Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

We find Sopran, a tiny, fragile Sans, wandering the streets on a rainy summer night.

They are covered in blood and monsterdust and on the cusp of falling down

Not paying any attention to their surroundings, they walk into Red, who had just stumbled out of a bar and was now on his way back home.

Red can sense the fresh LV and is confused. Every Sans and swapped Papyrus alternate is the Judge of their respective world and he never met a Judge with LV.

At the same time the other doesn't look like a killer, more scared themself.

Sopran decides that this bigger Sans might be able to end their misery and when he summons a sharp bone, Sopran is ready to go.

But then, Sopran collapses and Red catches them in his arms.

He is highly confused and decides to help this strange Sans, whose HoPe is dwindling. He takes them home and hides them from his brother, Edge, fearing how he might react to an unknown monster, covered in dust and with fresh LV.

Of course, Edge immediately knows something is up.

Red gets himself and Sopran into something dry and lays the other in his bed.

After a stressful supper he comes back with food for Sopran, only to find his bed empty.

He finds them in a small corner behind his bed, panicking, and only puts the food in front of them and backs up to not further scare them

Sopran passes out after they ate and Red finds them feverish. He puts them on one side of his bed and sleeps on the other.

The next morning, Edge demands Red to tell him what's up and they both agree to talk about it after work.

While alone in the Fell-brothers' home, Sopran wakes up and goes exploring. They find the kitchen and take a pudding from the fridge, because they are hungry.

They get scared by a fluffy cat, but learn quickly that 'Doomfanger' isn't like the cats they had to fight in the streets.

The two fall asleep on the living room floor, cuddling.

In the evening, the brothers return home and Edge loudly demands Red to spill. His yelling wakes Sopran and Doomfanger, the former trying to hide in a panic, the latter trying to protect his new cuddle buddy.

Edge finds Sopran and Red explains. Edge agrees to help Sopran. After supper and Sopran passing out from a panic attack, Red puts them in his bed again and the brothers discuss how to find out more about Sopran.

They call Sans and Stretch, but no one ever heard about Sopran.

The next morning, they offer Sopran to bring them home and Sopran is sad, thinking the brothers don't care.

They take the car to the street Sopran told them, and the tiny Sans enters an apartment building to make the brothers believe they live there.

As soon as the car drives off, they leave the building and go to the back alley they actually live in. But, besides the brothers, who only pretended to leave Sopran on their own, a gang of monsters follow Sopran into the alley and try to kill them. The brothers intervene and scare the gang off.

They take Sopran back home with them.

Sopran tells them how they were dumpster diving that evening, Red found them, and were attacked by the same gang. A boar monster named Fiona threatened Sopran with a gun and in the following skirmish, Sopran accidentally shot Fiona with her own weapon. That's how Sopran gained their 3 LV.

The brothers assure Sopran that they're not to blame, that it was an accident and happened in self-defense.

After that, Sopran cries themself to sleep, relieved.

Chapter Text

Red felt the corner of his mouth curl upwards as he, as gentle as he could, placed his small alternate on the side of his bed, he already thought of as his.

Sopran, in his sleep, nuzzled his head in the pillow and inhaled deeply. His features relaxed further and he let out a heartfelt relaxed sigh.

The possibility that it was his scent that made Sopran feel safe did things to Red's Soul, he didn't know what to think of.

He hoped his scent drenching the pillows and blankets would be enough to let the smaller sleep through the night.

Once more he wondered what Sopran's story was. Every Sans had a story, with more or less significant variations, partly only caused by the nature of their worlds, sometimes because certain things worked out different in the past and were still influencing the present.

Like his own world was only a meaner version of this world, they'd landed in when the barrier fell. A good example for the other side was Horrortale, which had been just like this world, only that their human left and never came back, which caused things to go south for monsterkind. Eventually another human came along and freed them.

Red shuddered when he thought about his first meeting with Axe, how the Horrortale Sans was called. He almost had a soul attack at the sight of the other's bashed in skull. What was left of the Horrortale monsters was sent to rehab, to help them healing from the consequences of years of starvation.

Axe and his brother Sugar were taken in by Crops and Harvest, the Farmtale brothers. The latest news - reading Papyri gossip - said that Axe and Crops had something going on between them.

Well, as long as they were happy.

Wait. What was he thinking about?

Right. The mystery that was Sopran and anything surrounding him. At least the question about his LV was answered now.

But everything else...

Maybe they could play 'investigator' a little bit. Find some hints that could help figuring out where Sopran had come from, why he was all alone, and what had happened to him for him being like that.

So... scared of everything. As if he didn't know a lot of things.

Ugh, all this thinking in circles wasn't helping. Maybe Edge had an idea. He could be ignorant or oblivious to things sometimes, but at the same time he was able to see things from a different angle. Seemed to be a typical Papyrus trait.

All this went through his skull while he slowly walked back to the living room. Finding no one there, he heard noises from the kitchen.

There he found Edge, cleaning the cups. His face was that of someone in deep thought.

Red tilted his head, looking at his brother's hands moving on autopilot.

He kept drying the same mug for several minutes. It had something hypnotic about it, the steady repetitive motions.

Red shook himself from his slight trance and collected his thoughts. He finally cleared his throat. "'hem, ya tryin' ta rub the words off or somethin'?", he tried to joke.

It wasn't really funny if he was honest with himself. But it did the trick and pulled Edge back to reality. He jolted a little, almost dropping the mug back in the waterfilled sink. "Oh, Brother. How Is Sopran?"

"exhausted," Red replied truthfully, "if we are lucky he'll sleep 'til dinner and then through the night. stars know he needs it."

Edge nodded as he put the mug away and drained the sink, his glass and the other mug already taken care of. "I Agree. Living On The Streets Must Have Been Taxing On His Reserves. But There Has To Be More To This. Why Has He Become Homeless? And How? There Is Also Still The Mystery Of His Origin."

Red nodded. "yea, was thinkin' about the same thing. any ideas how ta go about it?"

Edge stepped back from the sink, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his face the picture of thoughtfulness. As he approached the doorway, Red backed away into the living room to give way to his brother.

Humming and rumbling while he thought, Edge walked to the couch and sat down. Red followed and let himself fall into the plush recliner, waiting patiently for Edge's input.

Chapter Text

"What If We Introduce Sopran To Sans? He Could Come Here And Sopran Wouldn't Have To Go Out That Way. Maybe Sans Can Find Out Something When He Sees Him Face To Face."

Red mulled this over for a moment. "th' idea is basically good. but with him afraid of anything and everyone, we should wait before we try. an' we should ask sopran if he's cool with it. otherwise he might just panic."

Edge had to admit that his brother had a point. Sopran barely trusted the two of them, bringing in a stranger without warning or dragging them to some unfamiliar place could only end badly. "You Are Right, Brother. What Would You Suggest Then?"

Red stretched like a lazy cat before he began picking his fangs with his claws. "give him some time to rest. he jus' got over a fever, being scared all the time mus' be tirin' too. not ta mention what 'appened today. let 'im get comfortable with us and build some trust. then we can ask how he feels about meeting sans, someone who wants to help him."

Edge wrinkled his brows. "Did You Notice How He Seems Fearful Of Anybody? It May Take Quite Some Time For Him To Get Comfortable With The Idea Of Meeting New People."

Red only shrugged. He was determined to give Sopran as much time as he would need. "then it takes some time. so what? we can't pressure him, