down at Sans. Down, because even though it didn’t feel like it right now, Papyrus had grown. And now he was bigger than his brother. …And Sans was a mess right now. Papyrus wasn’t the only one that needed comfort.

Sans looked fine to anyone that didn’t know him. And considering he still hadn’t let up on their bond, Papyrus couldn’t use that as an indicator, either. But Papyrus knew Sans. And Papyrus knew that the grin on his face was a lie. So he reached forward and snagged Sans and pulled him in close, and ignored the tiny tremors he could feel through Sans now that he was looking. He sent his own pulse of comforting magic into the air.

Still, Papyrus knew he had to finish his story, so he forced himself to try again. His voice came out hoarse when he spoke.

“And then I woke up, and it was this morning again and Frisk was still alive. I didn’t know what was going on at first, but our bond was still there.”

He closed his sockets and tried to ground himself with the feeling of Sans’s magic around him.

“I think… I think that may be why I can remember now. I can feel their magic through the bond. This morning happened again, but this time they were gone. They left. And then they died two more times before we were able to get to them.”

Sans shook. Minutely. Barely there. And Papyrus pulled back from Sans to flick him on the forehead. San’s grin didn’t twitch.

“This isn’t your fault, Sans. We just… have to do better. With both of us working together, we can keep them safe. I know it!”

And Papyrus grinned. It wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. But he had Sans, and Sans had him. And Frisk had both of them now. Even… even if Papyrus had failed them in the past.

Sans blinked. Slowly. And then he started to let up on the tight grip he had on their bond, and Papyrus did the same. Not enough to cause a feedback loop, but enough that they were both honest.

A rush of hurt and pain and guilt hit Papyrus as Sans grinned widely in complete contrast to everything Papyrus could feel from him.

“i won’t tell you any more fib-ulas. i’m… really sorry papyrus.”

The emotions were overwhelming. And Papyrus knew Sans felt the same way. But it was good. It was freeing. It hurt, but now they were on the same page.

Papyrus blinked away the tears in his sockets and his grin gentled, just a bit. 

“Now is not the time for puns, Sans! …And. I know, Sans. I know. We can get through this. Together.”

Sans nodded. And then he pulled Papyrus back into another hug. But this time, Sans wasn’t trying to hide.

Chapter Text

Sans leaned back and tossed the blood-soaked rag in his hand into the sink with a flick of magic. He ignored the nausea that had been pressing at him since he first started trying to clean up the living room. Frisk’s blood… wasn’t coming out.

Sans looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Papyrus was walking down, and even though the blood was gone from him, and Sans could smell the strong scent of his cinnamon body wash from the shower, he still felt… heavy.

Apparently Sans wasn’t the only one that wore guilt like a shackle on his SOUL.

Papyrus wasn’t okay. A deeper, slower guilt and worry filled him now, in comparison to his earlier panic during what Sans would assume happened when he was in the shower. It had terrified Sans. Because he couldn’t do anything. All he could do was send pulses of comfort and ignore his own panic that came from trying to scrub the blood from the carpet before Papyrus or Frisk came down and it all got worse.

And now, Papyrus wasn’t wearing his battle body for the first time in ages. Instead, he had on his jean shorts and a green dinosaur print sweater, and he had almost buried his face in his scarf. He walked over to where Sans was sitting next to the suspiciously dark stains on the carpet.

Sans craned his neck up. He wanted to ask if Papyrus was okay, but he knew the answer to that. And he wanted to offer another hug, but he couldn’t stand the thought of getting more blood onto Papyrus by accident. 

Papyrus didn’t share his lack of words, but the energy in his tone was a bit forced when he said, “The shower is free now. You really ought to go clean yourself up! I’ve also cleaned the bathroom.”

Sans stared at Papyrus for a long minute. And then he closed his sockets and hummed.

“yeah. i’ll, uh, go do that.”

Sans wasn’t as blood-covered as Papyrus had been, but there was still blood on him. Blood that he wanted off. He climbed to his feet and gave one last look at the living room. It… was as clean as he was going to get it on his own. Heh, wasn’t that a joke. Sans, cleaning? He’d done more cleaning today than he’d done in years.

Sans was off-kilter. Nothing was right, and everything felt wrong. He’d gone to sleep last night, and while life wasn’t perfect, things were… good. Papyrus was fine. Frisk… wasn’t fine. But Sans thought maybe they were happy. But then he’d woken up to Papyrus screaming and Frisk missing, and then Frisk was hurt, and they’d died, and Papyrus remembered and…

Everything was wrong.

Sans found the pinch in space time that led to his bedroom and stepped through. He needed a change of clothes and—

He wanted to see Frisk.

Needed to check on them. 

His room was silent as he looked around, only the quiet whooshing of his trash tornado, and the very faint sound of Frisk breathing filling the air. Frisk was curled up so small underneath their blanket, and their back was to him.

Instead of turning towards his closet and basket of clean clothes that lay wrinkled and unfolded, Sans shuffled towards Frisk. He just had to see, and to check them again. And then Frisk whimpered, and Sans was right next to them, his magic crackling, unseen, from the shortcut as his SOUL lurched.

He kneeled next to them and reached out. Papyrus had healed them. Did something happen? Sans performed a check, even as he spoke.

“frisk?”

*HP 20/20

*They have a fever.

Sans’s SOUL dropped, and he swore under his breath. He reached over to Frisk and moved them so they were facing him. They were flushed and red, and uneven blotches covered their skin as their hair stuck to their face from sweat. Sans brushed his phalanges against their forehead, and while he was less sensitive to temperature than fleshy monsters, he could still tell the difference.

They were way hotter than they normally were, almost burning in comparison. Quiet whimpers escaped them and their face was scrunched up.

Something frantic filled him, and he reached down to grab their shoulder and shake them gently.

“frisky, wake up.”

Frisk did little more than blearily open their eyes at him and make a small noise that sounded more like another whimper. Their vision was unfocused, and they were barely awake.

Shit.

The stress to their system must have caused this. Sans shouldn’t be surprised, he really shouldn’t. Of course this would happen. 

He ignored the churning in his SOUL and reached for his phone after a pause.

He… didn’t want to worry Papyrus. The last thing Papyrus needed right now was more stress, more responsibility. But… Frisk was his family, too. …And Sans had just learned the consequences of withholding things from Papyrus.

Sans was going to do better at talking to Papyrus. And… he could really use the help. Papyrus wasn’t a kid. He was helping raise a kid.

So Sans shoved aside his instinct to deal with things on his own and dialed Papyrus.

###

Papyrus’s SOUL churned with a mixture of his own guilt and Sans’s when a spike of anxiety from Sans caused him to freeze up. Less than a minute later, his phone was ringing with the familiar sound of Sans’s ringtone, some ridiculous laugh track that Sans kept changing it back to every time Papyrus tried to get rid of it.

Papyrus grabbed the phone and brought it up to his head, his own anxiety rising frantically in his chest. But his voice didn’t show any of that, even if Papyrus knew that Sans could feel Papyrus’s emotions through their bond.

“Sans? Why on earth are you calling me, you lazybones!? We are in the same house!”

And then Papyrus stilled, because he saw Sans sitting on the floor next to Frisk. Frisk who was an alarming color that they were normally not. Frisk who did not look well.

“hey, papyrus. we have a problem. frisk has a fever, and they can’t wake up all the way… usually i’d just take ‘em to get a check-up, but considering they can’t open their eyes, i don’t think they can see a doctor right now.”

Sans was doing the thing again. The thing where he was feeling anxious and worried and guilty and very not good, and then making horrible, and honestly inappropriate, jokes to deflect. But maybe Papyrus had a bit of a bad habit too, because he let out a groan of his own and ignored how forced it was.

"Sans. ”

Sans hummed and brushed Frisk’s hair back from their head. …Frisk was sick. Had Papyrus messed up even more? Was it all the stress? Would they be okay?

How could this all have happened? Frisk was—Frisk was dead. And then they were alive. And then they were dead and dead and then hurt and then—...

And now they were sick?!

…It. Made sense. If humans were anything like monsters, stress could cause illness easily, especially in children. And Frisk was very stressed and very hurt. (And they were staying in the same house as Papyrus. Did that stress them out more? Papyrus hurt them. They were scared he was going to hurt them again. He had broken their bones, snapped them like little twigs. Made them bleed that gooey, warm, red blood. Of course they were stressed. Of course they were scared.)

Sans knocked Papyrus out of his spiral when he spoke.

“can you bring up cool water and a towel?”

Papyrus nodded his head, even though Sans couldn’t see it.

“Yes, I’m on it! I will be up in one moment!”

Papyrus hung up the phone and tried to ignore the buzzing in his skull and the lead in his limbs as he rushed over to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl. He filled it with cool water and then he grabbed a dish towel on his way back.

He brought them upstairs the second he was done, and the water sloshed precariously in the bowl as he walked through Sans’s open door. His SOUL froze in his chest when he caught sight of Frisk curled up in a ball and shivering, but he kept moving forward anyway.

Papyrus placed the bowl on the ground next to Sans and passed his brother the cloth. Sans took it with a hum and dunked the cloth in the water before wringing it out.

“thanks.”

While Sans did that, Papyrus perched on the corner of the mattress next to Frisk. (Would him being there stress them out more? Was he making it worse?)

But Papyrus was the one with the healing magic. And… even if healing magic didn’t help sickness much, it was better than nothing. Sans caught on to what Papyrus was doing and passed him the washcloth. It was cool, and some of the water soaked into his gloves.

Frisk was so exhausted, and they were barely awake… They were unsettled and uncomfortable, even through the muted emotions that came with them being mostly asleep.

Papyrus channeled healing magic to his hand and the cloth and he leaned forward to place it on Frisk’s forehead, trying to brush back their hair.

A jolt of panic and fear tore through Frisk’s hazy emotions when the cool cloth made contact with their forehead and they flinched back. 

They drew away and a small cry tore out of their lips as their eyes fluttered back half open. They sat up, the blanket around them pooling by their sides as they hunched into a defensive position. Their gaze was hazy and unfocused and their movements were sluggish and shaky as they reached up to sign.

"No. Please. I’m sorry! I’m sorry, don’t hurt me!”

Papyrus recoiled violently, the vice grip around his SOUL squeezing tightly as his breath hitched. His magic burned under his bones, and his voice locked behind his teeth.

("Can’t we be friends? I think you’re really cool! Please don’t FIGHT anymore. I don’t want to FIGHT.”)

(In hindsight, Frisk had been so small as they stood across from him, narrowly dodging out of the way of his attacks. That weird red fluid was on their leg from where their bone had splinted through.)

(“I’m sorry. Please, do we have to FIGHT?”)

(They reached for the MERCY button again.)

(Papyrus didn’t grant it.)

Sans recovered before Papyrus did, though, distantly, Papyrus noted how Sans’s own SOUL ached at the sight before them.

Sans’s magic flowed out comfortingly, filling the room with soothing intent. His voice was low and even, and he stayed crouched next to Papyrus.

“hey, frisky. it’s me, sans. sans and papyrus. we aren’t gonna hurt you, i promise. you’ve got a fever. we’ve got a cool towel for your head. we gotta lower that fever, okay?”

It felt like ages, each second dragging by in agony as Frisk slowly relaxed. The fear and panic in their SOUL died down, replaced by recognition. Sans reached forward slowly, and Frisk didn’t flinch away.

Exhaustion dragged at them as they let Sans help them lie back down. Shivers wracked their body, and they reached blindly for the blanket. Sans tucked it up around their shoulders and brushed their hair back from their forehead.

And then it was Papyrus’s turn.

He wet the cloth again, making sure the water on it was cool. And then he turned to Frisk, who had already closed their eyes.

He reached out.

Oh. Was he… trembling?

He put the cloth on their forehead and winced at the same time as them. Green magic sputtered to life on his hands and he channeled it into Frisk.

They relaxed back, sinking into the mattress at the comfort and warmth of healing magic. (Manipulation.) Some of their shivers eased, and the small little funny scrunch they did with their brows smoothed out. (They were still stressed, though.) …They had already fallen all the way back to sleep.

Sans’s hand landed on Papyrus’s shoulder, and Papyrus flinched.

“they’re gonna be okay. …are you gonna be okay?”

Papyrus plastered on a smile and made to change places with Sans now that he’d healed Frisk to the best of his abilities.

“Of course they are going to be okay! With us looking out for them, they will be healed up as soon as possible!”

Hopefully, before the sickness dropped their HP cap. They already barely had more HP than a whimsum. And that HP was lost to the silliest of things. Like—a paper cut. Frisk couldn’t afford to lose any more. Papyrus already had one sibling one stiff breeze away from falling down, he didn’t need Frisk to join Sans. (Was Sans going to be okay after this?)

Papyrus pointedly ignored Sans’s question and shoved the cloth into Sans’s hand.

“I will be back! I’m going to go get medicine!”

Sans took the cloth and put it back on Frisk’s forehead. And then he looked at Papyrus, worry and anxiety thrumming through their bond.

“i… okay. take care of yourself.”

Papyrus smiled widely and ignored the ringing in his skull and the tension in his shoulders.

“Of course! I always do.”

And Papyrus spun around and left out the door after shooting one last glance at Frisk’s tiny (hurt, scarred) form. He took long steps down the hall and then made his way down the steps.

He! Was going to get things! Sick people things that sick people needed! He was most definitely NOT avoiding Frisk! Of course not! Why would he do that? It’s not like he was trying to ignore how they flinched from him again! And begged him not to hurt them!

He made his way into the kitchen and busied himself looking to see if they had tea and soup. Surely monster illnesses and human illnesses were not that different. (Hopefully.)

Finding that they had no canned soup, and that they were low on golden flower tea and honey, Papyrus made his way to the door. They also didn’t have any medicine on hand, as neither he nor Sans had gotten sick in a long while. (Please let monster medicine work on humans. Frisk was so… fleshy. So many moving parts and so little magic anywhere except their SOUL.)

Snow swirled around him as he walked through town on the way to the general store.

The door chimed as he entered, and he made a beeline to pick up what he needed. His mind was numb as he gathered the tea and soup and medicine, and the smile on his face was frozen in place.

He dropped the items off on the counter with a clatter and dug through his inventory for the gold he would need to pay.

The shopkeeper looked at the items and glanced back up at him.

“Is everything okay? Is someone sick?”

Papyrus forced himself to keep smiling.

“Yes! Frisk has a fever right now, but do not fret! Soon they shall be good as new!”

Worry spread across the purple bunny’s face.

“Oh no! If you or your brother need anything, let me know. Actually, you know what? I’ll be by to drop off a pot of soup later, okay?”

Oh. Well.

That was something.

The smile on Papyrus’s face grew a bit more genuine as he thanked her and paid for his items. He turned to the door and made his way back outside.

All of Snowdin knew that the “monster from the capital” that the brothers had taken in was a human at this point. Frisk’s very obviously human SOUL had been dragged out into too many Encounters for that to stay hidden. But Frisk was too cool, and their friendship power was too strong for anyone to resist their charms.

Frisk had befriended everyone in Snowdin and the surrounding area. He was pretty sure they had befriended most of the monsters in Waterfall too at this point. Considering the king wasn’t knocking on their door, Papyrus was quite sure that most everyone was keeping the secret.

That was… something. Something good. Something nice. (Papyrus needed something good right now.)

Papyrus trudged back home and kicked the snow off his boots when he got inside. He went over to the kitchen and put the kettle on to make some tea. He would go upstairs with the tea and medicine as soon as it was done.

Lead filled his bones at the thought of seeing Frisk again. (Of Frisk flinching… Begging for MERCY.)

No! Everything was! Fine! It was fine!

…

…It was not fine.

Papyrus hurt Frisk, and his little sibling (his child), someone he promised to protect and raise and do right by, feared him. What right did Papyrus have to be near them? Frisk deserved better.

His own nausea rose in his chest before he pushed it down. Frisk…

(Blood. On his hands. Thick and goopy and warm and sticky and red. Frisk’s heart stopping. Were those spears in their chest or bones?)

(No. No. Papyrus hadn’t killed them. But he almost did.)

The kettle whistled shrilly and Papyrus jolted.

The only red on his hands was his gloves.

Papyrus clenched his teeth and poured the water over the tea. He grabbed the bottle of medicine. And then he turned towards the stairs and trudged his way back up, lead filling his SOUL more and more with every step, and the ringing in his skull getting louder.

When he stepped back through the door, nothing had changed. Sans was still sitting next to Frisk, changing the cloth on their head every so often and radiating guilt and worry. And Frisk was still shivering, and kind of whimpering, anxiety and discomfort and fear steeping in their SOUL. They barely took up any room on Sans’s mattress.

Papyrus stepped closer and handed Sans the items. Sans took them and looked at Papyrus again, worry surging even more through their bond, though Papyrus wasn’t sure how that was possible. Between the two of them, surely they had hit some kind of worry cap. Like—a bucket. You could only pour so much worry in before there was the maximum amount of worry! Surely Sans and Papyrus had hit that cap!

But no. Sans was still worrying even more. And Papyrus was very, very tempted to mute their bond. He was already muting his with Frisk. The last thing they needed was more stress and anxiety on top of everything. But Sans would know. And then Sans would worry more. Or he might start muting again, and that was the last thing Papyrus wanted.

Sans busied himself measuring out a spoonful of medicine as he shot Papyrus another look.

“...papyrus, this isn’t your fault either. they’ve just been through too much recently. they were bound to get sick at some point.”

Papyrus smiled and tried to believe Sans. He failed.

“I—I suppose. I’ll be fine! I just don’t like seeing them like this.”

Sans let out a quiet hum, and Papyrus knew Sans didn’t believe him. But Sans turned back to Frisk to wake them up enough to give them their medicine, and Papyrus took the chance to slip out the door.

He had to call Undyne.

###

“Papyrus?”

Papyrus took note of the fact that Undyne wasn’t wearing armor when she picked up the phone. She was at her home. 

She must have decided not to finish her patrol. (After she had skewered Frisk. Made them sick. Chased them down. Murdered them.)

“Hello! Beautiful day we’re having, isn’t it?”

…There was a resentment bubbling in his SOUL that he had never quite felt before as he looked at Undyne. His words came out perhaps a bit sarcastically in response.

She didn’t pick up on that, though. Which was good. (Or was it? Did Papyrus want her to question him? Did Papyrus want her to press? Accusations sat heavy behind his teeth, and it was only by virtue of the fact that Frisk was sick, that he needed to be here, to take care of them, that he didn’t spit them.)

“Yeah!!! Are you ready for our training later today?”

Papyrus’s SOUL burned at the casual lilt to her voice. Like she hadn’t murdered his child. Like she hadn’t skewered them and chased them down. Like Papyrus hadn’t just spent hours healing them and cleaning up their blood from the floor and his body. Like they weren’t sick now because of her. 

“ABOUT THAT! I need to reschedule! For the foreseeable future! Because something has come up that will take me a while to deal with!”

Undyne’s face twisted into confusion. “HUH? You never reschedule!”

Papyrus gritted his teeth. “I am now! OH! And Undyne?”

“Yeah?”

“I heard you found the human earlier today? Have you decided not to murder them anymore?”

The words burned like acid as they dripped out of his teeth. Undyne’s face screwed up into an infuriated and annoyed expression. But. Papyrus knew her. So he saw the resignation that filled her.

“I’m NOT going to be friends with them, Papyrus! They are the enemy of our people! The reason we are stuck down here!”

That wasn’t a no. And Papyrus didn’t particularly want Undyne anywhere near Frisk, anyway. But he needed confirmation.

“That is blatantly untrue! They were not born until long after the barrier was made! And you didn’t answer my question. Are you still planning on FIGHTing them, Undyne?"

Maybe it was the serious tone to his voice. Maybe it was the firm way he pushed back like he never did with her. Maybe it was the clear defense that he took of the human. Maybe it was all three of those. But Undyne quieted down and furrowed her brows in confusion and anger instead of immediately jumping back to screaming.

“... They won. They beat me. I’m not going to chase them down anymore.”

Good.

“That’s good! I will see you around! …And Undyne? Don’t come over."

Papyrus realized that Undyne might come over just because she was curious at that point… Part of him wanted her to. Wanted her to take that unspoken challenge. Wanted to HURT her like she hurt Frisk.

Papyrus froze. Oh.

That was. Unexpected.

Best to be safe.

“Sans is sick! Throwing up all over the place! It’s very gross and not very fun at all! If you come over, you might get covered in vomit! And we wouldn’t want that!”

Undyne made a grossed out expression, and Papyrus clicked his phone shut harder than he normally would. His hands were shaking.

He paused for a moment and took a deep breath in. He forcefully relaxed his hands and unclenched his teeth. And then he turned back to the stairs to go check on Sans and Frisk and tried to push down the resentment boiling in his SOUL.

It only somewhat worked.

###

Papyrus sat across from Frisk, a safe distance away. It was his turn to watch them. He and Sans had been making sure that one of them was by Frisk’s side at all times, exchanging the cloth on their head and taking care of them.

Monster medicine… didn’t help all that much. Papyrus was pretty sure it was better than nothing, but from what he understood, Frisk’s fleshy little body was made up of all sorts of physical things. Medicine made to soothe magic did little to ease their physical ails.

Frisk had woken up a few more times, and a couple of days had passed. They were struggling to keep food down, expelling fouled magic and watery bile. It was gross, but it only served to panic Papyrus more. Their fever was still high, and it hadn’t come down much. Frisk was groggy and in and out of consciousness. They were still so skinny, and the sickness wasn’t helping. 

Anxiety stirred in Papyrus’s SOUL that echoed Sans’s, and he replaced the cloth on their head before he sat back away from Frisk again. He made sure there was a good distance between them. (What if he was making this worse? What if their HP fell? What if they fell down because of him?)

He only approached Frisk when he needed to.

Frisk was sick, but there wasn’t much more Sans and Papyrus could do. All they could do was pray.

###

Frisk was so cold, and their head was heavy and stuffed with cotton, and their stomach hurt. They wanted to cry. Nothing made sense. Where were they? When were they? They couldn’t stay awake.

Gentle humming filtered through the fog in their mind. Oh!

Tears filled Frisk’s eyes and their throat burned.

Was Wings back? Their angel? He would watch over them. They missed him so much.

But… something was off.

Something was petting their hair. Mr. Angel couldn’t do that. And the voice was a different font… Frisk tried to pry their eyes open, and they saw a blue blur. Who…? Did they know this person? They felt familiar. Even if it wasn’t their angel, this person felt safe.

Wait. This was… Sans…? Yes. Sans. Frisk knew Sans. Sans was safe.

Losing the fight for consciousness, Frisk drifted back to sleep, comforted by the familiar feeling of magic that lay in the air.

###

A spike of pain shot through Frisk’s head at the same time as nausea swiftly rose in their throat. They jolted over and grasped at an empty bucket that was next to them, emptying what little magic and water remained in their stomach.

Something came closer. Warm and bright and familiar, and it made Frisk’s SOUL relax as it brushed against their head and pulled their hair back and held it out of the way.

Dry heaves shook Frisk’s body, and snot and tears streamed down their face. Shivers wracked them and there was pain in their shoulder and legs and their whole body hurt. They wanted to lean into the soft touch and warm presence beside them.

Eventually, those awful, painful heaves left them and Frisk relaxed. Bright red came into their view as a gloved hand passed them a cup and helped them drink a few sips of water.

Bright red. They knew that hand.

The warm thing took the cup from Frisk when they were done, and Frisk realized the warm thing belonged to the same person as the hand. And then the warmth left them as their comfort drew back and tried to leave.

No!

They wanted him here! He made them feel safe!

Frisk blindly reached out through their shivers and blurry vision and grasped soft fabric in their hands as a hoarse cry tore from their throat.

“Pap…!”

###

Little hands twisted weakly into Papyrus’s sweater.

His skull was ringing.

This was… the first thing Frisk had spoken aloud since before he and Sans had taken them in. And it was? His name…?

Frisk didn’t talk because of anxiety. They’d explained it to him once. The words would get all choked up in their throat and they just couldn’t force them out, and Papyrus didn’t mind at all. Frisk preferred Sign, and that was completely okay. 

But.

They said his name.

…They… wanted him… to stay?

Enough that they forced words out of their throat? (Because it couldn’t be that they weren’t anxious around him. That couldn’t be right.)

Frisk’s hands were slipping from his sweater, their small surge of strength faltering.

Papyrus barely breathed as he slowly sat back down. His SOUL hammered in his chest as he perched stiffly next to them. Waiting for the smallest bit of bitter sharp fear to seep into their bond.

But all Frisk did was lean their slight weight against him, shivering and trying to clutch at his sweater. They practically fell into his lap.

Papyrus was frozen solid. Like a chunk of ice, floating down the river to melt into the CORE.

Frisk was shaking. Their teeth were chattering. And yet, they still were incredibly hot to the touch. Papyrus wasn’t very sensitive to temperatures, but they felt like they were burning.

Frisk turned their face into his sweater and clawed weakly at him. Papyrus inched forward and grabbed their blanket, pulling it achingly slowly over their shoulders. They didn’t let go of him. Next, Papyrus reached for the cloth that had fallen off Frisk when they jolted up earlier. He wet it again and wrung it out before he moved to place it back on their forehead.

Frisk flinched at the contact, scrunching up their face.

The ringing in Papyrus’s skull got louder as he froze and his SOUL dropped. He almost backed away. He almost left, but…

Papyrus reached for their SOUL bond and listened.

Frisk wasn’t scared. They were uncomfortable, cold, tired, and a million other things that came with being sick. But they weren’t scared of him.

In fact, he could feel them instinctively latching on to the bond, trying to take comfort from his presence.

Tension lined his spine. But, ever so carefully, he began to fill the room with a layer of his magic brimming with positive intent and comfort. Frisk practically melted into his side.

Haltingly, cautiously, achingly slowly, Papyrus wrapped his arms around them and pulled them into his lap.

Still no fear.

Papyrus looked closer at Frisk through their bond, as close as he could without actually taking out their SOUL. He sat and listened.

Love.

Love, and longing, and hurt. They hurt so badly. They were sick and their SOUL was damaged deep, deep down in a way that Papyrus could barely comprehend. But that hurt wasn’t fear of him. Not right then, at least. 

They loved him. So, so much. So much, Papyrus didn’t understand how their little SOUL could hold all that love.

As much as he loved them.

…How could he claim to love them after what he had done? How could they curl up in his lap so small, so trusting, when they were scared of him? When they had SCARS on them!? Scars that he had given them. On their body and SOUL.

But no. Frisk was laying in his lap, and they were more soothed than they had been since they had gotten sick. They were shaky and weak and miserable, but also so… content somewhere deep in them.

Frisk’s SOUL called out to Papyrus's, and he responded without thinking. He sent pulses of I love you, and you’re safe, I’ll keep you safe to them.

…He wasn’t making them more stressed.

Or, well.

He may have been. By staying away. Because they had a new bond. And instead of holding them close and letting them feel how much he loved them, how much he cared for them, he had held them away.

Slowly, Papyrus leaned back against the wall, cradling Frisk to him. Green light flickered to life as he sent another wash of healing magic over them, trying to soothe more of their aches and pains, even if it didn’t do much.

Frisk was so small. He didn’t deserve them.

He almost KILLED them. One HP. One HP. (Bones, snapping through their skin. Bright, sticky red showing up. Frisk falling into unconsciousness, their eyes rolling back up into their head in an unsettling display as they slumped down into the snow. Papyrus, carrying their limp form over to the shed, only to repeat the process two more times.)

Magic slid down Papyrus's face and splashed onto Frisk’s head.

He was crying.

Papyrus held Frisk close to him, his grip as tight as he dared. Not tight enough to hurt. Never tight enough to hurt. Not again. But enough that he held them against him so firmly that a crowbar couldn’t pry him off. Enough that the pressure of his grip pushed in their soft skin just a little bit. 

A flicker of warmth hit his SOUL.

Small. Quiet. Rudimentary. Instinctual.

He had let his emotions slip through their bond by accident. And Frisk felt that. And even in their unconscious state, even sick and tired and not well enough to do anything, let alone try to comfort him, they had sent a pulse of intent his way.

I love you.

Like a baby, latching on to a parent’s bond, too young to know magic, but enough to know love. Enough to let their instincts guide them. Even asleep, they tried to comfort him.

A quiet sob slipped through Papyrus’s teeth, and he leaned down and buried his face in Frisk’s hair.

Frisk was latching onto their bond, pulling as much comfort as they could from Papyrus’s presence. From Papyrus.

…

It wasn't something Papyrus deserved, but it didn't matter. He'd been staying away, but that was never what Frisk wanted. Maybe they'd accepted his offer to stay because they didn't have anywhere else to go, but that didn't explain the way they followed him around like a duckling, or the SOUL bond that formed. That never would have happened if they didn’t already think of him as family.

Was it healthy, they way they latched onto someone that hurt them? And even if it wasn't, was there anything Papyrus could do about it considering almost everyone down here had done the same to Frisk?

Papyrus reached a hand down and brushed his phalanges against Frisk's flushed cheek, his SOUL clenching as they turned into the touch.

"I'll keep you safe, Frisk."

Papyrus wouldn't deprive Frisk of their bond, or from what they wanted. But he wouldn't push them. He would never give them a reason to fear him ever again, and if that meant staying away when they were scared? Letting Sans handle their nightmares, and stepping back from any kind of force, or even position of authority?

He could do that. 

Papyrus wasn't their dad, but he would be the best big brother he could be. And if something ached in his chest at the thought, it didn't matter, because Frisk's comfort and safety came first.

Papyrus had done a bad thing—an unforgivable thing. But he would apologize when they woke up. He would do better. Frisk deserved what they wanted, and they wanted him .

Frisk turned into him once more, their fingers twisting into his sweater, and Papyrus let out a watery laugh.

"Nyeh heh heh. I suppose if you want me with you, that's where I'll stay. I will do better from here on out!"

After all, anyone could be a good person if they tried.

Chapter Text

Sans carded his phalanges through Frisk’s hair as he absently flipped through a human health magazine with his other hand. At some point, Frisk ended up sleeping on his chest as he read.

Sans paused his reading and flicked his eyelights down at them. He pressed the back of his hand against their forehead.

…Still warm. But not as much as earlier.

Frisk was doing much better, and some of the coiled tension that filled Sans’s SOUL released.

Frisk’s illness had been terrifying. There was nothing Sans or Papyrus could do for Frisk while they were sick except sit with them and try to ease their discomfort. Water, a cool cloth, healing magic—the things they needed to get better were similar to how he would treat a monster. It was just that medicine didn’t ease any of their sickness.

But while Frisk was struggling, the entire community of Snowdin and even some of Frisk's friends from Waterfall had stepped up. Healing food packed full of positive intent, blankets, medicine, and various other care packages had found their way to their front porch. Frisk had made such a difference and so many friends, and those friends wanted to help when Frisk needed it.

A quiet knock drew Sans’s attention up to his bedroom door. Papyrus was nearly vibrating in place as he tried his best to contain his energy and not wake Frisk up by being noisy. Frisk may be getting better, but they were still sick, and they needed all the rest they could get.

“It’s here! Come on, Sans.”

Papyrus’s voice was vibrant, and Sans relaxed even further.

Papyrus still wasn’t… okay. He had a horrible guilt that churned under the surface when he held Frisk. And… his SOUL was damaged. Perhaps permanently. He had held Frisk as they died, and even more than Sans knowing that Frisk died, Papyrus experienced it.

That left trauma that would stick to Papyrus’s SOUL.

But.

“Sans, come on, you lazybones!”

Sans smiled and brushed his hand against Frisk’s head one more time, pushing their hair behind their ears.

Papyrus didn’t let that stop him. No. Papyrus was bright and optimistic in a way that Sans envied. He’d had some kind of epiphany during the worst of Frisk’s illness. And while he still hurt, he slowly returned to his normal self. 

Slowly, Sans shifted Frisk so that they were lying next to him instead of on top of him. Their face scrunched up as they tightened their grip on his shirt. Sans let out a quiet chuckle and bent down to untangle the fabric from their little fingers carefully.

Guilt still ate at Sans, and Frisk was still stuck in an Underground where there was an order out for their SOUL. They weren’t safe. And they had died.

Did it really matter? Even if Frisk died, they would just come back again. Nothing was permanent. Nothing mattered.

Sans's SOUL squeezed, and if he could have, he would have clawed those thoughts out of his skull with a rusty spoon.

It mattered to Frisk. The memory of it was permanent to Frisk. …And now to Papyrus as well. Maybe… maybe even Sans, eventually. If he got up the courage to ask Frisk if they would accept him as family. Even though they didn’t trust him. Even though he hadn’t protected them.

Across the room, Papyrus’s smile tightened, and his shoulders gained a strained edge as he picked up on Sans’s spiraling thoughts. So Sans purposely shoved them away. He wouldn’t let his own issues drag Papyrus back down when he had good reason to be happy right now.

Instead, Sans looked down at Frisk. There was something in his chest that tugged at him as he finished slipping out of Frisk’s grasp and pulled the blanket up over their shoulders. Then, Sans took off his jacket and tucked it into their arms. They latched on immediately, bringing it close to their body and burying their face in it.

Sans made sure their water bottle was filled before he walked over to meet Papyrus at the door, whose worry had faded back to vibrating impatience as Sans allowed his negative thoughts to drift away. Sans snickered at Papyrus's tapping foot.

“i’m coming, i’m coming. i guess i’ll help. two skulls are bedder than one after all.”

Papyrus’s eyes boggled as he looked at Sans and stomped his foot before he groaned. All much quieter than normal, mindful of Frisk snoozing on the other side of the room.

“Sans! That was terrible! Horrible! …You think your puns are the sheet, but they’re not!”

Sans froze and then let out a loud bark of laughter before he devolved into giggles. Papyrus immediately glared and snatched Sans by the collar and dragged him out of the room so he wouldn’t wake Frisk. Papyrus’s annoyance gave way to his own laughter as soon as he was far enough away, though.

It took a couple minutes before Sans calmed down, but he eventually composed himself enough to straighten up.

“okay, okay. so it’s here then?”

The grin on Papyrus’s face was blinding. Though… maybe not as blindly optimistic as it used to be.

“It’s here! Now come on, I’ve already brought it upstairs!”

They were right in front of the door to Papyrus’s room, and Papyrus pushed it open and dragged Sans in.

A half-built bed frame was in the middle of the floor, and a new mattress was next to it. Papyrus had gone out earlier today and picked it up from the general store. A dresser that hadn’t been there before was against the wall, and all of Papyrus’s things were shifted down to one side of the room.

Sans took a quick glance around and then reached for his magic. The next time Papyrus looked away for a second, Sans stepped through the pinch in space-time and made himself comfortable on the mattress. Papyrus’s brow bone twitched, but Sans cut him off before he could say anything.

“i see you already got started. whatcha need me to do?”

Papyrus sighed, but there was a smile on his face.

“Well! If you want to be useful, you can start moving Frisk’s clothes into their dresser!”

“seems like a lot of work. …but i guess i shawl overcome that challenge.”

###

Sans flopped on the freshly made bed, a sigh of relief escaping him.

“glad that’s done. i’m bone tired.”

Papyrus stepped back from the curtain that he had just hung across the room and put his hands on his hips.

“Sans! No more! Lazy puns! And you should not be tired! I did most of the work!!! Not to mention you took another of those eight hour naps last night!”

Sans’s grin widened across his face. The sense of normalcy was comforting, and with Frisk almost better, a little bit more joy and hope had crept back into the house. It helped that Papyrus assured Sans that Undyne would not be coming for Frisk again.

“c’mon papyrus, that one was a real rib tickler. and, uh, again—that’s called sleep, dude. you should try it sometime.”

“You are just being lazy! I am not amused, Sans!”

“you sure? you’re smiling.”

Papyrus’s face twitched and the corners of his sockets scrunched up in the way they always did when he was trying to stifle his grin.

“I am and I hate it!”

A comfortable silence fell over the room as Sans pushed himself back up to look over what all he and Papyrus had done.

There was a curtain now, separating a smaller section of the room and giving a bit of privacy to the bed in the corner and dresser by the door, and Papyrus placed a well-loved stuffed cat toy that he had dug out of his closet Frisk's pillow. Sans slid Frisk’s basket full of yarn and crochet hooks, as well as their almost finished blanket on the floor at the foot of their bed

After the furniture was in place, Sans had folded all of Frisk’s clothes (and then Papyrus had gone and re-folded them, anyway) and placed them in the drawers. And as a last touch, Papyrus had changed the sign on the door so that it read “FRISK AND PAPYRUS ALLOWED.”

Sans fell back down on the bed again and sighed.

It wasn’t very much, and it wasn’t permanent, but it would do until Sans and Papyrus could remodel the house. Honestly, they should have done this ages ago. Frisk had been sleeping on the couch. What a way to make them feel welcome. Was Sans ever going to be done fucking up?

…Sans wasn’t the only worried one right now.

Papyrus ventured over, and Sans shoved those thoughts aside to focus on the anxiety coming from Papyrus. Papyrus had pushed it away while they worked and had focused on his excitement. But now that the room was ready, Sans could tell that it had made a new resurgence.

Papyrus’s voice was subdued, the rasp of his font not quite as pronounced as usual when he spoke next.

“…Do you think they’ll like it?”

“i think they’re gonna love it, papyrus.”

…Sans hoped.

Papyrus perched next to Sans on the bed, and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. He was quiet in a way that used to be uncharacteristic of him, but had become heartbreakingly familiar over the past week.

After another long silence, Papyrus tentatively asked,

“What do you think is up there for them? The surface, I mean. Do you… Do you think we should return them?”

The air flew out of Sans’s teeth at Papyrus’s question, and he quickly tried to take another breath in. And then he sagged back further against the mattress and slammed his sockets shut.

Would Frisk be safer? Definitely.

Sans and Papyrus both knew firsthand just how not safe Frisk was. They had scars. On every inch of their body. They died. They were murdered.

But…

“... maybe. but it doesn’t matter. they can’t leave the underground. they’re just as stuck down here as we are.”

Papyrus stiffened next to him, and a jolt of shock came through their bond. Sans pried open a socket to see Papyrus looking down at him.

“What do you mean? That can’t be right!”

A short breath of air slid past Sans’s teeth.

“a human soul isn’t enough to cross the barrier on its own. frisk would need to absorb a monster soul. so… unless they dust a boss monster, they aren’t getting past. and we both know that’s never gonna happen.”

Sans hesitated for a moment before he continued.

“frisk is stuck down here.”

And then he let out a dry chuckle.

“guess us boneheads will just have to do.”

Heady, swirling relief  flooded through their bond for half a moment as Papyrus absorbed his words. And then it was overtaken by a deep guilt, sinking and oppressive as it filled Papyrus like a black fog.

Sans almost choked, and he barked his response.

"papyrus!”

Sans caught his breath and tried to ignore his own guilt that bubbled up in response. He had a pretty good idea why Papyrus had responded like that.

He had a good idea because Sans felt the same way.

Sans sat up so that he wasn’t lying down anymore, and then he reached out and grabbed Papyrus’s hand.

“papyrus. it’s okay. it’s okay to be relieved. they’re family. they’re our sibling. it’s okay to be relieved that we can keep them.”

Something deep in Sans settled at that. He was a hypocrite. It wasn’t until Papyrus needed to hear those words that it sunk in for Sans. Neither of them were wrong for loving Frisk. Because that’s what it was.

Papyrus’s sockets widened, and his shoulders tensed.

“It’s not right, though! Why should I be relieved that they are in danger?! They will never be truly safe or happy down here!”

Sans grabbed Papyrus’s hand tighter.

“you’re not. you’re relieved that you aren’t going to lose them.”

Something about that must have broken through to Papyrus, and his guilt eased just enough that Sans could breathe again.

If Sans or Papyrus could ensure Frisk would make it to the surface, and to a family that would love them as much as they deserved, he knew they would do it. It would break them. Frisk was family. Frisk was theirs. They fit. Frisk with their big heart and endless curiosity, their love of pranks and jokes, and everything that made them, them.

But if it meant they would be safe, far away from monsters who were hunting them down, and no longer in the middle of a kingdom that had declared war on their whole species, Sans would give them up. He knew Papyrus would give them up, too.

But they were allowed to be relieved that they didn’t have to. Because that was normal when you loved someone.

“I… suppose.”

Papyrus clutched Sans’s hand back and took a deep breath. And then he put on a smile that was a bit crooked, but still genuine.

“…They are very great, after all! Anyone would be lucky to have them!”

Maybe one day Sans and Papyrus would be able to breathe without guilt haunting their every step. But right now, all they could do was their best.

Sans leaned onto Papyrus. And then he flung his arm around him and went limp, like the most annoying deadweight in the world as he poked Papyrus’s skull.

“yep. and i’m super lucky. because i have both you and frisk.”

Sans was lucky. He would do his best to remember that.

Papyrus pushed at Sans playfully, but Sans stayed flopped onto Papyrus. Papyrus shoved Sans again, but Sans just blipped over to Papyrus’s other side and leaned on him as he grinned and he kept dodging Papyrus’s attempts to remove him. Eventually, Papyrus decided that if he couldn’t get rid of Sans, he would just do his best to annoy him back.

So Papyrus flopped back, and Sans let out a huff of air and laughter, caught between Papyrus’s back and the wall.

He reached for his magic and blipped next to Papyrus before he fell back on the bed again, letting their game die down.

They sat like that, smiles on their faces for several long minutes more. But then Papyrus broke the silence.

“Sans? Does Frisk know about the barrier? Because it seems like that is very important information to have.”

Sans didn’t want to let go of the brief moment of joy he and Papyrus had managed to grab. Still, he sighed and stared back at the ceiling.

“…no. i don't think they do. i need to tell them. i was going to tell them soon, i just… don’t know when.”

Papyrus laid back on the bed for a moment more, guilt and anxiety still simmering quietly through their bond. But then he jolted upright so fast that Sans had to dodge out of the way of flying limbs.

Papyrus fixed Sans with the same blinding smile he’d had since he was a baby bones.

“Well, no time like the present!”

Sans’s sockets shot open, and his SOUL stilled for half a second.

“wait, now?!”

“Yes, now!”

Sans wasn’t sure if he wanted to run. He honestly wasn’t sure what he thought about doing this all now, because Papyrus didn’t give him time to think. No, Papyrus, with a spark of mischief in his SOUL, stood up and then scooped Sans under one of his arms.

“hey, let’s be reasonable about this! come on, pap, i don’t even know what i’m going to say!”

Papyrus ignored him and marched down the hall. The carpet flew by under Sans’s gaze, and it was only a handful of seconds before Papyrus knocked quietly on the door twice to alert Frisk and opened it the rest of the way.

“Frisk? I’m coming in!”

Frisk had woken up while Sans and Papyrus were gone, and they were idly petting at Sans’s jacket, but at Papyrus’s words, they looked up.

Sans froze as Papyrus reached around and plopped Sans on the floor in front of Frisk, pushing down on his skull to ensure Sans wouldn’t run away.

“Sans has something he wants to talk to you about! And now! I am exiting the room! I will be right outside the door! If you need me!!!”

Amusement bubbled up in Sans’s chest past the panic as Papyrus made his way back over to the door and sat on the ground just outside. He wasn’t fully out of sight and was very clearly eavesdropping. He even poked his head around the door just enough to look into the room so he could see if Frisk signed anything.

A giggle slipped past Frisk’s lips before they turned their head up to stare at Sans.

Sans stared back down at them… They really were so small. Did they want to go back to the surface? Did they feel like they had to?

Slowly, he sat down next to them on the mattress, far enough away that he wasn’t crowding them, but close enough to offer comfort if they needed it. Sans was so much larger than them, and it would be so easy to intimidate them by accident.

And the last thing Sans needed was to be threatening when he was telling them they were stuck down here for good.

Stuck in the place they died. Where they were being hunted down.

Sans leaned back against the wall, and he moved to put his hands in his jacket, but he realized at the last second that he wasn’t wearing it. So instead he balled his hands up at his sides as he tried to push the anxiety down.

And then he unclenched his hands, made sure the grin on his face was relaxed, and he forced the tension from his shoulders.

Sans glanced over at Frisk.

“how are you feeling?”

They shrugged and twisted the fabric of his jacket between their hands. Tension lined their spine and their lips tilted down in a frown, a slight furrow in their brow. The longer Sans waited, the more anxious they got.

“right. sorry. you probably aren’t feeling very well still.”

For all Sans could yap, he was horrible at talking when it mattered. Sweat beaded on his skull, and he coughed into a fist before he sighed.

“so… uh… not sure how to say this. i guess i’ll just… start?”

He tugged at his collar before moving to fiddle with the fabric of his shorts.

“the barrier doesn’t just trap monsters. a human soul isn’t powerful enough on its own to cross the barrier. you need a human and a monster soul. without that, you can't get past.”

###

Frisk stared at Sans, their stomach twisting up all weird. Their heart felt kind of funny.

“frisk—i’m—i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier.”

Frisk wasn’t sure what to think. They still were kind of groggy from being sick and this took a moment to process. Frisk… thought that Sans was finally going to tell them to get out. He was so nervous and the longer he stared, the worse Frisk felt.

But Frisk wasn’t sure what he said was much better.

They were… never going to see the surface again? That meant… they would never see Mr. Angel again? …Wings?

Frisk’s heart thumped uncomfortably in their chest, and tears stung at their eyes.

No. They wouldn’t cry. Really. Heck, for all they knew, they would never see Mr. Angel again anyway. He had been missing for a week before they fell. Who was to say he would come back?

(He disappeared sometimes. But he always apologized.)

("I’m sorry, Frisk. I promise, though, I’m still there most of the time, even if you can’t see me. It’s just that, at times, things get to be too much, and the scraps of my SOUL hesitate to stay together. Despite that, the magic in the area has good resonance with my own and…”)

(Frisk had drifted off then. When Mr. Angel got going on something science related, they had no hopes of following what he was trying to say.)

Wings…

They hadn’t seen him in so long. Why hadn’t he followed them like always?

(He once told them he was trapped far away from his home.)

(“Ha. It’s a great twist of fate. Cosmic irony, perhaps,” He said. “Once my life was dedicated to letting us escape, but now I can’t return.”)

(But then he smiled. “I am so very grateful that it led me to you, though, Frisk.”)

Wings always showed up. He’d never been gone this long. He was their angel, and he was supposed to watch over them. But Frisk hadn't been watched over since they fell.

…Maybe their foster dad had been right.

Maybe Wings really was just their imaginary friend, and now Frisk was too big and boring to see him. (That thought hurt less than it being their fault they couldn’t see him. If they hadn’t climbed that stupid mountain…!)

Frisk asked Wings if he was real once, after yet another foster parent scolded them for their wild imagination.

He had looked sad. “In a way… I suppose. But yet not. Not really.”

Frisk hadn’t wanted to think about that. But they should have known. He wasn’t real. (He couldn’t be real. Because if he was real, that meant they really wouldn’t see him again.)

(He taught them things, though. He taught them to read and to sign, to crochet and so many other small things. How could he teach them if he wasn’t real?)

Frisk had watched so many happy families. They were jealous. Of course they dreamed up a dad. Why would someone want them? And now they’d outgrown him.

They weren’t ready to not have him anymore. They hadn’t even worked up the courage to call him dad. Only Mr. Angel in their head, and Wings when they talked to him.

(“My littlest star,” he crooned when they were lonely. “So brave. So strong. If only you could meet my boys.” He laughed then. "The lot of you would give me gray hair. And I don’t even have hair!")

Frisk’s vision blurred and their nose got all stuffed up as tears ran down their face.

Something cool hesitantly touched their upper arm, and Frisk peered through their watery eyes. Sans sat next to them and patted them awkwardly. He looked kind of panicked. Frisk didn’t feel good enough to find it funny.

“aw kid, i’m sorry. it’s not that bad down here though!”

He winced as soon as he said that, and the lines of his smile got more strained.

Frisk tried their best to bite back their tears. They were okay. They shouldn’t get so upset over a silly little imaginary friend. It wasn’t bad down here. They had lots of friends and Sans and Papyrus were amazing. Frisk was happy.

(...Until they got kicked out. This was temporary.)

If Frisk stayed down here, they could visit them all the time as long as they still wanted to be friends when they overstayed their welcome.

If Frisk ended up on the surface, never to see Sans or Papyrus again… A sharp pain tore through their chest. It felt wrong.

Frisk reached up and scrubbed at their eyes roughly, pushing away their tears. Sans still looked panicked, and even though Frisk couldn’t see him very well from where they were sitting, they were pretty sure Papyrus was kind of panicked, too. Panicked and upset.

"I’m okay.”

Big kids didn’t cry.

“frisky…”

The nickname tore through Frisk’s chest again, just like it did anytime Sans used it. They just… They wanted a hug. Really bad. They couldn’t breathe through the yucky feeling in their nose, and their head ached. They didn’t feel good and they just… wanted a hug.

And somehow, Papyrus seemed to know that.

“Oh my god, Sans! Hug them!"

Sans hesitated for half a second, and Frisk was about to reassure him they were fine. But then Sans leaned forward and opened his arms. He was moving real slow, and Frisk was pretty sure that if they wanted to, they could stop him.

But they didn’t want that. So, with their head pounding from their headache and tears pouring down their face, Frisk jolted forward and latched onto Sans’s shirt.

His chest vibrated under their cheek as he hummed and swept them the rest of the way into his arms, closing Frisk off from the outside world as he bent down and pressed his teeth to their hair.

And then he drew back for half a second, but it was only long enough for him to drape the warm fabric of his hoodie around them. It didn’t fit Frisk at all. Their feet didn’t even really poke out of the bottom when they stood up with it on, but it was warm and soft and felt like Sans.

He pulled them back into a hug and Frisk twisted their fingers into his shirt and tried to push back the tears falling down their face. They sat there for a while, soaking in the warm feeling of Sans’s arms around them. Of feeling… loved. Selfishly pretending that this was theirs to keep.

But eventually, they drew back. Because this wasn’t theirs to keep. And if their stay in the Underground was permanent, they needed to know what was going to happen next.

…Maybe this was a desperate, selfish plea. Because Frisk wanted to stay. Maybe. Just maybe. A little part of them hoped that the answer to their question would be “here.”

So they asked.

"Where will I stay?”

Sans’s face twisted up all funny, and he looked like he was about to say something. But before he got a chance, Papyrus leaned even further into the room from where he had been watching, almost falling all the way in.

“... Here? Here, we were hoping! Where else would you stay?”

Oh.

Frisk’s chest hurt. It hurt really bad. It was heavy, and they also kind of felt like someone had just punched them in the gut.

They didn’t actually expect that.

They twisted their face up in confusion and tried to answer Papyrus’s question. “I don’t know?”

They just… thought they’d figure it out like usual.

Sans sucked in a quick breath next to them.

And then Sans looked at them, and his sockets were wide and sad as he reached out for half a moment before he placed one of his hands on their arm.

“... frisky. when… when we offered you a place to stay, we meant forever. or at least as long as you want it.”

That didn’t make sense. This was what they wanted, but Frisk wasn’t supposed to get what they wanted.

Water dripped down their cheeks and splashed onto Sans’s jacket, leaving dark splotches in the fabric.

“But why?”

Now Sans looked like someone punched him, which wasn’t fair, because Frisk was the confused one. He and Papyrus were the ones being weird!

The weight of Sans’s hand on their shoulder got heavier as his fingers tensed up. And then they loosened again as Sans gave Frisk a long look and warmth surrounded them.

“because we love you.”

Love you.

Frisk’s heart froze in their chest, and they couldn’t breathe as Sans squeezed their shoulder, and Frisk thought they… maybe saw a tear in his socket.

The air rushed out of Frisk. A small sound slipped past their lips.

And then with a pain in their chest and their throat scratched raw and burning, Frisk wailed.

Sobs and hiccups tore out of them, and their head pounded with the force of their headache as they buried their face in Sans’s shirt and twisted their fingers into the soft material. Frisk’s eyes were glued shut and sticky from their tears and they couldn’t breathe through their nose as Sans wrapped his arms around them again and petted their hair. His chest vibrated under their cheek as he spoke.

“i’m sorry, frisk. i should have told you. i don’t say it enough. i’m a right bonehead sometimes. we want you here, kiddo. you’re part of this crazy family and we love you so, so much.”

At some point, Papyrus made his way over and sat down next to them and Sans on the mattress and put his hand on the small portion of Frisk's shoulder that wasn’t buried in Sans’s arms. Frisk’s headache eased up just a little as warm green magic flowed over them.

Was Frisk dreaming? Did… did Papyrus want them too?

Did he love them?

They pulled back from Sans just enough to look at Papyrus. They craned their neck back to see his face, and Papyrus looked down at them with the softest and most gentle look Frisk had ever seen.

There was a slight tug in their chest and then they felt so warm and loved. And for some reason, they felt like Papyrus was maybe sad too, even if he didn’t look like it.

Frisk didn’t want to wake up, because they were dreaming. Nobody wanted Frisk. Frisk didn’t belong anywhere, no matter how much they wanted to.

But Frisk didn’t say that. …For some reason, they didn’t have to. Papyrus leaned forward and pulled both Sans and Frisk into his arms.

“Of course you belong here! You’re family.”

And then he squinted down at them as Frisk’s heart squeezed uncomfortably, and his next words were hesitant.

“You’re… you’re ours. If you want to be, that is! And we’re yours, of course!”

Theirs.

Theirs, theirs, theirs, theirs.

Frisk always wanted to be somebody’s. But nobody wanted them. No family wanted them for keeps.

They took a deep gasp in and reached out to grasp Papyrus’s sweater in one of their hands, not letting go of Sans with the other. Their voice was weak, but they didn’t want to let go of Sans or Papyrus to sign.

“You’ll… you’ll get rid of me, though.”

STUPID! Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did Frisk say that? Did they want to speed up the process?

But Sans’s arms tightened around them, and so did Papyrus’s. Something sharp and unpleasant filled their chest for half a second before a weird, muffled feeling like cotton took over.

"Never."

Papyrus choked out his response with a watery voice.

"Not ever. I will never, ever get rid of you. I couldn’t. I will never want to. You’re my little sibling.”

And then Papyrus let go of his grip on Sans and Frisk to draw back. Sans loosened his arms around Frisk just enough that they could turn around and face Papyrus fully.

There were tears on Papyrus’s face. How did a skeleton cry?

…Frisk hated seeing him cry.

They ignored the tears in their own eyes, and they reached up without thinking, but he towered so far above them they didn’t even come close to reaching his face. Papyrus leaned over to meet them though, and Frisk put their hand on his cheek.

His tears were cool under their hand, and his skull was smooth. 

He let out a funny sound. Frisk wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or a cry as more tears poured out of his sockets.

Papyrus reached up and put his own hand on top of theirs. And then he pulled it away from his face and cradled their hand in his own.

Or… tried. His hands were bigger than Frisk’s entire head, so it looked kind of like Papyrus was trying to hold a doll.

But his gloves were soft, and his grip was so gentle as he held them.

“Frisk. You’re my little sibling. You’re in my SOUL now. But even before we had a bond, I wanted nothing more. I could never get rid of you. Not unless you wanted to go.”

Frisk sucked in a deep breath. They pulled their hands back to sign, and Papyrus let them go.

“I don’t know what you mean! And what do you mean B-O-N-D?”

They shouldn’t be question it. They shouldn’t question him. Because if they pushed, then surely he would take it back. Or maybe Frisk would finally wake up.

They were Frisk. Nobody wanted Frisk. They weren’t anybody’s. But here Papyrus was, telling them they were his sibling, his family. After Sans told them he loved them.

Frisk didn’t understand!

But Papyrus just gave them a funny look.

“…a SOUL bond? We have a SOUL bond now. Surely… surely you know?”

Frisk stared at Papyrus with wide eyes and quivering lips.

“…What’s a SOUL B-O-N-D?”

Papyrus’s sockets widened, and Sans’s arm tightened around their waist. It was Sans’s voice that quietly rumbled above their head next.

“frisky? do humans not… have SOUL bonds?”

Frisk shrugged helplessly and more tears stung at their eyes. They were doing something wrong, weren’t they? They were supposed to know something, and they didn’t, and now Sans and Papyrus were confused and upset, too.

Papyrus made a small, startled sound, and then reached out to grab Frisk’s hand again.

“That is! Completely okay! It’s okay, Frisk! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have assumed. Please don’t be upset! This isn’t your fault!”

Words escaped Frisk like they always did. They should at least sign something, but all they did was stare at Papyrus’s hands wrapped around their own as tears fell from their eyes.

“It’s all okay! It’s never too late to learn!”

He squeezed. Just a little. And then he drew back and signed as he spoke out loud.

"SOUL bond.”

Papyrus waited for them to make the sign themself before he continued.

“That’s the sign for SOUL bond! And a SOUL bond is, well… a bond. Between SOULs! They form between loved ones.”

And then he stared at them hard for a moment before he gestured to his chest.

“I’ll show you.”

He made a small motion as he pulled his hand back away from his chest. Frisk couldn’t look away as an upside down heart followed. It was white and glowing, and so, so pretty.

It was… warm.

There were faint strands coming off of it, kind of like a spider web, wispy and thin. One of them was a light blue color, and it lead to Sans.

But…

Frisk swallowed down the weird feeling they got in their stomach as they looked at the bright red strand on Papyrus’s SOUL that led right to their own chest.

Papyrus’s voice was quiet as he gestured to the strands.

“These are my bonds. My family that I love with my whole SOUL, and who love me. So much that we are connected. The most important people in my life. This one is Sans.”

Papyrus brushed his hand through the blue strand.

And then he reached his hand out and rested it on Frisk’s chest where the red strand disappeared, the tears from earlier still drying on his face. Something warm and soft but also achy settled over Frisk and filled them up.

“And this one is you, Frisk.”

Frisk’s face scrunched up again as they hunched their shoulders and buried their face in their hands. They tried to hide the way they shook and cried with yucky snot and tears dripping down their cheeks.

This wasn’t real. It wasn’t. There was no way this was real!

Sans tightened his arms around them, and Frisk leaned into him. The warm, achy feeling filled Frisk’s chest again and surrounded them, and Frisk felt loved. Papyrus moved his hand up from their chest to cradle their cheek, and slowly, with only the slightest amount of pressure, wiped their tears away.

“I love you, Frisk. So very, very much.”

A high-pitched whine slipped past Frisk’s lips. They didn’t mean to. They really didn’t. But they reached their hands out towards Papyrus as they made half a motion to launch themself at him before they held back.

Papyrus made a quiet sound, a coo that might have been their name. And then, with a small gesture, the bright SOUL in front of him disappeared back into his chest and he opened his arms.

Sans gave Frisk one last squeeze, and then he passed them over to Papyrus. Papyrus wrapped them up in his arms, pulling them close to his chest as he hummed. Frisk latched on to Papyrus’s sweater immediately, trying not to cry anymore. But they couldn’t help it.

Papyrus didn’t care, though. He didn’t scold them for being loud or noisy or overreacting. He just held them close and hummed and pressed his teeth to their head in a kiss.

Eventually, Frisk’s tears died down into occasional hiccups.

Papyrus’s chest rumbled under their cheek as he spoke.

“There’s a bit more to it as well. Are you okay to keep going? We can always take a break, you know! You are still sick.”

Frisk tightened their grip on Papyrus for a second before they let go to sign.

"I’m okay. ”

…If they stopped now, then Frisk wouldn't know how this dream would end.

Papyrus ran a hand down their back, warm green healing light flickering over them. It soothed more of Frisk’s headache that had popped back up from their crying and sickness.

Sans made a sound like he was clearing his throat and reached out to pass Frisk the metal water bottle that had been sitting next to the bed.

"water-ever you are planning on doing, you should probably drink first.”

Papyrus groaned quietly, but he slowly let Frisk down to sit on the bed so they could drink.

“Seriously, Sans? That doesn’t even work!”

Frisk took the bottle from Sans and took small sips, the water making them feel better as Sans and Papyrus spoke over their head.

"water you talking about? that made plenty of sense. a skele-ton of it.”

Papyrus narrowed his sockets, but his mouth twitched up at the side.

“I suppose I’ll bottle up any negative thoughts I have about your horrible jokes right now.”

Frisk snorted and almost spilled their water. Papyrus glanced over at them with a smile and more of that warm feeling that Frisk felt around Papyrus recently filled their chest again.

…Was that the bond?

Papyrus settled back again and gave them a long look. Something tugged in their chest as he did.

“...Are you sure you’re okay to keep going? I promise I’m not going anywhere, Frisk.”

Frisk nodded firmly. They needed to know what was going on.

“Well! If you’re sure! I will continue.”

Papyrus straightened back up like he did when he was about to explain a puzzle to them.

“What I showed you earlier are called familial, or platonic bonds. They begin to form when you spend time with someone and grow to love them. And then, if the people involved want, they can finalize a bond, which is what you saw earlier. They do that with a small transfer of magic, and, normally, intent.”

Papyrus got a funny look on his face. The cotton feeling from earlier was back in Frisk’s chest.

“...Once a bond is finalized, it connects you through your SOULs. These bonds let you know how someone is feeling if you are close enough, and also let you send emotions through the bond as well. Think of it like…”

Papyrus put his hand under his chin in thought.

“Like a phone! You can send and receive messages like a phone. But instead of messages, it’s emotions! Kind of like when you hug someone? A phone hug??? I think this metaphor is getting away from me…”

He furrowed his brow bone.

“Here! I’ll show you. For example! Right now, I want you to know how much I love you! And I want to offer you comfort!”

The cotton-y feeling in Frisk’s chest slowly faded, and the warmth from earlier replaced it. …The thing that felt like love.

Frisk took a quick breath in as tears stung at their eyes. If they understood Papyrus. It didn’t just feel like love.

He… really loved them?

Papyrus got that same funny look from earlier back on his face, though. There was a brief second of dark fog that felt like guilt that hit Frisk’s chest before the cotton feeling replaced it.

That was… probably not Frisk’s emotions?

“Frisk, I… Normally, the appropriate course of action is to ask if someone wants to finalize a bond if both parties involved are old enough to understand. I am so sorry that I didn’t ask. I didn’t mean to.”

Frisk’s heart dropped. Oh.

Papyrus’s sockets widened.

“No! No! That did not come out right at all! Frisk, I wanted a bond with you! It never, ever would have happened if I did not want it! That is not how it works! I just… was going to ask you first. It… It happened by accident. But I very much would have asked you soon, anyway!”

Frisk bit their lip hard. …Of course it was an accident. Papyrus was probably just being nice, and they got their SOUL stuck to his and he didn’t even want it, and now he was stuck with them.

Papyrus jerked back, and his face twisted up as he stared at them with a hurt expression. And then he reached forward and grabbed them again, yanking them against his chest.

The cotton feeling in their SOUL was gone startlingly fast. Instead, all sorts of emotions on top of their own filled their chest. It was a jumbled up mess and Frisk didn’t understand. Was struggling to understand that this wasn’t their imagination.

Papyrus held them close, and his voice had a pleading note.

“Frisk, listen. Please.”

…It was heavy and murky, and there was something that felt like guilt. Papyrus was also… really, really sad.

But that warmth was back.

The love was back.

And it was so heavy and full and warm, and it even ached a little from how much there was.

“We want you.”

He squeezed them tighter.

“I love you, Frisk.”

Frisk turned their face into Papyrus's chest and took a shuddering breath in, fingers twisting into the soft fabric as Papyrus's SOUL hummed under their grip. When their cries died down a bit, Sans pressed something cool into their hands as he passed them their water bottle again.

Frisk took it hesitantly.

Sans still sat right next to them and Papyrus, and once he passed the water over to Frisk, he made a move like he was trying to put his hands in his pockets. But… Frisk still had his jacket. So Sans’s hands just brushed up against his shirt.

Sans coughed and let out a little laugh. His shoulders were loose, and he had an easygoing grin on his face, but his hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“frisk, i, uh…”

He closed his sockets before he pried them back open a few seconds later.

“papyrus is right. we want you here. and i was wondering if… i was wondering if you wanted to finalize our own bond? you’re already my little sibling in everything but name at this point.”

Sans looked at them, and there was a serious weight to his words that Sans never had.

"you don’t have to if you don’t want to. you will always have a place here no matter what, i promise. but… if you wanted… there’s nothing i want more.”

Frisk’s breath hitched, and their heart thudded in their chest.

They didn’t understand. Nobody wanted Frisk. They came to a house; they stayed for a bit, and then whoever was watching them that time sent them on their way. That cycle repeated itself over and over until Frisk walked away one day. They saw other kids find forever families, but never them. There was something wrong with them.

Nobody wanted Frisk!

Nobody wanted Frisk, so they always tried so hard not to get attached.

Because if they did, they knew they would shatter into a million little pieces when Sans and Papyrus sent them away.

Like that ugly vase one of Frisk’s foster mothers had sitting on her end table that Frisk knocked over and broke and could never fix. That would be Frisk's heart.

Something warm swept over Frisk again as Papyrus squeezed them gently… love. The soft fabric of Sans’s hoodie brushed against their face as they shifted.

…But Frisk was already attached.

They’d already taken their ugly, breakable heart and put it right on the table, right where Sans and Papyrus could knock it over and shatter it into pieces.

But they hadn’t.

Instead, they were telling Frisk that they wanted them to stay. That they wanted to keep them. For good. For real.

Nobody wanted Frisk.

…But. Maybe someone did.

Maybe there were real people that wanted them. Maybe Mr. Angel was right when he said they’d find a family.

Frisk’s lip wobbled, and they moved to sit up, and Papyrus let them out of his arms.

And then Frisk launched themself at Sans and pressed their face to his shirt as they clutched at him and he grabbed them back just as tight. They got tears and snot all over his shirt, but he didn’t care. He just held them and reached up to pet their hair.

Frisk’s voice was weak, and it wobbled. It was barely more than a whisper.

“Yes.”

And then they said it again, just a little louder.

“Yes. Yes, please. Please."

They were expecting to wake up at any second now, or for Sans to pull back and tell them this was all just a prank.

But they didn’t. And he didn’t. Instead, San’s arms around them tightened for half a second before they loosened again. Sans’s voice rumbled through his ribcage.

“okay, frisky.”

He let go of them, and Frisk wanted to jump right back into his arms. Papyrus placed a hand on their shoulder and Frisk leaned into it.

And then Sans looked down at them, and the corners of his sockets were all scrunched up as he smiled.

“i’m going to channel a bit of my magic into my hand, okay? if you want, you can grab it, and our bond will be finalized.”

Sans chose Frisk.

He reached out towards them, his hand was glowing with a light blue magic that was the same color as his bond with Papyrus.

This wasn’t scary magic. Somehow, Frisk knew with every bit of them that this magic wouldn’t hurt to touch.

So Frisk lifted their hand, much littler than Sans’s own, and slowly reached forward as Sans waited patiently. He didn’t pull back his hand and tell them he changed his mind. He just… waited with that same soft smile on his face.

Frisk placed their hand in his.

Safety and comfort cradled Frisk, and they had felt like this before when Sans had held them, but this time the feeling around them had a purpose. Something deep in their chest clicked into place.

Frisk sucked in a gasp at the same time as Sans tightened his grip around them and tugged them against his chest.

Now that Frisk knew they weren’t imagining it, and understood what was going on, those funny emotions that had been in their SOUL made so much more sense.

Their chest was full with so many things that didn’t belong to Frisk. Papyrus was excited, happy, loving. He was still sad and guilty, but he was so warm and bright.

And Sans was warm too. He also had some of that sadness that Papyrus had, but he mostly felt… content? Really, really happy, and fond. His sockets squinted as he looked down at them with fuzzy eyelights.

A rush of affection and love washed over Frisk's SOUL, and their breath hitched at how much there was.

And then Sans pulled back and shifted so that he was only holding them with one arm. He made a small movement, just like Papyrus did earlier, and a glowing white upside down heart followed his hand. It was beautiful, with bright strands of light coming from it. One of them was the prettiest shade of orange Frisk had ever seen, and it led right to Papyrus.

And the other was red, just like the one on Papyrus’s SOUL.

It led straight to Frisk.

Sans squeezed them tightly and another rush of warmth and love and affection filled their chest from the same direction as Sans’s SOUL.

“do you see, frisk? see how much you belong? we love you.”

His grin widened, and he winked.

“and hey, now you can really see right through us.”

A groan tore out of Papyrus, and he gave Sans a disapproving look, but amusement bubbled out of him when he spoke.

“Really Sans? A joke during this very touching, once in a lifetime event? Must you?”

“i must. absolutely critical.”

Frisk let out a watery giggle and wiped away the tears drying on their face. They couldn’t look away as Sans made another small motion that made his glowing SOUL disappear.

Frisk couldn’t see it anymore, but they knew it was there.

They leaned back into Sans’s arms and smiled tiredly when Papyrus moved closer and swept both of them into a hug.

Warmth rushed over them again, filling them from the inside of their chest out to every piece of them. It was like the best hug in the whole world.

Papyrus squeezed, and his voice was wobbly when he spoke next.

“I love you, Sans. I love you, Frisk. I am so very glad you are here.”

Frisk could feel as Sans got sappy. They… They could feel Sans and Papyrus.

Their brothers. Their family.

“heh. i love you too, papyrus.”

And then Sans tousled Frisk’s hair.

“and i love you, frisk.”

Frisk swallowed thickly and pushed back the disbelief and exhaustion dragging at their eyes. They let go of Sans and Papyrus just enough to sign.

"I love you!”

Nothing about this felt real. Frisk wasn’t supposed to have a family. But… here they were, with Sans and Papyrus firmly latched onto their SOUL.

There was still someone missing, though, and Frisk’s chest ached when they thought about Mr. Angel. Even if he was fake, Frisk wasn’t ready to not have him.

But… fake or not, they were pretty sure wherever he was, he would be happy for them.

Frisk struggled to keep their eyes open, still not entirely convinced this wasn’t a fever dream. They were so tired, though, not yet fully recovered from their illness.

Sans let out a quiet hum.

“you should probably get some sleep, kiddo.”

Frisk twisted up their fingers in his shirt. They didn’t want to let him go.

Sans let out a little laugh and shifted to lean against the wall, bringing Frisk up to cradle them. Papyrus let go and backed up so that Sans could move.

“i’m not going anywhere. i’ll stay here.”

Still, Frisk fought against the sleep that wanted to take over, sure that when they opened their eyes next, none of this would have happened.

A familiar voice echoed in their head.

*Go to sleep, Frisk. Your family will be here when you wake up. It will be okay.

Frisk’s eyes finally drifted shut, comforted by the stray thought. Maybe… maybe if they were really, really lucky, this wasn’t a dream.

And then Frisk fell asleep, cradled in love and warmth, down to their very SOUL.

Because Sans and Papyrus wanted Frisk.

Chapter Text

“FRISK AND PAPYRUS ALLOWED.”

Oh.

Frisk’s breath hitched as they stared at the sign displayed proudly on Papyrus’s door, and they tightened their grip on Sans’s hand.

Yesterday hadn’t been a dream, even if Frisk could hardly believe it. When they woke up, Sans was still there holding them, and the warmth, the love, in their chest hadn’t left.

And now this.

Sans squeezed Frisk’s hand back and Papyrus looked down at them from where he stood next to the door. He was smiling, but worried, and… insecure? Frisk was still getting used to what they could feel, and figuring out which emotions were which.

…Before this, they didn’t know Papyrus could feel insecure.

In stark contrast to what he felt, he smiled at Frisk blindingly bright.

“While you were sick, Sans and I made some improvements to my room! And now it is our room, at least for the time being! Eventually, we will make space for you to have your own room, one as cool as you!”

Frisk stared for a moment longer, something they didn’t understand fluttering in their chest. Papyrus pushed the door open the rest of the way, and Sans tugged them forward gently.

“come on, kiddo. i think you’re gonna like it.”

Frisk followed numbly.

Papyrus’s cool room had changed. He’d moved his stuff all over, and there was a curtain separating off a corner of the room. In the new area, there a dresser and a bed, and the crochet things that belonged to Sans’s dad before Sans gave them to Frisk.

On the bed was a little stuffed cat.

Sans let go of their hand and ruffled their hair as Frisk stared. Their heart hammered in their chest and tears built up in their eyes, but they were just so happy that it hurt. And now Sans and Papyrus were content, pleased and happy, too.

Frisk walked towards the dresser and placed their hand on the knobs.

*You peek inside…

Pbbbbbbbbbfffftttt.

*It’s all of your clothes, folded neatly. There’s a whoopie cushion that was set to go off when the drawer was opened.

The tears in Frisk’s eyes fell down their cheeks as hysterical giggles left them. Behind them, Papyrus whirled to face Sans, his face a bright color as he tamped down on their bond and scolded Sans.

“SANS! This is not the time nor place for your tomfoolery! I can’t believe you would do that!”

Sans nodded sagely. “yep. can’t believe i did that. completely inappropriate.”

Amusement trickled over to Frisk from both of the skeletons as Papyrus continued to scold Sans with increasingly energetic hand gestures, and Frisk took the chance to slip over to the floor near the bed where the basket was sitting. They ran their hands over the soft balls of yarn as their smile widened.

*Currently having a ball.

Frisk let out another startled giggle before they turned around to look at the last thing in their new room. A bed, for Frisk, because Sans and Papyrus wanted them to stay here for good.

Frisk tugged at the sleeves of their shirt as they made their way up the bed. They stared at the little stuffed cat, and the funny feeling in their heart got heavier as it twisted. Hesitantly, they lifted a hand and pet its ear.

*A well-loved stuffed cat. It’s been through a lot, but it’s found its way to a new home.

Frisk’s breath hitched and their chest hurt.

…It was one of the softest things Frisk had ever touched. The cotton was worn down from age and patched in a couple of places with new fabric that had bone patterns.

Frisk had a cat before—a fluffy gray stray that shared the abandoned home they stayed in for a bit. Wings didn't like it at first, worried that she would scratch Frisk, but the kitty only ever helped Frisk. She brought mice Wings wouldn't let Frisk eat, and slept with them to keep them warm, and got her tongue tangled up in their hair as she tried to groom them. This stuffed cat looked like her, though not as fluffy. Just as soft, though.

Behind them, Sans and Papyrus quieted down. And then the bed next to Frisk dipped as someone sat next to them.

Cool bones swept across their cheek as Sans brushed their tears away. Frisk hadn’t even realized they started crying again.

“hey, frisky.”

His voice was gentle.

“i know it’s not a lot, but, uh. papyrus found that in his closet. we found it in the dump ages ago and we were going to patch it up eventually, but just never got around to it. when papyrus saw it, he thought… maybe you would like it? and so i fixed it up.”

Frisk’s fingers tightened around the toy.

It was beat up, but Sans mended it with so much care. 

Frisk had learned quick in the Underground that just about everything was recycled or a hand-me-down in some way. The important thing was just how carefully it was treated, and how much effort was put into repairing it. The stitches on this were even and tight, and the fabric that patched it was bright and colorful. It smelled like the laundry detergent Papyrus used.

Frisk ran their fingers over the fabric collar around its neck before they stilled completely. 

'Frisky’

There. In a silly font they didn’t recognize, tiny little stitches spelled out their name.

Sans let out a low chuckle, a pang of something nervous coming from his SOUL. 

“heh. so you found that. i just… frisky is a font. benguiat frisky. and i thought… well… it fit?”

Frisk’s arms shook, and they couldn’t see anymore past the tears thick in their eyes as a sob slipped past their lips. Why was Frisk crying? They weren’t supposed to cry. They never did before! They didn’t cry when they got into Encounters, and they didn’t cry when they got hit. 

Frisk was just… so happy.

They couldn’t speak in a font, not like their family, but Sans thought it fit—that Frisk fit.

They carefully put the toy down so they could sign.

“Is that why you call me F-R-I-S-K-Y?”

Sans stilled beside them before he let out a nervous laugh, and the weight of Papyrus’s gaze was heavy as he stared at both of them.

“it is. if that’s okay with you?”

Yes. Yes, Frisk didn’t want anything more.

Frisk blinked past the tears in their eyes and a grin spread across their face, wide and wobbly. They launched themself forward and latched onto Sans’s shirt. Sans chuckled and caught them easily, tugging them up into a hug.

“Yes.”

Their voice was hoarse and scratchy, but it was there. 

This was real. Sans wanted them. Papyrus wanted them. Frisk didn’t know how long this would last, but for now, it wasn’t a dream.

###

The warm feeling of Frisk’s joy grew stronger in Sans’s chest as he got closer to the center of town, and his smile widened.

It had been a couple of days since they’d made space for Frisk in Papyrus’s room, and Frisk had finally shaken away the last of their illness. And then, the active kid they were, decided that they needed to go out and thank everyone.

Things finally began to return to some sense of normalcy after what had happened with Undyne. But at the same time, everything had changed.

He’d bonded with Frisk now. Both he and Papyrus. And while they had been family for a while, now they were officially family.

Having a bond with Frisk was like a breath of relief as well. Sans had so much more insight into them. He knew when they were upset, or when they really just wanted a hug. Which was… pretty much all the time.

Before this, Sans had known Frisk was touch starved and physically starved and neglected. Nobody had taken care of them in a long time, and then they fell and things had gotten so much worse. Sans had already known a lot.

But their bond told Sans so much more. Even the quick peeks he had done at their SOUL when they had first fallen hadn’t told him nearly as much.

Frisk was hurt so, so badly. They were anxious and insecure. But they were still so lively. They didn’t let any of their hurt stop them from living and loving and giving everything their all, heedless of getting hurt again.

They also reminded Sans of himself, more than he hoped.

Because they wore a smile like a mask too, but Sans knew what was under the surface now.

Frisk had only been in the Underground for a week before Sans and Papyrus took them in. But a week of utter hell on earth, being stuck in an endless loop of dying and trying again, of getting hurt and injured and healing themself up was longer than anyone should ever have to put up with.

Dying once was traumatic. Even just getting pulled into a harsh FIGHT and being beaten bloody was traumatic. Sans still had nightmares about the time it had happened to him as a kid, and he hadn't even been alone—Dad had saved him before it had gone too far.

Frisk had gone through both countless times, and completely alone.

And yet, they still smiled.

Through every single Encounter Sans had seen, Frisk cracked jokes and hummed and flirted with the monsters attacking them. They had flexing contests and pet dogs and just… smiled. As sick as the thought made him, Sans was pretty sure they probably smiled right up until they died, too.

Yeah, Frisk reminded Sans a little too much of himself.

A slight tug on Sans’s chest made his smile widen as he spotted Frisk barreling towards him, MK hot in pursuit.

“Sans!”

Their cheeks were flushed and red from the cold and a real grin split their lips. A small chuckle left Sans as warmth filled his SOUL and he braced for impact.

Frisk had a whole lot of hurt in them that they hid. But they also had a whole lot of joy and happiness in them, despite everything. They made the best of what they were given and didn’t let the world keep them down for long.

Frisk collided with his legs, and Sans reached down to ruffle their hair.

“oof! hey there, kiddo. bit of a speed demon today, are we?”

They beamed up at him.

“I’m not fast! You’re just slow!”

Sans chuckled.

“slow, eh? i think anyone is slow compared to you right now.” He winked at them. “did you have fun today, kiddo?”

Frisk pulled back and began signing rapidly.

“Yeah! First I went around and said thank you to everyone, and Violet gave me a cinnamon bunny and told me she was glad I was better! And then I ran into MK and we’ve been playing tag!”

MK hopped from foot to foot eagerly next to them.

“It was great!" MK said. "It’s been so much more boring since you’ve been sick! Man, am I glad you’re better now!”

Sans laughed again and reached down to pat MK’s head too.

Sans hadn’t actually been too far off the whole day. Even if Undyne seemed to be content to leave Frisk be, Sans wasn’t comfortable risking something happening again. But he was glad to see Frisk enjoying themself again.

“i’m glad you had fun. you ready to head back home now? papyrus made dinner.”

“Yeah!”

Frisk turned to MK and tackled them into a hug as MK laughed and wrapped their tail around Frisk.

“Bye MK! I’ll see you later!”

“See ya, Frisk! Don’t get sick again, okay?”

Frisk giggled and darted back to Sans, stopping at his side to sign to MK.

“I’ll try!”

Frisk’s hand twitched at their side, and then they tilted their head as they looked up at Sans.

The thread of disbelief that Sans could feel through Frisk hurt, but he wasn’t sure what he could do to fix it, so he just smiled.

“well, frisky. i think you might be a little too fast for me today.” Sans winked at them. “dunno if i can keep up. howzabout i carry you on my shoulders? you get a ride, and i get to be as slow as i want. win-win.”

Frisk nodded their head eagerly, and Sans took the chance to lean forward and toss Frisk lightly in the air. Breathless giggles left them as he caught them and put them on his shoulders.

Life hurt, but they all had each other, so maybe everything would be okay.

###

Frisk tugged lightly at the sleeve of Sans’s jacket to get his attention. He was lying on the couch in the living room with a car magazine spread across his skull as he took a nap after dinner.

Sans lifted one of his hands and pulled the magazine down just far enough to peer at Frisk with one socket.

“Papyrus wants me to tell you that you need to bring all the mugs inside right now. …Why are the mugs outside?” they signed.

Sans’s smile widened under the magazine as a feeling of mischief brushed through their bond.

“i dunno. it’s pretty muggy out right now. think i’ll grab them when it’s a little nicer out.”

Frisk giggled uncontrollably as Papyrus sighed from the kitchen, the word ringing out in the house.

"SIGH. Really, Sans? Really? We live in Snowdin! That joke does not work nearly as well as you think it does! Making a mess of our dishware—it’s snow joke!”

Sans let out a snort that devolved into cackles as he let the magazine fall all the way from his face.

“aw, you don’t have to be so cold about it, papyrus. i’ll get the mugs later.”

Frisk tugged lightly at Sans’s sleeve again, still giggling, but ready to go get the mugs themself if Sans didn’t want to.

In response, another spark of mischief left Sans as he got a glint in his sockets. Faster than Frisk could react, and way faster than Sans had any right to be, he grabbed Frisk around the waist. 

Frisk could hardly breathe from how hard they were laughing as he put them in between himself and the back of the couch and threw his arm around them to pin them down. If Frisk really wanted, they could easily slip out from his grasp—he wasn’t actually holding them that tight—but Frisk didn't want to.

“oh no you don’t. i know that look. i’ll get ‘em myself later. for now i think we should just chill."

Well. Frisk wasn’t going to complain. Sans was a very good nap buddy, all cuddly and soft, even though he was made of bones. Frisk melted into Sans’s side and closed their eyes, soaking in the friendly contact.

Frisk used to pretend like they had a family when Sans or Papyrus would carry them or hug them like this. They were selfish and silly, pretending like that was really theirs to keep, that Sans and Papyrus actually wanted them. They had known that.

But, as Sans petted their hair, Frisk realized that maybe they hadn’t been silly. Selfish? Yes. But… Sans was holding them now. And Frisk didn’t have to pretend like they had a family anymore.

Because they actually did.

“Frisk?”

Frisk blinked their eyes back open, barely realizing that they had closed them. At some point, Papyrus had finished up the last of the cleaning.

Now he was standing across from them with a towel slung across his shoulder that he had been using to dry the dishes. He seemed anxious about something.

“Mmm?” Frisk mumbled a small sound to let him know they were listening.

“If you are up for it, there’s a bit more I need to teach you about SOUL bonds. And… I wanted to talk to you about your magic.”

At Papyrus’s words, Sans moved his arm off of Frisk so they could sit up. Reluctantly, they did, nodding at Papyrus.

“Good, good! Papyrus chirped. Give me one moment and then we can get started!”

Papyrus paced around a bit more, going outside to gather a few of the mugs before he made tea and brought a chair over near the couch.

Since Frisk had gotten sick, Sans and Papyrus had been giving them cup after cup of tea that was filled with healing magic. Even now that Frisk was feeling better, it seemed like this was a habit that wasn’t going to stop.

It was nice. Sans and Papyrus always did stuff like that—so many things that made Frisk feel loved and cared for, without even thinking about it.

Papyrus finished up what he was doing and carefully pressed a hot cup of tea into Frisk’s hands before he perched in the chair across from them.

“So! Bonds! There are a few things I didn’t get to tell you the other night, and first off is blocking and muting!”

Papyrus straightened up his shoulders like he always did when he taught Frisk something and then gestured toward his chest.

“Emotions can be a lot sometimes! And sometimes you might not want to feel Sans or I. Now, you can always ask us to mute our bonds! And we will do so. But you can also do that on your own!”

Brilliant white light drew Frisk’s eyes as Papyrus pulled his SOUL from his chest. Frisk’s heart ached when they saw the red strand.

It was still so hard to believe that this was real, and that Sans and Papyrus wanted Frisk. But that red light was filled with so much love and care, and every time Frisk felt a little bit of doubt, more warmth filled their chest.

It was like a secret message. Like Sans and Papyrus were whispering to them every time Frisk had a doubt. I love you. We want you. …You belong.

It didn’t make sense. Frisk still didn’t understand why… but it was hard to deny it when they could feel it in their very SOUL.

Papyrus gestured at the red strand.

“When you block Sans' and my emotions, that’s called ‘blocking!’ Blocking requires a small amount of magic control, but it is much easier than muting. You can do this by picturing the connection being muffled.”

Papyrus put his hand to his chin and hummed in thought.

“Think of it like… draping a blanket over the bond. You can still see everything if you look, but the blanket makes it so that you don’t have to see it if you don’t want!”

Anxiety spiked in Frisk’s chest.

Was Papyrus going to have them try? They would do what Papyrus wanted! They would! They would try. Frisk had only had these connections for a little. Surely they would be fine quieting them down for a bit? Still, though, the thought of cutting Sans and Papyrus off for even a second sent a sharp pain through Frisk’s chest.

A spark of worry that wasn't theirs filled Frisk, and Papyrus’s brow bone furrowed. Next to them, Sans put a hand on Frisk’s shoulder and tugged them closer to his side. He took Frisk’s now empty mug and placed it on the ground.

The worry in Frisk’s chest died down, and warm feelings filled their chest. Comfort. I love you. I’m here.

It was strong enough that Frisk struggled to feel anything else. Papyrus brightened his grin and, with a wink, put his SOUL back in his chest.

“But I think it might be best to save that for another day! In the meantime, if you ever want Sans or I to be quieter, just tell us!”

The frantic beating of Frisk’s heart slowed, and they gripped Sans’s jacket and gave Papyrus a wobbly grin. Papyrus leaned towards them and ruffled their hair, and Frisk leaned into the contact.

A pang shot through them when Papyrus drew back, but Sans replaced Papyrus’s hand with his own.

Papyrus straightened back up again to keep explaining.

“After blocking, we have what’s called ‘muting!’ Which means stopping your own emotions from leaking through the bond! Muting is a bit more complicated than blocking, and many young monsters struggle to get a hang of it while they are still in stripes.”

Papyrus leaned back in his chair and gave them a long look before he got up and started to pace. He did that sometimes, Frisk learned a while ago. They were pretty sure Papyrus and the word ‘still’ were opposites. He couldn’t sit in one place for very long.

“Normally, when you have a bond, your magic is reaching out and connecting with ours! It tells us what you are feeling. In order to mute your emotions, you have to pay close attention to your magic and separate the feelings you are putting into it.”

Papyrus paused and then shot them another grin, his smile softer than usual around the corners.

“This can be very tricky, because magic is emotion and intent! Eventually, though, it can become second nature. We can learn more about this later when you have a better grasp on your magic!”

Papyrus's enthusiasm faltered. His grin wobbled a bit, and he looked off to the side as an emotion Frisk couldn’t name came from him. Slowly, he sat back down in his chair.

“…Speaking of magic! There is one last thing that I need to tell you. Do you remember how a bond is finalized through an exchange of magic?”

He waited for Frisk to nod before he continued.

“Well, because of that, a bond creates a sort of link! That means that in your case, you may eventually find it easier to use blue and orange magic.”

And then he paused again and the heavy feeling in Frisk’s chest grew stronger. He gave Frisk a long look.

“…And in Sans's and my case, we have gained a small bit of your own magic. Not much. But. Enough to… remember.”

His voice trailed off as cotton filled Frisk’s chest.

“Your magic, Frisk… I don’t know if you remember, but a while back you told Sans… that… you died.”

His voice choked off, and Frisk’s eyes widened as their heart thumped loudly in their chest.

“I’ve been meaning to talk with you about it. About your magic and about our bond and… how it finalized. I… I didn’t mean to keep anything from you. I just haven’t had the chance to bring it up.”

Frisk twisted their fingers tightly into Sans’s jacket, and their chest hurt as they stared blankly at a spot on the carpet.

*You take a deep breath. In. And out.

A rush of air left Frisk as they remembered to breathe. A small voice in their head repeated those words as Frisk focused on their thoughts and followed along.

Suddenly, Frisk realized the room was quiet again, only the ambient magic playing the familiar, comforting tune filling the air. Sans’s arm was tight around them, and both Sans and Papyrus were looking down at Frisk with wide, worried sockets.

Heat stained Frisk’s cheeks, and they ducked their head, not able to look up at Sans or Papyrus.

“…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to not pay attention. Please keep going.”

Sans ran his hand down Frisk’s arm comfortingly, and Frisk leaned into the gentle touch.

“you don’t have to apologize. you didn’t do anything wrong. we can talk about this later if you want.”

Frisk shook their head violently as they sucked in another deep breath.

“No! Please don’t stop! I’m sorry! I need to know!” 

They chanced a glance up at Papyrus’s face. He set his teeth into a firm line and Frisk still felt cotton from him, but he sent them a pulse of comfort.

“If… If you are sure. I'm sorry. I know this isn’t an easy topic.”

Frisk nodded their head and did their best to send Papyrus a small grin of their own.

*It seems like the skeletons in your closet are coming out.

A startled giggle left Frisk at the thought and the grin on their face widened, some of the anxiety in their chest lessening. And then, because they thought Sans and Papyrus would appreciate the joke too, they decided to share.

“…I guess the skeletons in my closet are coming out,” they said.

Their voice cracked, still weak from disuse, but they got the words out all the same. And then they decided to add on to the joke.

“It was probably about time.”

It was dead silent for half of a second as Sans and Papyrus processed what they just said. Sans tightened his arm around them before dropping it entirely, and Papyrus stared at Frisk with his jaw dropped as Sans brought his hands up to his face and began uncontrollably giggling.

The cotton in Frisk’s chest died down and a sharp sensation of disbelief and amusement came from both Sans and Papyrus, if somewhat quiet and not as much as usual.

Papyrus let out a small “Nyeh” and then he also put his head in one of his hands.

“Oh my god. I—“

He let out another laugh, and next to them, Sans still hadn’t stopped laughing.

“What have you done, Sans?! This is—“

He laughed again, the sound a little crazy.

“Nyeh heh heh! Of all the habits to teach Frisk! They take after you, Sans! This is normally the part. Where we have a very emotional discussion! There will be lots of tears, but I am prepared! The most prepared! But your horrible humor slips in even here!”

Sans’s giggles hadn’t died down, and at his and Papyrus’s reactions, Frisk’s own laughter grew in volume and they clutched at their sides. Somewhere deep inside, Frisk felt a thrum of satisfaction at how well the joke had gone over.

Sans just barely evened his voice out enough to interject.

“hey! this isn’t all me! i know i’ve got a few rib-ticklers tucked away for big moments, but some of that is you, too!”

Sans had to stop for a moment to laugh some more before he could continue.

“heck, we lucked out. the kid came like this.”

It took a bit longer, but eventually everyone calmed down enough to continue the earlier conversation. Worry was sharp in Frisk’s chest again, but the mood had been lightened enough that they could breathe.

Papyrus also didn’t have as much cotton anymore, gazing down at them with the fondest look ever. He looked mushy, like he was staring down at the cutest puppy in the world.

Frisk didn’t deserve it. They didn’t understand why Sans and Papyrus cared so much, but they loved it, and they loved Sans and Papyrus so much it hurt.

Papyrus twitched, a more serious look coming over his face.

“Are you okay with continuing our earlier discussion?”

Frisk nodded. They were pretty sure they understood what Papyrus had been implying, but they needed to hear him say it.

“Okay. Then I will just say it! Ripping the bandaid off in a way! A very painful bandaid! Not that I ever understood that metaphor, because bandaids aren’t painful at all?”

…Sweat dripped down Papyrus's skull as he shot them glances out of the corner of his sockets and tugged at his scarf. Frisk wasn’t the only one having trouble with this topic. So Frisk slid off of the couch, their feet hitting the floor with a quiet thump, and Papyrus stared as they walked the few steps over towards him. And then Frisk grabbed his hand and tugged him gently over to the couch too, pushing him down.

Frisk would never have a chance of moving him if he didn’t want to be moved—Papyrus was the strongest person they ever met. But he came easily.

And then Frisk clambered into Papyrus’s lap and wrapped their arms around his middle. Papyrus’s breath hitched under their cheek as he hugged them back.

Next to them, Sans leaned over so that he was slumping on Papyrus.

“I… Frisk, I saw you die.”

Papyrus’s arms tightened as his voice wobbled, and he got so quiet, Frisk strained to hear him.

“It was when Undyne came into our house. I was trying to heal you, but… I couldn’t, and I accidentally finalized our bond when I was trying. And with the magic I got from you, it let me remember when I woke up. I’m sorry, Frisk. I’m so, so sorry.”

Papyrus shook, his bones rattling, and Frisk couldn’t feel anything other than cotton from him. But they didn’t need that to know that Papyrus was upset.

Frisk should be upset too.

Papyrus saw something that hurt him and he wouldn’t forget it, and Frisk was upset about that. They hated Papyrus being hurt.

But relief bloomed in their chest, so big and overwhelming it felt like Frisk was breathing after holding their breath for way too long. 

Because Papyrus would remember.

Sans, too.

They wouldn’t forget Frisk if they ever forgot to SAVE or didn’t get a chance. Frisk wasn’t going to lose any time with them, and Frisk felt a little less crazy, a little less confused, because they weren’t the only one that remembered anymore.

Papyrus’s arms tightened around Frisk again, and Sans put one of his hands on Papyrus’s shoulder as Papyrus cradled Frisk against him, his breathing funny.

Sans spoke quietly.

“papyrus. hey, pap. you still with us? frisk is okay. frisk is safe.”

“I’m—I’m fine. Just. Give me one moment, please.”

And then Papyrus shifted and Frisk could just barely hear him mumbling.

“Frisk. No blood. Clean shirt. Sans. Empty mug. Feel, what do I feel? Heartbeat. Warmth…”

His voice got too quiet for Frisk to make out, and they sat there in silence for a minute longer. Then Papyrus spoke up again.

“I’m sorry, Frisk. I just… I’m sorry.”

Papyrus’s SOUL thrummed quietly in his chest under Frisk’s ear. They let go of Papyrus just enough to draw back and look up at him.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry you have to remember. I know it’s scary.”

Papyrus slammed his sockets shut, and next to them, Sans took a quick breath in.

And then Papyrus carefully opened his sockets again, and looked at Frisk, a heavy look in his gaze.

“No, Frisk. Please don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry I have to remember. Yes, it’s scary. Especially because I thought I lost you for good. But I am glad I remember now, because you shouldn’t have to go through that on your own. I’m sorry, Frisk. That must have been very, very scary.”

Frisk’s eyes stung, and they leaned forward to bury their face in Papyrus’s sweater. They felt really little all of a sudden.

Frisk was eight. They were big and strong, and they’d been on their own for so long, with only Mr. Angel to watch over them.

He hadn’t been there since Frisk had fallen, though. He wasn’t there when Frisk died.

And so Frisk was alone. They were completely alone except for the people that wanted them dead, and they were okay because they were strong. And Frisk could handle it!

They could.

They did.

But… now Papyrus was telling them they shouldn’t have been alone. And…

“... It was scary,” Frisk admitted in a whisper, before their voice grew louder. “It was really scary. I didn’t know what was happening, and nobody remembered anything, and she kept killing me! It hurt! It hurt really bad.”

Frisk’s voice broke, and a tear slipped down their cheek as they scrunched their face up and tried to hold back a sob.

“I was scared.” 

It felt like a secret—like something they shouldn’t say. But something in Frisk’s chest cracked open at their hoarse words.

And then Papyrus picked them up and tucked them against his chest, ready to listen to any secret Frisk could admit to and to put the pieces back together if they fell apart. He pressed his teeth against Frisk’s hair and murmured to them, his own voice quiet and wobbly.

“I’m sorry, Frisk. I’m sorry. I’m here now. I’ll always be here.”

Tears and snot soaked into Papyrus’s sweater as Frisk cried into his chest, but for all that Papyrus liked being clean, he didn’t complain. He just held them closer, his bones rattling as he buried his face in their hair.

Another hand that wasn’t Papyrus’s landed on Frisk's back.

“i’m here too, frisky,” Sans echoed.

There was a quiet sound as Sans shifted. Frisk was pretty sure he had a hand on Papyrus’s arm now, too.

“i’m here for both of you.”

###

The day went on, and there was a tightness in Papyrus’s chest that only got heavier and tighter with time. Every time he closed his sockets, red flashed behind them.

Frisk was surprisingly okay. If anything, knowing that Papyrus and Sans would remember, that Papyrus did remember, had filled them with relief. And yet that only made the tightness in Papyrus’s chest worse, because how long had Frisk been dealing with everything on their own?

And how many times had Undyne killed Frisk?

“wow. what’d that rock ever do to you?”

Startled, Papyrus dropped the bag of sprinkles from where he’d been feeding the pet rock, spilling the rest onto the floor and plate.

Sans took one of his ‘shortcuts’ onto the couch behind him. He’d been putting Frisk to bed earlier, but he must be done now.

“Sans!!! Really? Must you be so lazy? You have two legs! You should use them!”

“why would i want to do that?”

Papyrus didn’t answer, and it was silent for a moment as he scooped some sprinkles on the plate back into the container and tried to ignore the ringing of his earlier thoughts.

“... pap.”

Papyrus tensed his shoulders and continued cleaning up

Sans probably wanted to talk. But there was nothing to talk about! Papyrus was fine!

“pap. i know i’m not good with words. i know neither of us talk as much as we should. but can you talk to me now? i’m here. i’m listening. i want to help you.”

Papyrus marched to the kitchen and slid the sprinkles away before pulling out the kettle and putting it on. It was only half a second later that he realized that Frisk was in bed now and wouldn’t be drinking tea any time soon.

He continued anyway. (He needed something to do with his hands. He needed to—he needed to do something.)

The problem was never that Sans wouldn’t listen. Really, for all of his faults, if Papyrus had asked to talk, Sans always would have dropped anything. But why would Papyrus want to give Sans more problems to deal with? He was so lazy! (He was so tired. So close to falling down.)

And Sans never talked about his own problems. So neither did Papyrus.

…Maybe. Perhaps. Just possibly, Papyrus was more similar to Sans than he thought.

“papyrus…”

The kettle whistled shrilly, and Papyrus plucked it off the stove before the noise could wake Frisk. He pulled out a box of tea and stared at it.

Golden flower tea. The kind Undyne drank.

Papyrus closed his sockets and ignored the flashes of blue magic and the bright splashes of red. And then he opened them and poured the hot water over the tea bags into two different mugs. He dumped a bunch of sugar in his own cup, and left Sans's plain.

“Sans.”

Papyrus carried the mugs over to the couch and pushed one into Sans’s hands before he shoved his legs off and sat down on the other cushion. 

“You must be feeling very upset! And anxious and overwhelmed. And guilty too.”

Sans certainly was. Papyrus could feel it. But…

“And… I suppose I am too.”

Papyrus tightened his grip on his own mug, trying to drown out the scent of blood with golden flowers.

“If I’m going to talk, though, you need to talk to me as well. I know you are also not okay.”

Sans tensed up before he fiddled with his own tea, taking a long sip.

“... i will. but right now i’m okay. earlier today, though… i think we lost you there for a little bit. and i’m not sure if we’ve got you back all the way. this situation sucks all the way around, but… how are you holding up?”

Papyrus stared into the steaming mug. His next words poured out of him.

“I don’t know, Sans.”

And then he lifted one of his hands to his chest, right about where his SOUL thrummed unseen. Filled with bravery magic. Bravery and kindness.

“Sans… How am I brave? I don’t feel brave. This was all my fault. I should have confronted Undyne a long time before she came over. I knew she was upset. I knew she wasn’t getting any calmer, but I just kept putting it off, hoping that she would calm down.”

“papyrus, that isn’t your fault. no more than mine, at least. neither of us talked to her. and do you really think talking would have worked?”

“No. Maybe it wouldn’t have. But that doesn’t matter. I should have confronted her, anyway. Sans. How many times did Frisk die?”

Guilt and pain lanced through Papyrus’s SOUL, and it came from both himself and Sans.

“…And how many times was it my best friend who killed them?”

Three times in one day. Three times when Frisk was arguably much healthier and in better condition than they were before.

How many times had Undyne chased them down, her magic ripping through their body, sending their insides outside? How many times had she shattered their SOUL into pieces? How many times that Papyrus didn’t remember, that he didn’t know about?

Nausea rose in Papyrus’s chest as he took a rough sip of his tea.

How many times was Frisk hunted down, scared and small when all they could do was try to run?

Or no. Frisk would try to make friends. …And Undyne hadn’t accepted. How many times did Frisk ask for friendship, only to get a spear through their chest?

Papyrus gripped his mug tighter.

(He could see it. Frisk standing strong. Or even maybe Frisk running. Either way, it ended the same. A quiet, sickening thump and the squelch of blood as Undyne threw a spear through them. And then the spears that followed, painting red all over Frisk and Undyne and everything around them.)

Sans floundered next to him. (Part of Papyrus remembered that Sans might actually know how many times. If those reports of his were accurate…) (…Papyrus wasn’t sure he could handle the answer.)

Papyrus shook his head and ignored how that bubbling guilt and nausea covered a sharper feeling in his chest.

…Anger.

“I wasn’t brave… But I will be. I need to talk to Undyne.”

Next to him, Sans put down his tea. And then he reached over and pulled the cup from Papyrus’s own hands. (It used to be that Sans would use gravity magic for that. …Neither he nor Sans had been using gravity magic much lately, though. Frisk was afraid of it. …Papyrus’s fault.)

And then Sans reached up and pulled Papyrus down into a hug, wrapping his arms around him and holding him. Papyrus clenched his teeth together and tears welled up in his sockets as he held Sans back.

“i’m proud of you, papyrus. i’m so, so proud of you and the monster you’ve grown up to be. you think you weren’t brave, but you saw a scared little kid and took them in, knowing you were committing treason, and that your best friend was the one hunting them down. knowing that you would be giving up the job you always wanted. and you did that because it was the right thing to do.”

Sans ran a hand down Papyrus’s back and filled the air with comforting intent.

“this isn’t easy. but even now with your best friend on the line, you’re going to do what you think is right. that’s brave. you are so brave, papyrus. and i’m so proud of you.”

Papyrus held onto Sans tightly as his brother draped his hoodie over him and cradled him like he was a baby bones. And Papyrus cried, because Frisk died and they had been scared and hurt.

Papyrus cried because he was sad.

And he also cried because he was angry.

Chapter Text

Papyrus couldn’t get Frisk’s words out of his head. They kept ringing, louder and louder as he tried to get his chores done.

(“…It was scary.”)

Sans had gone to bed an hour or so ago, but not before giving Papyrus one last concerned look and reminding him to try to get some sleep.

(“It was really scary.”)

(Frisk’s voice was so small. A broken whisper.)

And so now, Papyrus was the only one left awake after the honestly rather taxing day. Not that Papyrus was taxed! He was The Great Papyrus after all, and so he was filled with boundless energy!

And he was using some of that energy to clean up around the house. Again! There was no such thing as too clean! 

(“I didn’t know what was happening, and nobody remembered anything,”)

But despite the weight that was lifted from his shoulders when he talked with Sans earlier, the heaviness in his SOUL hadn’t left.

(“—and she kept killing me!”)

(That quiet whisper Frisk had been speaking in rose and cracked, and they were louder than he’d ever heard them. It only made them seem smaller.)

(Papyrus didn’t have to ask who ‘she’ was.)

Papyrus’s fists clenched around the cloth he’d been using to wipe down the counters for the fourth time. When he looked down, he realized his hands were shaking.

(“It hurt!”)

(Frisk never admitted to being in pain. Or scared. They always held themself with a determination to move forward. They made themself big, even if they were so very tiny. They were strong.)

(They never should have had to be.)

Laundry! Yes, Papyrus could do laundry. (If he went to sleep, he knew all he would see was red.)

Yes! He had! So many things to do! Papyrus was a very busy skeleton, after all. He had no time for sleep! He would finish cleaning tonight instead of sleeping! (He’d already cleaned the house more times than even he could count. Top to bottom, over and over, until the cleaner was a permanent scent. Anything to get rid of the smell of blood.)

And then tomorrow, when it was a reasonable time and Undyne was awake, he would go see her.

(“It hurt really bad.”)

Papyrus would talk to Undyne like the calm and rational monster he was! (...He would be rational. He would be calm. Even if he was fighting himself. Fighting down the urge to hurt her.)

Papyrus brought the wet cloth he’d used to clean over to the washing machine. He’d done almost all the laundry at this point, but there was a load of rags that he could throw in, along with some of Sans’s spare socks that had managed to escape the first rounds of Papyrus’s intensive cleaning.

So Papyrus dumped them all in. (He ignored the way his hands shook.)

And then he reached up to the shelf to grab the laundry detergent, but when he pulled it down, the fabric that had been tossed behind it fell with it.

Papyrus looked blankly at the blue and purple sweater that lay in his arms. Dark stains covered the yarn. A large, gaping hole that was singed and somewhat melted from the heat of magic was beginning to unravel.

It was in pieces from where he had to cut it off of Frisk.

Papyrus knew why they still had it. Sans hoped he could fix it. Or that, if he couldn’t, he could either make or find something similar. It was Frisk’s favorite sweater.

(“I was scared.”)

Papyrus held the ruined clothing carefully. Because he didn’t want to make it any worse!

(It couldn’t get much worse.)

(…That was a lie. Papyrus had seen it in worse condition.)

(It had been on Frisk when Undyne murdered them after all.)

(“—she kept killing me!”)

Papyrus folded it up. He was a meticulous and careful skeleton, and it didn’t come any further unraveled at all! So he placed it back on the shelf where it had been hidden. He ignored how his hands were shaking.

(“It hurt!”)

He clenched his teeth so tightly they ground together and his SOUL churned in his chest like acid. He was careful to tamp down on his bonds so that his emotions wouldn’t leak through to Sans or Frisk and upset their dreams.

(Frisk already had enough bad dreams.)

Sans would probably want Papyrus to go get him right now. He wanted Papyrus to talk and Papyrus understood why. Talking earlier helped. But Papyrus would be fine!

(“I was scared.”)

He just. Would go talk to Undyne now! 

(“—she kept killing me!”)

It wasn’t like he hadn’t woken her up before. Really, sleeping eight hours was an obscene amount anyway! He couldn’t believe Undyne was lazy enough to nap that much! He was just! Helping her out! Like a good friend!

Papyrus climbed the stairs to peek into his and Frisk’s room.

(He was seeing red. Red. Red everywhere. Was Frisk okay?)

They were sleeping. Their stuffed cat was under their arm as they clutched it to themself. Frisk had named it Softy, a very good and apt name!

…Frisk curled around it defensively. Even when they were asleep, they were still so guarded. 

(“I was scared.”)

Their too large nightshirt slipped down their shoulder just enough for Papyrus to see the dark raised skin where Undyne’s spear had torn through.

Frisk still had issues with mobility. All of their scars gave them pain. …Not that Papyrus would have known that if they didn’t have a bond. They were much too good at disguising injuries.

…

Well! Papyrus should be going!

He spun on his heel after giving Frisk one last lingering look. (Just long enough to see their chest rise and fall. Enough to make sure there was no red on them, and that their sleep was as peaceful as it would get.)

Papyrus needed to talk with Undyne. He could be calm! (He didn’t want to be calm.) He could be reasonable! (She wasn’t reasonable when she killed his child.)

He wouldn’t do anything to her. That would be bad! (He didn’t want to listen to his own advice.)

Papyrus was sure if he just told her he’d adopted Frisk, everything would be okay. She’d already told him she wasn’t planning on going after the human again. (Only after Frisk had outrun her. Beaten her. After too many tries.)

He would tell her what she’d done was wrong. Surely Undyne would listen! She was a good monster at her core. She only did what she thought was right. (Murdering a child. Murdering Frisk. His child.)

Papyrus got to his front door, and he paused as he stared at the handle.

(She’d kicked this door down. And faster than he could blink, Frisk—)

(She’d killed Frisk.)

Papyrus would find the right words to talk to her! He could be patient. He could be reasonable.

Snowdin was dark as he walked through. That was okay, though! Papyrus was used to it. He often patrolled at night when he couldn’t sleep, and he was a normal sight to the nocturnal residents of Snowdin at this point.

Frisk’s words still echoed through his head.

(“I was scared.”)

(“It hurt!”)

Papyrus blinked his sockets and reached up to furiously wipe away the tears that were falling down his face. He knew he was mad. He knew that! He was a very self-aware skeleton! He was very mad at Undyne. His SOUL churned in his chest with grief and anger and upset.

But he would be okay! He would talk to Undyne. And then!!! Everything would be okay!!! (Did Papyrus want that though? Did he want things to be okay? What did okay mean?)

The cross into Waterfall was abrupt. But Papyrus kept going, and eventually he walked through the wishing room. Papyrus paused to crane his head back and stare at the glittering stones on the ceiling. He didn’t do that very often—stop to admire the scenery, that was. …Not that he could see the scenery very well. His vision was rather blurry.

…He kept walking.

Until, finally, he stood in front of Undyne’s door.

Papyrus was normally a skeleton with many words! All of the words! Papyrus was the wordiest skeleton ever! …But right now he wasn’t sure what to say.

(He wanted to kick down her door. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, in a much more friendly context.)

(It wasn’t like she hadn’t done the same to his own, in a much less friendly context.)

…He should probably just knock! After he made sure he wasn’t crying anymore. That would probably be for the best!

So Papyrus wiped away the rest of his tears and took a deep breath in before reaching out and knocking loudly. And repeatedly.

It did the trick to get her out of bed, and the noise was very obvious as she stomped her way closer.

“Okay, who the hell is outside right now?! You better have a damn good excuse for waking me up at one i—”

Undyne’s words cut off as her door slid open and she saw Papyrus standing there.

His SOUL lurched in his chest as he stared at her.

“… Papyrus? What the—”

She looked at him with thinly veiled concern. Not that Undyne normally did concern! But Papyrus would admit he looked like a bit of a mess right now with his tear stained skull. 

(Her hands weren’t red. He wasn’t seeing her splattered with blood. He wasn’t.)

“…Hey. Uh. Are you… okay?”

Her eye widened, and it would probably have been comical in any other situation.

“Is Sans okay?”

Ah. Yes. Papyrus had told her that Sans was sick! And with Sans’s low HP, Undyne may have made a rather reasonable assumption just then. (But it wasn’t Sans that was hurt. Not Sans who was dead.)

He smiled at her, his grin wide and bright, and oh so very fake.

“Sans is fine! That lazy bones has always been fine! No, I came here to talk to you about something else!”

“But you said Sans was sick!”

“Yes! Well! I lied!”

That wasn’t what Papyrus had planned on saying—not that he had much of a plan to start with. But at his words, Undyne reeled back, her brows furrowed as she scowled.

“You don’t lie though! …Not to me? At least not well! I don’t think? Nggaaahh! It’s too early for this!”

Papyrus’s smile widened, and he clenched his fists at his sides. (He had to keep his hands in fists. Because Frisk’s words were still ringing in his head.)

(“—she kept killing me!”)

He took a small step forward.

“Recently, I discovered something about myself. I lie. A lot! But you would know a thing or two about lying, wouldn’t you?”

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying. This wasn’t what he planned. He was going to be calm and rational about this. He was going to be okay! He would talk, and Undyne would talk and it would be fine!!!

(It would never be fine. Not after what she did. Not when Papyrus could still see Frisk’s limp body every time he blinked. Not when he remembered what his SOUL being empty felt like. What Frisk’s love felt like, so bright and overwhelming before being snuffed out entirely. Over. And over.)

Undyne’s face screwed up into an even fiercer scowl at Papyrus’s question. (Accusation.)

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Papyrus had to stop himself from taking another step forward. His normally tight grip on his magic was slipping. Papyrus was always controlled. He prided himself on his control! …But he was. Maybe struggling a bit more than usual.

“I think you know what I mean! Do you think I am an idiot, Undyne? Do you really think I didn’t know that you had no intention of ever letting me join the guard?”

The scowl on Undyne’s face dropped into what could only be described as shock—not an expression Papyrus was used to seeing on her.

“I—”

“But that’s not why I’m here! No. You had a good reason for not letting me in the guard. Because you were right. I’m not the kind of monster that can murder a child.”

Papyrus was not being as calm and reasonable as he wanted, but he couldn’t stop himself from taking another step closer to Undyne. She stared at him like he was a stranger.

(All he could see was Frisk’s limp body. The way the world dropped out from under him when he thought he lost them for good.)

“How could that ever be the right answer? How could killing a child ever be the right answer, Undyne?! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?!”

Undyne sputtered and took a small step back, finally.

“That’s not what this is! Humans are the enemy of our people! They're the reason we are trapped down here! I knew you wouldn’t understand, but people are dying, Papyrus!”

His grip on his magic slipped just a bit more, and it thrashed around him. He needed to be cool. He needed to keep his head.

"FUCK THAT! Fuck that, and fuck you, Undyne! More death will never be the answer! Not when the human is a CHILD! NOT WHEN THEY ARE EIGHT!”

Undyne faltered for a second, something like horror filling her. But she shook it away as her eye widened with realization. It wasn’t the realization he wanted her to make.

“You befriended them, didn’t you? I knew you did, but you got attached! You can’t just—keep it around like some kind of pet! They aren’t eight, Papyrus! They’re tricking you! With their human mind control!”

Papyrus. Did not. Like how she phrased that. (He didn’t like it at all.)

Her words had a bitter twist to them—almost hesitant, like she was trying to convince herself just as much as Papyrus. (Papyrus didn’t care, though. How dare she say that?)

So he stopped moving forward. He stopped so that he wouldn’t go further. He was okay. He was reasonable.

He took a deep breath in and lowered his voice again.

“They are not a pet. They aren’t tricking me. Do you really, truly think that low of me, Undyne? Do you really have that little faith? Do you really think that I couldn’t stop a malicious human if I needed to?”

The look in Undyne’s eye told him she really did think that. She thought he was a fool. The same naive people pleaser that he was around her.

"I’m not the fool, Undyne. They are eight. They are eight and they aren’t a pet. They're my little sibling.”

A new fire lit in Undyne’s eye, and she squared her shoulders and took a step forward. Papyrus didn’t step back.

“Alright! This has gone too far! What have they done to you, Papyrus?! This isn’t you! Nggahhh! This is completely wrong!”

Her magic crackled as she made to step around him.

Papyrus didn’t move. Frisk’s words rang even louder in his head.

(“—she kept killing me!”)

(How many times did she kill them?)

No. Papyrus would be reasonable. He was okay. He was very fine! HE WAS OKAY!

Undyne’s voice was firm as she said, “I’m ending this NOW! MOVE, Papyrus!!!”

…

Papyrus wasn’t okay.

The magic that Papyrus had been holding onto with a tenacious grip slipped completely, and it flared around him as he snarled. With one quick move, he pulled Undyne into an Encounter.

The rest of the world grayed out around them. And when Undyne heard the change in his SOUL song, she took a small step back.

“I—That music—Your SOUL—...What happened to you, Papyrus?!”

Undyne spent her first turn on an ACT to ask him that. Ironic. Undyne never ACTed.

Papyrus didn’t care anymore. He wasn’t going to lie to himself. 

“Let me tell you about some feelings, Undyne. Feelings like… doing the wrong thing. Making a mistake. Hurting your best friend irreparably. Those must be what you are feeling!!!”

His magic crackled as he sent a wave of blue bones her way. There was nowhere for Undyne to dodge, and he took a rough grip of her with gravity magic. He wasn’t careful.

“ …And they are also what I’m about to be feeling.”

She was going to hurt Frisk again. She was planning on killing them again. Papyrus would never let that happen.

Undyne narrowed her eye and took a small step forward. Her magic flashed as spears appeared around her. They were the same bright spears that had torn through Frisk and splattered brilliant shades of red everywhere—that slid through their lungs, leaving Frisk drowning in their own blood as they quietly gasped. 

There was a toothy grin on Undyne’s face as she readied her attack.

“Okay, if that’s how it’s going to be, then bring it on!”

She sent the wave of projectiles towards Papyrus and they flashed around him as they passed his head. He ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the oncoming rush.

The magic crackled along his bones as he dodged to the left, a quiet displacement of air as the last spear tore through the fabric of his sweater on his right side. It grazed his bones, just enough to draw a line of dust and knock his HP down by five.

Five wasn’t a lot to him. He had 680 HP. But to Frisk, five HP was a quarter of their health.

How many times did Undyne kill them with that attack?

His socket crackled with orange magic as he summoned his blasters. Undyne had to scrabble onto the platform he provided as he filled her yard with a field of bones.

"My turn now.”

Magic burned through him as his blasters let loose. The roar of magic crackled next to his head. Undyne dodged the first blast, and she dodged the second too, jumping from platform to platform as she did her best to stay out of the way.

Undyne was always very fast. She was the Captain of the Royal Guard for a reason. But Papyrus was faster.

She jumped past the attacks, starting off strong, but faltering when they kept coming. One of the beams of energy connected with her leg and sent her falling.

She fell straight into the beam of the next blaster, the attack shaving off 50 of her HP. The energy burned her and seared through the bottoms of her pajama pants as well. Dust flaked off of the scales that Papyrus could see.

And then his turn was over, and Undyne straightened up, a wide grin across her face and a wild look in her eye.

“You’ve been holding out on me! But you’re going to have to try harder than THAT!”

A green spear sizzled into existence in her hand, and she swiped it towards Papyrus.

But Papyrus wasn’t going to sit still and let her immobilize him.

He wasn’t going to play by the rules.

So he took his magic, and he bent the bullet box caging them in, giving him enough space to jump back. Undyne’s eye widened, and she took a small step back instinctively.

“What—”

Papyrus didn’t wait for her, and he wasn’t going to play into this like it was just another spar. Not when Undyne planned on going after Frisk again. Not when every single time he blinked, all he saw were those spears tearing through Frisk’s body.

Undyne was going to hurt Frisk. And Papyrus was going to hurt her.

With a flick of magic, Papyrus summoned a long bone, and he took a step closer to Undyne. He snarled as he lunged forward, swinging at her. She took a step back and dodged, but she only fell into a field of blue and orange bones. Papyrus kept his attacks coming at a rapid, random pace, too fast for Undyne to keep up with.

Her HP dropped more as bones tore through her body, sending her skittering across the ground.

“You want to know what happened to me?”

She floundered as she scrambled to regain her footing and flashed another round of spears. The heat radiating from them was intense, and they filled his vision. She flung them faster than she ever had in a spar with him before.

Papyrus dodged all of them.

And then he advanced on her again, swiping at her viciously with his bone staff and pushing her back into the beam of a blaster. More dust flaked off of her arm.

“I’ll tell you what happened.”

Undyne took the chance to summon a spear and rush him. If that was how she wanted to play this, Papyrus had no complaint. He raised his staff to block, his face inches away from her own.

“Papyrus! This isn’t YOU! What’s going on? Why did your SOUL song change?”

She said it wasn’t him, but Papyrus could see something hesitant in her face. She knew he was serious. She knew only something world altering could change his very SOUL like that. She knew, even if she didn’t want to admit it, that something like mind-control could never cause that.

Papyrus let out a bark of laughter.

“Now you want to talk? Now?!?! Well! Better late than never, I suppose!!!”

That was a lie. It was much too late. And Papyrus wasn’t going to stop.

“I said I’ll tell you what happened! So let me tell you a story! About a handsome skeleton and his lazy brother! And the little human they found! You see, that handsome skeleton found a small human a while back!”

He swiped at Undyne’s legs with his own, and she dodged, but Papyrus took the chance to use the grip of gravity he still had around her and slam her to the ground.

“He found them, and befriended them! And then he found out that they. Were. Eight. They were eight, and they were scared and had nowhere to go.”

Blasters hovered next to his head and fired off at Undyne. She just barely rolled out of the way, but wasn’t able to dodge entirely.

The energy crackled along her side, burning the flesh and filling the air with the scent of dust.

She couldn’t keep up with Papyrus. No one could. 

“And so the skeleton realized that there was one thing he could do! If the little human had nowhere to go, he would just have to take them in himself!”

Undyne climbed to her feet, her glare more fierce than ever. It was a look begging him to be lying.

“Papyrus—”

Papyrus cut her off as he swiped at her one last time before his turn was over. He pushed the limits of his magic, making his turn last longer.

“So he did, and they grew closer! The little human slowly became part of the family. Because of them, even the lazy brother became a little less lazy.”

The second he said ‘family,’ something in Undyne’s expression twisted, but she shook it off as she dodged the swipes of his bone staff. 

And then it was Undyne’s turn, and she ACTed again. She tried to reason with him.

“Papyrus, this isn’t you! They’re a human! They just lied to get you to defend them! And NOW look at you! Look what’s happened!”

Undyne’s ACT only made the boiling fury in Papyrus grow stronger. His SOUL roiled and burned in his chest, the anger that he’d been pushing down for so long making itself clear.

Undyne was ACTing.

She didn’t show Frisk any MERCY when they tried.

“I’M NOT AN IDIOT, UNDYNE!!! They’ve been with me for MONTHS! And you know what? They are the sweetest child you would ever meet! Truly great! The best!”

He snarled as he lunged towards her, pulling her into a flurry of attacks. He yanked her down with gravity as he swiped at her, making it harder for her to dodge. His grip on her SOUL was heavier than he had ever used before.

She staggered as she dodged. One of his attacks ran through her side, flaking off more of her dust and HP.

Undyne’s turn came again, and Papyrus had to dodge out of the way of her next attack, a swipe of a spear up close to his face.

He retaliated, pushing back with his staff.

They began taking their turns at such a rapid fire pace that it turned into something almost reminiscent of a dance.

A dance that Undyne couldn’t keep up with.

Undyne met his snarl with one of her own. Papyrus wasn’t able to dodge her next thrown spear completely before she advanced, and it sliced across his cheek.

“They are the enemy, Papyrus!”

Five more HP. He was missing a total of ten now. But Undyne was missing over half of hers.

He lunged forward again and brought his bone staff up, continuing his bruising assault. Any time she tried to disengage and retreat, blaster beams and fields of bone attacks rushed her.

“You wanted to know what happened! Well, I’ll finish our story! The skeleton and his brother grew closer to the human, and eventually they bonded with them.”

Undyne’s eye widened at that, and she faltered. It was enough of a lull for Papyrus to land a solid jab at her chest, right where one of Undyne’s spears had torn through Frisk. She coughed at the impact before trying to regain her footing.

Papyrus continued his attack, easily brushing off the thrust of a spear Undyne sent at him.

“But something happened! Do you want to know what happened, Undyne?!”

She opened her mouth, but Papyrus didn’t wait for an answer. He used the gravity still wrapped around her SOUL to pin her against the side of her house, the weight too heavy for even Undyne to fight against.

He stepped close and sent bones through the loose parts of her clothing. He didn’t bother to keep them away from her scales, allowing the sharpened edges to scrape against her sides. More dust flaked off of her, and she spit out a mouthful of the gritty substance.

Like the blood that fell from Frisk’s lips.

She killed them. Over and over and over, and Frisk was scared.

She was his best friend, and she murdered his baby.

Grief thrashed through his SOUL, so very obvious in the reflection of his magic. His socket continued to burn with flickering orange as he kept Undyne in his grip and leaned forward until his face was only inches from her own.

“YOU KILLED THEM! YOU KILLED THEM UNDYNE, AND IT’S ONLY BECAUSE OF THEIR MAGIC THAT THEY AREN’T DEAD!"

Undyne’s face twisted further. Confusion and maybe even a bit of realization painted her feature. She bit out her own response.

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Someone can’t just come back!”

Papyrus let the bones holding Undyne up go, and she rolled out to the side and dodged around him. He let out a hysterical laugh as she crouched into a defensive position, and tears ran down his face with new abandon.

“It doesn’t make sense, does it? But you are so lucky it happened anyway!!! You KILLED them! You killed my child over and over and I HAD TO WATCH! YOU TORE THEM OUT OF MY SOUL! THREE TIMES! I FELT THEM DIE THREE TIMES! And that’s only what happened after our bond!!! HOW MANY TIMES DID YOU MURDER THEM, UNDYNE?!”

Maybe it was Undyne’s obsession with those baby shows, or maybe it was the fact that human magic was well known to be a powerful and unreasonable force. But something about what Papyrus said clicked. And it seemed that she maybe. Just possibly. Began to understand.

But Papyrus didn’t care anymore.

His blasters surrounded him, and he let them fire. Magic crackled through the Encounter, electricity racing through his bones as his attacks hit.

Dust filled the air as Undyne’s HP sank. Despite her best efforts, she was flagging and wasn’t able to dodge.

She staggered, struggling to remain standing. But she couldn’t. She fell to a knee, her grip around her spear bruising and shaky as she used it to hold herself up.

Papyrus advanced again, pushing at her chest with his staff. Bones shot out of the ground, piercing through her leg.

Her HP dropped more.

She only had 10 left now.

He pushed against her harder, gritting his teeth as her HP sank another few ticks.

She killed Frisk. She killed them. SHE KILLED HIS CHILD!

He would bring her down to one. He would let her know what being on the brink felt like.

It was only fair.

It was so. Much. Nicer than what she had done.

Tears ran thick down his face and all he could see was Frisk’s broken body, laying in his arms as he tried desperately to save them. The way they smiled weakly at him before tearing their SOUL out of his grip. The way it shattered.

Papyrus twisted his staff, sharpening it and pushing it against Undyne’s shoulder as he took another step closer to her. He towered over Undyne’s downed form.

Her HP fell another tick.

And then he blinked, and Frisk was in front of him, held to the ground with the weight of his gravity magic that scared them so badly, bleeding heavily as they stared up at him with wide eyes. His sharpened staff pushed into their shoulder, drawing blood as they smiled up at him.

Papyrus faltered.

And then he staggered back, even as Undyne’s form came back into view.

It wasn’t blood over her. It was dust and the red of her hair splayed around her face.

Despite that, Papyrus couldn’t help but see a flicker of Frisk over her again.

He couldn’t breathe.

He stumbled back again, falling to his own knees. He looked down at his hands through his blurry tears, the gloves smeared with dust.

When he looked back up, Undyne was across from him. Beaten down. Her pajamas were torn to shreds, and dust flaked off of her injuries. She was staring at him with a look that…

Papyrus couldn’t quite understand.

Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and a small shake ran through her arm, betraying how much difficulty she was having staying up.

*HP 5/1500

*…She believes you.

Papyrus fell back completely, thudding into the dirt.

A sob tore out of his mouth as he buried his face in his hands. Tears and Undyne’s dust smeared over his cheeks as he shuddered and broke down. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there as his shoulders shook and he fell apart. His grip on his skull was painful as he ground his metacarpals into his sockets.

This wasn’t what Papyrus wanted.

He didn’t know what he wanted.

There was a flicker of magic in the background as Undyne took her turn. Papyrus didn’t look up.

And then a heavy weight settled over his shoulders.

Undyne grunted from the effort of trekking over, but she threw her arm over him and leaned up against his side.

“…Hey. You win. Let’s… Let’s get the hell out of this Encounter, okay?”

MERCY flickered into existence as Undyne extended an offering.

It only made Papyrus break down harder, even as he accepted and the Encounter flickered away. Undyne patted his shoulder roughly, and he turned his face so that his tears were soaking into her shoulder instead.

He spoke, his voice cracking through his sobs.

“You wanted to know what happened to me. What changed my SOUL.”

He screwed his face up and held on tightly to Undyne’s shirt.

“Well, Undyne. It turns out that gaining a child and then having your best friend murder them is enough to change even me.”

It was silent for a moment as Papyrus cried into his best friend’s shoulder. The monster who meant the world to him. Who he admired. Who killed his little sibling. Who chased Frisk down and hunted them. Who did it because monsters were dying and she didn’t know what else to do.

Papyrus didn’t know what to do.

“Papyrus, I—”

Undyne’s rough voice was hesitant. It didn’t suit her.

“…I’m sorry.”

Papyrus hiccuped and wailed like he was a baby bones. Undyne continued to hold him.

“Sorry doesn’t change it! Sorry doesn’t fix anything! I held them in my arms! I watched them die! Three times! And even though they came back, you almost killed them again! They have nightmares! They can’t move their arm the same! They are covered in scars!”

Undyne didn’t say anything as he kept crying. She just continued to pet his shoulder.

His tears soaked into her top, mixing with the dust still there as she comforted him silently. She didn’t do anything other than subtly wince, even though she was covered in open injuries.

They sat there like that for a long time.

And then, after a while, when Papyrus’s sobs had died down into the occasional hiccup, she spoke.

“…So, uh. You adopted a kid?”

Startled, Papyrus let out a weak laugh before he finally straightened up, pulling away from Undyne to look at her.

Of course she would ask that. Undyne was terrible at being gentle, but she was trying her best. She wasn’t asking what Papyrus knew she wanted to.

Papyrus knew his friend. She… she was a good monster at heart. He didn’t know if he could forgive her, but…

“Their name is Frisk.”

He could extend a slight peace offering.

She barked out a laugh. Something in her face twisted, though. Now that Papyrus was looking, he could see the guilt. Whether it was guilt for hurting him, or the guilt of hurting a child sinking in, Papyrus didn’t know.

“Frisk? That sounds like a monster name! Pretty awesome!”

“They are pretty awesome themself. And having a human or monster name has nothing to do with that. Just like the fact that they are human has nothing to do with that.”

Undyne’s hand twisted into a fist at her side and she couldn't meet his sockets.

Hesitantly, she asked, “…This really isn’t mind control, is it?”

Papyrus was too tired to get mad again.

“You know it’s not.”

She did know. She wasn’t able to lie to herself anymore.

“…Yeah. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on right now, but… I messed up big time. This seems like something right out of Alphys’s history tapes! And that’s awesome!!! But… I hurt you.”

Papyrus closed his sockets.

“You did.”

And Papyrus could see she was confused and wanted to ask. So he explained.

“Frisk… Frisk can use magic. Even if they don’t mean to. And… when they die, time rewinds.”

Undyne stared at him with dawning horror. Papyrus couldn’t help but wonder which part of that was horrific to her. The thought that she killed a child? That she killed Papyrus’s bonded sibling? Or maybe it was the fact that all of that happened and it didn’t even matter—that she never had a chance of winning.

Papyrus was so tired. He was tired of being hurt. He was tired of being mad. He wished this was all just a nightmare that he would wake up from. He wished Undyne had never killed Frisk.

But she did.

Papyrus slowly climbed to his feet. And then he offered a hand to Undyne and pulled her up when she grabbed it. He let a touch of healing magic trickle through. Not much, but enough that the worst of Undyne’s wounds patched up.

She stood across from him, still covered in dust and filthy clothes as she forced the horrified look on her face away and scratched the back of her neck sheepishly.

“I really want to say how cool that is, but I think now might not be the right time.”

Papyrus gave her a dry look.

He said, “It is not!”

And then he turned around.

He needed to go home, and to see Frisk and make sure they were okay. Papyrus spoke to Undyne. She knew what she did. He wasn’t sure what would happen from here, but…

Some of the tension that had been lining his SOUL since Frisk died that first time left.

Undyne called out to him when he took a step away.

“Papyrus, wait! …Are we going to be okay?”

Papyrus closed his sockets before he continued walking.

“I don’t know, Undyne. Not right now. But. Thank you for listening.”

He wasn’t ready to forgive her just yet. Maybe he would eventually. It was even likely.

But even if he did, he would never forget.

Chapter Text

The creaking of the front door drew Sans from his light doze, and he looked up as Papyrus snuck in, inexplicably covered in water and leaving soaking footprints in the carpet with each step he took. There was a cut across Papyrus's face and his sweater was torn open along the side, and Sans's hands clenched as he resisted the urge to fuss over Papyrus like he would a baby bones. 

Sans had woken up earlier to find Papyrus missing, and while Papyrus often left during the night, Sans couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different this time. So Sans dragged his lazy coccyx down to the couch to wait, and the sinking sensation in his SOUL only grew as the night went on.

A normal university student might be sneaking back from a party, or a partner's house, but Papyrus had never been normal. And if either of those had been the case, Papyrus wouldn't have felt the need to sneak.

Exhaustion and grief dripped from their bond as Papyrus dragged his boots off in the dark, and Sans’s SOUL clenched in his chest as he reached for his magic and checked Papyrus.

*HP 670/680

*He really needs to hug his family.

Well. Sans might not be good for much—a useless lump that could only ever make things worse for his siblings—but he could try to bring a smile back to Papyrus’s face after whatever the hell he'd been doing that left him in this state. 

“water you doing?”

Papyrus jolted in surprise, another indicator that he was off-kilter—Papyrus was very rarely surprised when Sans wasn’t even trying.

But Papyrus brushed it off.

“Sans!!! What are you doing skullking around in the dark?” He narrowed his sockets the second the words left his teeth. “I didn’t say that! Ignore that I said that!”

Sans closed his sockets and hummed. 

“aw, are you afraid i’m gonna rib ya?”

Papyrus groaned, but he kept edging towards the stairs and Sans’s bones creaked in protest as he stood up to follow.

“That’s horrible, Sans! Truly terrible!”

“but you love it.”

Papyrus paused, and that exhaustion that was lining his SOUL showed in the hunch of his shoulders. Alarm rang through Sans, but he shoved it down as he put his hands in his pockets.

Papyrus never slouched. Heh, he always said that horrible posture was something only “unrefined and lazy” skeletons did. 

The lines under Papyrus's sockets were dark and deep as he slowly looked over at Sans. 

“...I do love it. And I love you, Sans. You know that, right?”

Sans’s brow furrowed and his smile tilted down before he smoothed it back into his normal easygoing grin.

“course i do. and i love you, too, pap.”

Papyrus nodded once before he turned back to continue up the stairs and Sans followed silently. When Papyrus got to his room, he paused at the cracked open door and stood there for a long moment. Silently, Sans walked up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. 

Papyrus’s SOUL was filled with guilt and grief and relief as he peered at Frisk. And then his knees buckled and he sank to the ground. 

Sans was an idiot for ever assuming that Papyrus would be able to pull through this all with a smile—his very SOUL had changed, and that had consequences. And it was all because Sans fucked up badly enough that Frisk died and Papyrus saw it.

It had been less than two weeks since that awful day, and while Papyrus had perked back up, how much of that was the mask he always wore? He'd broken down earlier in the day and hadn't fully come back to himself since then, and Sans just left him alone in the evening.

Papyrus was never meant to be so dim. 

What had Papyrus told Frisk? “I’m glad I remember because you shouldn’t have to go through that on your own.”?

Sans sank down to the ground next to Papyrus and filled the air with a layer of magic and comforting intent. He didn’t care about the water that was now soaking into his own clothing from touching Papyrus.

He just watched Papyrus as Papyrus watched Frisk.

Papyrus was right—Frisk shouldn’t have had to go through it at all, but if they had to, they definitely shouldn’t be alone. But why Papyrus? If Sans could take that weight from Papyrus’s shoulders, he’d do it faster than it took to say “yes, stars yes.”

But Sans couldn’t change the past. 

And wasn’t it just hilarious how much he’d resented the anomaly for playing with time before all of this? When the anomaly didn’t want to. 

When Sans did.

There were so many things he’d change, things he tried to when he still worked at the lab.

Sans would save Dad, or if he couldn’t do that, he’d be a better guardian for Papyrus. He would make it so that Frisk never had to wake up in a cold sweat, unable to tell the difference between what was in front of them and the countless times they’d died. They never would have shed a single drop of blood once they left the ruins.

Sans would make it so that Papyrus would never have to know what it felt like to have a family member slip through his hands, dead and gone no matter what he tried.

Sans would protect his siblings.

…Heh. That was a nice thought.

But life never worked the way Sans wanted it to. He couldn’t erase his mistakes, no matter how desperately he tried. He fucked up and Papyrus and Frisk paid the consequences.

Sans and Papyrus sat there for a long time, until the water soaking Papyrus began to dry. And that was when Sans caught sight of Papyrus’s gloves.

Ah. Well, that would explain the water.

There was dust smeared into the fabric, ground in like someone tried to scrub it off. Papyrus hadn’t been able to get rid of it entirely just by dunking himself in a river or waterfall, though—his gloves needed to be washed properly.

Sans stood up and offered Papyrus a hand, ignoring the way his bones protested the movement. He spoke in a whisper, just loud enough for Papyrus to hear, but not loud enough to wake up Frisk.

“come on pap. why don’t you get changed and showered. i’ll wash your clothes and grab something to heal you. and then you can tell me what happened.”

Sans had a feeling that somewhere in Waterfall, there was a fish nursing her wounds after she got her butt kicked. 

Papyrus stared at Frisk for a few more moments, watching them breathe. But then he took Sans’s hand and stood up, not really putting any weight behind the motion.

“Yes. I… I should tell you. Thank you, Sans.”

He shuffled into the room, his posture still hunched, and Sans waited outside as Papyrus gathered a change of clothes. It was something cozy. Sweats and the softest sweater he owned, and a pair of thick wool socks.

Papyrus's comfort outfit, or at least one of them. 

Sans didn’t say a word, just followed behind Papyrus as he walked to the bathroom, and took Papyrus’s dirty clothing quietly.

Once the door was shut and the water running, Sans reached for the familiar pinch in space-time and stepped out next to the laundry machine. He fished out a few dirty rags and socks and placed Papyrus’s clothing in. He left the sweater out and put it aside to fix later.

After getting the washing going, Sans stepped over to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

By the time Papyrus came downstairs, steam billowing from the bathroom, Sans had a mug of tea waiting, loaded down with an obscene amount of sugar, and Papyrus’s clothes hung to dry.

…That was another thing that had changed recently. Neither he nor Papyrus were sensitive to temperature, and so Papyrus took cold showers. The steam annoyed him, and he didn’t like the humid air. It was only when he felt really dirty that he used hot water. 

Since last week, Papyrus had been using nothing but.

Papyrus was quiet as he made his way over to the couch to sit next to Sans. He took the tea and stared at it for a few moments.

And then he knocked it back like a shot.

He placed the mug on the floor and turned to Sans, and Sans didn’t even get a chance to check Papyrus or offer a hug before his lanky little brother pulled Sans into his lap and buried his face in Sans’s shoulder. Tears soaked into the fabric of his jacket as Papyrus cried silently.

A storm in his own chest, Sans wrapped his arms back around Papyrus and rubbed his shoulder as he checked him.

*HP 680/680

*He’s so tired.

Sans’s breath hitched as he tightened his grip on Papyrus.

Papyrus wasn’t supposed to be tired. 

Sans was the tired one, and he sooner would give up his entire SOUL than ever let Papyrus deal with the same fog of apathy that had caused Sans to slowly fall down.

Papyrus broke the silence with a hoarse voice. He didn’t even capitalize his words and Sans grabbed Papyrus tighter, with as much strength in his grip as he could muster.

“I confronted Undyne.”

Sans pushed as much love and concern as he could through their bond, and he filled the air with more comforting intent. The tension in Papyrus’s shoulders relaxed, just a bit, and when he spoke next, he used his normal case. 

“I was going to hurt her badly, Sans. I was going to bring her down to one HP. I did hurt her.”

He tightened his grip on Sans.

“But I stopped at five. I made my point. And… she finally listened.”

Papyrus sat there for a few long minutes before, reluctantly, he drew away and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper as it cracked.

“I was mad, Sans. I don’t ever want to FIGHT when I’m angry. I… I wanted to hurt her. And I don’t want that.”

Papyrus closed his sockets and grabbed the soft fabric of his sweats with one hand, and he drummed his phalanges against the couch with the other. He didn’t meet Sans’s gaze.

“…But the thing that scares me? I don’t regret it. I would do it again. For Frisk. I will never let anyone kill them again.”

Sans didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to comfort Papyrus or how to fix things... but this wasn’t something that could be fixed.

So Sans took off his jacket and draped it over Papyrus’s shoulders, letting the magic in it blanket his little brother further.

“that’s… that’s okay, ya know? i know you never let yourself be mad, but it’s okay to be angry over what happened. and even then, i have a feeling that you didn’t fight her until you had to.”

Papyrus cracked a small smile. It wasn’t a happy expression.

“No. I suppose I did not.”

They sat there like that for a while longer, only the sound of the ambient magic filling the air. And then Papyrus broke the silence again.

“…I need to apologize to Frisk.”

What?

“er, for protecting them? i don’t think that’s something you should apologize for.”

Papyrus let out a startled laugh, surprise jolting through their bond. But only half a second later, suffocating, smothering guilt came back.

“No. But… Sans, I hurt Frisk. I hurt them badly.”

Sans furrowed his brow bones as he stared at Papyrus, and he didn’t understand. But Papyrus just let out a sad, quiet laugh.

“Nyeh heh heh. You are so very hard on yourself, Sans. But when it comes to me, you have a blind spot. Did you really forget how I met Frisk?”

Sans’s SOUL sank in his chest and his response was immediate, the words slipping past his teeth.

“but that’s my fault. i should have stopped you. i never should have let it happen.”

An uncharacteristic anger shot through their bond, sharper than any blade as Papyrus brought up his sockets to glare at Sans.

“Don’t.”

And then he took a deep breath in before releasing it, softening his glare into something more tired again. The shadows in his gaze never left, only getting darker.

“Don’t you dare, Sans. I am an adult. My choices and mistakes are my own. It wasn’t you that hurt them. I made the choice to battle them. I made the choice to hurt them. I was the one that dragged them into an Encounter, and wouldn’t let them leave no matter how many times they asked for MERCY.”

He slammed his sockets shut and clenched his fists, slight tremors shaking his form. His words were choked and hoarse and Sans could hardly breathe through the guilt so thick and overpowering through the bond.

“…I was the one that beat a child until they were unconscious, only to heal them and repeat the process twice more. Don’t you dare try to excuse that, Sans.”

He shook his head.

“That’s not fair to Frisk.”

Sans… didn’t know what to say, because his whole being rebelled at the thought of blaming Papyrus. 

Sans judged people. It was what he did. And yet, when it came to Papyrus, Sans found it hard to blame him for anything. After all, couldn’t it all be drawn back to Sans? Wasn’t Papyrus Sans’s responsibility?

…But Papyrus was an adult.

Sans reached out to take Papyrus’s hand in his own, and Papyrus clutched it tightly.

“you’re right. i’m sorry. we both messed up. i was supposed to protect them and i didn’t. but that doesn’t take away what you did.”

Sans had to force the words out of his teeth. He was trying so hard, and a bark of inappropriate laughter slipped out of him.

“i’m sorry. just… we can both apologize, right? we both should.”

“Yes. We should. And we will.”

The resolve that had been fueling Papyrus petered out, and the exhaustion from earlier came back to the front of their bond. He dropped his skull back against the couch and stared at the ceiling.

“Tomorrow. We'll talk to them tomorrow.”

Sans leaned against the couch next to Papyrus and then pulled Papyrus’s head down to rest on his shoulder. Papyrus was so much taller than him now. He was bigger and older, and so very tired.

Sans ran his hand over Papyrus’s skull in a petting motion, and Papyrus leaned fully into the contact.

Neither he nor Papyrus got up again that night. They curled up together where they sat like they used to do so long ago when they both were scared kids, when Papyrus was only two and Sans was ten. And then like they did after Dad had died, trying to chase away bad dreams and pull comfort from each other.

They drifted off like that, and Sans could only pray that the nightmares that haunted Papyrus so frequently would give him a rest for just one night. He pushed more comforting intent towards Papyrus, just in case.

Sans might be a fuck up and a mess, but he hoped he could at least do that much.

###

There was a heavy weight on Papyrus’s shoulders, and a quiet exhaustion dragged him down. He paused outside his bedroom door, his hand hovering to knock while Sans stood quietly at his shoulder.

And then Papyrus pushed past his hesitation and rapped his knuckles on the wood. He was The Great Papyrus! He could do this!

…He needed to do this. For Frisk.

He opened the door the rest of the way, and Frisk looked up from the paper they were writing on as they lay on the carpet. They tilted their head to the side as Papyrus chirped brightly.

“Hello! What are you working on?”

Frisk sat up, gesturing at the connect-the-dots in front of them. Papyrus crouched down next to them to look, and Sans slumped down on the floor across from them.

Frisk was so very tiny as they craned their neck back to look at him. He smiled at them, and made sure not to allow any of the anxiety he was feeling slip through their bond.

“This is very good! You are truly a puzzle passioneer!”

They grinned at him, and Papyrus’s chest hurt, even as he smiled back.

Frisk always thought the world of him. A kind word made them light up brighter than anything he’d ever seen. How could it be so, when he still scared them—when they still flinched if he moved too quickly, or spoke too loudly?

Papyrus didn’t deserve them.

Frisk pushed the puzzle towards him.

“Do you want to?”

And then they turned to Sans.

“I have another, too!”

“aw, thanks frisky. but you know, i think my favorite puzzle might be a jigsaw. they just make me so piece-ful.”

Frisk broke into laughter, giggling and snorting as their shoulders hunched and they rocked back and forth. Sans had a pleased grin on his face, though Papyrus could feel through their bond that he was also anxious.

Papyrus didn’t want to bring the mood down. Frisk was so bright and happy right now, and one look at Sans’s face told Papyrus that he didn’t want to be the one to ruin it, either.

But Papyrus needed to. Frisk deserved so much better than what he’d done to them, and the very least he could do was apologize.

So Papyrus made a sound like he was clearing his throat and pinched the soft material of his gloves to keep himself grounded.

“Actually, Frisk. I was wondering if we could perhaps talk?”

Frisk tensed up next to him as anxiety and fear shot through them and washed away their joy even quicker than it had come.

This was why Papyrus needed to do this. They walked so carefully, as if they were tiptoeing on eggshells. They never made a mess or spoke a cruel word. Since the moment Papyrus met Frisk, they were overwhelmingly well-behaved. But they were eight. Eight-year-olds made messes. It was what they did. Even Papyrus knew that much.

How much had Papyrus contributed to Frisk's fear at even the slightest thought of upsetting him or Sans?

Papyrus rushed to reassure them.

“It’s not anything bad! It’s nothing you’ve done, Frisk. Actually... it's something I did. I need to apologize to you.”

Frisk cocked their head to the side, but they still moved back a bit. Not far, and they probably didn’t even realize they were doing it, but their prone position on the floor that they had when they were laying down earlier turned into something more defensive.

Papyrus’s SOUL clenched in his chest as they signed.

“...Why?”

Papyrus moved back to give them some more space. That feeling like he was dealing with a scared whimsum came back full force.

Next to him, Sans tensed before his posture collapsed back into that lazy, practiced slouch as he pushed his emotions aside so that Frisk couldn’t see. He stayed quiet and let Papyrus take the lead.

Papyrus drummed his phalanges against his leg and bit down the urge to sweep Frisk into a hug. That was the last thing they needed right now.

“Because I hurt you, Frisk.”

And then Papyrus bowed his head and clenched his teeth. He took a deep breath in and released it, that tightness in his SOUL never letting up. It stirred and roiled uncomfortably, and hot magic rushed to his cheeks in shame.

“I battled you, even though you didn't want to. And then I never apologized for it.”

That confusion that Frisk felt earlier only grew.  

…But then they smiled, and Papyrus could feel the way they brushed his apology off as their shoulders untensed.

"It’s okay! Really! You were very nice! You never even killed me! You’re the only one that wouldn’t kill me.”

Frisk tensed back up for a second as their eyes darted over to Sans. But then they looked at Papyrus and smiled again, so blindingly bright and beautiful.

It was the same smile they gave him as they tore their SOUL from his grip and died.

“Or, well… You’re the only one that didn’t want me to die. So… Thank you.”

Papyrus’s mind went white.

Next to him, Sans slammed shut on his bond with Papyrus. A small chuckle slipped past Sans’s teeth in that awful way it always did when he was falling apart before it cut off, quiet enough that Papyrus was sure Frisk hadn’t heard it.

But Papyrus couldn’t focus on that.

Papyrus didn’t kill Frisk?

He was the only one that wouldn’t kill them?!

Papyrus couldn’t breathe, and the sharp pain in his chest spread through his whole body. Because this was so, so much worse than anything he could have expected.

How many times had Frisk died, and how many monsters killed them?

Frisk thanked Papyrus for not killing them—for not wanting them dead.

Papyrus beat Frisk until they were unconscious three times. When he blinked, he still saw the purple and black blotches that appeared on their legs, and the gooey red blood that left them when the bones splintered through their skin.

He could still feel what their bones snapping under his attack magic felt like.  

He left permanent scars on their skin.

Frisk still flinched from him. They had nightmares about him. Did they really think that what he had done was okay?

…Yes.

…They did.

Papyrus's voice cracked, and he pushed as much sincere intent into his words as he could. He let them feel a sliver of his regret through their bond, but stayed careful not to overwhelm. He needed them to understand.

“It’s not okay. I'm a grown monster, Frisk. I should know better. I never should have hurt you, or battled you when you didn't want to. You didn’t deserve that.”

Frisk stared at him with big eyes, and there was a gentle push from their bond. A prod of concern from Frisk, so small and unintentional, fueled by their worry for him.

A scream built in his Papyrus' chest that he shoved down roughly. Frisk shouldn’t be concerned about him.

Frisk patted his arm in an attempt at reassurance before they pulled back to sign.

“It’s okay. Everyone hurts me. It’s my fault.”

“no.” “No!”

He and Sans snapped their words at the same time, and Frisk flinched back, recoiling as fear spiked through them like a dagger. Papyrus flinched back too.

He was going to be sick.

Papyrus glanced up to meet Sans’s gaze, his own sockets wide as he struggled to breathe. There was a hysterical look on Sans’s face, his grin twitching.

Papyrus rushed to take over, his words pouring out of him.

“No! It is not your fault! Nobody should hurt you! There is nothing you could do that would make what happened to you okay.”

Papyrus took a deep, shuddering breath in as he bit back his volume. He shoved down the sickness that roiled in his magic and he made sure nothing trickled over to Sans or Frisk from his bonds.

“Frisk. What I did was wrong. You didn’t deserve it. I am so sorry. I will never, ever hurt you again.”

###

Frisk’s heart thumped in their chest, and they were way too aware of it. It was uncomfy.

Nobody ever apologized to Frisk for hurting them before. Papyrus even promised to never hurt them again.

Why did he say that?

It would be Frisk's fault when Sans or Papyrus hit them—they were annoying and wrong, and a bad kid. And Papyrus shouldn't feel bad about what he did. Frisk didn’t blame him, or any of the monsters for hurting them. Frisk didn’t want to be hurt—it was scary and painful. But they understood. Frisk was the only reason everyone was still stuck underground, after all.

The explanation bubbled out of Frisk, desperate to make Papyrus understand as they signed, "I don’t blame you. Everyone needs my SOUL to escape. They aren’t trying to be mean. You weren’t trying to be mean.”

The look on Papyrus’s face was all wrong. His shoulders slouched, and he hunched over, like he was trying to stay upright. Frisk hadn't ever seen him look so tired before.

“That doesn’t make what we did okay. It's wrong! Just because there's a reason doesn't mean you deserve to be hurt.”

Frisk furrowed their brows, and looked up at Sans when he shifted. The grin on his face was strained, but he gave them a gentle smile. He was so soft when he looked at Frisk, and it never made any sense.

“papyrus is right, frisky. nobody should be hurt like you were, or hunted down just because of what they are.”

###

Sans took a deep breath in, his hands clenched so tightly in his pockets that they creaked. He exhaled, and slowly relaxed his phalanges until he was no longer at risk of losing them.

Sans couldn’t afford to fall apart right now. Both Papyrus and Frisk needed him.

Frisk thought Sans wanted them dead.

And the worst thing was that Frisk wasn't wrong about that. Sans never cared when they were hurt before he knew them. He never stepped in or helped, and if it weren’t for his promise he…

He would have killed Frisk himself.

Sans's hands clenched again, twisting the material of his sleeves where they remained hidden from view as he bit down hard on the hysterical chuckle behind his teeth. This wasn’t the time for Sans to fall apart.

Frisk had sorely needed that apology.

So Sans shoved all his guilt and laughter away as he forced his expression into something less desperate and more easygoing. He donned his mask, and practice made it fall into place easily.

Frisk deserved all the softness in the world.

“papyrus is right, frisky. nobody should be hurt like you were, or hunted down just because of what they are.”

Sans could read Frisk at this point—he was good at body language, and the bond only helped with that. The furrow of their brow, and the thread of disbelief told him all he needed to know.

Frisk didn’t believe him.

But Sans didn’t know what else he could do other than continue. It was too late to change anything. He already hurt them. He already messed up.

“you shouldn’t be killed. you shouldn’t be hurt. and frisk…”

And then Sans choked on his next words, and the pain in his chest was an ache deep into his very being as tears pricked his sockets.

“i’m so, so sorry. i should have protected you. i shouldn’t have let any of that happen.”

What kind of monster was Sans? He was the worst. All the monsters that paraded through his judgment hall, their sins on display, and Sans sat there passing judgment like he had any right.

Like he wasn’t just as bad as the rest of them.

And Frisk just stared at him with their red eyes open wide in shock, so small and fragile and confused. They shook their head rapidly.

“No! No, you don’t have to apologize! It’s okay! Really! Please don’t apologize! It was nice when you were there and I didn’t have to die alone. Why would you need to protect me? That’s not… That doesn’t make any sense.”

Sans hadn't thought he could shatter more.

“frisk—i—”

Sans slammed down on his teeth so that the hysterical laughter wouldn’t slip through.

All of his worst fears were true.

All those other Sanses. No—it was him, even if he couldn’t remember—he just sat back and watched as Frisk died. Even with his promise. Even if he never killed them himself.

He really just watched them die.

Sans shook his head and pushed an attempt at a choked off explanation past his teeth.

“i, uh. i have a friend. real nice old lady. i talk to her through the ruins door and i promised her i’d keep an eyesocket on any human that came through. i promised to protect you, frisk. and i didn’t. but even if i didn’t make that promise, i still should have done something.”

Sans swallowed thickly as Frisk tugged at their sleeves across from him.

“i’m so sorry, frisk.”

Frisk didn’t meet his gaze.

…They still didn’t believe him.

But they only were more worked up now. Sans could feel so clearly through the bond that Frisk was overwhelmed and scared and confused. It was all too much for them. One look up at Papyrus’s wide sockets and creased brow bone told Sans that he was seeing the same thing.

Frisk didn’t believe them, but pushing this further would only hurt them at the moment.

Sans’s SOUL ached. But he shoved that aside and smiled at Frisk again.

“...hey. why did the skeleton need a hug?”

Relief flooded through his bond with Frisk at the change in topic, and they cocked their head to the side as their shoulders untensed.

“Why?”

“because he had no body.”

Frisk let out a breathless, overwhelmed giggle as they latched onto his joke and brushed aside the conversation. They grinned, their brow furrowed even now.

“I can fix that!”

Frisk launched themself at Sans and wrapped their arms around his middle. Sans clutched them to his chest tightly, giving them the hug they both desperately needed. 

Papyrus interjected, “Sans, that doesn’t even work! Just because we are made of bones doesn't mean we don’t have bodies! You really should embrace better jokes!”

Frisk muffled their giggle into Sans’s shirt, and his chest ached fiercely even as he carefully pushed love and affection towards them. Frisk turned their head to the side and reached out with one hand towards Papyrus. That was all the indication Papyrus needed to move forward and sweep both Sans and Frisk into a hug.

Both Papyrus and Frisk still hurt.

And Frisk still didn’t believe Sans or Papyrus.

They thought it was okay that everyone hurt them. 

How could Sans fix this?

…All he could do was be patient. Frisk had been hurt their entire life. He and Papyrus would just have to tell them over and over and they had to prove it. Prove that they would never hurt them again, and that they would never let them be hurt.

They didn’t have a great track record up to this point.

But they had to do better. They would.

Chapter Text

“—mm, yeah. I know what you mean. Speaking of, have you noticed that tall skeleton has been sulking around town more often recently?”

Frisk skidded to a halt as they overheard the conversation Violet, the shopkeep bun, was having with someone else. Next to them, MK slid to a stop, too. Though MK was a bit clumsy and they ended up almost faceplanting.

Thankfully, though it took all of Frisk's strength and the scar on their shoulder ached sharply, Frisk was able to reach out and grab them by their shirt.

“Ha ha, thanks! What are we doin–”

Frisk’s eyes widened, and they pushed their hand onto MK’s mouth. It didn’t do much to stop them, but thankfully, MK caught the hint and quieted down. Frisk tugged them both all the way behind Grillby’s as they listened in on the conversation.

*You hide behind the not as conveniently shaped building. You wonder how the conveniently shaped lamp is doing.

MK tilted their head to the side and listened too.

The next voice that spoke was the innkeeper. 

“Oh! Frisk’s brother. Yeah, it’s weird isn’t it? Didn’t he used to head out to Waterfall all the time? I haven’t seen him leave Snowdin in ages!”

When they heard Frisk’s name, MK turned to look at Frisk with a mischievous grin at the thought of eavesdropping. 

Violet said, “Yeah, I understand why he was staying around when Frisk was sick. Poor dear. But they’ve been better for an while and he still hasn’t started heading out like he used to. I wonder…”

“What?”

Violet’s answer was hushed, and Frisk strained to hear it.

“Well, rumor has it that he used to be visiting Captain Undyne when he left for Waterfall. That could be why he isn’t leaving anymore.”

“Why wou–? Oh!” There was a muffled sound, like someone hitting a paw to their head. “Of course! Yeah, it probably isn’t for the best to be drawing the Captain’s attention when he’s harboring a human.”

“The only thing that doesn’t make sense is that he kept up those visits for a while after he first took Frisk in. He only stopped after they got sick. I wonder if something happened?”

The voices drifted off as the bunnies walked away. Frisk just managed to catch the innkeeper’s response.

“...Yeah. It’s probably for the best that he isn’t friends with her anymore, though. I like that little human. I really don’t want to see them killed…”

Frisk dropped their hand to their side when they realized they were still covering MK’s mouth. MK started talking as soon as it was safe to do so.

“MAN! Where are they getting their information? I heard that there was a big blow up fight of some kind! Where Papyrus disavowed their friendship! He’s so COOL!”

Frisk’s heart thumped in their chest at MK’s words. 

“What?”

At Frisk’s panicked look, MK reeled themself back in a bit.

“Oh, uh, guess you hadn’t heard that then. He’s your brother, though! So if it happened, I’m sure you would have heard about it! Ha ha… it must have just been a rumor.”

Frisk frowned. Even if that part was just a rumor, the bunnies weren’t wrong. Frisk hadn’t really thought about it, but Papyrus hadn’t visited Undyne since Frisk had gotten sick. Before that, he used to go out all the time!

The bunnies seemed to think Papyrus stopped visiting Undyne because of Frisk. But why would he do that?

*The cold air of Snowdin makes your shoulder ache.

…Papyrus stopped seeing Undyne… after she hurt Frisk?

There was no way, right? But Papyrus seemed really upset that Frisk got hurt and killed. He cared in a way that Frisk wasn’t used to and didn’t understand.

Frisk didn’t get a chance to think about it anymore, because MK reached forward and bumped Frisk’s chest with their head.

“You’re it!”

And they ran away laughing. Frisk shook away the rest of those thoughts for the moment and gave chase, a wide grin splitting across their own face.

###

Frisk slid the door to their home open later that evening, tired and worn out from playing all afternoon, but happy. (Frisk’s home. Wasn’t that such a nice thought? Frisk finally had a home.)

“–said patella ? i barely know her!”

Sans stopped his practice for his standup at MTT resort and looked up from the couch, a gentle smile on his face.

“hey kiddo, back already? did you have fun?”

Frisk bobbed their head up and down and stopped by the door to tug off their shoes. They made sure not to track any snow or dirt into the house, and tucked them where they went by the door. Their hat and gloves came off next.

And then Sans patted the couch next to him as he pulled a hairbrush out of his inventory. His chuckles were warm.

“heheh! seems like you’ve got a pretty hairy situation going on. why don’t we get those tangles out, if that’s knot a problem.”

Frisk giggled and bounced over to the couch. They collapsed onto the cushions, and Sans chuckled at their antics.

“come on, come on. up you go, kiddo.”

Sans reached forward slowly. Slowly enough that Frisk could duck away if they wanted. But Frisk didn’t want to, so they leaned into Sans’s arms as he plucked them up and settled them in front of him.

“hey, don’t go all boneless on me. i think we’ve got some hair to fix first.”

And then he brought the brush up to Frisk’s hair, and they really did go boneless. Or as close to it as they could get.

No matter how many times Sans or Papyrus did this, it still made Frisk’s chest so full it hurt. 

Sans ran the bristles through their hair, starting at the bottom. He used to tug a lot more harshly, but now, other than the occasional snag, he was more gentle than Frisk when they tried.

Each time his phalanges brushed the back of their neck or shoulders, Frisk’s skin prickled and they had to resist leaning back into him further. The motion of the brush was soothing and repetitive. 

Frisk never had someone brush their hair before they moved in with Sans and Papyrus. And it was so, so nice. It was almost too much sometimes, the kind and gentle touches that Sans and Papyrus gave them. Frisk wasn’t used to it.

Frisk closed their eyes as Sans began humming a wordless tune quietly.

Eventually, Sans stopped with their hair and he put the brush away. Frisk sagged back against the couch, their heart heavy. Was it really over already?

But Sans was too nice to be real, because he reached forward and pulled them against his chest. He ran his cool phalanges through their hair and the touch was like electric sparks and overwhelming. He kept humming.

From where Frisk sat with their forehead pressed against the cotton of his shirt, they could hear the thrum of his SOUL. His chest rumbled with his quiet voice.

The scent of laundry detergent filled their nose, but underneath it Frisk caught hints of ketchup and chalk. That might not have been a pleasant combination otherwise, but it was Sans. It was Sans, and no one ever let Frisk get close enough and long enough for Frisk to actually know what they smelled like.

No one before Sans and Papyrus.

But Sans and Papyrus held Frisk close. They held Frisk, and they loved Frisk enough that they did things like apologize even though they didn’t have to and it didn’t make sense.

And if Frisk was right earlier, Papyrus loved them so much that he was avoiding Undyne because of them. Somehow. For some reason.

It made Frisk feel self-centered to think that. They felt selfish and silly and like it couldn’t be right that Papyrus would care about them that much. But it was the only thing that made sense, because Undyne was Papyrus’s best friend. He always went to her house, and they sparred and cooked, and Papyrus always told Frisk stories when they did something funny!

The only thing that changed was Frisk.

And because of Frisk, Papyrus was avoiding Undyne. And he’d been so sad lately. Frisk could feel it.

It was Frisk’s fault.

This situation wasn’t okay. Frisk didn’t want Papyrus to lose his best friend because of them. He missed Undyne—they were sure of it.

Frisk had to fix this.

But how?

Frisk’s eyes widened from the half-lidded gaze they had been in, and determination filled their chest. 

Papyrus wouldn’t have to avoid Undyne if Frisk was friends with her!

*You wonder if this is a good idea.

It was a good idea. Even if Undyne was scary. Papyrus himself had said they would make good friends when Frisk battled her the first time.

Frisk made friends with all the other monsters that hurt them. Really, it was just a matter of time before Frisk befriended Undyne.

It wasn’t like Undyne was evil. She just wanted to save all the monsters! Frisk could understand wanting that. Monsters didn’t deserve to be imprisoned! It just wasn’t great that to free them, she had to kill Frisk.

But even with everything that was at stake, she was honorable. During their chase into Hotland, she always made sure Frisk had a spear to deflect her attacks (even if they were very bad at that), and she left them alone after they helped her. 

Honestly? Even though Undyne scared them, Frisk thought she was really cool. She reminded them of some heroes that they would find in the comics that Mr. Angel used to teach them to read.

Yes, Frisk decided. They were going to befriend Undyne!

Frisk ignored the pain that throbbed in their shoulder and the flashes of blue they saw behind their closed eyes and focused on thoughts of making Papyrus happy.

Frisk didn’t want to move away from Sans. The warmth of his arms and the softness of his hoodie were so comforting it was overwhelming. So Frisk just burrowed in closer to his chest and spoke up quietly.

“‘m gonna go see MK again tomorrow.”

Frisk would go and see MK. And then they would go to Undyne’s after. 

It felt a little bit like lying and Frisk didn’t like lying to Sans at all. But for some reason, Frisk thought if they told him what they wanted to do, he would try to stop them.

It was a weird feeling, having someone care where you went.

“aw, do my science lessons really boron you that much?”

Before Frisk could protest, Sans just ruffled their hair playfully before moving to smooth it back out.

“i’m just teasing. i’ll walk with you after we finish up our lessons for the day.”

Frisk twisted their hands into Sans’s shirt and they sighed quietly in contentment. They mumbled into his shirt again.

“Thank you.”

And then they whispered even quieter, terrified that the words would scare him off. But they needed to say it, the words heavy in their heart and falling off their lips.

“Love you.”

And Sans just chuckled warmly. Heavy magic surrounded Frisk and filtered in through their bond. I love you. I’m so happy you’re here.

“i love you too, frisky.”

Tears stung Frisk’s eyes, but they blinked them away and focused on listening to the thrum of Sans’s SOUL, feeling the weight of his arms around them, and breathing in his familiar scent.

Having a family was so nice. It was so, so nice to be loved and to be able to feel it. Frisk wasn’t sure how long this part would last—the happy part where Sans and Papyrus loved Frisk so much. But Frisk would take it while it lasted like the greedy kid they were.

And Frisk wanted Sans and Papyrus to be just as happy.

Frisk wasn’t sure if they could really do that, but they knew where they could start. Papyrus missed Undyne. Frisk knew he did.

Frisk would fix it.

They were determined.

###

Undyne threw a punch at the crumbling rock structure outside of her house. And then another. She had dragged it there to let off some steam, and that's exactly what she did as she brought her leg up and kicked it with a furious scream.

“NGAHHHHH!”

The human came back. 

Every time they died, they came back. 

Undyne wanted to think that it was cool. She wanted to think about how awesome that was—it really was just like human history. 

And part of her did think that!!! That was AWESOME!

…Except for when it wasn’t.

Because the longer Undyne thought about it, the worse it seemed. 

And she had plenty of time to think—she hadn’t seen Papyrus in ages. He was avoiding her still—for good reason.

Undyne never wanted to drag anything out. She wanted a human to fall. She wanted them to be evil. Some horrible bad guy with a plot for destruction, and then Undyne would stop them before they could hurt anyone!

She would get the human SOUL, free monsterkind, and stop a bad guy all at the same time. 

But… that was wishful thinking. She was fooling herself. 

So she wanted to think all humans were evil. She wanted to see the worst.

She wanted the human to be an adult. 

But Undyne didn’t get what she wanted. 

Instead, she got a kid—a wimpy goody-two-shoes little brat that batted their eyelashes at her best friend until he took them in. 

She got a kid that couldn’t die.

So all of Undyne’s hopes of an honorable battle crashed and burned faster than she could smash a boulder. Which was pretty damn fast!

Because fighting someone who refused to fight back was bad enough. And hurting a kid so much worse.

But it never would have even freaking mattered.

Undyne had felt a whole bunch of shitty things when she realized (and actually let herself believe) just how old they were.

Not the least of which being the fact that an eight-year-old beat her.

She was pissed about that, actually. 

…Until she finally used the brain that was probably somewhere in her head and put the dots together. If they came back when she killed them, Undyne never had a chance.

Papyrus didn’t even know how many times she killed them. Was three right? He seemed to think it was more than that. And Undyne was pretty damn great at what she did.

There was a huge part of her that hoped that it took them more than three tries to get past her. And she was sure that was the truth. They were eight after all. Eight and wimpy and small, and they wouldn’t even fight back. 

And then she realized exactly what she was wishing for and Undyne wanted to ground her head into paste. She wanted to scream.

And so she did. Undyne screamed, loud and long into the caverns of Waterfall, the sound echoing as any monster unlucky enough to be lurking nearby scurried away. 

“THIS FREAKING SUCKS!”

It sucked so bad.

Because that meant she killed a stupid little brat over and over, even if she couldn’t remember it. 

And that stupid brat was her nibling.

Probably.

Maybe.

…If Papyrus ever even wanted to see her face again. 

She always thought if Papyrus ever had a kid, she’d be an awesome aunt. She would be cool and take them places, hype them up on sugar and hand them a pointy weapon, then send them home like that.

She never actually thought Papyrus would have a kid, but that was the plan if he did. 

And then he went and adopted the human as his kid… or his sibling. Undyne wasn’t quite clear about that. But the point was that he freaking took them in. 

Undyne screamed again, even louder for good measure. She tossed another punch at the rock structure. She ignored the way that her fist hurt.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?! NGGGAHHHHHH THIS IS SO COMPLICATED!!!”

This whole thing was a mess. 

There was a human that had the last soul needed to prevent more monsters from dying, but the human was a guppy and her best friend adopted them. 

And that wasn’t even mentioning PAPYRUS!!! Because apparently he was even more of a badass than she thought?

She always knew he was pretty freaking tough, if a bit restrained. But Papyrus was insane.

Undyne never knew Papyrus could do all of that. She didn’t understand why he was better at dodging than normal, how his attacks were so much more powerful and complicated. And that didn’t even touch on how he just ignored the magic of an Encounter!

His attacks lasted way longer than they should have. He bent the bullet box! He skipped some of her turns!

Papyrus was really freaking tough. Way more than she ever could have imagined. It was awesome.

…Undyne kind of wished she never saw it, though, because she hated how much he hurt in order to break like that.

Thoughts swirled around in Undyne’s head, and she hated them. There was no right answer here. Nothing good. Because people were dying and because Asgore was falling apart. If he had to be the one to take one more innocent SOUL, Undyne wasn’t sure how long he would last after they got to the surface.

But it wasn’t like they could get the SOUL, anyway.

And Papyrus adopted the kid.

…And they were. A kid, that was. 

Undyne screamed loud and long again as she tore forward and pummeled the rock, crumbling pieces of it going flying.

“NGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Undyne almost didn’t hear the approaching footsteps under her yelling. But despite her shitty vision, she caught sight of something moving and she whirled around to face the entrance to her yard.

And then she paused.

Because right in front of her face was the nuisance that was haunting her thoughts. The smug human stood confidently in front of Undyne’s home. Undyne’s eye twitched, and she made to stomp in front of them.

Were they here to rub their victory in her face? To tell her, “Look at me! HA! You can’t touch me! I can’t die! And even if I could, your best friend bonded with me!”

“What–!”

…They flinched.

Undyne cut herself off.

And then she took a deep breath in and released it. When she looked closer, the human wasn’t standing smug. They were standing defensively, light on their feet and ready to bolt the second she took another step towards them. There was a fire in their eyes, that was for sure, but…

They were just a brat.

Just a guppy.

She lifted one of her hands and ran it through her hair in frustration, but it didn’t escape her this time how the kid flinched back at the movement.

“…What the heck are you doing here?”

She wasn’t able to soften the bark of her voice entirely.

They shifted, and their whole being screamed “uncomfortable.” But then that fire in their eyes grew, and they lifted their hands and signed. Undyne didn’t know sign, but the Intent behind their message was impossible to miss.

[Friends?]

They grinned at her and Undyne almost lost her breath because that was Papyrus’s smile on their face. Paired with their unspoken words and that bright look, it hit Undyne harder than it had during any thinking she had done. Maybe even more than when Papyrus’s broken words finally got through her thick skull.

This was Papyrus’s kid.

…What the heck were they doing here?

She let out a groan and dropped her hand back to her side.

“Seriously, brat? Friends?!” And then she grumbled under her breath. “Oh my god, Papyrus is going to kill me.”

She raised her voice again. “Does Papyrus even know you’re here?!”

They furrowed their brow, and the fire that burned in their eyes grew brighter.

[Brother/Parent/Loved-One sad/lonely. Friends, make happy?]

What the hell. What in the ever-loving-fuck was wrong with this kid? Did they have ZERO SENSE OF SELF-PRESERVATION?!

Undyne marched forward and ignored the way they flinched back. She couldn’t help but admire the way they stood their ground though, even as she snagged them by their collar. Something thrummed rapidly under their skin, similar to the way a SOUL would flutter, and if the human history tapes were to be believed, that was probably their heart.

“Nope. Nuh-uh. We are NOT doing this. I’m going to call your dad… brother… PAPYRUS! I’m going to call or take you back to Papyrus or… or… SOMETHING! Before he loses it!”

But the kid wasn’t going to cooperate with her apparently, and they just slipped out of their sweater and darted around to stand in front of her in their tank top.

[No! Friends. Make Brother/Parent/Loved-One happy. Sad/lonely. Make happy.]

The kid was stripey. Their skin didn’t look anything like human skin in history tapes. There were lines and marks all over it. But then Undyne’s gaze snagged on one of their shoulders, a circular puncture mark, dark and raised. And she remembered what Papyrus said.

They were covered in scars.

Almost unconsciously, Undyne went to raise a hand to her eyepatch before she dropped it.

…Those weren’t just markings. They were the remnants of all the monsters that had gone after them with fatal intent. 

Undyne had never seen anything like it before. Not to that extent.

She grumbled and tossed them their sweater back. “Really, kid? He’s sure as heck not going to be happy to find you here.”

The kid stomped their foot in the same way Papyrus always did when she teased him too much.

[Friends!]

She threw her hands in the air and stormed back to her house.

“FINE! But don’t say I didn’t warn you! It’s your skin on the line. You better tell him this wasn’t my idea!”

She paused when she got to the door and then tossed her head over her shoulder.

“WELL? Are you coming?”

They beamed at her brightly and scurried towards her in a way that wasn’t Papyrus. Because Papyrus would have sassed her. No, this was more like… Asgore, the fuzzy pushover. 

What had Undyne gotten herself into?

Chapter Text

“All set! What would you like?”

Even though they’d already walked around and inspected everything in the room twice before they ever sat down, the human made to get up again.

Undyne’s hand twitched at her side. She almost tossed a spear in the table, but she was able to stop herself in time.

She was on edge and jumpy, but she forced herself to calm down.

This was Papyrus’s brat, and even though Undyne never would have suspected just how protective he could get, she wasn’t looking to get even further on his bad side than she already was.

Why was she doing this again?

Undyne itched to go pick up her phone and call Papyrus. But she stopped when the kid stood in front of the box of golden flower tea and hesitantly reached out before they turned to her.

[Drink. Brothers/Parents/Loved-Ones make. You too?]

The mention of Papyrus reminded her of why she was doing this. Because if there was one thing she and the kid had in common, it was their love for the goofball. And Undyne couldn’t deny how much the kid loved Papyrus. Not when the air was steeped with warm feelings of intent when they used his name.

It was like… Undyne could feel her hair being ruffed by Papyrus. Strong arms wrapping around her and tossing her in the air. (And maybe a bite of fear as well.) But then those arms caught her and she was safe.

It was really freaking weird seeing Papyrus like that. Innocent, goofball, lovable, Papyrus.

Undyne took a deep breath in and ignored the way her smile strained and twitched.

“Do I drink it too? HECK YEAH! Why else would it be here?! Now GO SIT BACK DOWN!!! You’re the guest! STOP MOVING AROUND!”

The kid flinched back and Undyne tried to reel herself back in again. Right. Traumatized nibling that she apparently killed. She smiled and clasped her hands together, sweat dripping down her head.

“I mean! Please have a seat. I’ll have the tea done in a sec!”

They scurried back to the table, and Undyne busied herself with filling the kettle with water and putting it on the stove. Time dragged as they waited, but eventually the water was done.

Undyne grabbed two mugs and poured the tea. And then she brought it over to the table and gently placed the kid’s cup in front of them. Well. Gentle by HER definition!

The kid didn’t grab their mug, though. Instead they ran their gaze over her hesitantly. Undyne rolled her eye, but she forced the tension in her shoulders away and plopped down on the floor on the other side of the table. A bit of the hesitance left the human at her new spot.

They took a sip of the tea.

“It’s pretty good, right?”

They nodded hesitantly, and Undyne stared into her cup.

“You mentioned Papyrus and Sans make it?” She snorted. “Papyrus normally hates tea. Wonder what changed. The only way he can drink it is if he loads it down with tooth-rotting amounts of sugar. And that’s how you ruin a good cup of tea!!!”

The mug was hot in her hands, and she looked back up at the human.

“...But it seems like Papyrus is a lot different than I thought. I never saw him as a kid-type of person, either. I think… I saw him as more of a kid himself. Too nice, too innocent.” 

And then Undyne barked out a laugh.

“HA! Not that I was wrong! He was supposed to capture you… And he ended up freaking BONDING with you instead!”

She shook her head, and after a pause she continued more slowly. Not hesitant! Undyne wasn’t hesitant.

“But I wasn’t entirely right either. And I can’t help but wonder if I ever really knew him at all.”

The human put their mug down, a frown tugging at their lips.

[Brother/Parent/Loved-One nice. Misses you.]

Undyne raised a brow at the kid. “He’s avoiding me, you know. Not that I blame him. I’d be a WEENIE if I couldn’t deal with it! And… It’s nice to see him stand up for himself. Or well, stand up for YOU, I guess.”

Undyne couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed her face.

“He never used to. He tried so hard to be popular.”

She smirked, her grin widening as she jerked her head in the direction of the kid’s mug.

“He used to force himself to drink that when he first started hanging out with me. But he’s a MESS! He would spit it outside the second he thought I looked away! It wasn’t until I told him that people drink it with sugar or honey that he could actually stand it. He just tried to drink it because I liked it.”

Undyne did her best to shake away the memories and focused back on the kid sitting in front of her. She slammed her fist on the ground, and the cup in their hand wobbled as they stared at her with wide eyes.

“Enough about that! Let’s talk about something more important! Because seriously, why the HECK are you here? You think if we’re friends, Papyrus is gonna be happy? Kid, I’m pretty sure the LAST thing he wants is me anywhere NEAR you!”

The kid… Papyrus’s kid got that same stubborn look in their eyes.

It was something Undyne appreciated. She didn’t like how complicated they made things, but…

If Papyrus had found this kid and they were a monster, Undyne knew she would love the brat already.

They lifted their hands and signed, and Undyne listened to their intent.

[Worried/Concerned/Not Safe. If friend/ally, safe. If no worry/happy, friends again.]

Undyne was sure she was missing some things in translation, but she thought she got the gist.

She closed her eye and ran her hand through her hair as she groaned.

“Kid… let me see if I’m getting this right. You think if we’re friends, Papyrus isn’t gonna worry about if you're safe anymore? And Papyrus will want to hang out with me again?”

They nodded their head, and it only cemented the fact that Undyne hated in her mind. 

This was a kid. They might be human, but it was getting harder and harder for Undyne to see them as anything but the guppy they were.

Because how they explained things—that wasn’t how it worked. But they saw the world in the simplified view of a child, so of course they thought it was that simple. And with their wimpy (Soft-hearted. Kind.) view of the world, of course they thought it was that easy.

…Though, to be honest, if Undyne hadn’t seen it herself, she wasn’t sure she would have expected the grief-fueled rage that Papyrus had either.

But… She thought she was maybe beginning to understand Papyrus a bit better. The more she got to know the brat… They really DID have zero sense of self-preservation!

She took a long sip of her tea as she stared at the kid. And then she slammed down her mug and spoke.

“That’s not how this works!”

Even if that would be nice. Because the kid was off limits now. Undyne wouldn’t—no. Couldn’t— hurt Papyrus like that again. So it would be nice if one happy-go-lucky friendship hangout could turn things back to normal.

The kid took a sip of their own tea. And then they signed again, expression firm.

[Try.]

There was no getting around this kid, was there? Not with how determined they were despite everything. 

Despite how they were terrified of her. 

The kid scanned the room like one of the older war vets that fought back on the surface. Like Gerson did on his bad days. They sat ready to jump up and had their eyes half on her and half on the door and window.

It made Undyne sick.

And yet they had stubbornness filling their SOUL in a way Undyne had never seen before. They wanted things to work. 

…And something made Undyne believe they could.

“FINE!”

She barked out, and the kid jolted. But once they calmed down, they sent her a huge grin—the one that looked just like Papyrus’s, but spread across a fleshy, human face instead of a skull.

Undyne looked at them again and narrowed her eye.

“But if we’re gonna make this work, I’m gonna need you to show me some of those signs! Show me the one you use for Papyrus again!”

They froze completely, more still than Undyne had ever seen them. No fidgeting, no looking towards the exits. They just fixed their wide eyes on her.

But after several seconds of shock, they smiled again and somehow this was even bigger than before. It split their face and was so wide that Undyne could see that one of their teeth was half missing and shorter than the others.

[Happy, so happy. Content. Brother/Parent/Loved-one!]

They only made one motion, but their intent bled over past what Undyne was pretty sure they were saying. Just to make sure, she clarified.

“You just showed me what you call Papyrus, right?”

They nodded and made the gesture again.

“Papyrus!”

Undyne did her best to repeat the gesture, and it was clumsy. Undyne was super flexible and had lots of control over her body! But she wasn’t used to moving her fingers like that.

She fixed them with a glare.

“Again!”

And so they did it again. They both did it over and over until Undyne had it down. And then considering who they lived with, she made them show her Sans, too. 

They ran out of tea a bit ago, and Undyne was going to get up to refill it, but first she had one last thing she wanted to see. 

This was Papyrus’s kid. This was her nibling if Papyrus let her stay around. A determined, wimpy, soft-hearted kid that reminded her of two of her favorite people.

This was Frisk.

“One more, punk!”

They moved to show her Sans again, but she shook her head. 

“HECK NO! I got that one now! Look!”

She made Sans’s name sign. 

“Sans!”

And then she cracked her knuckles and gave them a wide grin. She ignored the hesitation in her SOUL and leveled a finger at them. 

“Your name’s Frisk, right?! Show me that!”

Frisk stilled for another second and blinked at her like a startled animal of some kind. But before Undyne could repeat her demand, they moved. 

[…Me. Loved/bad kid/happy/sad. Me.]

Undyne saw something wet in their eyes, and her own eye widened. She didn’t know what to do with a crying kid!  But, they wiped their tears away and smiled even wider. They repeated the sign. 

[Me.]

There was so much swirling intent in the motion and Undyne had to ignore the conflicting emotions that rose up in her. Instead she repeated the gesture. 

“Frisk.”

They nodded.

And Undyne couldn’t put her finger on why, but felt like something changed. Undyne wasn't the kind of person that dwelled on that kind of stuff, though!

So she repeated Frisk’s name sign a few times, making sure she had it down.

If she wanted a chance to do this aunt thing, she wasn’t going to do it half-assed!

At that thought, Undyne grinned. She slammed both her hands on the table and ignored the way Frisk jumped.

“Okay, I got it! Now we can start this hangout for real! You wanna be friends? Well, NOTHING has brought Papyrus and I closer than cooking!”

She jumped to her feet and rushed to the counter, and then she shoved everything that had been sitting on it to the floor. 

Frisk flinched back at the sound again, and while they let out a shocked giggle after a second, Undyne tried to reel herself back in. Traumatized nibling. She should treat ‘em like she’d treat Gerson on a bad day, probably.

Still, her grin widened and she grabbed the things to make the sauce out of the fridge. She threw them on the counter, and then pointed at Frisk.

“YOU! Get over here! Let’s start with the sauce!”

They scrambled to their feet and rushed over after a split second of hesitation. …They weren’t tall enough to see the top of the counter. How the hell was this kid so TINY?!

Undyne ran over and slammed the chair from the table down in front of them and then lifted them up and plopped them on the chair. They stood stock still as she pointed at the array of food in front of them.

“Envision these vegetables as your greatest enemy! Now!! Pound them to dust with your fists!!”

The fire in Frisk’s eyes burned brighter and they slammed their fist down as hard as they could. They knocked over a tomato. Still! The passion was there! 

Undyne laughed wildly and grinned. Now THIS was bonding!

“YEAH! YEAH! Our hearts are uniting against these healthy ingredients! NOW IT'S MY TURN! NGAHHH!”

Undyne didn’t bring her fists down as hard as she wanted to. Frisk was jumpy and scared, and the last thing she wanted was to return them to Papyrus as a nervous wreck. That would do the opposite of what Frisk was trying to accomplish here.

And what Undyne was trying to, as well.

So she smashed the vegetable with a bit less force than usual, but just as much passion! They ended up all over the counter and cutting board, but both her and Frisk’s clothing remained clean.

Next to her, Frisk was tense, but they seemed to be having fun. They turned to her and signed.

[Fun/happy! …How eat/use? Next step?]

“Uhh, we’ll just scrape this into a bowl later. But for NOW!”

Undyne glanced over Frisk and decided against stomping like she wanted to. Instead she reached up and grabbed the pot and noodles from the cupboard and slammed them down on the stove.

She grinned down at Frisk and they smiled back up at her just as wide.

“...we add the noodles! Homemade noodles are the best! BUT I JUST BUY STORE-BRAND! THEY’RE THE CHEAPEST!!! NGAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Undyne cackled and Frisk giggled. They reached out and tugged at her shirt to get her attention. 

[Friends. Happy. Relieved. Ally, no hurt. Happy!]

Undyne stilled. She wondered exactly what they were trying to say. If they meant to say so much with their intent.

A kid was scared of her. But they were so happy to be hanging out and not be hurt. Undyne knew she was a lot. She made babies cry sometimes.

But this kid was scared of her because she hurt them. Not because she was too loud or passionate or energetic, but because she scarred and killed them. She was… the kind of monster that she arrested.

And they weren’t mad. They were just relieved and happy that they were… friends, now.

Frisk frowned at her, and Undyne realized she was quiet for too long. So she grinned down at them sheepishly and decided to think more about that later. When she WASN’T busy hanging out with the kid!

“Yeah. I’m… I’m glad we’re friends now too, punk.”

Then she gestured at the noodles. 

“Uhh, just put them in the pot.”

She moved the chair over to the stove and they climbed up. Then they shot her a look out of the corner of their eyes that Undyne recognized as they grabbed the box and slammed it into the pot full force.

They were looking for her approval. Just like Papyrus.

She gave them a wide smile with too many teeth.

“YEAH!!! I’M INTO IT!!! Alright! Now it’s time to stir the pasta! As a general rule of thumb, the more you stir… THE BETTER IT IS! Ready? Let’s do it!”

Frisk stirred with as much strength as their wimpy noodle arms had. Which wasn’t very much, but they were having fun, so Undyne cheered.

“YEAH! LIKE THAT! Alright, now for the final step: TURN UP THE HEAT! Let the stovetop symbolize your passion! Let your hopes and dreams turn into burning fire! READY? Don't hold anything back!!!”

Frisk turned it up. The pot caught on fire, and they paused.

But Undyne just cheered.

“Hotter!”

It got worse as they continued to turn the heat up, but Undyne was too caught up in her enthusiasm to stop it. She just kept cheering them on.

“HOTTER!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Which was probably not the best idea Undyne ever had, because the next thing she knew, it was TOO hot! She couldn’t stop the pot from exploding.

Fire flared up and crept along the walls as black soot from the explosion filled Undyne’s vision. She blinked her eyes open and then looked down at Frisk who was staring at the fire around them.

“Ah.”

She paused for a second as she took in the destruction.

“Man, no wonder Papyrus sucks at cooking.”

###

Frisk couldn’t tear their eyes away from the flames flickering around them, burning up Undyne’s house and everything in it.

No no no no no no! Why did Frisk always mess everything up? Why were they always so bad? Why couldn’t they do anything right?! 

Their face stung, and Frisk was lucky the burns weren’t any worse. As it was, they only lost a couple of HP. But they couldn’t focus on that. They turned to Undyne.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry!”

Undyne’s brow furrowed, and she barked out, “Sorry?!”

Frisk flinched back. They climbed off the chair and gave the door a quick glance out of the corner of their eye.

Undyne reached forward and Frisk stilled. Their feet froze, stuck to the ground and Frisk couldn’t make them move.

Frisk slammed their eyes shut, and they were reminded of when they poured water on Undyne after their chase through Hotland. The blistering heat was similar. And so was the way they waited for Undyne to lodge a spear in their chest.

…Undyne placed her hand on Frisk’s head.

“Why are you sorry, kid? This is my fault!”

She didn’t snap their neck like Frisk thought she might. She… ruffled their hair. Which turned into a noogie.

But it didn’t hurt.

Undyne didn’t hurt them.

Even though she had every chance and every reason to, and even though Frisk had just burned down her house after they insisted on hanging out, she didn’t hurt them.

Frisk opened one of their eyes and peered up at Undyne.

Her grin was wide and toothy and Frisk could really see why she and Papyrus were friends.

“Seriously! Don’t worry about it! HA! It’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened! Papyrus and I cause LOADS of destruction normally!”

She frowned then.

“Why are you pink?! I’m pretty sure that’s not your normal color! DO HUMANS CHANGE COLORS?!”

Frisk blinked and then lifted one of their hands to their sore cheeks. They coughed a bit from the smoke and looked around again as they swayed.

“It’s a burn.”

She narrowed her eye, and there was a slight pull at Frisk’s chest that almost felt like an Encounter, but not quite. Frisk felt it around Sans and Papyrus sometimes.

*Undyne CHECKs you.

Before Frisk could react, Undyne’s eye widened and she grabbed them around the waist and tucked them under her arm. Frisk stiffened at the close contact, but all Undyne did was run for the door.

“Oh my god! Why didn’t you SAY something? Or, well, you know what I mean! Let’s get out of this flaming house before you burn to a crisp!”

She ran through the front door and only placed them down once they were a safe distance away from the house. And then a weak green light flickered over her hand as she placed it on Frisk’s head.

It was warm. Frisk didn’t know she could heal.

Undyne gave them a crooked grin.

“I might not be as good as Papyrus at this, but I can do this much! Now why the heck did you get hurt?!”

Sans and Papyrus had explained intent to Frisk before, and they had seen firsthand how monsters couldn’t really get hurt without any. Frisk was the weird one down here.

They signed, “Humans get hurt even without intent.”

Undyne narrowed her eyes, and Frisk thought she was trying to figure out what they said.

“You get hurt without intent? Or humans in general? Man, that SUCKS!”

Frisk just shrugged. It wasn’t like it would make much of a difference to them, even if they were more like monsters. Because most of the monsters that tried to hurt them did have bad intent. It was okay, though! Because Frisk made friends with all of them.

Undyne reached forward again, and Frisk tensed. But she just noogied them.

This still went against Frisk’s instincts. They were still terrified of Undyne.

But she was Papyrus’s best friend. She was really cool, and really nice.

She… was learning sign for Frisk.

No one had ever, ever done that before. No one decided to learn sign just so they could talk to Frisk.

Undyne spoke up. 

“Hey, uh, fun as this has been, we should probably get you back home. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that Papyrus doesn’t know you’re here. But… I’m glad you came over, Frisk. I’ll try to talk to Papyrus, okay?”

Frisk hoped this would be enough. They hoped that Papyrus and Undyne could be friends again. That Frisk had fixed it.

But just to be safe, they signed to Undyne, 

“Let’s go together!”

She grinned down at them with those sharp teeth, and Frisk ignored their racing heart in order to grin back.

She said, “Sounds like a plan!”

Chapter Text

Papyrus stared at the textbook in front of him blankly as he twirled his pen in his hand. The words blurred together, and he blinked his sockets when he realized he had read the same paragraph four times.

He had to get this done. He was in his last semester before he completed his degrees! Sure, things had been busy. And… different, lately. But he was going to get his schooling done no matter what!

The only thing was…

Political science. Puzzle engineering. Both majors that he had taken in hopes of joining The Royal Guard in hopes that his professionalism and very much preparedness would show Undyne that he was ready! That he could do this!

He… wasn’t quite sure if that was what he still wanted.

Now that things had, perhaps, calmed down just a bit from the rather panicked state he’d been in since Frisk… died. (He still hated thinking that. It still made his SOUL race and sweat drip down the back of his neck as he pictured blood and their still body and the horrible, aching emptiness in his SOUL. But thinking it didn’t make him completely shut down anymore.)

…He digressed! Now that things had calmed down, Papyrus had time to think as he studied and tried to complete his independent schooling. 

He still wanted to help people. He had always wanted that! And it wasn’t like all The Guard did was… hunt humans. They protected people. Undyne had always settled affairs for townspeople, and helped keep the peace. 

But Papyrus was beginning to think that the stain of what The Guard stood for, what one of their main objectives was, would ruin it for him forever. 

He was almost done with school, though. So he would finish up, and maybe see if he could use his degrees for something else. Head of puzzle architecture in the Underground sounded good! And admirable! And popular!

…Though maybe a job with less visibility would be good, considering that he was still trying to hide Frisk?

Popularity didn’t sound as appealing as it once did. Not when Papyrus knew the consequences.

He was still lonely. He still wanted friends. …He missed Undyne, even if his emotions about her were conflicted.

But even with everything, all the pain and hurt, Papyrus would never take it back. Frisk was a gift. Frisk was something he always wanted but never knew, and they settled something hurt in his chest. Loosened some of that deep, aching loneliness.

A warm feeling entered his SOUL as Frisk got close enough to the house for him to feel their emotions. Were they back already?

Papyrus shot a glance at his clock and startled when he realized they must have been at Mr. and Mr. Monster Kid’s parents’ house for several hours at this point. 

Someone pounded on the door, way too loud for it to be Frisk, and a jolt of anxiety hummed through Papyrus at the sound. He slammed his book shut and jumped to his feet.

Sure, Sans was in the living room! But that lazybones never wanted to get up in the first place. And! Papyrus finished his work for the day, anyway! He needed the break.

He was sure everything was fine! Frisk was happy, and content, and… nervous.

They were nervous, but they were frequently nervous! That wasn’t making him worried at all! Surely one of MK’s parents was just dropping Frisk off! For some reason! Even though under most normal circumstances, Frisk would walk back themself!

…No. Papyrus was done lying to himself. He was worried. 

He yelled down the stairs to Sans, “I’ll get it!”

And then he was in front of the door himself only a few seconds later.

He yanked it open with a grin wide across his face and chirped, “Hello! Did you have fun today—?”

His words cut off and his SOUL pounded in his chest as cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck.

Frisk was there. 

And so was Undyne.

They were on her shoulders, soot covering their clothing. They smelled like fire. (Like the electric crackle and heat of magic burning their skin.)

Papyrus let out a strangled sound. And then, because the last time something like this happened, he wasn’t quick enough, hadn’t moved fast enough, he grabbed Undyne’s SOUL with gravity magic and shoved her to the ground at the same time as he reached for Frisk and yanked them to his chest. 

His head was buzzing. 

This was bad. This was very, very, very bad! 

Guilt hit him in a crashing wave as Frisk’s panic spiked, but his priority was keeping them alive at the moment. 

He ran a check the second they were in his arms, even as he backed away.

*HP 20/20

*They are scared, but they are completely healthy.

He slammed the door shut and then shoved Frisk into Sans’s arms. Sans had appeared with very convenient timing, which was good! For once, Sans’s shenanigans with time and space were less annoying and more of a relief.

Sans would get Frisk somewhere safe. Where they weren’t in danger of being killed again or having their insides leak out!

Frisk yelped through their panic, “Wait!”

Papyrus was not going to wait! There was plenty of time to wait! Later! When Frisk was far away!

“Waiting? What’s waiting? Nope! No siree, time to leave, thank you, I’ll talk to you soon! I’m sorry! Bye!!!”

He pushed Sans towards the stairs. Or maybe one of his shortcuts. But Sans didn’t move. Which was! Really, the worst possible time to be lazy!

A flood of reassurance hit Papyrus’s SOUL that wasn’t his own at all, and he gave Sans a weak glare as his knees buckled a bit. Sans just gave him a comforting smile in exchange.

Sans was not leaving. Instead he was pushing calming intent towards Papyrus.

“papyrus. pap, take a deep breath, okay? it’s okay. frisk is right here. they’re safe. undyne didn’t hurt them. look. check ‘em. they’re okay.”

Papyrus took a deep breath against his better judgment. And then he reached for Frisk’s SOUL and checked them again.

*HP 20/20

*They’re panicking, too.

Papyrus actually paid attention to their check text this time, and his hands twitched. And then he took another breath in as he looked closer at Frisk.

They were a little singed, but their HP was full. When they appeared, Undyne hadn’t been chasing them.

…They had been on her shoulders in a way that Undyne would never let someone she didn’t trust. Definitely not someone she planned on hurting. 

And Frisk hadn’t really been panicking until Papyrus panicked. And used gravity magic. And grabbed them honestly rather quickly and not nearly as slowly and carefully as he was trying to be with them.

… Despite those things, Papyrus kept a firm grasp of Undyne’s SOUL through the door. She wasn’t fighting it.

Once Papyrus had taken a deep breath, Sans adjusted Frisk in his arms so they could sign, and he said, “it’s all good, frisky. no one’s gonna hurt you, i promise. think you can let minnow what’s goin’ on?”

Frisk sagged, though Papyrus could still feel anxiety and fear humming through them. He was sure he was going to feel horrible about scaring them later, but at the moment it was hard to think over the rapid thrum of his SOUL or the shaking of his hands.

Frisk signed to Papyrus and Sans.

“I don’t have to go! It’s okay! Undyne and me are friends now!”

Frisk trailed off before they looked right at Papyrus. There was determination burning in their eyes. Along with a sadness that Papyrus did not like.

“And… Now you can be friends again, too?”

…It was Papyrus’s turn to sag.

…This was Frisk. It was Frisk, of course they tried to befriend the person who murdered them. Of course they succeeded.

He wanted to close his sockets, but the adrenaline and fear rushing through him wouldn’t let him until he knew Frisk wasn’t this close to Undyne. 

His voice trembled a bit when he asked, “Did… Did you do this because I wasn’t talking to Undyne?”

He didn’t have to see them nod to know the answer.

Frisk always thought that everything was their fault, didn’t they?

At another rush of reassurance from Sans, Papyrus straightened up and tried to calm his racing SOUL. Papyrus met Sans’s gaze, and he didn’t have to say a word. Sans just nodded.

“i’ll take ‘em to waterfall while you talk to undyne. we can chat. gimme a call when you’re done?”

Another wave of panic washed over Frisk, and despite the way Papyrus’s whole being screamed at him to get Frisk away from here as fast as possible, he paused.

And then he took a brisk step over to Sans and Frisk. He leaned down and bonked his skull against Sans’s.

“Thank you.”

And then he reached further down and bonked his skull against Frisk’s head carefully. His SOUL roiled in his chest as they flinched back.

“I love you, Frisk! It will all work out. I’m not mad at you.”

He wasn’t even disappointed. He was just terrified, but being angry or even disappointed was the opposite of what Frisk needed from him. 

They already didn’t trust him. They did this for him, as misguided as the attempt was.

It wasn't Papyrus's place to scold them when he'd already harmed them so much. He wasn't their parent. (No matter how much he wanted to be.)

Papyrus had to trust Sans to talk to Frisk about this.

For now, Papyrus had something else that he should really be dealing with!

Sans only waited half a moment more before he took a step back and disappeared. When the emotions Papyrus could feel from Sans and Frisk became absent from distance, Papyrus shuddered as he stared at the place where they had been standing.

Frisk was alive—he could feel that much. And they were also far away from here, safe, with Sans.

He breathed in. And then he let that breath go. He repeated that.

He let go of his grip on Undyne’s SOUL.

And then he kept breathing deeply as he looked around him. The wall was a burgundy color, and the paper was peeling a bit near one of the corners. Papyrus would have to fix that later. Sans’s sock was still on the floor, and sticky notes trailed from it. Papyrus had even gotten Frisk to write on one a while back. The carpet was covered in zigzags, like it always was. Papyrus needed to vacuum soon. 

Papyrus sat there for several more minutes, trying to calm his racing SOUL by walking through the same exercise Sans taught him for Frisk.

By the time he was done, his head was clearer. He felt a little less like he was dying. Or, perhaps, more accurately, less like Frisk was dying.

Undyne had apologized. She wasn’t going to hurt Frisk again. He had to trust that.

He had… maybe overreacted. 

He opened the front door again, slower this time. Undyne was sitting on the steps and looking out over the town quietly, her arms wrapped around her knees in a pose that Papyrus would almost call vulnerable, if one could ever call Undyne vulnerable.

“Hello, Undyne! I was not expecting to see you today! With Frisk! Wowie, this sure was a surprise!”

She shifted and moved to look up at him.

“...Yeah. I was pretty surprised too. Wasn’t exactly PLANNING on this, ya know?”

…Yes. When Frisk was involved, things didn't go to plan very well.

Papyrus held out a hand to Undyne, pulling her to her feet when she grabbed it. And then, once she was standing in front of him, he met her gaze. He pinched the soft fabric of his gloves between his phalanges and took another deep breath in. 

Despite the hesitance in his SOUL, his voice was strong when he said, “I’m sorry. I may have overreacted.”

Undyne punched him in the shoulder.

“PSSHT! Overreacted? Nah, all things considered, your reaction makes sense. I shoulda called ahead or something. And you think your magic could hurt ME? I was fine!”

They both ignored the fact that Papyrus very much could hurt Undyne. 

They stood in an uncomfortable silence, the only sound being Snowdin Town’s ambient magic that was honestly much too cheerful for the current moment. 

“Papyrus—“

“Undyne—“

Papyrus stumbled over his words at the same time as Undyne, but he paused to let her continue. After giving him a quick look, she did so. 

“…I think we should talk.”

Not too long ago, Papyrus would have said something like, “Talk? We are talking! Right now! Talking sure is weird, isn’t it?”

He would have distracted, bamboozled and slid his way out of a conversation he very much did not enjoy. But Papyrus was getting much better at talking recently. 

And he wanted to talk to Undyne, too. Even if he didn’t know how anymore. 

So instead he said, “Yes. I think we should. Why don’t you come in?”

He opened the door for Undyne and forced his SOUL to remain steady as she stepped into his living room. Papyrus’s gaze darted over to the dark stain on the floor that neither he nor Sans were able to entirely remove. 

The last time Undyne had been in here was all too fresh in his mind. 

Papyrus drummed his phalanges against his femur and directed Undyne to the dining room table. 

“Why don’t!!! You sit down? I can make tea!”

Undyne gave him a teasing grin as she flopped into a chair.

“YOU? Offering TEA? I knew you’d finally pick up some good taste!”

Papyrus let out a scoff as he turned to the kitchen and pulled out the kettle. 

“Yes! Well! It’s not that bad when you make it the right way!”

Undyne leaned forward as Papyrus pulled the golden flower tea from the cupboard. 

“You mean the WRONG way? Pssssht! I’ve got no idea how you haven’t rotted your teeth out with cavities, considering how much sugar you use!”

Papyrus put the bags in the mugs and filled them with hot water.

“That is an extreme exaggeration! A defamation of my character! I use an appropriate amount of sugar and to say otherwise! You would simply be wrong!!!”

With that, Papyrus made eye contact with Undyne and smirked as he poured what was probably a quarter of a cup of sugar directly into both his and Undyne’s mugs. 

Undyne cackled and slammed her fist on the table from how hard she was laughing. Papyrus moved to sit in the chair across from her and waited until she was done to place her mug in front of her. 

Banter with Undyne was still so easy. It was almost like nothing changed.

But then the change became all too apparent as Undyne’s laughter died down and an awkward silence filled the house. 

Papyrus clutched his own mug in his hands and raised it to take a deep drink. Suddenly, he felt drained, and the conversation he needed to have loomed in front of him. 

He let out a breath of air through his teeth and rested his mug back on the table.

“So talking. We should probably do that!”

Undyne stared at him with her good eye, and then her shoulders slouched.

“Yeah—uh. Yeah. I guess I’ll start. I’m sorry for showing up like I did. I just didn’t think things through.”

“Nothing new with that!”

Papyrus slammed his teeth together after the entirely unexpected remark. Undyne grinned weakly, and Papyrus’s chest hurt. 

“Yeah, I deserved that.”

Papyrus closed his sockets and sighed quietly before he opened them again.

“No. No, that was uncalled for. I apologize.”

He didn’t like how sarcastic he was. How hurt he was.

Undyne reached up and punched him in the shoulder across the table. 

She said, “Hey, after everything I’ve done, I think you’re entitled to a harsh remark or two.”

“But that is not the kind of monster I want to be.”

And Undyne was trying. Papyrus… wanted to try, too.

He just wanted his friend back. Even if he wasn’t sure what that meant for him or Frisk. 

Undyne looked him in the sockets, and a smaller smile than usual tugged at the corner of her lips. 

“You’re a good monster, Papyrus. The world could use more people like you. And… for what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you, punk. …You did good.”

Papyrus’s breath hitched as his SOUL twisted at her words.

He had always wanted nothing more than for Undyne to be proud of him, but now it felt bittersweet.

Undyne stared at him, something small, almost hesitant, lurking in her eye. And then she squared her shoulders and slammed her tea to the table and it was like the look had never been there.

“And for what it’s worth, I’M SORRY! I know I said it before, but I mean it. Hell, I’m gonna get real good at sorries if I have to! I’ve never done anything half-assed before and I’m not gonna start now! You did the right thing, Papyrus. It’s complicated… but you know that, don’t you? I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry I hurt Frisk. I’m sorry I broke your trust and I’m sorry I was a shitty friend.”

She gripped the mug in her hand so tightly that the handle cracked.

“You don’t have to forgive me. I just… You deserved to hear me say it.”

And then her grin widened, and with a glint in her eye, she reached forward and punched Papyrus’s shoulder again as he sniffled loudly.

“And HEY! While I’m at all this mushy-gushy crap–You’re really freaking cool Papyrus! You really showed off your backbone!”

Papyrus swallowed thickly, and wiped at the tears pouring down his face. Undyne shifted uncomfortably, but let Papyrus pretend like he was perfectly composed! Because he was!

He ignored the way his voice cracked.

“Well! I–thank you. But you know, I always show off my backbones! Crop tops are very fashionable outfit choices, after all!”

Undyne cackled, and Papyrus cracked.

He just wanted her back.

“And. And I forgive you, Undyne. It’s not my place to decide for Frisk, but, well. It seems like they may have decided for themself already.”

He gave her a rather wobbly side-eye.

“Speaking of! Why don’t you tell me what happened today! And why you showed up with Frisk! Looking rather singed!”

Undyne startled, and going by the look on her face, she… hadn’t expected to be forgiven.

But that wasn’t who Papyrus was. Not when Undyne was sorry. Not when she wasn’t going to hurt Frisk again. (Even if Papyrus struggled to blink past the red he saw when he looked at her.)

Frisk was safe around her. He just… had to convince his SOUL of that.

Undyne’s voice was rough when she responded, relief clear in her tone.

“Yeah! So it all started when the kid showed up at my front door…”

###

Papyrus’s tears slowed down as Undyne described the events of the day from her perspective, even if his SOUL clenched in his chest whenever he pictured what she was saying. Despite his earlier resolve to forgive her, the thought of Frisk being so close to Undyne sent sheer terror through his body.

Undyne finished up her story with wild gestures that died back into a sheepish movement as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“And, well, I guess that’s what happened.”

Papyrus fiddled with his now empty mug.

He said, “I wish you would have called me. But… I understand why you didn’t.”

Frisk was a very, very difficult person to say no to. The determination that filled them was a force to be reckoned with! And the puppy-dog eyes that Papyrus (only somewhat) regretted teaching them didn’t hurt either. 

He sighed. “Call me next time.”

Undyne’s voice was rough again when she spoke.

“Next time? You, uh, really mean it?”

Papyrus swallowed past the heavy feeling in his chest.

“I do. Undyne… I hurt Frisk, too. I hurt them badly. I would be a hypocrite if I held it against you when you were trying to be better.”

Undyne startled and looked at him with her eye wide.

“YOU hurt them?”

Papyrus bit down a bitter laugh. If only he was actually as soft-hearted as Undyne thought he was. Then perhaps he wouldn’t have hurt Frisk in the first place. But he’d been too desperate to prove himself, too lonely, too…

“I was too selfish. I wanted to prove to you I could join The Guard. I wanted to be popular, like you. I wanted you to be proud of me. I told you before, didn’t I? So long ago? I fought the human. I fought Frisk. I brought them down to one HP three times before I finally felt bad enough to let them go.”

Part of him wondered if that would get rid of the pride Undyne had in him. It was a wry thought.

He wasn’t cruel enough to win her approval in the way he first sought, but he was too cruel to be the paragon of kindness that she thought he was.

But. It didn’t matter. While he still loved Undyne, he didn’t hinge his entire existence on what she thought of him anymore.

He hadn’t for a long time.

That started crumbling the moment he took Frisk in with the knowledge lurking deep in his mind that she might never forgive him.

Before Undyne could say anything, Papyrus continued.

“But Undyne, while it may be hypocritical of me, I don’t want you alone with Frisk. I can’t–”

Papyrus swallowed and his voice dropped.

"It terrifies me.”

“Papyrus…”

Papyrus forced his voice back up into a more cheerful tone. “So!!! Yes! If that ever happens again, please call me! As soon as possible!”

Undyne nodded. And then she gave him a small grin.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

And Papyrus trusted her. 

So with shaking hands and a harshly beating SOUL, Papyrus reached for his phone and gave Undyne a bright grin.

“Nyeh heh heh! Well then, even if you’ve already met! I think that I should properly introduce you to your nibling!”

The misty look in Undyne’s eye told Papyrus all he needed to know.

Chapter Text

Frisk’s stomach twisted, and they grabbed onto Sans’s jacket tightly as he took them through a shortcut into Waterfall.

Papyrus said he wasn’t mad. And Sans wasn’t mad either.

But Papyrus had been so scared, and that wasn’t what Frisk wanted. They just wanted him and Undyne to be friends again. They wanted Papyrus to be happy. It was Frisk’s fault he was so sad and upset in the first place, and they had to make it better. 

But they just made it worse.

Frisk’s face scrunched up, and they tried not to cry.

“heya, why the long face? pap told you, didn’t he? he’s not mad. i’m not mad, either. we’re just worried.”

Comfort surrounded Frisk as Sans layered his magic over them in the nice way he did when they were upset, and Frisk relaxed a bit, even if tension still filled their SOUL.

When Frisk chanced a glance up, he was looking out at the glittering ceiling that seemed to stretch for ages over the echo flower fields in front of them.

He carried them through the fields quietly for a bit, and Frisk was too worried to interrupt his thoughts. Instead, they just listened to the hushed hopes and dreams that rose from the flowers around them and twisted together with the melody of the ambient magic. 

Finally, Sans broke the silence and said, “i’ve made a few wishes, ya know?”

His voice was lower than normal. It didn’t last long, though, before he lightened his words as he gave them a light squeeze and chuckled.

“wished for the mega-sized bottle of ketchup that the general store had once… and then i bought it. papyrus wasn’t very happy.”

He trailed off, and Frisk tried to figure out why he was talking about this. And why he wasn’t punishing them since Frisk clearly made Papyrus upset.

“...but my biggest wishes were for my family. ‘course they don’t all come true, but i make ‘em anyway. it’s tradition.”

Sans got a far away look in his sockets before he gave a quiet sigh.

“i wanna show you something. one more shortcut, if you’re up for it?”

Frisk nodded against his chest, and the next time they blinked, they were in an unfamiliar area of Waterfall. Frisk had to hold back a quiet gasp at the sight.

It was beautiful.

Despite how much Waterfall still scared Frisk, (They couldn’t forget how many times they were chased here. How many times they were killed.) it really was one of the prettiest places in the world.

And now they were with Sans, tucked away in a hidden portion of the cliffs that overlooked the echo flower fields and wishing room. There were walls on all sides except one, but that didn’t cut off the sight in front of them. 

*The only entrance to this place is your brother’s magic. Or flying.

*It seems well lived in.

And it did. Despite the damp ground in most of Waterfall, up here remained hidden from the elements. There was a pile of beanbags in a corner. Old papers, covered with complicated math and faded from water damage and age, were stuffed in a box.

A black coat that was too big for Sans, but definitely wasn’t something Papyrus would wear, was draped over a beanbag along with a green crocheted blanket. And on the cave walls someone had drawn shaky stars and moons, along with the words “sans was here.” Near the edge of the opening that overlooked the wishing room down below, a patch of echo flowers grew. 

Sans set Frisk down on their feet, not letting them go until they were steady, and then held up a phalange in front of his teeth in a silent request to be quiet. He tugged them over to one of the flowers.

And then he crouched down and brushed a hand against the petals, jostling it and making it speak in his own voice. But… different? He sounded… younger. And scared.

“i don’t know what i’m doing. i can’t mess up. please, i need da–”

The real Sans gave a sheepish chuckle and then poked the flower again and it went silent. Frisk was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to work like that, but there was no use questioning Sans. Lots of stuff didn’t work the way it was supposed to around him.

He raised his hands and signed to them.

“oops, wrong one. lemme try again.”

He reached for a different flower, and when he brushed his phalanges against it, the voice was more like the Sans Frisk was used to.

“it’s been a while since i’ve been back. but… i think i’m learning how to hope again. and i think i’ve got enough hope to make one more wish. heh. i’ve actually got a whole bunch of ‘em. seems like a lot of effort to say ‘em all, though, so i’ll just start with one. if anything’s out there listening… i wish frisk didn’t have to deal with so much. just let ‘em be a kid.”

Frisk stilled entirely as the echo flower trailed off.

Sans squeezed their hand before he drew back and led them to the corner of the cave. It was far enough away that none of the flowers would pick up their voices if they spoke quietly enough.

Sans flopped back onto a beanbag and grabbed the blanket. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled off his jacket and draped it around Frisk. It smelled like Sans and comfort, and Frisk didn’t even realize how tense they’d gotten until his magic surrounded them like a warm hug and they melted.

As more of the tension filling Frisk’s body drained, Sans tugged the big black coat onto himself and pulled Frisk onto the beanbag with him, tucking the blanket around both of them. 

Frisk ran their fingers over the blanket. Something about it and the coat seemed so familiar to Frisk, but they couldn’t place it.

Sans gave a soft chuckle as he smoothed their hair down.

“they were my dad’s. there’s… still a bit of magic left in ‘em, even if almost everything else is gone.”

He paused and pulled the coat further around his shoulders before he continued.

“he would have loved you, ya know? just as much as i love you. and as much as papyrus loves you.”

Tears pricked Frisk’s eyes.

Sans loved them. He… made a wish about them. Even when he wasn’t around them. Because Frisk could tell that Sans never meant for anyone to see this place. 

He really thought of them when they weren’t there.

At every turn, Frisk continued to be surprised by just how much Sans and Papyrus cared.

“and it’s because we love you that we’re scared. i want you to be able to be a kid, frisky. adults’ problems are our own, you know? it’s not up to you to fix it.”

“But–”

He seemed to know what they were going to say, even though they cut themself off. He waited a second to see if they would continue before he hummed.

“it’s not your fault, frisky. undyne did something that hurt papyrus. if they don’t make up, that has everything to do with what she did, and nothing to do with you.”

Sans didn’t understand.

He and Papyrus had given Frisk so much. Frisk had to help. They had to be good. Sans and Papyrus deserved a good kid that didn’t upset them, but Frisk wasn’t. So they had to try and make up for it.

…But considering how upset Sans and Papyrus had been, Frisk probably just made everything worse, anyway.

They didn’t meet Sans’s gaze. They just tugged at their fingers lightly for a moment before they signed.

“...I’m sorry.”

Sans hugged them. And then he tucked his jaw on their head and held Frisk like a teddy bear as he hummed.

“‘s okay, frisky. i’m just glad you’re okay.”

Frisk tried not to sniffle as they grabbed a handful of Sans’s shirt in their hand and listened to the steady thrum of his SOUL against their back.

Frisk was so glad Sans wasn’t mad at them, but they still messed up. Frisk had a family now, and they couldn’t stand it if Sans and Papyrus figured out just how bad they were.

Because after they bonded, Frisk realized just how dangerous their position was. Before, Frisk knew it was all going to end. They didn’t have to be as careful because Sans and Papyrus were going to get tired of them no matter what.

But then they said Frisk was theirs for keeps, even if it didn’t make sense.

And so it was Frisk’s job to make sure they didn’t mess it up more. They had to keep Sans and Papyrus happy, and they had to be good. They had to do their best.

And Frisk knew they weren’t good. They didn’t always know that, but it became super clear when they fell underground.

Because if such nice people hurt Frisk, then it must be Frisk’s fault. Mr. Angel always told Frisk that the people that hurt them were bad, and Frisk believed him. Because those people hadn’t been nice.

But monsters were.

Which meant Frisk was the bad one, and it was a ticking clock before Sans and Papyrus realized that.

So Frisk had to do their best to be good, even if they weren’t.

Sans drew Frisk out of their thoughts when he squeezed them tight. Frisk melted against him and tried to let his warm hug wash away their worries.

“…how about we go to grillby’s tonight?”

Before Frisk could respond, Sans’s pocket vibrated, and he pulled out his phone. After giving them a quick look, he answered.

“‘sup?”

Even from a bit of a distance, Frisk could hear Papyrus’s voice, though they couldn’t entirely make out what he said. Sans listened and then hummed.

“okay.”

And then Sans looked over at Frisk before he continued.

“i’ll see if they’re okay with it.”

There was another pause.

“yeah. we’ll pick up dinner on the way over. …see ya soon.” 

Sans clicked his phone shut and looked down at Frisk.

“you up for going back? undyne’s still there. papyrus mentioned something about ‘proper introductions’ and having dinner. but we don’t have to head back yet if you don’t want to. and if you need me to, i think a lazy ol’ bag of bones like me can chase away a single fish.”

Sans’s words sent a rush of relief through Frisk, because if Undyne was there and staying for dinner, then maybe Papyrus and Undyne actually made up. Maybe Frisk really did help.

“I’m ready! You don’t have to chase anyone.”

Frisk giggled as they pictured Sans chasing away Undyne with a slipper in his hand. Sans and the word “chasing” didn’t seem like they belonged together.

Sans shrugged and winked at them.

“offer’s open any time. you just let me know.”

Frisk nodded their head and got to their feet and after a moment and some shuffling, Sans clambered up, too, and offered them a hand.

“here. i know a shortcut.”

Frisk smiled, and the heavy feeling in their heart was a little lighter.

###

Papyrus tucked his phone away after Sans hung up and fidgeted and ignored the heavy thrum of his SOUL.

Frisk was on their way back. While Undyne was still here. And he arranged it.

It would be okay. It would be fine! Because Frisk was okay with it, and because Papyrus forgave Undyne. And while she still needed to make better amends with Frisk, she wasn’t going to hurt them again.

Undyne interrupted his thoughts.

“Soooo, uh. Whatcha been up to lately? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

They both knew why.

Papyrus responded.

“School. Taking care of Frisk.”

…It was awkward again. It seemed that even after forgiving Undyne, they couldn’t quite fall back into normal conversation.

Papyrus skimmed the house looking for something to talk about–anything to break the silence while they waited for Sans and Frisk to come back. (...A large part of Papyrus didn’t want them to come back. Not until Undyne had gotten tired and left. And then he scolded himself, because, really. It would be fine.)

Undyne spoke again before he could.

“...So, school, huh? You’re probably almost done now.”

In the past, neither of them talked about Papyrus’s schooling. And he used to ignore that it was because Undyne didn’t want to think about turning him down from The Guard again after he graduated.

Now it was Papyrus that didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about anything to do with The Guard. As a result, his answer was short.

“Yes, I’m in my last semester.”

…

Seconds dragged on, and a bead of sweat slid down Papyrus’s skull. 

Across from him, Undyne wasn’t much better.

They both shifted and after a long pause Papyrus was about to offer more about how school was going, despite his reluctance. But before he could, Undyne stiffened as she caught sight of something behind him. And then she relaxed, and there was a soft look in her eye, even as she scoffed.

“So, punk. Taking care of a kid, eh? They make this?”

She stood up and walked to the wall to examine something, and Papyrus finally saw what she was looking at.

It was the first picture Frisk ever made. The one with Papyrus and Sans, and the squished in Frisk in the middle that they added after he requested it.

And a grin spread across Papyrus’s face, because yes. Yes, that was something he could talk about for hours.

He stood up to join Undyne.

“It was the first picture they made me! They didn’t add themself at first, but well. They did when I asked! And they’ve come so far—Look!”

Papyrus pulled Undyne over to look at the fridge. He gestured at the drawings that were scattered on it. Admittedly, he didn’t recognize all of what Frisk drew. Or even… most of it. Colorful circles and squished shapes were sometimes interrupted by a black blob. But! Frisk was getting much better at making recognizable figures! Papyrus even thought he saw Monster Kid in one of them.

“Their lines are much more bold and confident!”

Undyne raised a brow at him.

“Suuuuuuure.”

Papyrus narrowed his sockets at her. But he brushed it off and turned back to the original picture. 

“They really have. And not just in their art! Look!”

And Papyrus whipped the photo book he carried in his inventory on him at all times out and yanked Undyne over to the couch. Because Papyrus had so many stories and things he wanted to share, and no one to share them with before now.

When they were sitting, Papyrus spread out the album across their laps.

“Here! Look! This is the first time Sans and I took Frisk ice skating! This was very soon after we took them in. They were! Not very good at it, actually.”

A smirk grew on Undyne’s face as she looked at the picture of Frisk holding on for dear life to Papyrus’s hands as he bent low and tried to guide them.

“HA! Skates are lame. I can’t blame the punk.”

Papyrus shot her a look out of the corner of his sockets.

“You’re right! Very lame. I’m sure it’s because they are so lame that the last time you tried, you somehow ended up in a snowbank! …On the opposite side of Snowdin! Somehow.”

She groaned and shoved him.

“You LAUNCHED me!”

“Turn about’s ‘fair play,’ as they say!”

And then he pointed to the next image–one with Sans laughing harder than he had in years, covered in pepper at Grillby’s as the entire bar laughed, and Frisk wore a proud grin.

“Normally I don’t approve of japes! But this was the first time Frisk pulled a prank, and so I made an allowance!”

And then he thought of… The Ketchup Incident, and shuddered. But the grin didn’t leave his face.

“Sadly, this was not their last foray into tomfoolery. I blame Sans!”

###

Undyne sat with Papyrus as he went through his photo album. It was filled.

She shot another glance up at the drawing that had caught her attention in the first place, and couldn’t tear her eye away from it.

It sucked.

It sucked, and it was clearly done in a shaky kid’s hand. She couldn’t tell what any of Frisk’s drawings were. 

But Papyrus was so proud of it in the way that Undyne expected from Papyrus for anyone, but also in the “parent who thinks even a sneeze is a work of art when their brat did it” way.

“—and this is one of their many lazy naps together!”

She looked back at the album and saw a picture of Frisk curled up at Sans’s side on the couch, both sound asleep. Papyrus waved one of his arms energetically, and his next words sounded offended.

“Did you know human children Frisk’s age have to sleep ten to twelve HOURS?! It’s obscene! Sans is going to pick up more bad habits!”

Undyne grinned, wide and sharklike.

“Sounds like you could USE some of that! When do you even sleep?”

Papyrus looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

“Never!”

Before Undyne could say anything, Papyrus barreled on to the next image. It was one of Frisk standing in the doorframe to the kitchen. There were two notches, and one of them was maybe a centimeter higher than the other. It was barely noticeable.

“LOOKIE! They grew!”

And Undyne winced when he drew her attention to it. Because the pictures made it hard to ignore, but–

Frisk was tiny.

Sure, Undyne had realized that. But damn.

One of the first pictures Papyrus had shown her was the kid wearing a long t-shirt as they sat with Papyrus and he braided their hair. (He did a surprisingly good job for someone who didn’t have any himself.)

And in that picture, Papyrus dwarfed Frisk. They could probably fit in one of his boots. Their arms and legs stuck out of their clothes like toothpicks, and maybe humans were supposed to look like that. But based on the animated history tapes Undyne had seen, she didn’t think that was true. If they were a monster, Undyne would think they were in the last stages of falling down, after having not been able to eat for months.

Undyne could snap their limbs easier than a stick by breathing too hard. (...She wondered how many times she had.)

The picture Papyrus was proudly showing her wasn’t much better. They were a centimeter taller, and maybe a bit more filled out if she squinted, but still way too small.

Papyrus flipped the page, and an image of Frisk sitting with some kind of metal stick and a ball of yarn appeared. Knitting, maybe?

“And look! Frisk likes to crochet! I’m not sure why Sans had all of those things, but they sure came in handy! Here, look, look!”

He shoved the album onto a coffee table that Undyne knew they never used to have. It was covered with more pictures and magazines, as well as little kids’ workbooks for things like spelling and math.

And then he reached behind him and grabbed a handmade blanket that was sitting on the back of the couch and shoved it into her hands.

“LOOKIE! They’re only eight, but look at this. See those stitches! They are so fancy!!!”

Undyne could tell that Papyrus had just about as much knowledge as she did about what they were looking at. But Undyne could see the care put into it. It was bumpy and uneven in places, but it was soft and well taken care of.

Every part of this house screamed, “a kid lives here.”

Papyrus left the blanket in her hands, and Undyne made sure not to snag it with her nails as he picked the album back up. She didn’t really have a chance to say much in between Papyrus’s endless rambles, but that was okay.

She wasn’t sure she had much to say as she took in everything he showed her.

He pointed to a photo of Frisk sitting on the bathroom sink, brushing their teeth next to Sans.

“This is Frisk and Sans brushing their teeth! I knew Frisk would be a wonderful influence on Sans—now he brushes his teeth every day! Sometimes even twice! And did you know humans lose and regrow their teeth?!”

Undyne grinned widely at him.

“Now THAT’S BADASS!”

Papyrus smiled back and laughed.

“Nyeh heh heh! It is!”

Papyrus kept paging through the book, and Undyne shoved down the ache in her chest.

She’d missed so much.

He could call it what he wanted—brother or dad or whatever—but her best friend adopted a kid. He adopted someone who Undyne was realizing was pretty cool. And she missed it.

Papyrus flipped another page, chattering the entire time. And Undyne wasn’t the most observant person, but after a few more images, she noticed something.

Frisk wore the same blue and purple sweater in almost all the images in the first part of the album. But then it disappeared.

…Undyne wasn’t paying attention to the details at the time, but Frisk might have been wearing that sweater during their Encounter. And it… probably didn’t make it through. 

Because of what she’d done, Undyne missed this part of Papyrus’s life. This part of Frisk’s life.

“heya. we brought food from grillby’s.”

A lazy drawl spoke up from across the room, and Undyne threw the blanket in her hands into the air before she could stop herself.

“WHEN THE HECK DID YOU GET HERE?!”

Quick as a whip, Papyrus snatched the blanket out of the air and folded it, putting it back where he got it.

“Frisk! Sans! You’re back! …And you brought Grillby’s. Really? The grease is horrible for you! It makes me break out.”

Papyrus walked over to the two sitting at the table, his hands on his hips. Sans pushed a thermos towards him and shrugged.

“grillby made hot chocolate for you.”

Undyne stood up and walked over to join them. But she paused when she saw the tension building in Papyrus’s spine. He shot a glance at her. And then he looked at where Frisk sat next to Sans, and sweat dripped down his skull.

“Ah! Undyne! It’s… time for dinner!”

He reached into a bag at random and then made a face when he saw what he pulled out.

“Grease! I see Sans picked up some tasty… delicious… grease. ”

It was a thing of fries. Not cheese fries, but Undyne was the guest, so she wouldn’t complain. …She honestly expected to be chased out way before this.

He shoved it at Undyne, who still wasn’t at the table. And then he turned back to Frisk and fidgeted.

“Frisk! I’m sorry. For scaring you earlier.”

Frisk gave him a long look before they hopped out of their seat and walked closer to Undyne and Papyrus. Papyrus got even tenser. Before Frisk could get any closer, Papyrus stepped in front of Undyne and laughed, the sound high pitched.

He was nervous. All the calm that he’d gained earlier while he gushed about Frisk left him in the blink of an eye when they were actually here.

Frisk didn’t say a word. Or, well, uh. They didn’t sign. They just held their arms out to Papyrus.

He swooped down and tucked them into his arms faster than Undyne thought was possible. They looked like a freaking teddy bear in his arms, or maybe a moldsmal. The kid wasn’t much bigger.

Frisk patted his face now that they could reach and signed.

[Fine/Not Upset/Sorry]

Papyrus watched the kid. But he also watched Undyne, and she had to hide a wince at his caution.

He spoke to Frisk.

“Still. I am sorry. I should have listened to you better.”

When he talked to them he was so… different. Softer. Not as energetic.

While Papyrus and Frisk were having their moment, Sans grabbed Undyne’s attention and gestured to the chair next to him.

“why don’t you have a seat with me? they might be a moment.”

But when she tried to do what he suggested, a long, drawn out fart sound emanated from the chair. She jumped back up and glowered at Sans. 

“HEY!”

He shrugged his shoulders in that infuriating way he did.

“huh. wonder how that got there?”

“YOU—I—URGH!”

She threw her arms up in defeat as Sans laughed, though she wasn’t actually mad. 

She didn’t interact with Sans as much as Papyrus, even though he worked for her. But being pranked by him was something familiar that hadn’t happened in… a long time.

Not since they’d taken in Frisk. Undyne hadn’t even realized how long it had been since she’d visited the skeleton household. She still groaned at Sans, though.

“How’d you even get in here, anyway?”

He winked at her.

“i know a shortcut. how’d you get in here?”

Undyne sputtered and gestured at the front door. 

“Papyrus let me in! DUH!”

“huh. guess he did. welp, might as well make yourself at home. but before that…”

And then suddenly, Undyne couldn’t move. There was nothing actually preventing her from moving, but a chill ran down her spine, and she couldn’t tear her eye away from Sans’s empty sockets.

“You’re on thin ice.”

Undyne swallowed thickly, but before she could react, the pressure on her shoulders lifted and Sans slid a glass of ice water in front of her as he chuckled.

“hey, lighten up. ‘ice,’ get it?”

Undyne laughed weakly and took the glass into her suddenly clammy hands.

“Ha… Ice. Yeah.”

Was that her imagination? …Of course. It was Sans. He couldn’t be intimidating if he tried, the wimp. Undyne still wasn’t sure how he’d even gotten hired as a sentry. He just kinda… showed up on the payroll one day? And his stations were in place?

“RIGHT! Time to eat!”

Undyne jolted at Papyrus’s voice as the skeleton slid into a chair on the other side of the table. He still hadn’t put Frisk down, and now they perched on one of his legs.

Undyne joined them after checking for any more stray whoopee cushions. But try as she might, she couldn’t unsee the way Papyrus tensed any time she moved, or the way his magic curled around Frisk defensively. 

Dinner was a pretty tense affair, all things considered.

At least until Frisk took it upon themself to break the silence… Well. Kind of break the silence. They pushed their empty plate to the side and signed.

[Ally/friend/new family (scared, scared, scared) learn. Happy. Communicate!]

It was a mess of feelings and emotions, but thankfully Papyrus translated for her.

“Wowie! Undyne is learning sign? That’s great!”

Frisk nodded rapidly and then beamed. They turned to her.

[Show!]

Undyne laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of her neck.

“Come on, kid! I haven’t learned that much yet.”

Frisk narrowed their eyes at her.

[Show!]

And so Undyne caved, because it was hard to resist the way the atmosphere slowly warmed up around them. It was impossible not to sink into the comfort and family that she’d been missing out on, and hadn’t even realized.

Undyne showed off her new signs. And then it devolved, because Sans tried to teach her something else that he said was her name, but according to the shocked giggles from Frisk, and the disapproving amusement from Papyrus, was very much not something she wanted to be called.

Eventually, the evening fell into an energetic recollection of what exactly Undyne and Frisk had gotten up to. For the second time. …But this time, as Papyrus listened, he seemed to be less worried and more caught up in the fun of it all.

Despite the warm and light atmosphere, and the way they all migrated to the couch and floor after a bit, Papyrus never let go of Frisk for more than a minute. The kid clearly had no complaints about it, though—just about melting into him.

Eventually, as the night wore on, Frisk’s eyes slipped shut, and they nuzzled closer into Papyrus’s sweater.

The look in Papyrus’s sockets was one Undyne was still getting used to. Sappy and soft and down right paternal as he leaned down and brushed his teeth against the top of their head in a kiss.

He looked up after a second and inclined his head towards Sans and Undyne, getting their attention with his next words, even if he directed them towards Frisk.

“It seems like it’s time for little humans to be asleep! Why don’t you get ready with Sans, and I’ll be up for our bedtime story in a few minutes?”

Frisk nodded sleepily and Sans took his cue and shuffled up to Papyrus, taking Frisk from his arms. Papyrus lingered a bit before handing them over.

“bedtime, kiddo. let’s let papyrus say bye to undyne.”

Frisk waved slowly at Undyne before Sans took them upstairs.

And then Papyrus and Undyne were alone again.

He started.

“Soooo… Your house was burned down?”

Undyne let out a cackle, and after a second Papyrus joined her, quiet ‘NYEH’s filling the air. When she calmed down enough to respond, she shrugged her shoulders.

“Eh, what can you do about it?”

And then Papyrus got a gleam in his socket, a bright, innocent smile on his face.

“I don’t suppose you have anywhere to stay, do you? You know, I bet Dr. Alphys has space for you!”

Heat rushed to Undyne’s face as a small smile twitched onto her lips.

“Yeah! Alphys is really cool like that! I don’t want to impose on her, though.”

The grin on Papyrus’s face grew wider.

“I am sure you wouldn’t be imposing! She probably has lots of space that you could stay in! Maybe even in her room! It would be like a sleepover! Between totally platonic friends!”

Undyne blushed brighter, and she gritted her teeth as she lunged for him.

“PAPYRUS!!!”

Papyrus narrowly dodged her incoming tackle and laughed.

“Don’t noogie the skeleton! Nyeh heh heh!”

…Things weren’t perfect, but the day had gone better than anything Undyne ever could have hoped for.

Chapter Text

Smack!

Cold, hard bone connected with Frisk’s cheek. They stumbled and fell to the ground from the force as hot copper filled their mouth.

Blue.

Frisk had never liked a color as much as they did that exact shade of blue, but they struggled to see it through their blurry vision. So they focused on the smear of pink slippered feet in front of them instead.

Pain bloomed on their cheek from their injury, and Frisk licked their split lip to prevent the blood from splashing onto the ground.

They couldn’t stop their tears from falling, though.

Sans spoke up, his voice low and easygoing like it always was.

“heh. this was a real funny joke, kid.”

He chuckled, the same warm sound as when he pulled a prank. The same laugh that he gave when Frisk made a joke, or Papyrus scolded him with no real anger behind it.

It was a sound Frisk loved more than they ever thought was possible.

And then that laugh gained a mocking edge, and it echoed around them.

“but it’s done now.”

His laughter cut off abruptly as he scoffed and spat his next words like acid, burning Frisk with every word.

“really? you really thought we would want someone like you here?”

He took a slow step forward, and Frisk couldn’t tear their eyes away from his slippers as he approached.

One foot, then another.

And then he crouched down in front of them.

He reached up and Frisk flinched back, but he didn’t pause. The same cool bones that hurt them in the first place brushed against Frisk’s sore cheek and carefully wiped away the tears running down their face.

Sans was gentle with Frisk. He was always gentle with them.

He slowly tilted their head so they met his gaze, his touch feather light and mindful of their injury.

His harsh words were a mistake. They had to be.

“you had us fooled, kid. but did you really think it would last?”

Sans’s gentle grip on their face turned bruising. The hard bones of his hand were unforgiving, and the tips of his phalanges dug into Frisk’s damaged skin, drawing blood.

They bit back a gasp, but their cheek wasn’t the thing that hurt.

Their chest was heavy and Frisk could barely understand the words coming from Sans’s mouth through the ringing that filled their head.

Despite the bruising force he held them with and the blood on his phalanges, his voice was achingly soft as he explained to them.

“papyrus has been miserable since you’ve bonded. you see that, don’t you? everything you touch breaks. i can’t believe you tricked us for so long. it should have been a clue when papyrus didn’t even choose you. why do you think he’s not here right now?”

He shook his head, slow and sad.

“even if we feed you and take care of you, all you do is cause more problems.”

Frisk sucked in a gasp, but they couldn’t breathe. Sans wasn’t done talking, though. 

“i made a mistake.”

No. No no no no no no—

Sans lightened his grip to something softer again. He brought his hand up and placed it on their head. He carded his phalanges through their hair, just like he always did. Like those warm evenings when he read Frisk and Papyrus a bedtime story, or when they sat and watched a movie together.

Once.

Twice.

And then he twisted his phalanges, grabbed a handful and yanked.

He snapped Frisk’s head back, and they yelped, loud and high pitched as it echoed. Sharp pain radiated from their neck and scalp and blood dripped from their lips, choking them, filling their mouth and bubbling out. It dripped onto the ground and Frisk whimpered.

“Shut up!” Sans barked.

His voice echoed through their head and the dark space around them as Frisk took a gasping breath in.

He pulled his hand back from their hair, his phalanges still tangled up and yanking strands out. Sans didn’t pay it any mind as he grabbed them by the scruff of their favorite sweater. He gave them a rough shake, and the collar pulled at Frisk’s neck and choked them.

And

they

couldn’t

breathe.

Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe.

“nobody will ever want you. there’s a million other better kids out there.”

The surrounding blackness filled their vision, inky darkness leeching what little color there was in the world.

Sans stared down at them, and his eyelights flickered away from his sockets.

“You‘ll never be good.”

He yanked them up and Frisk kicked their feet out. They tried to push their voice out and beg, but all that left them was a choked gargle.

Frisk would be good! They could do better—they would be good—they would help! They were sorry, please!

But as easily as Sans always carried them, he dragged them over to the door that appeared and tossed them outside. Frisk landed in the cold snow and skidded back, ice digging into their hands and veins and freezing them in place.

“too little, too late, kid. you had your chance, but all you brought was misery. it’s no wonder no one ever kept you. sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

He went to shut them out, and there was no way it could get worse. It couldn’t get worse, it couldn’t—

He paused, and his next words were almost casual. Spoken without a hint of anything—not love, not hatred, not even annoyance.

“don’t talk to me or papyrus ever again.”

He slammed the door shut in front of them, and a click rang out, echoing in the silence as he locked it.

Frisk shoved past the ice freezing their veins, and scrambled to their feet. They ran, snow melting into their socks as they slid and fell in their desperation to get back. They got up and ran again.

They pounded on the door.

They’d been locked outside plenty of times before. But not like this—

They scratched at the wood and wailed as their nails splinted and broke, and blood dripped down their hands, unbelievably hot compared to the cold lodged in their SOUL.

Their voice cracked as they cried out.

“Sans! Papyrus! Please! I’m sorry, I’ll be good! Please don’t leave me! Please!!! Sans! Papyrus!”

But nobody came.

###

Frisk’s chest heaved as they sucked in a gasp and their eyes flew open. 

Cool air brushed against wet and sticky tears on Frisk’s face and they looked blankly at the room around them.

They weren’t outside in the snow. Frisk was curled up in their bed in the room they shared with Papyrus. They were clutching Softy against their chest.

A nightmare. It was just a nightmare. Sans didn’t kick them out.

He never said those things.

He didn’t… He didn’t say that. 

Right?

Frisk slammed their eyes shut and felt for their SOUL like Papyrus taught them. There. They found the warm strands of blue and orange, and while they couldn’t see them, Frisk could feel them. Both Sans and Papyrus were asleep.

Sans wasn’t upset. 

*You take a deep breath in. And out. You feel your brothers through your bonds.

Sans wasn’t mad. (He wasn’t.)

Frisk sat up. They didn’t know what they were doing as they wrapped their blanket around their shoulders and held onto Softy, their fingers digging into the soft fabric. They slid out of bed and quietly made their way out of the room. They weren’t thinking as they walked down the hall and ended up in front of Sans’s door.

They didn’t know why they were there. They should go back to bed.

Mr. Angel used to sing them back to sleep after they had a bad dream, but he wasn’t real. He wasn’t real, and Frisk couldn’t bother Sans or Papyrus with them every time they got scared from a stupid bad dream.

(“—all you do is cause more problems.”)

…Frisk had to turn around and go back to bed. But they just stood there, staring blankly at the door as they cried and worked up the courage to leave.

Before they could, something sharp and harsh came from the blue strand Frisk was still focusing on in their chest. It didn’t last long at all, though, before warmth brushed Frisk’s SOUL and the door swung open.

###

Sans blinked his sockets open and sucked in a breath as he tried to push away images of Frisk’s broken body.

It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

Sure, Sans didn’t get nightmares all that often, but that was all it was.

(A bloody smile on Frisk’s face as Sans leaned against a wall and watched. Life flickering out of their eyes as their SOUL shattered and Sans shrugged and turned around and left.)

(Sickening, twisted, disgusting r e l i e f flooding his SOUL because the anomaly was gone.)

Sans shook his head and grasped his hoodie tightly in his hands as he took a deep breath.

Frisk. Was Frisk okay, were they—

He reached for their bond and then immediately tamped down on his own negative emotions.

No. Frisk wasn’t okay. They were upset and worried, and even without the bond, there was near silent sniffling outside of his door. But they were alive, and Sans just had a nightmare.

It was only a nightmare.

And based on their distress, Frisk probably had one too.

Ignoring the shaking in his hands and the way red flashed behind his sockets when he blinked, Sans pushed threads of concern and reassurance towards them as rolled off his mattress and shuffled over to his door. He swung it open and looked down at Frisk’s tiny form.

“kiddo…?”

Frisk stood in front of him with their blanket hanging over their shoulders and dwarfing them. They clutched their stuffed cat to their chest with a white knuckled grip and tears ran down their blotchy face.

Whatever Sans had dreamed about was already slipping away as he softened his voice and forced the remains of his own distress away so he could help Frisk.

“hey, what’s wrong? come’ere.”

It was second nature to kneel on the floor and open his arms.

And Frisk… flinched.

A sharp jolt of pain shot through Sans’s SOUL at the fear that hung like frost in the air.

It happened so rarely—Frisk didn’t really… flinch from him. Every other monster was fair game, but… not Sans. Not unless he snuck up on them by accident or used blue magic. But here they were and Sans wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was or how to not mess everything up even further.

Sans swallowed thickly and tried to shove down the turmoil in his SOUL as he took a step back.

Crowding them probably wasn’t a great idea. Right?

Sans could read as many books as he wanted. He could try to remember what Dad’s flashbacks looked like and how he was supposed to deal with them. But when things like this happened, Sans was never prepared.

Before Sans could retreat all the way, Frisk sniffled loudly and flung themself forward, their stuffed toy falling to the ground as they latched onto his shirt with both hands. They shook their head viciously and their lips moved silently. They weren’t speaking out loud or signing, but the intent was still there and he heard them loud and clear.

[Don’t go. Don’t go! DON’T GO! DON’T GO!]

Sans hesitated for half of a second, but then he slowly kneeled back down and hugged Frisk. He didn’t think their grip could get any tighter, but somehow it did.

…They were so small in his arms, and Sans wondered if he’d ever held someone this tiny and frail before. When Papyrus was this small, Sans was also a kid. And Papyrus hadn’t been this little since he was four. Maybe younger.

And even then, Papyrus never felt as fragile as Frisk did. Because as lively as Frisk was, they were still so thin. Little more than a skeleton, but so much more breakable since they were human and squishy.

So easy to shatter with one wrong word or false move.

Gently, making sure not to hurt them or startle them, Sans sat on the ground and pulled them into his lap, keeping them swaddled in their blanket. He pushed reassuring intent into the air.

“i’m here, frisky. i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

Not until they told him to go.

He hummed quietly and Frisk burrowed closer to his chest.

He sat there for a while, focusing on the way their heart beat under their skin, so similar and yet so different from the hum of their SOUL. It was slower for one, pushing the red blood that filled them through their body and making all their squishy bits work in a fantastic feat of biological engineering.

It was racing at the moment.

Sans breathed deeply, and Frisk did the same thing against him in response.

It took a while before Frisk’s heart slowed down to a more normal pace. But once it did, Sans reached over to the side to tug their stuffed cat closer, picking it up and passing it to them.

And then slowly, he stood up, Frisk still cradled in his arms. They were slightly calmer than before, but maybe Sans could help them settle more with a warm drink.

“how about we get some cocoa? i know a shortcut.”

Sans took a step forward and walked through the pinch in space-time that took him to the kitchen.

But then—

Fear.

A spike of terror and panic, so much sharper than the one earlier, shot through Frisk and they grabbed onto his shirt so tightly it must have hurt.

They whimpered, and their eyes focused on the front door.

Their voice tore out of them like it was ripped straight from their lungs, hoarse and watery as they stumbled in their rush to get it all out.

“I’ll be good. I’ll be good. Don’t get rid of me—please don’t get rid of me!”

Sans stilled. His SOUL stuttered.

Did Frisk really think…

Heh. Must have been a hell of a nightmare. 

He tightened his grip on them and cradled them closer to his chest. Exhaustion flooded his SOUL in a way he hadn’t expected, but maybe should have. The thick fog of it was so dark and heavy that it threatened to pull him down into the comforting familiarity of apathy.

It would be so much easier if he didn’t care. But he did.

He cared so much and it fucking hurt.

He pushed past that hurt, though, to reassure the tiny, petrified child cradled in his arms.

“hey. hey, frisky, you are good. i’m not getting rid of you. i just thought we could get some cocoa. we don’t have to, though. we can go right back upstairs.”

Frisk’s eyes stayed locked on the front door. A thick, cloying terror came from them and replaced Sans’s marrow with frozen slush. 

He couldn’t afford to mess this up. (Heh. Like he already had. Like he always did.)

Slowly, keeping his own sockets firmly on Frisk, Sans took a slow step back into the kitchen, further away from the door.

The sharp bite of terror in Frisk’s chest loosened its teeth. 

Sans took the chance to push intent their way. He filled the room with magic and sent as much love and comfort as he could through the bond.

I love you. You’re safe. I’m here.

A pause. Another moment, and Sans took a shaky breath in as he didn’t dare to hope that it would work.

But then it seemed to break through to them, and Frisk followed along with his own shuddering breathing. Their fear settled into something less immediately panicked.

Sans held them against his chest and spoke up.

“i’m sorry for scaring you, kiddo. i can be a right numbskull sometimes. …do you think you can do me a favor, though? can you tell me five things you can see?”

Frisk clung onto him tighter, and they moved their lips soundlessly, nothing but air and a choked sound escaping them. Their panic spiked again.

They couldn’t talk at the moment… and judging by the way their fingers twisted thoroughly into Sans’s cotton t-shirt, they couldn’t let go to sign either.

Sans gave them a gentle squeeze. He was careful of the force he used—they were still so thin, practically no cushioning between their skin and their bones, and if he wasn’t careful, he could hurt them. If they weren’t careful, they would hurt themself, even.

Something told Sans that Frisk didn’t care all that much about that.

In a quiet voice he said, “hey, it’s okay. just breathe with me.”

He took exaggerated breaths in and out, his ribcage expanding and shrinking with the motion. After another moment passed, Frisk followed along.

“there we go. i’m not always just full of hot air, you know?”

He winked, even if they still weren’t looking at him.

“you’re doing great, frisky. you don’t have to speak, but do you think you can look around and see five things? pat my chest when you’re done.”

Heavy, overwhelming emotion swirled around them and Sans could feel as Frisk tried to wrangle it back down.

Finally, they tore their gaze away from the door.

Their eyes roamed the kitchen, settling on a few different things.

The walls. The fridge. The microwave. A dishrag that had somehow escaped Papyrus’s last load of laundry.

And then Sans himself. They stared up into his face, gazing intently at the lines of his skull. 

Sans didn’t think they were actually seeing him.

…Or maybe they were seeing a different him—a version of him that left them when they needed him. A version of him that looked at their broken body time and time again and let them bleed. 

Frisk wasn’t seeing the monster he was now. 

Sans prayed to the stars he’d never seen, that they knew he would never leave them again.

(Did it really matter if he wouldn’t do it again though? When he’d already done it. When he’d already ruined things.)

Frisk blinked and sucked in a deep breath, moving to look at his shirt. They reached up and pried their fingers away from him just long enough to pat at his chest.

He hummed.

“that’s good. you’re doing awesome. how about four things you can feel?”

Repetitive. Repetitive was good—he just… needed to bring them back.

Frisk closed their eyes and listened to his voice as he walked them through the rest of the exercise. They weren’t able to sign, but slowly, some of the wound up tension in them loosened and the icy fear in their SOUL was a quieter thing.

Not gone, but… more settled.

Sans gave them another gentle squeeze, and Frisk relaxed further. They did that any time he held them closer, and Sans’s chest seized at the thought.

The tighter he held them, the more reassured they were.

Sans shot a look at the door after making sure Frisk wouldn’t see. And then he looked down at the white knuckled grip they had on his shirt.

(“Don’t get rid of me!”)

…Sans wouldn’t be putting them down anytime soon. Something told him that was the last thing Frisk needed.

Instead, with a light air forced into his voice, he asked, “would you like some cocoa? i find it can come in candy after a bad dream.”

Sans left the question as a yes or no, so Frisk didn’t have to speak. At his joke, they cracked a small smile and nodded into his shirt.

“sounds good, kiddo.”

He walked over to the cabinets in the kitchen.

This would be a lot easier to do if Sans could use gravity magic, but that wasn’t an option. He hoped that eventually he could get Frisk more used to the idea until he could teach them to use it themself. But now wasn’t the time.

So for once in his life, he thanked the fact that they were so tiny, and shifted Frisk over to one arm and propped them on his hip. Frisk was small enough that he could keep them securely wrapped up in his grip while he shuffled through the kitchen to make the cocoa.

He would prefer if they had a bit more weight, but at least their height made it easy to carry them.

When the kettle was on the stove and they were waiting for it to boil, Sans winked down at Frisk.

“hey frisk, what’s the opposite of chocolate?” He only waited half a second before he continued. “choco-early!”

Frisk let out a quiet giggle, and warmth filled Sans’s chest.

It was all worth it. Sure, apathy would be easier. It would hurt less. But then he wouldn’t get to have this.

He shifted Frisk up in his grip and leaned down to press his teeth to their head in the closest thing he could get to a kiss.

Frisk stilled. Tension filled their body like a wound up spring. And then they sagged against him as tears filled their eyes before they blinked them away.

It was the same way they always reacted when Sans or Papyrus showed them affection.

It hurt Sans to think about how long they’d gone without gentleness. It was no wonder they cared so much about Sans and Papyrus, despite everything. If all they’d ever been treated with was scorn, then of course they sank into anything resembling affection. Even if the same people that gave them that affection had hurt them and abandoned them so thoroughly.

A quiet sound came from the kettle, drawing Sans away from his thoughts. Just before it could whistle all the way, Sans pulled it off the stove. He didn’t want to risk waking Papyrus up—he got so little sleep as it was.

Sans shifted Frisk over to his other arm as he stirred the chocolate powder into the hot water. He put the cocoa in a thermos and then tucked it into his inventory for a moment. 

He shifted Frisk to be cradled against his chest again, their stuffed cat precariously close to tumbling to the ground before he readjusted his hold. 

“ya think you’re up for another shortcut upstairs?”

And then he made sure not to repeat his earlier mistake and actually waited for a response before taking his next shortcut.

He’d walk for once if that would help, but that would take them closer to the door. Better not to risk it.

He couldn’t keep messing up.

Frisk nodded against his chest, and Sans took that as his cue to bring them back up to his room. He stepped through the pinch in space-time almost mindlessly. 

And then he bundled Frisk up in a blanket before falling back onto his mattress with an exaggerated oof, taking them with him. They giggled at him, and Sans gently poked them in their side, drawing another round of laughter.

At some point, they both sat back up and leaned against the wall as they stared at the ceiling. It was plain, white, and cracked. Discolored near the corners. Frisk didn’t seem to mind, but for some reason, Sans decided now was the time to be bothered by it.

Even though Sans had tried to clean up his room, it was still a mess.

Not that different from Sans himself.

Sans shoved one of his hands in his jacket pocket, phalanges curling up into a fist. With the other, he passed Frisk the thermos of cocoa from his inventory. Frisk took it and curled up against his side, as small as a puppy. 

Sans had compared them to a puppy before. An abandoned, sad puppy left on the side of the road. When he’d thought that the first time, it had been more of a casual observation. It hadn’t hurt him. Not like this.

He reached up and ran his phalanges through their hair like he always did. 

But they stiffened at the contact, tension shooting up their spine and a fresh jolt of fear spiking through them. Frisk shoved it down as soon as it came. Or at least they tried to hide the way they flinched from his touch.

So small. So scared.

What was Sans doing?

This was a little person. A walking, living, breathing person who relied on him to help them and take care of them and raise them and–

It was so easy to mess it all up. 

Sans was already a mess, even if he tried to be better. Why did he ever think he wouldn’t hurt Frisk more?

What, because he’d done it for Papyrus? He’d sure messed that up royally. Papyrus turned out good despite him, not because of him.

Sans drew his hand back from Frisk’s head, but that wasn’t the right response either, because sadness and longing and… self-hatred shot through Frisk. It tasted bitter and chalky, like ashes on his teeth.

Sans wrapped his arm around their shoulders instead.

“...do you wanna talk about it? your nightmare.”

Frisk firmed their lips and shook their head, clutching their cocoa with both hands.

Sans’s SOUL clenched, and he rubbed his phalange in small circles on their shoulder. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to comfort them or himself. His other hand gripped the fabric of his jacket sleeve.

He offered the only other thing he could think of to comfort them. It had always helped Papyrus. (...And it helped Sans, too.)

“do you want to stay here for the night?”

Frisk went near boneless. Heh. Sans wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t press them to talk, or if it was because of his offer, but either way, they nodded.

They sat like that for a while longer as Frisk drank their cocoa and Sans rubbed their shoulder and moved his other hand up to fiddle with his hoodie strings.

He caught himself almost moving up to pet their hair a few times—he hadn’t realized how much of a habit it had become, or how much of a comfort. But at least half of the comfort was because of the warmth and love that came from Frisk when he did it.

It wouldn’t be very comforting if Frisk felt fear.

Sans was a pretty subtle guy. He prided himself on that—and he made sure Frisk couldn’t feel anything but love from him. But he must have been more obvious than he thought, because Frisk tucked the now empty thermos into their inventory and reached for his hand.

They glanced up at his face, tears still dried on their cheeks from earlier.

But Frisk tugged on his jacket, still holding one of his hands with their own, tiny fingers wrapped around a few of his phalanges. It was a clear request for him to bend over, so Sans did.

Frisk leaned up and paused, warm breath puffing against his cheek. And then they pressed their lips against his skull, a clumsy kiss that was more like a skeleton nuzzle than anything a fleshy monster might give.

Unpracticed intent came with the motion.

Love you.

Frisk drew back from the kiss they’d pressed to his cheek, and then reached up and placed his hand on their head after a moment of hesitation. 

…Trust you.

Sans swallowed and blinked back tears that welled in his own sockets. He stroked their hair.

Once.

Frisk tensed, but they didn’t draw back. After a moment of hesitation, Sans tried again.

Twice.

They swallowed thickly, but leaned into his touch.

Three times.

And like a plug had been pulled, all the tension drained from Frisk. They melted against him, nuzzling their face into his shirt. Exhaustion pulled at their form, their strength sapped now that their adrenaline was gone.

Sans choked back tears and a quiet chuckle.

He never thought he’d love someone as much as he loved Papyrus—so much that his SOUL ached with the feeling. He definitely never thought he would care about the anomaly that he’d hated. Because he had hated the anomaly before it simmered into apathy.

But here he was, and here they were—both suffering from the mistakes Sans made when he hadn’t realized just how much he would grow to love them.

Still nuzzled into his shirt, Frisk let out a small yawn.

Sans shoved away those thoughts for the moment and pulled on a few memories of Dad singing Papyrus back to sleep after a nightmare. Sans wasn’t great at it, but he did the same as he stroked Frisk’s hair. 

They stilled at the tune, but this time, he didn’t think it was a bad thing.

“you are my sunshine, my only sunshine…”

The tension in Frisk melted, replaced by sadness. But it wasn’t a foul, acrid sadness—it was more nostalgic. It felt almost like when Sans remembered Dad—painful, but fond.

He didn’t pry.

“you make me happy when skies are gray.”

Frisk yawned again, smaller this time.

“you’ll never know, dear, how much i love you.”

It didn’t take much longer before Frisk finally drifted back to sleep.

“... please don’t take my sunshine away…”

Chapter Text

Light filtered into Sans’s room, bright from the reflective snow, and it shone right onto his bed. Sans grumbled and tried to roll over. Keyword—tried.

But there was something warm curled up against his chest.

Sans immediately bit back his grumbles and raised a hand to Frisk’s hair. They were so small against him, curled up next to his chest and fingers latching onto one of his ribs through his shirt. One of their boney little knees was jammed into his ribcage awkwardly, but Sans couldn’t find it in himself to care.

His gaze drifted to their face, and the dried tears under their eyes. Carefully, the memory of Frisk flinching from him last night still hot like an iron in his chest, Sans stroked the soft skin of their cheek, as if he could brush away the evidence of their terror that had cleared hours ago. 

Even dead asleep, Frisk turned their face into the gesture.

Sans smiled and curled his phalanges, moving to brush a stray piece of hair behind their weird human-y ear.

…Welp. Sans supposed it was time to hit the books again—the parenting books. And the psychology ones, too.

Sans had a pretty big collection from when he’d scrambled to raise Papyrus into a half-decent monster, a lot of them coming from Dad’s old things that Sans found after he’d passed. All of those books had seen more than their fair share of use over the years.

But after Papyrus decided to take Frisk in, Sans’s collection had only grown. It wasn’t just Sans collecting books now, after all. It was also Papyrus. Parenting books, books on psychology, books on biology or, really, any human health related books they could find.

(After Sans had thoughtfully, uh, relocated some of the research on humans from the Royal Archives to his own home, he’d found a few additional papers stuffed into his overfull mailbox that he hadn’t known about, stained with chip grease.)

(Sans grabbed another bag of dog food when he went out next.)

Frisk let out a quiet sigh in their sleep, and Sans shook his head to push the thoughts away. After a moment of hesitation, he carefully untangled their fingers from his shirt.

It was a bit of a battle with Frisk latching back on every time he freed himself, but with some careful maneuvering, and using Frisk’s stuffed cat as a replacement, Sans slipped away. 

Sans pulled the blanket back over Frisk—they got cold so easily with their fleshy body and thin limbs. They curled up, and Sans stepped away from the mattress, rolling his shoulders. He paused to look at them a moment longer.

(“I’ll be good. I’ll be good. Don’t get rid of me— please don’t get rid of me! ”)

It took Sans a second to stop staring at them, the pit in his chest growing. But then he forced his sockets away, swiped his hoodie from where he’d balled it up to the side in his sleep, and slipped it on. 

He shook his head in a futile attempt to get rid of the exhaustion that ate away at his thoughts and made his way downstairs.

###

When Papyrus woke up the next morning, it had not been a pleasant affair. With Frisk missing from their bed, he’d been… rather startled. 

But he could tell they were close by, still, and so after a bit of investigation, he’d found Frisk asleep in Sans’s room. Another glance around the house revealed leftover dishes from late night hot chocolate adventures that always happened after a nightmare.

Papyrus cleaned them up.

And he tried to pretend like it didn’t hurt that Frisk couldn’t go to him for help. Papyrus knew Frisk had nightmares—as often as he was awake, it was hard not to. When they woke up in a panic, especially after moving into the same room, it became increasingly clear. 

But when they saw him after one of those, it was all too frequent that their fear would spike. So Papyrus stayed away.

Frisk couldn’t go to him, so he was glad that they finally felt comfortable enough to go to Sans. Sans was very good at comforting people after nightmares!

Papyrus knew that firsthand.

He just wished that he could help Frisk, too.

But it was his own fault they feared him, so he shoved those thoughts down and pulled his assignments that he was sorely behind on out. Getting lost in the numbers and the complex design of the puzzles that he had to reverse engineer was a welcome distraction.

The wiring on this one was complex—how could he adapt that to a snowy environment? A humid one? Would he have to change the way it was powered in different environments…?

Papyrus had delved into his projects for much longer than he had realized, because the next thing he knew, a heavy, brother-shaped lump slumped on his back. Out of the corner of his sockets, Papyrus saw Sans fiddle with some sticky notes that he swiped from Papyrus’s supplies. 

Papyrus squawked and flailed as he turned around and shoved Sans, but Sans just went even more limp over Papyrus’s shoulders as quiet chuckles left him. A playful grip of blue magic with a distinct feeling of Sans made it harder for Papyrus to dislodge his very familiar problem. 

“Sans! Get off of me, you bag of bones!”

“eheheh. what’s the magic word?”

“SANS! I will not put up with your tomfoolery!”

Papyrus jammed a hand against Sans’s ribs, the angle awkward, but almost effective. Sans was a self-proclaimed master at all things being a menace, though, and he just readjusted.

“that’s not it. come on, you got this.”

Sans stayed wrapped around Papyrus like the world’s most skeleton-shaped-barnacle at Papyrus’s following attempts to pry him off. It was only when Papyrus realized Sans wasn’t going anywhere that he bit out his next words. It truly pained him to sink this low.

“Sans. Will you. Please. Get off of me.”

Sans shrugged and let go, slouching down against the table into another chair. He then slid the pilfered sticky note he’d been messing with in front of Papyrus… freshly folded into an origami version of a very annoying, small, white, canine menace.

“eh, the word was ‘tacos,’ but i guess that works, too.”

The only thing that saved Sans from getting tackled to the ground were the countless books piled in front of Papyrus in a precarious stack, something multiple hours in the making. Sans poked one, and the whole tower swayed ominously before it settled.

“it’s the weekend. you’re not gonna take a break from course work?”

Papyrus huffed and tilted his head back to look at Sans down his nasal ridge. He brushed off his notebook huffily. (And carefully slid his brother’s origami creation into his bag to join the rest of his collection. Making very sure Sans didn’t see him.)

“Of course not! Not everyone can afford to be lazy, you know!”

And then Papyrus twirled his pen and glanced off to the side as sweat beaded on his skull. 

“And. Well. I need to bring all my work in to New Home on Monday and pick up my next assignments. I have found myself… running a bit behind since we’ve taken in Frisk.” 

Papyrus shoved away any unpleasantness of being so behind on his schooling and perked back up. He stared down at his work with renewed vigor.

“But never mind that! This work is nothing for me, The Great Scholar Papyrus!”

Papyrus glanced back to see Sans’s smile twitch, subtle enough that no one else would have picked up on it. A twinge of guilt that wasn’t Papyrus’s own was bitter in the air, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, and Sans’s grin turned just as easy and lazy as it always was.

“i don’t want you to get behind on your studies, pap… you know, i’ve been thinkin’ about quitting that sentry job, anyway. too much work for a lazybones like me.”

“Don’t you dare!” Papyrus snapped, his own guilt swirling in his chest. He muted it, but he didn’t quiet his next words.

“I let myself get distracted. It won’t happen again! You already take care of Frisk half the time, I can manage. It is not a burden, I enjoy spending time with them. If I had planned on being a Royal Guard and completing my schooling, then I can certainly take care of a child!” 

Sans shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his head off to the side as Papyrus frowned and clutched the pen in his hand.

...Should Papyrus step back? For Frisk's sake? But it was a terrible option to have Sans quit a job that gave him a purpose just because he was worried about Papyrus.

Papyrus let out a sigh. “At the very least, don’t quit because of me. Not again.”

Sans raised his hands in defeat. “alright. i get it. just… keep it in mind, okay? might quit anyway. i‘m a pretty terrible sentry, all things considered. i mean, what kinda sentry goes and adopts a human?”

Papyrus glared, and Sans backed down. 

“okay, okay. got it. topic’s dropped.”

...Sans had a point, though. Perhaps Papyrus was spending too much time with Frisk. Maybe he'd been taking on more than he deserved.

But there was an option that would allow Frisk time away from Papyrus without Sans quitting.

Frisk would probably benefit a lot from going to school with the other kids, wouldn’t they? Especially now that it was safer.

Sans dragged Papyrus away from his thoughts. 

“you had breakfast yet?”

Papyrus turned back to his work and didn’t meet Sans’s gaze. The lack of response was answer enough, and Sans took that as his cue.

“‘kay. i’m gonna go make something for all of us to eat. frisk’ll probably be awake by the time i’m done.”

And then Sans paused.

“hey. actually, i was wonderin’... would you want me to teach you a couple things in the kitchen? i’m not as fiery at cooking as undyne, but i can still probably drop a few tips. you’ve been at your work for a while now. maybe giving it a rest for a second isn’t a bad idea.”

Papyrus stilled and looked at the pen in his hand before putting it off to the side. Sans wasn’t wrong—Papyrus could do with a break. And perhaps Papyrus could also do with learning a few more recipes than just inedible spaghetti.

He got up and smiled towards Sans.

“I think you’ll find my skills are just too hot for our kitchen to handle!”

Time to learn how to make a few more inedible recipes. At least Frisk would appreciate it. 

###

It’d been a while. But… Undyne couldn’t get Frisk’s sweater out of her mind. Blue and purple. Two stripes.

And Frisk had worn it in almost every picture that Papyrus had shown her.

Like Sans wore his jacket, and like Papyrus wore his scarf. Or like Undyne wore her eyepatch, carefully stitched together by her mother before she’d fallen down.

Alphys had her glasses. Asgore had a bracelet that most monsters didn’t notice under his fur.

And Frisk had their sweater.

Maybe it wasn’t their item. Frisk wasn’t exactly the most well versed in magic or intent or any of that crap. So maybe humans didn’t have their items that were soaked in magic to the point where it felt like they were part of them.

But even if it wasn’t. Even if they didn’t. 

That sweater was still important to them. 

Which was why Undyne was doing something about it!

“U-um, are you sure that’s the right color thread?”

Undyne drew back with a hiss as she accidentally pricked herself with a needle. Then she narrowed her eye and threw her hands up in the air, letting the fabric in them fall back to her lap.

“UGH! You’re right! How do people DO this?!”

Or she was trying to do something about it, at least.

Alphys let out the world’s cutest giggle, and Undyne forced down her blush. Which didn’t work as well as she wanted when Alphys passed her the proper colored thread and their hands brushed. Heat prickled Undyne’s scales, and she looked back to her project instead of the most amazing monster ever sitting right next to her.

And then Undyne frowned again when she focused on what she was working on.

Alphys asked, “…This is, um… why are you doing this again? You don’t normally like domestic projects like this, I thought…?”

Something in Alphys’s voice lilted oddly, but Undyne didn’t pay it any mind. Instead, she glared down at the fabric in her hands, and did her best to re-thread her needle with the new color. She cleared her throat and didn’t meet Alphys’s gaze.

“…Papyrus’s kid. They, uh, had a sweater like this, and I think it may have been their item. It’s… gone now.”

Alphys wasn’t as surprised as Undyne thought she might be, but her hands raised to her glasses in sympathy. 

The fabric of Undyne’s eyepatch brushed against her scales, and Undyne wondered what it would be like to lose it—

Not good. It wouldn’t be good at all.

Alphys focused back on the sleeve in her hand—one of the parts she was helping Undyne sew up, because she was the best—and asked Undyne her next question.

“So you’re making them a new one? Or, uh, f-fixing an old one, I guess.” She giggled, the sound high-pitched and nervous. Alphys was always flighty and nervous. But because it was her, she made it work—she was the cutest.

Stars, Undyne was so fucking gay.

Undyne shoved those thoughts back and responded.

“Yeah, I was kinda the one that destroyed their last one.” Undyne laughed and scratched the back of her neck, heat rising to her face, but this time it was more from shame than because of how close she was to Alphys.

(Well, mostly at least.)

Undyne focused on patching up the frayed edges of the sweater. She’d been damned lucky to find something similar to Frisk's old sweater in the dump. The stripes were a bit thinner, and it was a few sizes bigger than the last one, but mostly, it was identical. 

It wasn’t the same. Undyne couldn’t do that. The memories, the magic and comfort would be gone. But at least this would be a good base to build up something new for them.

Undyne did her best to fix up a few runs in the fabric, and Alphys did the same next to her. Undyne was really lucky that Alphys knew how to mend better than Undyne did, and that she was willing to help Undyne.

They worked without talking for a bit, listening to a bouncy tune in the same language that many of Alphys’s history tapes were in. And then Alphys broke the silence.

“It’s, um, really great of you to try to get them something similar. H-How’s getting to know them going, by the way?”

“Could be better, could be worse! Papyrus is still kind of antsy, and Sans hovers like crazy! Man, I get what Papyrus means when he used to say Sans was overprotective now. He’s not any better, though—neither of them leave us alone together. …Not that I can blame ‘em.”

Undyne laughed and scratched the back of her neck again before she continued.

“But I actually get to see Papyrus again, and they let me hang out with the kiddo sometimes. I’m getting better at Sign, too! Soon I’ll be able to have a whole conversation with the kid! …Well soonish.”

Alphys gasped and dropped the sleeve she was working on, her hands coming up to cover her mouth as her eyes sparkled.

“You’re learning Sign? OhmyGOSH! If you need help, I can also teach you! That’s so amazing! You’re the best and the coolest and—oh, I’m sure Frisk loves that!”

Undyne shrugged, heat rushing to her cheeks again as she chuckled.

“Heh heh well, couldn’t have a nibling and not be able to talk to ‘em! …Wait.”

Undyne narrowed her eye.

“How’d you know Frisk’s name? I don’t think I said it?”

Alphys scrambled to pick the sleeve back up, sweat dripping down her scales in a nervous display that was pretty much permanent for the lizard. 

“Y-you must have–you must have mentioned it in conversation earlier! W-when you, um, told me about the whole situation!”

“Yeah, I must have!”

That would make sense. Because Undyne ended up telling Alphys all about the situation. Frisk’s human-ness was a secret, but Alphys was the Royal Scientist and Undyne kinda had to tell her the hunt was off. Undyne couldn’t tell Asgore, or… really, anyone else, but she didn’t want Alphys thinking the human still had to die, or that she had to keep an eye out for them anymore.

It was a tricky situation, but Undyne trusted Alphys. And her trust wasn’t misplaced! Because Alphys had let out a sigh of relief and promised that she could keep a secret, and that the human was safe. She seemed a little too eager to hear all about the skeleton family, though, mumbling under her breath the whole time about “fanfiction come true” and “found family tropes” or something. 

Alphys let out a small, tittering laugh and turned around to put her needle away. 

“Th-this part is done! Are you just about done, too? We can wash it and stick it outside to, um, dry, and while that happens, maybe we can, uh, try to recreate that one move from Mew Mew Kissy Cutie again? With the sword?”

Undyne hopped to her feet, brandishing the sweater and waving it through the air as she laughed. It was done! And it looked GREAT! Man, Alphys was the BEST! With this, maybe Frisk could have something at least similar to their sweater back!

“That sounds AWESOME! Come on, then, let’s go!”

Undyne reached down and yanked Alphys to her own feet, sending her glasses askew. Alphys just laughed and turned red as she fixed them.

One freshly scrubbed sweater hung up to dry later, and Undyne and Alphys were in the middle of the lab floor. Sweat beaded on Undyne’s face as she did her best to direct magic towards the sword in her hands. If humans could make it glow, so could she!

Alphys mumbled under her breath as she jotted notes down in a notebook.

“M-maybe we need to change the type of magic we put into it? Or maybe we could try to use bullet magic but shape it…?”

Before she could give Undyne another pointer, the doors to the lab slammed open with a raucous magic playing the most annoying tune ever, and Undyne groaned at the mechanical voice that filled the room.

“ALPHYS, DARLING! Are you ready for my touch-ups? Oh, and tell me how that body is coming, will you? You know…”

Mettaton trailed off as he saw Undyne. She rolled her shoulders and slung the sword off to the side, baring her teeth at him in a too wide grin. She turned to Alphys.

Undyne asked, “Had some other plans? Ah well, I bet the sweater’s just about dry now, anyway!”

Alphys clicked her claws together and shot a look at Mettaton. “Y-you weren’t supposed to be here for another hour!”

Mettaton’s voice was sly when he responded. “Ohohohoho, my DEAR! If you wanted some more alone time with our dear captain—”

Alphys yelped and slammed her hands on Mettaton’s speaker, trying to stifle his voice, with a blush spreading on her face. It did little good, but Mettaton quieted down anyway when Alphys rushed to speak over him.

“O-OH YES! You were so right earlier! We had to go over the plans for the battery and won’t-you-please-go-upstairs-now?!” Her words rushed together and she turned to Undyne again.

“I-It’s probably best for you to go! I-I can take it from here it-was-great-seeing-you-bye!”

Undyne laughed, her own face hot as she turned to duck out the front door into the blistering heat. She gave one last wave to Alphys.

“Yeah, yeah! I got it. See you around, Alphys, and thanks again for all your help!”

Undyne just barely caught Mettaton’s voice before the door slid shut. The robot might not have eyebrows, but the intent of waggling brows was strong behind his words.

“Oooooh, help~? Alphys! You should ha–”

His voice cut off with the door and Undyne turned to snag the sweater that Alphys had hung up off to the side.

Undyne had a delivery to make!

Chapter Text

“Hello, Undyne! What brings you to humble my house at this hour?”

Papyrus’s voice echoed through the house loudly, and Frisk paused on the upper landing as they strained to hear what was happening.

Undyne barked out a laugh. “Since when do you care about the hour?”

There was silence for a second and Frisk cocked their head to the side.

*Sometimes, silence speaks a thousand words. Or something like that, at least.

Undyne broke the quiet.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. But it’s not that late yet! Not even dinner yet! And, uh, I… brought something for the kid.”

Papyrus squealed, “OOH! Show me, show me!”

There was another pause and a scramble, and Frisk tried their best to peek down the stairs to see if they could spot what Undyne must have been holding, to no luck.

When Papyrus spoke up next, his voice was quieter with an emotion Frisk couldn’t place.

*His voice is solemn.

It was more like when he talked to Frisk after everything went to heck, and sometimes Sans, too. Papyrus didn’t really use that tone with other people very much—Frisk hadn’t even realized he was anything other than completely silly for months because of it. 

He said, “Ah. I see.”

“Yeah, so, uh… Can I give it to them?”

It took Papyrus another long moment to respond, and Frisk wondered what Undyne brought to have him so off balance. It was weird.

“...Yes. You may. And… Thank you, Undyne.”

Papyrus’s voice lightened, and he raised his voice back up to a normal pitch. Frisk could practically feel his raised brow bone.

“You can come downstairs now, Frisk! Undyne has something for you!”

Heat rose to Frisk’s cheeks at being so easily spotted, but they shoved it away and climbed downstairs, waving cheerfully at both Papyrus and Undyne. Undyne waited by the door as she darted her gaze around the room and hid something behind her back. Papyrus took the chance to walk back towards the table where he’d laid out all of his grown-up homework, giving Undyne and Frisk a bit of privacy. (Not a whole lot, though.)

Undyne cleared her throat.

“So, uh, nice weather we’re having?”

Frisk leaned over to look out the window… And it was lightly snowing, the same as it always was, except for the scheduled storms. They nodded and shot Undyne a thumbs up, anyway, because they liked the snow a lot more now that there was a warm house for them to come back to. 

She laughed.

“Okay, so I, er… Well, that is to say… Aw, come ON! Why is this so hard?!”

Even though Frisk didn’t mean to, they took a small step back at Undyne’s raised voice. But there was no familiar crackle of magic or tug of an Encounter, so their shoulders dropped back to normal after a moment.

Undyne sighed and brought her hands in front of her, a heart wrenchingly familiar shade of blue and purple clasped in them. Frisk’s breath caught in their throat and their heart hammered in their chest as Undyne sank down to balance on the balls of her feet and shoved the sweater towards Frisk, much closer to their eye level.

Her voice was rough, and it wasn’t gentle, but her words were kind.

“Here. I noticed you used to wear something like this all the time, and I kinda destroyed yours. I know it’s not exactly the same, but I thought you might—”

Frisk didn’t let Undyne finish her sentence. They tackled her into a hug, their arms wrapped tight around her waist. She rocked back a bit, but then carefully set the sweater down on the ground and hugged Frisk back.

It was awkward, and the corded muscles in her arms tensed and untensed as she held them way looser than Frisk expected–she was barely touching them. Despite that, Frisk stilled when her hand landed on their head. (It was really close to their neck, and with Undyne this close, it would be so, so easy for her to kill them. But, at least like this, it would be quick if she did.)

Frisk squeezed her again for good measure, doing their best to shove their fear down, before drawing back and beaming up at her.

It looked almost the same. It even felt the same, and Frisk bounced on their feet and rubbed their face into the soft material.

Frisk signed, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” and then, with both Papyrus and Undyne’s laughter bouncing around the house, they plopped to the floor and pulled the sweater on, sinking into the cozy fabric and rolling around in it. 

Undyne reached out a clawed hand and ruffled Frisk’s hair, and Frisk barely even flinched as she chuckled out her response.

“Don’t mention it! I found it in the dump and Alphys helped me patch it back up. …And, uh, it was the least I could do.”

Frisk nuzzled into the collar of their new turtleneck. It smelled like flowers and a bit like the bitter air of Hotland.

"Alphys! You talk about her lots. Can I meet her? I have to say thanks to her, too!”

It was quiet for a second as Undyne looked over at Papyrus. Frisk looked over, too, and Papyrus gave a small nod. Undyne’s grin widened.

“Yeah, yeah, kiddo. She’d love to meet you. Maybe next week? You’re gonna be busy here soon, aren’t ya?”

Frisk’s stomach lurched at the reminder, but despite that, nothing could bring them down! Not even… school.

No. Undyne just gave Frisk one of the most thoughtful gifts ever, and Frisk was finally going to meet the person Undyne totally had a crush on, and everything would be fine! School would be fine. 

###

Frisk stood in front of their backpack as Papyrus hovered, his hands fluttering around them as he worried. And maybe it wasn’t very good of Frisk to be pleased by it, but his anxious checking filled Frisk’s belly and chest with warmth. Papyrus wouldn’t do that unless he cared.

Papyrus’s voice was high-pitched when he asked, “And you have everything you need?”

Frisk nodded. Despite that, Papyrus poked through the bag as he talked, ensuring everything was in its place. “Pencils, notebook, extra hat, extra gloves, snack, emergency whoopee cushion, coat… WAIT. EMERGENCY WHOOPEE— SANS!!!”

Papyrus stomped his foot and threw the whoopee cushion at Sans, where the shorter skeleton was napping on the couch. Frisk had to muffle their laughter as Sans peered an eye socket open to look at Papyrus.

“yeah?”

Papyrus put his hands on his hips as he tapped his foot and scolded Sans. “DO NOT GIVE FRISK AN EMERGENCY WHOOPEE CUSHION FOR SCHOOL! THAT IS COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE OF YOU!”

“ok.”

Papyrus gestured wildly, almost hitting Sans in the face. “THIS IS ENTIRELY UNBEFITTING BEHAVIOR FOR A SKELETON SUCH AS YOURSELF! YOU MUST HOLD YOURSELF TO HIGHER STANDARDS!”

“yep.”

When Papyrus glanced away, Sans shot Frisk a wink and slid the whoopee cushion back into their bag. Frisk couldn’t stop their laughter from escaping, giggling uncontrollably as Papyrus continued scolding Sans.

“FART JOKES ARE SUCH LOW-BROW HUMOR!”

Sans nodded solemnly. “you’re totally right, bro.”

“HONESTLY, SANS! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! CLEARLY THE EMERGENCY GLITTER IS A BETTER OPTION!”

Papyrus spun back toward Frisk and placed a container labeled ‘GLITTER—EMERGENCY USE ONLY!’ in their hand, and Frisk laughed even harder as they put it carefully in their backpack next to the whoopee cushion.

*You gently pet the glitter. It will be put to good use.

Sans sat up and patted Papyrus on the back while Frisk dragged their bag to sit next to the door. “hey, frisk is totally gonna school the other kids. try not to worry so much.”

Papyrus resumed his pacing.

“I know! I know. It’s just. What if something happens?”

Frisk straightened their shoulders when Papyrus focused his gaze on them again. “Frisk! What do you do if a monster tries to FIGHT you?”

Frisk answered right away. "Make friends!"

Papyrus’s face twitched in a funny way. “I would prefer if you would flee! And call me!”

Frisk tilted their head to the side, their brows furrowed. "But how would I make friends, then?”

“That’s not—I don’t—”

Frisk shifted from foot to foot as Papyrus fumbled over his words. After a moment, he pieced together a response.

“...Please do not! Unless you absolutely-positutely have to, please flee first and ask questions later! Frisk, no one should hurt you. If they do, you should leave the situation!”

Frisk’s good humor drained a little, and they tapped at their thigh. If Frisk ran away, they never would have made any friends. And some monsters wouldn’t let Frisk flee. (Papyrus had been one of those monsters.)

They weren’t sure what to tell Papyrus, so they just shrugged. He stared at them for a long moment, before sighing real quiet. He didn’t even say “sigh” when he did it. Finally, he asked them another question.

“… Well, what should you do if you hear King Asgore is coming to visit?”

Frisk was slower to answer this time. "…Make friends?”

Both Papyrus and Sans flinched, and Frisk wished they knew why what they said was so wrong. Frisk never ever would have even lived with Sans and Papyrus if they didn’t do that. Undyne wouldn’t be their friend. Papyrus wouldn’t be their friend.

Nobody in Snowdin or Waterfall would love Frisk if Frisk didn’t love them first. What did a few bruises and broken bones matter when Frisk would heal? 

Why did it matter if they died when they could just come back?

Papyrus’s voice was high-pitched when he responded. “Please don’t! Come home immediately and then we can make friends together! While I’m sure that he will let you go if you ask, I would prefer it if you would come get me!”

Slowly, Frisk nodded their head, and the tension drained from Sans and Papyrus’s spines. If it would make Sans and Papyrus happy, Frisk could do that. Frisk would do anything if it made their family smile. 

With that worry somewhat taken care of, Papyrus walked back over towards Frisk’s bag to check it for the fifth time when Sans interrupted him.

“they’re gonna be okay, papyrus. they’ll only be over at the librarby for school, and then they’re gonna come right back in the afternoon.”

“But—“

Sans squeezed a rubber chicken.

“Sans, I—“

He squeezed it again and Frisk giggled.

“Really, this is very seri—“

Somehow, the sound of the chicken seemed to last even after it had run out of air.

“I GET IT!”

The rubber chicken disappeared, and Sans shoved his hands into his pockets. A mischievous grin settled on his face. “good ‘cuz you were sounding a bit like—“

“DON’T YOU DARE—“

“—a mother hen.”

A wordless scream left Papyrus’s mouth, and Frisk laughed so hard their stomach hurt.

###

“—flares are also sites where particles—electrons, protons, and heavier particles—are accelerated.”

Sans trailed off when he got to the last page of the science journal he was reading aloud. Curled up against Papyrus’s side at the top of the bed, Frisk had drifted off to sleep. Papyrus was still wide awake, but Papyrus hadn’t fallen asleep to a bedtime story since he was a kid.

Sans carefully closed the book and leaned back against the wall at the bottom of Papyrus’s bed. A soft grin crossed his face when Papyrus gently stood up, disentangled himself and Frisk from the blanket nest they’d made together, and carried Frisk over to their own bed. 

He tucked Frisk in, smoothing down their hair before pressing a kiss to their forehead. After a moment where he just watched them, he pulled back and closed the curtain that separated their half of the room. 

It was still weird seeing Papyrus as an adult. So… parental. But while Sans kind of missed when Papyrus was a kid, the way he acted with Frisk filled Sans with a rush of pride and love so strong it was overwhelming. Papyrus had grown up so well.

But with the parental role Papyrus had taken on with Frisk, came the worry of raising a child. (And that worry was so, so much worse with a traumatized little human.)

Papyrus slipped back to his half of the room, sitting on the bed next to Sans, but not getting under the covers. His face was pinched, and he wasn’t muting the low hum of anxiety that came from his SOUL. Sans did his best to send reassurance over the bond, filling the room with a layer of intent and magic that would hopefully comfort Papyrus.

“...hey, pap. it’ll be okay. it’s just school. no other kid in snowdin is as cooped up as frisk, and the other parents have been harping on us to bring frisk out more. snowdin’s different from new home, but it’s nice here, ya know? it takes a village to raise a child. we gotta let frisk out more. like the other kids.”

Papyrus’s voice was just as hushed as Sans’s when he responded, low enough that he wouldn’t disturb Frisk’s rest.

“Frisk isn’t ‘any other kid.’ You and I both know that, Sans.”

Sans hummed, guilt and pain tugging on his SOUL—his own and Papyrus’s.

“...yeah. i do.”

Because no other kid in Snowdin had to worry about going outside and being murdered in the middle of the day by one of their neighbors or a visitor from out of town. Other kids didn’t come home from adventures with broken bones, and bruises and cuts from being beaten bloody by adults.

Other kids were people in the eyes of the law. 

And Frisk had no rights or protections. Nothing to save them from a bloody, miserable death except for the well wishes of those around them. Well wishes they didn’t always have. Well wishes that many monsters still didn’t have for them, outside of Snowdin and Waterfall.

(Sans wondered how many times the residents of Snowdin had killed Frisk before Frisk won them over. And he didn’t have to wonder about the countless scars painted on their skin by them. He’d seen them, after all.)

“...but just cuz they’re different doesn’t mean we can stop them from going out. snowdin’s as safe for ‘em as it’s gonna get and now undyne’s not gonna be a problem, too, which makes them even safer. if we keep them at home all the time… that’s no way to grow up.”

Papyrus furrowed his brow bones and sighed, twisting his blanket into his hands. He paused, and both he and Sans checked to make sure Frisk was still asleep. 

“I know. I know. But I’m still going to be worried. There’s a lot to worry about! I just wish… Sometimes I wish they weren’t human.”

Papyrus’s voice dropped to a barely audible whisper as he breathed his last remark. Sans’s smile twitched, and Papyrus rushed to clarify.

“It’s not that them being human is a problem! They are wonderful! But I wish they didn’t have to go through what they do down here. If they were a monster, they’d be so much safer and happier and no one would have hurt them. … I wouldn’t have hurt them.”

He sighed.

“...That’s not fair, though. Nobody should hurt them because they’re human. Frisk shouldn’t have to be something else just to be treated like a person. Sans, I hate this. Why is it like this? Why can’t we send Frisk to something as simple as school without worrying that someone is going to kill them?!”

Papyrus’s voice pitched up at the end and he and Sans froze, hoping they didn’t wake up Frisk. But the bond was still silent with sleep, and they relaxed when Frisk didn’t stir. 

After a moment, Sans pulled Papyrus against his side in a half hug.

It was like when Papyrus was a toddler, and he asked why they were so hungry. When he was a kid, and he asked why adults were so mean. When he was preteen, and he came home from school and asked why his classmates made fun of him and cast him out. When he was a teen and he didn’t know exactly what he was missing, but he knew he didn’t have a parent anymore.

When he looked up at Sans, and asked, “Why?”

And every time, all Sans could ever do was hug him and say, “i know it’s not fair. i’m sorry.”

“...it’s not fair. but we’re doing our best, yeah? and we gotta trust everyone in town. come down to grillby’s more often—you’ll hear all about it. everyone loves frisk, just like we do. we can’t keep them home. the underground is already small, and they’re already confined to just snowdin and waterfall—we can’t trap them in this house, too.”

But Sans understood. Stars, he understood so much it hurt.  

It was just a shitty situation, all around. But he and Papyrus had to give Frisk freedom. Snowdin was a small community–kids rarely had dinner at their own homes, being shuffled around from family to family every night. It was safe. Everyone raised everyone, and they had already accepted Frisk as their own. 

The scare with MK, and Frisk going over to Undyne’s instead of their friend’s house was still a raw terror, but Sans and Papyrus had to trust in the monsters around them. They hurt Frisk before, but so did Sans and Papyrus. 

Papyrus buried his face in Sans’s shoulder.

“You’re right. They’re going to go to school tomorrow and it’s going to be all okay! The most okay!”

Sans grinned.

“sure is. so stop being such a mother hen or i’m gonna have to get the chicken out again.”

Papyrus immediately drew back to glare at Sans, and it was only because Frisk was asleep in the room that he spared Sans from an ear piercing lecture.

“Don’t you dare!”

Sans laughed and tried to ignore his own swirling anxiety. And maybe that was why Papyrus spoke up again a moment later, in a reassurance that wasn’t aimed at himself this time.

“It’s going to be fine. We are right here if something goes wrong! And nothing will go wrong. So everything will be the finest fine of all the fines!”

Sans’s smile was a bit more genuine as he bonked his skull against Papyrus’s.

“sure will be. thanks, papyrus. you’re the coolest.”

“Nyeh heh heh! I sure am! And so are you!”

###

The cold air of Snowdin bit at Frisk’s cheeks as they walked through town, waving at everyone they passed, and stopping occasionally to chat or help someone if they needed something. Frisk hadn’t been out since the whole situation with befriending Undyne. Not that Sans or Papyrus stopped Frisk! But Papyrus got really scared and quiet when Frisk went near the door, so they just… didn’t.

Spotting Violet, the nice shopkeeper bunny, struggling with a tower of boxes, Frisk sprinted over and caught one just before it clattered to the ground. Violet peered over her full arms and Frisk could make out a smile.

“Well, I’ll be! If it isn’t Frisk! Been a while since you’ve been out and about! Thank you, hunny.”

Frisk nodded and readjusted their hold on the box to get a better hold, gesturing for her to go.

“Well, if you aren’t just the sweetest darn thing!”

Violet led Frisk through town, passing by the library on their way. It was still empty, so Frisk had time to spare before they had to be there. Violet hustled over to the door to her shop, holding it open with her foot, and Frisk followed.

“You can place that box down over here. Thanks again! You’re a real lifesaver!”

Frisk grinned as Violet placed her own boxes down and ruffled their hair.

“It’s good to see you out! And, if I heard right, you’ll be out a lot more now, huh? Starting school with the rest of the kids? You know, my cousin Greeny teaches class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You’ve met her, right?”

She waited for Frisk to nod before she continued.

“She sure can talk a lot, but she’s good at what she does! I think you’re gonna like it there. ‘Bout time your brothers sent ya to study with the rest of the kids! Speaking of, you should be on your way now. Come on over after school and I’ll give you a fresh cinnamon bunny once they’re made, as thanks for your help.”

Frisk grinned as she gently swatted them towards the door, waving as they slipped back out into the cold.

And because they had time, Frisk stopped and listened to everyone they saw on their way to the library.

Bunny, the silly monster that always was dizzy and flirted with Sans and Grillby, leaned up against a wall not far from the shop. When Frisk stopped in front of her, she smiled widely.

“Frisk! How have you been?”

She wasn’t so dizzy or drunk today since it was still morning, and Frisk grinned and shot her two thumbs up.

“That’s great! Things haven’t been the same without you and Sansy down at Grillby’s! It’s booooring without you! Same old, same old. You’ve gotta come back more… aaand you should totally give me Sans’s number, eh?”

Frisk just raised a brow, and she laughed.

“I’m juuust kidding! …Unless?”

Frisk didn’t even react, and she laughed harder.

“Hey! ‘S not my fault there’s not enough hot guys here! But for real, you and Sans should come up to Grillby’s more. And drag your other brother up, too. You guys are always a riot.”

Frisk smiled and nodded, and she grinned back.

“Okay, enough talking! I hear you have places to be! Go on, you don’t wanna be late for your first day!”

Frisk giggled and waved as they turned around to dart back to the library.

Frisk stopped a couple more times on their way over to talk to Nacarat and Scarf Mouse, but before long, they were in front of their destination. A churning that didn’t feel so great filled Frisk’s stomach.

But they could do this!

*The doors to education loom in front of you… What will you learn? The world is your oyster!

Frisk cracked a grin and steeled their shoulders. They opened the doors to the library and stepped into the warm air. 

From their seats at the table, MK and Cinnamon greeted Frisk with hands (and tail, in MK’s case) waving so hard Frisk thought they might fall off. They yelped Frisk’s name and gestured to an empty chair in between them.

MK playfully bumped Frisk’s shoulder as they approached. “Frisk! Man, it’s so cool that you’re going to school with us now! This is gonna be EPIC!”

Cinnamon said, “I’m so glad you’re here! You’re gonna love this! I think Mr. Ruff is teaching us today.”

Just then, the doors opened back up and a grizzled old wolf monster stepped in. A grin crossed his face when he spotted Frisk. 

"Rrrruff! Frisk! I’m glad you could join us! It’s about darn time. How long have you been in Snowdin now? Months at least!”

Frisk shrugged and walked up to Mr. Ruff.

*You pet the wolf. After all, what is a wolf but a danger dog?

*Mr. Ruff is happy.

After a few more pets, Mr. Ruff shooed Frisk back to their seat. “Okay, okay, ruff. That’s enough of that. We’re still waiting on Periwinkle, RK, and the slime kids, but then we can get started. We’re working on our times tables today, kiddos. Ruff!"

A small white rabbit with a tint of blue in his fur tumbled into the room. “I’m heeeere! Wait for me—!” His gaze landed on Frisk and a grin spread across his face. “Frisk! Mama didn’t tell me you were starting school!”

Before Frisk could greet him, Rabbit Kid strolled into the library. “Wait up Peri. We aren’t late yet.” Her gaze landed on Frisk and she waved in greeting. “Hi, Frisk! I didn’t know you would be here!”

Slim and Slom, the slime kids, slid in before the door could shut. They nudged each other when they spotted Frisk. 

“Look! It’s Frisk!”

Frisk sensed a bit of a pattern.

A loud bark echoed through the room, silencing the ruckus.

“Okay, quite down!” Mr. Ruff shooed the kids over to the table to sit. “I see you’ve all noticed, but Frisk will be joining us for lessons now. I trust I don’t have to tell you to be nice?”

His tail thumped when the room erupted in cheers.

And this… this wasn’t so bad. Frisk had been really nervous about starting, worried about what it would be like, considering they had only gone to school for about a year and a half before they left. But Frisk liked this so far! They got to spend time with their friends and they even got to go home for lunch or with a friend if they wanted! It was just a new adventure.

The morning flew by in a blur, the rowdy kids barely focusing on their lessons with how excited they were. Lunch hour was right around the corner, and Mr. Ruff finally gave up and just had the kids solve some problems before they could go.

And then Frisk saw the perfect opportunity to make Sans proud when MK walked up to the board to solve a problem. Their grin widened as MK finished, walked back and sat down.

Pbbbbbbbbbfffftttt.

The silence was deafening as the whole classroom stared at MK for a moment, before turning to face Frisk. Frisk shrugged, and put the most innocent expression they could muster on their face.

"Watch out, MK! Sometimes weirdos put whoopee cushions on the seats.”

“Ugh! Frisk!”

MK didn’t sound very upset, more like they were trying really hard not to laugh. 

Mr. Ruff dragged a hand down his face, a slight whine leaving him.

“Shoulda known. ‘Course they would. Their older brother is Sans after all.”

He grumbled for a moment more before gathering up his supplies.

“Okay cubs. I can see we aren’t going to get any work done today. If I let you go early for the day, will you come back tomorrow and stay focused for Ms. Green?”

Frisk rapidly nodded, and around them everyone else cheered as they all hastily agreed before gathering up their items and running to the door. 

And this was most definitely a good day. It got even better when a frozen ball of crumbling snow lobbed past Frisk’s ear and hit Periwinkle square in the back. Frisk turned around, and MK stood behind them, building up a pile of snowballs with their tail.

Oh, they. Were. On.

Frisk let out a wordless battle cry as they turned around and tackled MK.

###

Frisk’s cheeks were red and flushed from the cold as they giggled. They raised their hand and waved goodbye to MK, the lizard having been one of the last ones to go home after their impromptu snowball fight.

Frisk’s feet crunched through the snow as they made their way slightly further from town, back towards the ruins. Because Frisk got out early from school, that meant they still had some time before Sans and Papyrus expected them to be home! 

They bounced on the balls of their feet, and their eyes darted back and forth as they tried to stay alert. It had been a while since they had to FIGHT someone in Snowdin, but it was best to be safe.

The familiar melody of Snowdin Forest surrounded them comfortingly as they got to their destination, and they gave a quick glance around to make sure Sans wasn’t lurking nearby. Somehow, he always seemed to show up when Frisk wasn’t expecting him.

*You set your bag against a tree, making sure it’s protected from the harsh winds.

After ensuring their belongings were safe, Frisk spun around to their target: the ball game.

They ran forward and tried to make a goal, determination to succeed filling them when they missed. They needed to save up money, after all.

Frisk had more now than they ever had before—Sans and Papyrus gave them food and clothes before they could ask. Frisk even had a stuffed animal and soft blankets, pillows and a proper bed. They had their crochet stuff, and Papyrus shared his books and puzzles and crafts.

It was wonderful.

Frisk didn’t have to fit all their clothes and belongings in one little bag to be packed up whenever this family decided it was time to pass them on. Because this family wanted to keep Frisk. 

Frisk even thought that maybe Sans and Papyrus might get them something they wanted and didn’t just need if they asked. But! Frisk couldn’t do that, because what they had their eye on now was a surprise.

Violet had gotten in some really pretty yarn at the shop. There were balls of a blue the same shade as Sans’s jacket, and a bright orange that looked like Papyrus’s SOUL magic. It was so soft, and Frisk had to resist the urge to bury their face in it when they saw it the first time. It was pricey, though.

Frisk made up their mind. Sans and Papyrus gave them so much, and so Frisk would have to give them something back. They were pretty sure they could make some scarves.

A green flag popped up, and 1G appeared next to the hole as Frisk fell on their butt.

*Your concern and care for “Ball” led to a delicious victory.

First, they had to actually make the money, though.

###

Sore and cold, but thoroughly satisfied with their winnings, Frisk made their way back to town. They stopped by and said hi to the snowman on the way, and reassured him they still were carrying the piece of him around with them. Frisk liked to share some of their adventures with him when they got the chance, since they imagined being stuck in one place was probably boring.

The door to the Shop chimed merrily when Frisk stepped in. Violet perked up from her relaxed posture behind the counter.

“Frisk! Long time no see, eh?” She winked, and Frisk took that as their cue to laugh. “How was school today, darlin’?”

Frisk smiled so wide their cheeks hurt. “Really good! I had a lot of fun. Someone put a whoopee cushion under MK’s seat, though. I’ve got no idea who could have done that!”

Violet snorted, her deep laughter a balm to Frisk’s SOUL. “You little gremlin! I think you might be getting too similar to those skeletons. I don’t blame you though, lessons can get boring pretty quick.”

She shook her head and nodded up towards the counter. “Well, come here, then. I’ve got a cinnamon bunny with your name on it!”

Frisk shook away the snow on their boots near the entrance before they came all the way in. Before they got up to the counter, they paused by the shelf that had the yarn they wanted. The fibers were springy and soft under their fingers, and just as pretty as Frisk remembered. With a slight huff of effort, they awkwardly carried the whole basket over to the counter. They put it down and stood on their tiptoes to see over the top.

Violet laughed again, and Frisk loved her laugh. It was always loud and unrestrained and big, in a way that reminded Frisk of Papyrus.

“Doing a bit of shopping today, too? Well, here’s your cinnamon bunny.”

She slid the paper wrapped treat across the counter, still steaming, and Frisk grabbed it eagerly as they put it in their inventory, signing a quick “Thank you!”

And then Violet glanced over the basket and squinted. 

“Hmmmmm, the entire basket, huh? You’ve got good taste, I see! I just got these in from New Home the other day. Did you have something in mind that you wanted to make? And let’s see…”

She reached forward and snagged the tag on the basket that was clearly labeled “150 G” and crumpled it up.

“100 G for that! Don’t expect that again, though. I’m still runnin’ a business here.”

She winked and Frisk bounced on their feet and rapidly nodded their head. They counted out their G one by one, and Violet watched with a warm expression.

Frisk slid the G over the counter to her and answered her earlier question.

“Gifts for Sans and Papyrus!" They glanced side to side just to make sure the coast was actually clear of said skeletons, before looking back to Violet and raising their hand to their mouth in a shushing gesture. “It’s a surprise though! Don’t tell them!”

Violet snickered and leaned an elbow on the counter as they loaded their new purchases into their inventory.

“Okay, okay. My lips are sealed. Those skeletons won’t hear a word from me about it.”

Pleased with her easy agreement, Frisk’s hands flapped at their sides in excitement. They couldn’t wait to get started! 

"Thank you! Have a good day! Bye!!!”

They rushed back out the door, just catching Violet’s laughing response as she called out a farewell after them.

###

Frisk closed the front door of their house with a loud click, and that was more than enough sound to draw Sans and Papyrus’s attention. Frisk waved with a wide grin on their face before they signed.

“I’m home!”

“Welcome home, Frisk!”

“heya, kiddo.”

In the time it took Frisk to slide off their backpack, both Sans and Papyrus crowded around them. With a giggle, Frisk wrapped their arms around Sans and pressed their face against his hoodie, the faint smell of ketchup filling their nose. Boney arms gave them a quick squeeze, and they darted back when phalanges reached up to mess with their hair.

Papyrus was not-so-patiently waiting his turn, and Frisk ran over and threw their arms open. The tall skeleton folded himself nearly in half to reach down and pluck them up into a spinning hug. He pressed his teeth to the top of their head and a loud “MWAH” accompanied the action.

After a few more enthusiastic and dizzying spins, Papyrus plopped Frisk down on the couch and then sat crossed-legged on the floor in front of them. Sans slumped next to Frisk, and both he and Papyrus stared at Frisk with eager sockets.

Papyrus leaned forward, and his anxiety and excitement buzzed like a bunch of bees in Frisk’s chest.

“WELL? How was your first day at school? Did any monster try to drag you into an Encounter? Was anyone mean to you? Did King Asgore come to visit???”

“It went real good! Everyone was super nice! And King Asgore didn’t visit. I got to see all my friends, and Mr. Ruff was our teacher today! We didn’t have to do any spelling either.” A slight frown crossed Frisk’s face. “Even though I liked everyone, I still liked learning from you and Sans better.”

Papyrus’s gaze got softer, but only moments later, he puffed up like a peacock and made a dashing pose, his scarf fluttering behind him in a wind that Frisk couldn’t feel.

“Well! I am incredibly smart and talented after all! It’s only natural that you would prefer learning from me!”

Sans said, “maybe pap and i could stop by someday and take a turn teaching the class. and hey, we definitely aren’t gonna cut out the learning at home entirely. i’ve still got a skele -ton to teach you about.”

Frisk giggled as Papyrus narrowed his sockets at Sans and let out a grumble.

“Honestly Sans, must you be so lazy it even infects your humor? Would it kill you to be more creative?" He turned to Frisk. “I do agree with Sans, though! Perhaps we shall stop by soon. Just make sure you don’t let anything lesson your enthusiasm!”

Frisk fell down into hiccupping giggles, and Papyrus brightened further at their response. He leaned forward and poked their side, only making Frisk laugh harder.

Frisk was gonna miss spending all day with their brothers, but maybe this would be good.

Maybe, just maybe, things were gonna be okay for once. Frisk just had to be good, and then maybe they could keep this happiness.

Chapter Text

Sweat slid uncomfortably down Alphys’s collar and she tugged at it as she stared at her monitor. Her SOUL raced in her chest and she chewed at her fingertips until she could taste dust. One, two, three. Three people walked towards her lab. Oh, why did Alphys ever agree to this?!

Because now she was in too far, and Undyne knew about Frisk. And that wasn’t a problem per se, and Sans was definitely happier now and it all worked out, but—

Alphys’s SOUL hammered in her chest as Sans shuffled next to Frisk through Hotland. He held their hand as Frisk shot Undyne a nervous look. 

…But with all of them around, Alphys’s tower of lies stacked all the higher. And if one thing fell, the rest was sure to come with it.

So she was stressed out! Just a bit! Who wouldn’t be? And now her scales were cold and clammy and she was pretty sure she was going to throw up. She wasn’t ready to be in a room with her crush, her (ex?) best friend (who she hadn’t seen in person in years) and the human. She didn’t want to deal with this. She couldn’t deal with this. Was it too late to say no? Was it too late to just disappear—

Alphys fumbled for her phone when it buzzed. 

knock knock

She swallowed thickly as she responded.

Who’s there?

A few dots popped up. 

omelet.

Omelet, who?

omelet myself in.

“heh, like what you’ve done with the place.”

Alphys shrieked and jumped, her phone clattering to the floor as she spun around. Sans stood behind her as if he’d never left, with Frisk perched on his shoulders. The monitors were still focused on Undyne standing by the water cooler. 

Undyne stomped her foot and screamed so loudly that it traveled all the way to the lab.

“SANS, YOU ABSOLUTE JERK! GET YOUR BUTT BACK HERE!”

“heh.”

Small giggles filled the air, and Alphys plastered a grin on her face even as a rush of lightheadedness rushed over her. Sweat ran down her head in rivulets, and she lifted a hand to wave at Sans and his little sibling.

“H-Hi…”

Until Undyne had talked to her, Alphys wasn’t sure what kind of relationship Sans and Frisk had—only a few of her cameras had mics. But she knew Sans hadn’t looked… well. He hadn’t looked alive until he met them. He’d been falling down. 

Sans might not care about her anymore (or maybe he did—he still offered support even if it was in wordless offerings of dog food and soda showing up on her desk.) But even if Sans didn’t care about her… well. Alphys hadn’t thought he could care about anyone other than Papyrus for a while there.

But then the human showed up.

“Hi!”

Frisk greeted Alphys with an enthusiasm that reminded her of Papyrus, and Sans set them down next to his side. Before Alphys could respond, a rush of heat washed through the room as the doors to the lab slid open behind her.

Undyne was going to find out. She’d find out that Alphys lied about one thing, and then when she realized Alphys was a horrible, awful liar she’d look deeper and she’d find the lab, and then—

“UGGGGH! I hate Hotland!!! WHY IS IT SO HOT!? I’ll fight whoever thought this place was a good idea!”

Undyne threw herself on the floor, her gorgeous blue scales pressed against the tile to cool herself down, and Alphys’s SOUL fluttered in her chest in some mixture of feelings she couldn’t pull apart if she wanted to.

Sans snickered and wandered back over with his sibling—with Frisk—and kneeled down next to Undyne to poke her with a stick he pulled out of nowhere.

“you seem pretty heated about it. you’re telling me you don’t lava it? i guess it’s just too hot for you to candle."

Alphys took her chance to scurry over before Undyne suplexed Sans.

“Ah! You’re—you’re here! Not, uh, that I wasn’t expecting you! W-well, I wasn’t expecting Sans to come, too, but…”

She trailed off into silence that echoed in the room and through Alphys’s whole body. Eyes stared into her and she needed to get away.

“Let me go get you some water, Undyne!”

Alphys’s words rushed together, and she retreated quickly to the water cooler, mortification swirling in her chest. 

Alphys grabbed a couple glasses of water for her guests that would actually be affected by the heat. She busied herself until the flames on her face died down a bit, and the thought of turning around didn’t make her feel like she would pass out.

She walked back over and tentatively handed the cups over to Undyne and Frisk.

“Uh, here you go.”

Undyne snatched it from her and drained it near instantly, directing a wide grin at Alphys and making eye contact.

“Thanks Alphys! You’re the best!”

Darting her eyes away, Alphys eked out a “It was no problem, really!” before glancing over at Frisk. After they finished drinking, they placed their cup to the side to sign to her.

“Thank you! And thank you for helping with my sweater! It’s so soft!”

They darted closer to her, and Alphys flinched back. Small hands, not like any Alphys had ever felt with their lack of feathers or scales or bones, patted at her own, and when Alphys looked down, Frisk stared up at her.

Their eyes were red. Bright red—such a familiar shade of red—Alphys hadn’t seen that on her cameras, she was going to be sick—

Frisk pulled back to sign. “Wow! You’re so pretty!”

Alphys stumbled over a response, choking on her tongue as she tried to get words together.

“Tha–thank you.”

Frisk nodded their head and leaned forward. They signed as if they were trying to give the impression of whispering.

“Undyne thinks you’re really pretty, too.”

All thoughts of red dropped from Alphys’s mind and instead rushed to her face as heat consumed her.

“Frisk!” There was a shout, and Undyne leapt forward. 

Suddenly, Frisk wasn’t in front of her anymore—they were on Sans’s shoulders as he walked around the other half of the lab, whistling his own jaunty SOUL song, and instead of a small human, Undyne got an armful of… whoopie cushions?

Alphys giggled, and despite the fear still hammering in her chest, something relaxed. Undyne was busy extracting herself from an ever-growing pile of prank supplies with a tenacity that Alphys really, really admired about her when Sans finished his lap around the room and stopped in front of her. This time, instead of a joke, he gave her a proper greeting.

“heya alph. long time no see.”

“H-hi Sans! I guess it has been a long time. About, uh, six years…”

She trailed off. What did she say to a friend she hadn’t talked to except for exchanging shitty memes on social media in over half a decade?

(A friend she committed treason for, and a friend who helped her keep her deepest secret, despite the years of silence between them.)

 “I, um. Er. How have you been? How has Papyrus been doing?”

Undyne broke through the piles of pranking goods, coated in a glitter that shone on her scales and drew attention to the sleek line of muscles lining her body, and Alphys’s mouth grew dry. Undyne threw herself forward, the full force of her attention landing on Alphys as she spoke.

“You know Papyrus?! You know SANS?!”

Alphys was spared the struggle of explaining when Sans cut back in, his hand ruffling Frisk’s hair as he talked.

“what? haven’t you seen a guy with two careers before?”

He snickered when Undyne whirled around to face him; her face contorted in a scowl as she yelled at him.

“What does that have to do with anything?!”

“eh, i used to work around the lab. would bring papyrus around sometimes when he was a kid, but he doesn’t remember the time very well.”

Undyne raised a brow at him. “You? Actually working? What kind of odd jobs did they find for YOU to do?”

Alphys rocked back on the heels of her feet and responded.

“It, um, it wasn’t odd jobs! Sans was a lead scientist! He—he helped maintain the CORE, and was the lead researcher on q-quantum physics and alternative methods to break the barrier. He came up with break-through technology!”

She trailed off when she noticed Sans blushing a bright blue and Frisk shaking his arm in excitement before they moved to sign.

“You were a scientist? A lead scientist? What was it like? Did you not like it? Why did you quit?”

Undyne’s mouth dropped open as she stared. Sans rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and chuckled at Frisk’s excitement, giving them a soft smile that Alphys used to think was reserved only for Papyrus.

“heh, come on kiddo, one question at a time! yeah, i was a scientist. it was probably about what you’d expect. lots of science-y stuff. i liked it a lot. and i quit so i could take care of papyrus. He was only a bit older than a baby bones at the time—fourteen. he needed me at home, not spending all day and night at a lab.” 

He shot Frisk a wink. “it’s probably better that i quit. it’s not like i’ve got the brains for the job anyway. i’m pretty empty-headed."

Sans knocked on his skull with a fist, and Undyne looked at him like she was seeing him in a slightly different light. Sans pivoted back to Alphys.

“and, uh, to answer your questions, i’ve been doing pretty good lately. papyrus is top of his class at school right now—he’s double majoring at university with an independent program that lets him do most of his work from home. advanced puzzle engineering and political science, and he’s beating everyone else’s butts.”

He poked Frisk in the side and they giggled.

“Papyrus is the coolest!”

“oh, by the way… i should probably introduce you. frisky, this is alphys. alphys, this is frisk, my youngest sibling.” 

He ruffled Frisk’s hair, making it stick up at funny angles. 

“papyrus and i took ‘em in after they fell. heh, i mean what kinda crazies let an eight-year-old run around unsupervised?”

It was the ultimate found family story of all time, and Alphys couldn’t resist squealing a bit. She’d rather think about that than anything else. It would be nice to drown herself in the perfect story in front of her, so she didn’t have to think about what was below their feet. 

Undyne leaned forward with a wide grin as she messed their hair up even more.

“Yeah, this right here is like a BABY baby bones! They’re pretty much a toddler!”

She got the result she was looking for when Frisk’s cheeks puffed out in an absolutely adorable display as they signed.

“I’m not a baby! You’re a baby!”

A shit-eating grin spread across Undyne’s face as she noogied them. “A baby! A baby! Only a baby would call someone else a baby!”

Frisk did their best to shake off Undyne’s hands and pouted at her. It was slightly harder to recognize on a human face, but Alphys was pretty sure she had seen Papyrus make that exact expression many times on her cameras.

“Don’t noogie the human! And you just called me a baby! Doesn’t that make you a baby?”

Undyne squished their face between her hands. “Nah! I’m too awesome for that to count! But you! Are. A. GUPPY! A widdle itty bitty guppy.”

She cooed the last part with exaggerated sweetness, her grin only growing wider when Frisk stomped their foot in a manner very similar to Papyrus.

Alphys watched the spectacle with Sans, heat rising to her scales as Undyne interacted with Frisk. She was always so good at playing with kids. Would she be just as good with her own? Maybe one with red hair and yellow scales…

After several more back and forths, Frisk crossed their arms, and a glare settled on their chubby face. “Okay, fine! I’m a baby. But if I’m a baby, then you like A–”

Alphys’s daydreams were cut off when Undyne reached down and plucked Frisk up, lifting them above her head. Next to her, Sans was tense.

“–ANIME! HA. HAHA. YES! I like human history tapes!!! Which is what we’re here to do!!! Alphys!”

She barked out and barreled towards Alphys, Frisk tucked haphazardly against her side. Undyne scooped Alphys into her other arm and rushed for the upper part of the lab, Sans following.

“NGAHHH! Let’s go watch some history!!!”

A few moments later, Undyne lowered Alphys to the couch that she’d kicked open from its cubed form, and Alphys’s stomach swooped and swirled over how easy it had been for Undyne to pick her up. She simultaneously never wanted the trip to end and also wanted to disappear into the floor with how hot her scales were.

Undyne put Frisk next to Alphys, and almost immediately Sans was there, too, perched on the couch like he’d been lounging there for hours. Undyne scratched the back of her neck, but then she leaned forward so close that Alphys could reach out and tuck a stray piece of her fiery hair behind her fin if she wanted to.

“Eh. Sorry about that. Got a bit carried away. But hey! We’re here now! Do you think we could watch something with fighting? And then… princesses!? Or FIGHTING princesses!?”

Dizzy from the close contact with her crush, Alphys mumbled out something along the lines of getting snacks before stumbling for the door. Barely remembering to answer Undyne’s question, she called over her shoulder. “And uh, yes! You can look through my DVDs. Put on whatever you want…!”

Undyne cheered loudly and grabbed Sans, crowing about how epic human history was as Alphys rushed from the room, willing her face to cool down.

###

Teeth still on edge from Undyne’s spontaneous tackle, Frisk forced back their startled reaction. It was honestly kind of fun when Undyne would carry them around, and it was easy enough to tell when Undyne was just being playful. 

Frisk just wished they would get used to it already. Because it was nice. Frisk loved the easy affection that Sans, Papyrus, and now Undyne treated them with. 

Something warm washed over them, and Frisk glanced up to see Sans’s cocked brow bone as he nodded along to Undyne’s words about the different DVDs and VHSs. Frisk was still getting used to their bond, but it wasn’t so hard to understand the feelings Sans pressed towards them. 

Concern, and maybe a gentle question. If it was words, it would probably be “you okay?”

Frisk pursed their lips and nodded. Clumsily, they tried to shape their own emotions to respond. That was the easy part—sending those down the bond on purpose, with nothing else included, was something else. It was hard, but a warm feeling, like soft, calloused hands, cradled their magic and it got easier as a voice chirped in their head.

*Look, it’s you! 

With that, Frisk sent a pulse of love and, hopefully, reassurance back towards Sans through their bond, and they beamed when he nodded. It worked!

With Sans comforted, that meant it was time for Frisk’s next mission. 

*Operation: “Get Undyne a Girlfriend” is ready to commence!

Frisk’s grin got a sharp edge as they slid off the couch and crept towards the escalator. Sans huffed out a laugh when he saw them, but kept Undyne distracted. Perfect.

Frisk got all the way to the fridge before Alphys noticed them, and the friendly lizard… had her entire face stuck in it?

*It’s no wonder why Undyne thinks Alphys is cool. 

Frisk snickered, and Alphys jolted back, slamming the fridge shut with an “eep!” They took the chance to slide up to her. 

“Hi again! Whatcha doing?”

“I—um—Snacks! I was getting snacks!”

She held out two bags of chisps, and Frisk tilted their head to the side.

“Why were those in the fridge?”

She turned bright red and gave a wobbly smile as she looked off to the side.

“B-Because they’re, uh, fridge chisps…?”

That made sense! Frisk was pretty sure Sans used to keep empty chisp bags in the fridge, too. With a firm nod, Frisk responded.

“Oh, okay!”

They both stood there for another moment, staring at each other in silence as Alphys got sweatier. After another minute, Frisk glanced off to the side at the giant monitors and the papers scattered around them.

“Undyne talks about you a lot! She says you’re the royal scientist and really, really cool. What do you do?”

Alphys got so red that she looked like she was gonna pass out, and Frisk’s grin widened. Goal! It was definitely obvious Undyne wasn’t the only one with a crush.

“U-Undyne said that…? I, oh, um, I work on research to break the barrier, but technology is really my specialty…”

Frisk nodded rapidly.

“You made Mettaton, right?” They bounced on the balls of their feet and leaned closer to Alphys. “That’s SO COOL!!! Mettaton is the best! Papyrus and I watch his shows! ‘Love Love, Drama!’ is my favorite, but Papyrus likes his ‘Cooking with a Glamorous Robot’ more. I can’t believe you made him! That’s amazing! You’re so cool!!!”

*Alphys looks like she is going to spontaneously combust. You wonder if she is shy.

“C-c-cool? You, um, think I’m cool??? But I’m not really… I don’t…I don’t… Errr… Umm... T-Thank you!”

Frisk slid back to give her some space, and Alphys looked around wildly before she reached out to grab a bottle of soda, ketchup, and some iced tea.

“Snacks!!! I came d-down here for snacks. I’m, um, going to grab those now. And then we can go watch anime…? What, uh, what do you want to drink?”

Frisk pointed at the iced tea, and Alphys grabbed another bottle.

“T-This is Undyne’s favorite… She likes hot tea, too, but she doesn’t really drink it when she visits me. Well, unless there are people around.”

Giggles slipped past Alphys’s teeth, and Frisk leaned forward in their best impression of Undyne.

“I’m too tough for this heat to beat me! You wimps think I can’t drink hot tea in hot weather? I’LL SHOW YOU!!!”

Giggles turned into snorts, and Frisk joined Alphys in her laughter.

“That’s it!!! You know her pretty well, don’t you?”

…Maybe a bit too well. Frisk probably knew more sides to Undyne than most people. Especially the pointy sides. But that was upsetting, and Frisk didn’t want to be upset! So they nodded firmly and reached out to grab some of the drinks from Alphys.

“…Yeah! And so do you! You know her reeeeally well. Here let me help you carry those!”

Frisk ignored Alphys’s yelp and snatched a bottle of tea and the ketchup before darting back upstairs. They tossed the ketchup to Sans and leapt up on the couch, stretching out as much as they could in between him and Undyne in order to take up all the seats.

“heh, whatcha doin’ there, kiddo?”

A bony hand ruffled Frisk’s hair, and as much as they wanted to snuggle up in Sans’s lap, they were on a mission. Frisk didn’t have time to respond to him before Alphys scurried up the escalator, and they turned to face her with their widest eyes, just like Papyrus taught them.

“Oh! There’s not enough space. But that’s okay! There’s still another seat! Look!”

Frisk pointed at Undyne’s lap, and Undyne’s face twisted up into an embarrassed grin. Behind their head, Sans’s low chuckles filled the room.

Alphys got redder and redder as Frisk watched.

“O-oh, I couldn’t—I can—I can just sit on the ground. Unless you, uh, wanted me too…?”

Alphys wouldn’t meet Undyne’s eye, and Frisk really wished they had popcorn. They didn’t bother stifling their cheer when Undyne responded.

“Come here! There’s PLENTY of space for you on my lap!”

Frisk better be getting a fist bump out of this later tonight.

###

*BAM! KAPOW! The heroine appears! The villain attacks!

“There’s no way you’ll win with that wimpy style!!! Come on Princess Magic! Kick his butt!”

*Yeah, kick his butt!

Frisk wasn’t sure what was louder: their thoughts or Undyne’s voice. Both seemed to be pretty enthusiastic about the show, and it had only grown as the night went on.

Just then, the bad guy on screen slipped off just before the heros caught him for good.

“GAHHH! LEMME FIGHT ‘IM! THERE’S NO WAY HE COULD WALK AWAY FROM ME!” 

Frisk suddenly started sliding off the couch as it was lifted, but Sans caught them in his arms. Next to them, Alphys tumbled gently to the ground and Undyne proceeded to suplex the couch. Even the heavily reinforced furniture stood no match against Undyne, and it broke in half.

*Undyne destroys the couch! The bad guys never stood a chance!

Frisk giggled loudly, safe in Sans’s arm. (Things were always less scary when he held them.)

“ya know, i get you aren’t exactly a couch potato like me, but what’d that poor furniture ever do to you? where are we gonna sit now?”

A quiet “heh” escaped Sans, and he shifted Frisk to rest on his hip.

“welp, i think that’s our cue to be heading out. it’s getting pretty late, and this lazybones needs to hit the sack at a reasonable hour.”

Undyne immediately backpedaled. 

“We just got to the good part! Come on, at least leave Frisk here!”

Sans somehow gave Undyne a flat look, even with the smile still spread across his face.

“sorry, did i say this lazybones? i meant the baby bones. cuz, uh, kids need sleep or something like that.”

“SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!”

Sans’s head cocked to the side. “...so that’s where papyrus got that from.”

“Papyrus didn’t get that from me! I GOT THAT FROM PAPYRUS!!! Fuhuhuhu! You can’t argue with your own brother’s logic!”

A maniacal grin split Undyne’s face as she laughed, and Sans raised his shoulders in a lazy shrug

“oops. tell that to papyrus. i’m pretty sure he’d be thrilled if i started taking his advice.”

Frisk tore their attention away from the verbal volleyball in front of them. 

*You stare at the TV. You want to finish watching the anime.

Frisk would admit that they kinda wanted to watch more, but they wouldn’t risk missing their bedtime story! Their thoughts seemed more upset by the idea of leaving than they actually felt. And Sans was trying to go…

Frisk shrugged their shoulders and yawned big and loud before they blinked their eyes slowly. They snuggled up to Sans’s side and gave a sleepy wave to Undyne and Alphys. Sans didn’t call them out on their acting, and warm amusement washed over them from the bond. 

Alphys waved back while Undyne groaned at Frisk’s goodbye.

“Awww…”

“I understand! Sleep is very important for growing monsters. And, uh, humans too, I guess. I-It was really nice meeting you, Frisk.”

Frisk understood why Undyne liked her so much. Alphys really was very nice.

“Oh, before you go, let me give you my ph—phone number!”

Sans adjusted Frisk in his arms so they could grab their phone from their inventory and hand it over to Alphys. 

A scandalized look overtook Alphys’s face as she inspected the phone. Claws clacked against the metal of the phone as she turned it around and made an even more upset face.

“Wh… where’d you get that phone!? It’s ANCIENT! It doesn’t even have texting.”

Frisk didn’t have time to respond when Alphys shot Sans an annoyed look before a teasing smirk spread across her face.

“Why haven’t you fixed this yet? Too, um, b-boneheaded? You’ve always been p-pretty thick-skulled.”

Frisk’s mouth fell open, and they turned to look at Sans. He seemed… comfortable. And happy? Even with the bond, Frisk wasn’t always the best at telling when Sans was feeling stuff, but he wasn’t upset.

“guess i’m just not wired for tech the same way you are. how ‘bout you? you ever figure out that quantum particle theory? or are you just too much of a lizard brain?”

Alphys raised a brow and tilted her head up so she was looking down her nose at Sans. “I-I’ll have you know I published a paper detailing quantum particle entanglement. What about you, hmmm? W-what have you done in the tech field?”

Before Sans could fire back, Alphys looked down at the phone in her hand and remembered where she was.

“O-oh. I’m sorry! I don’t—Er—… I’ll, uh, fix Frisk’s phone. W-wait a second, please!”

Before anyone could say a word, Alphys took the phone and dashed to her work area on the first floor. Sans, Frisk and Undyne all stared at each other as the sounds of machinery floated up.

Undyne grinned at Frisk.

“That’s Alphys for you! She’s the BEST! You’re probably gonna have the coolest phone in the Underground when she’s done!”

Despite his teasing earlier, Sans’s smile was fond as he agreed.

“you can’t get better than alphys when it comes to tech. she’s right though—i should have fixed your phone earlier or brought it to her. i just… didn’t think. especially since you can talk to papyrus with no problem. but i should have remembered. sorry, kiddo.”

A whole phone upgrade? With that, Frisk could… Frisk could do so much! They weren’t sure if MK had a phone, but if they did, Frisk could text them! They could text Alphys, and Undyne, and Sans…! Until now, the only person Frisk could talk to on the phone was Papyrus, since he could see them. (Well, they thought he could see them? He wouldn’t give them a straight answer about that, but he always responded to them when they signed.)

Frisk vibrated in Sans’s arms as the sounds of clanking and crashing quieted down, and Alphys rushed back upstairs. She passed Frisk the phone, and they took it. It was kind of warm, and buzzy, and there was a charm on it from the anime they’d watched earlier.

“Here, I upgraded it for you! It can do texting, items, it’s got a key chain… I even signed you up for the underground’s No. 1 social network! Now we’re officially friends! Ehehehe! Heheh… Heh..”

As she trailed off, Frisk ran their fingers over the phone. Their chest was tight, and something thick was in their throat as their eyes stung. So many people were so, so nice to Frisk. Alphys didn’t even really know them, but she still did this.

Frisk didn’t deserve it. Frisk didn’t deserve a lot of things, but the people around them hadn’t realized that yet.

The phone charm under their fingers was a pretty shade of green, and Frisk clutched it tightly to themself. And then they slid the phone into their inventory and patted Sans until he placed them down. 

Frisk launched themself at Alphys, and she stumbled back, but still caught them. Her coat was scratchy, but her arms were soft and squishy. Alphys gave really nice hugs.

A few moments passed before Frisk finally drew back to sign.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! This is amazing!”

“I-it was no problem. I’m, um, glad you like it!”

Frisk grabbed her in one more hug before they let her go and returned to Sans’s side. They didn’t even have to say anything before he scooped them up and tucked them into his arms.

“well, this was nice and all, but we really need to get going. i mean, look how sleepy this face is.”

Sans poked Frisk’s cheek, and they yelped. They weren’t ready yet! They closed their eyes and did their best to look as sleepy as possible.

Quiet snickers filled the room, though Undyne’s were louder.

“A-Ah, well, it was nice seeing you again, Sans…”

“Don’t be such a stranger! We’ve gotta do this again sometime! And bring Papyrus next time, too!”

Sans lifted a hand to wave, but before he could walk to the door, Frisk tugged on him when they remembered something.

“Wait!”

Sans paused, and Frisk took the chance to lean towards Undyne with wide eyes.

“You broke Alphys’s couch earlier! So you gotta pay her back! With! A kiss!!!”

They made a kissy face and broke out into peals of laughter as Sans laughed just as hard. Stutters escaped Alphys as she tried to protest.

“N-no, you don’t have to kiss me, unless you, uh, really wanted too…?”

A wide grin crossed Undyne’s blushing face.

“Well, if I gotta pay, I gotta pay, I guess!”

Sans didn’t keep them there for much longer, walking towards the door. As soon as they crossed through and Frisk blinked, they were home. Sans fell back onto their squishy couch and pulled Frisk with him, his whole body shaking as he laughed.

“now you are one mischievous little matchmaker, aren’t ya? remind me to never get on your bad side!”

###

It was long after everyone else in the house was settled in bed that Sans’s phone pinged angrily. A shit-eating grin spread across his face as he looked at all the incoming notifications.

ALPHYS updated status.

@funnybones69 you are NOT funny!

ALPHYS updated status.

[There is a picture of a sink faucet turned on. Instead of water coming out, glitter is filling the basin. Glitter can be seen scattered around the area. The craft herpes have attacked.]

ALPHYS updated status.

it’s not stopping! ohmystars makE IT STOP

ALPHYS updated status.

@funnybones69 u owe me a new lab coat. and a new sink.

ALPHYS updated status.

@funnybones69 u just owe me a new lab at this point.

ALPHYS updated status.

some ppl just think they’re sooooo funny but they AREN’T

ALPHYS updated status.

rip my lab may we fondly remember the days before SOMEBODY tragically murdered it.

It was a long time before Sans could stop laughing.

Chapter Text

Undyne kissed Alphys.

Her lips were soft, yet insistent, and the kiss was every bit as passionate as Alphys dreamed it would be. After too long and too short at the same time, Undyne drew back, her strong, calloused hand resting on Alphys’s shoulder, and electricity shot up and down Alphys’s form as her lips tingled.  

“SCREW IT! I’m done beating around the bush. And before you say it, NO, I’m NOT doing this to pay you back for that gosh darned couch! I like you, Alphys. You’re cool, and smart, and passionate, and I really wanna go out with you. So, uh, will you? Go out with me?”

Heat rushed up Alphys’s form and rested in her cheeks, and she felt faint. 

She dreamed so much about this. She’d written about it and fantasized about it and yearned for it and she knew her next lines. YES, UNDYNE! KISS ME! HOLD ME!!! I’M MADLY IN LOVE WITH YOU!!!

What came out was a broken squeak. 

“I-I-I, Um, I—”

Alphys looked firmly at Undyne’s chest, and did not look to the side. But despite that, the image of her lab was burned into her head. The shelves of anime and manga filled with impossible things that would never be true. The seaweed in her fridge that had nothing to do with science, and everything to do with ice cream. The mess shoved into her closet at the last minute because she hadn’t done her laundry in ages.

The monitors that were focused on Snowdin, still tracking Frisk home, because Alphys had known where they were the entire time.

The bag of dog food propped against the wall, meant for monsters that should be dead, but now couldn’t die even if they wanted to because of her.

The hidden lab under her feet, and her desk stuffed with angry letters, filled with the people she’d hurt.

All of this rested on Alphys’s shoulders, invisible to Undyne’s eye. Her lies wrapped around her like frozen chains, tightening on her throat.

The woman of her dreams was in front of her eyes and telling Alphys that she liked her after giving her the most dazzling and passionate kiss in the world. But Undyne didn’t like Alphys. Not really. Not who Alphys truly was, and if she really knew, she never would.

“I..I–”

—Like you, too.

Alphys’s voice broke and tears stung at her eyes. Her glasses fogged up, and she tore herself away from Undyne’s slowly tightening grip. Alphys didn’t deserve to look at the kind concern written into every line of Undyne’s face. 

“I can’t! I… I can’t, Undyne! You don’t actually like me! N-no one would like me if they—if they knew who I really was! You’re so confident and strong, and funny, and—and—and I’m just a nobody!”

Undyne took a step forward, closer to Alphys.

“HEY! Don’t talk about my friend like that. Even if you don’t like me back… You’re not a nobody, Alphys, you’re cool—”

“I lied to you, Undyne!”

Alphys tore away as the shout left her lips, the lies she’d told Undyne so much more painful right now. She took a few, scurrying steps backwards, the chains of her deception slipping down, down and away.

“I’m—I’m not cool! I’ve lied to you about—about EVERYTHING!”

Alphys chanced a glance up and immediately regretted it. Undyne’s face was twisted into shock and confusion. But Alphys couldn’t stop now.

“I told you that seaweed was like… scientifically important… Really, I just… I just use it to make ice cream! And those human history books I keep reading… Those are just dorky comic books! And the history movies… those… Those are just, uh, anime! They aren’t real! And that time I told you I was busy with work on the phone… I… Was just eating frozen yogurt in my pajamas! That time I…”

“Alphys.”

Undyne interrupted her, but Alphys barreled on.

“I… I just wanted to impress you! I just wanted you to think I was smart and cool. That I wasn’t some… nerdy loser.”

“Alphys.”

“Undyne, I… I really think you’re neat, Okay…”

Undyne took a step forward and kneeled down, and when she pulled Alphys into her arms again, Alphys didn’t protest. She stroked her back, and Alphys leaned into the touch.

“Alphys. Shhhh. Shhhhhh.”

And then Undyne drew back, picked Alphys up like it was nothing, and… tossed her onto the broken remains of the couch? Alphys’s jaw dropped as she bounced once on the cushion while Undyne stood across from her and put her hands on her hips.

She barked out her response.

“Alphys! You’ve gotta realize… Most of what you said really doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care if you’re watching kid cartoons or reading history books. To me, ALL of that stuff is just NERDY CRAP! What I like about you is that you’re PASSIONATE! You’re ANALYTICAL!! It doesn’t matter what it is! YOU CARE ABOUT IT!! 100-PERCENT!! AT MAXIMUM POWER!!!”

Alphys’s breath hitched, and her shoulders hunched as Undyne said everything she’d ever wanted to hear. Across from her, Undyne’s volume faltered.

“…So, you don’t have to lie to me. I don’t want you to have to lie to anyone anymore. Alphys… I want to help you become happy with who you are! And I know just the training you need to do that!”

How was Undyne so cool? So perfect and wonderful and kind, and—

She really was out of Alphys’s league.

Undyne tore her gaze away from Alphys to look off to the side, and crossed her arms in front of her chest as she continued speaking.

“...Papyrus is pretty good at all that self-confidence building crap. He’s been shakier on it lately, but this will be good for both of you. SO!”

Undyne strode towards Alphys, leaning down to pet her head briskly.

“You’re gonna start to care about yourself more, okay?! And… And I care about you, too. You’re you, even IF the nerdy stuff you like is different than what I thought. We can get through this! Just… get some sleep for tonight. And I’ll go get some sleep, too.”

She pulled back and scratched the back of her neck sheepishly.

“And tomorrow we can figure out what WE wanna be. Together. And I’ll call Papyrus and we can get you both training on building your self confidence. It’ll be GREAT! You’ll see.”

Heat stained Alphys’s face, and she felt like she was about to pass out as she nodded shakily.

“U-Undyne… I’ll do my best…!”

Undyne nodded, and turned around to stride for the door. She paused to call over her shoulder.

“You’re great! And one of these days, you’ll see it too. …Goodnight, Alphys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She didn’t wait for a response as she strode towards the door of the lab, walking out into the blistering heat of Hotland. Alphys jumped to her feet, a hand stretched out as she called to Undyne.

“W-wait, Undyne! Where are you going to sleep?”

But Undyne was already gone, and Alphys’s words trailed off.

“You’ve been—you’ve been sleeping on my couch, though…?”

There was no answer, and the broken couch behind Alphys mocked her.

###

Frisk was changing into their pajamas when their phone pinged. They paused with one arm still out of their shirt and reached over to grab it. Their very first text message greeted them, Undyne’s name popping up on the screen. 

Undyne: Frisk.

Frisk blinked, and it took them a second to figure out how to respond, but then they sent back a question mark.

Undyne: Frisk. Anime is real, RIGHT? IS ANIME REAL? TELL ME ANIME IS REAL!!!

Of all the things for this evening to bring, that was Undyne’s question? She sucked at romance! No wonder she hadn’t kissed Alphys before. Frisk pouted, and plopped down on the ground to respond, their shirt still hanging off of them halfway. They quickly glanced up to double check how Undyne spelled the words before they responded, making sure to type them right.

Frisk: anime isnt real.

Undyne didn’t respond for a long second. But then her messages came in a rush, and Frisk didn’t have a chance to respond.

Undyne: NO!!! I CAN FEEL MY HEART BREAKING INTO PIECES!!! 

…no. I can survive this…

I have to be strong.

For Alphys.

Thank you, Frisk, for telling me the truth.

I’ll try my best to live in this world…

Wait.

Why are you still up?

Frisk snorted as they typed out a response.

Frisk: y arnt u kissing alphss?

Frisk’s phone was silent for a second, but then Undyne sent another message.

Undyne: Go to bed, nerd. …Uh, also, do you think Papyrus would mind if I crashed on your couch tonight?

…Oh no. That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all, and Frisk’s stomach clenched as they gritted their teeth.

Frisk: com over. he wont mind.

Frisk slid their phone into their pocket and rushed for the door.

*You think you should finish getting dressed, first.

Frisk skidded to a halt and pulled their night shirt on correctly, before barreling downstairs to where Papyrus was perched on the couch, a textbook in his lap. A frown pulled at their lips, and the second Papyrus looked up at them, they signed.

“Papyrus! It’s a love emergency! Something went wrong, and now Undyne doesn’t have a place to sleep, so she can sleep here, right?”

All Frisk felt from their bond was cotton, but Papyrus smiled at them anyway. 

“I’m not sure—”

His phone rang, and he nodded towards Frisk.

“One second!”

He clicked it open, and even though it wasn’t on speaker phone, Undyne always talked loud enough for Frisk to hear.

“Hey Papyrus! I, uh, Frisk kinda invited me over. I wanted to check with you first, though. I can crash at the inn or something.”

Papyrus looked up from his phone to Frisk, and their stomach dropped. He wasn’t mad, was he? Undyne was his best friend! If he let a weird kid sleep on his couch, surely he wouldn’t mind his best friend sleeping there?

Papyrus looked away.

“I… Yes. There’s no sense in paying for those creaky old beds! Our creaky old couch is much better! Or maybe our tool shed… Though, I suppose that’s a bit chilly. But you can stay here. Just… Just for tonight, at least! And you can tell me why you are not busy canoodling, which, I have been informed, was the attempted outcome of today!”

“...Yeah. I will. Thanks, Papyrus.”

Frisk let out a sigh of relief, and they slipped up to snuggle next to Papyrus on the couch. He wrapped his arm around their shoulders as he finished up saying bye to Undyne.

“Yes, well, it is no problem for a friend as great as I! See you soon, Undyne!”

He hung up the phone with a click, and sat there for a second. His arm around Frisk’s shoulders tightened.

And then he pulled them into his lap and buried his head in their hair as he held them like a teddy bear. He picked them up against his chest like Frisk didn’t weigh anything. Papyrus was so strong, but… Frisk wasn’t scared. He wasn’t mad or annoyed at them, so he wasn’t going to hurt them. Not right now, at least. Instead, Frisk felt so, so safe and loved wrapped up like this.

After a long moment of silence, Papyrus spoke, his voice muffled since he didn’t pull away. 

“I suppose the matchmaking didn’t work, then…? Well. Never mind that.”

Frisk nuzzled closer into him, their nose pressed against the soft fabric of his cropped sweater. It smelled fresh, and faintly of cinnamon and bone cologne. His grip around them tightened, and his SOUL hummed against them. It was even faster than it normally was.

“Frisk? I have a very critical mission for you tonight! The most important of important things! Your mission!!! Is to see how long you can stay attached to me! A very daring test of your finesse and skeleton climbing skills! How about it?”

Frisk still only felt cotton through their bond, but Papyrus’s voice was kind of high pitched. Frisk didn’t think he was mad at them, though, and it sounded like a fun challenge, so…

They nodded, and Papyrus sagged. He nuzzled his skull against Frisk’s head, and Frisk did their best to wrap their arms around him and give him the biggest hug they could. They couldn’t reach all the way around his ribs though—not even close. He let out a quiet laugh.

“Nyeh heh heh! You are so tiny! Come here.”

He picked them up a little higher, and Frisk took the chance to latch onto his neck and hug him tightly. This probably wouldn’t be a very good way to hug anyone other than Sans or Papyrus, but, well… neither of them could choke like that.

He laughed again, and his bones rattled under Frisk with the movement. They pouted, even though he couldn’t see it, and mumbled against him.

“‘m not tiny! You’re just giant!”

As if to prove their point, Papyrus stood up, and Frisk was seven feet off of the ground. They’d be worried, but Papyrus wouldn’t let them get hurt. 

“Compared to you I certainly am!”

Frisk narrowed their eyes. That sounded like an agreement, but they were pretty sure he was still calling them small, somehow.

“Well, never mind that! Are you ready for our challenge?”

They tightened their grip and nodded, and slowly, Papyrus let them go so they were only holding on by their own strength. Out of the corner of their eye, Frisk saw the way his arms hovered right underneath them. The second their strength faltered, Papyrus would catch them. But Frisk wouldn’t fail!

Papyrus chuckled, and went upstairs to let Sans know about their guest… And maybe to get their bedtime story before Undyne got there. Frisk held onto Papyrus the whole time.

When their arms got too tired a bit later, Papyrus didn’t say anything. He just slid them onto his shoulders instead. 

###

“Hey, I’m here!”

Undyne knocked on the door and then pushed it open, toeing off her boots as she went. When she looked up, Papyrus and Frisk were on the couch with Frisk perched on his shoulders, a blanket wrapped around them, and another blanket and pillow sitting next to them.

“Hello, Undyne!”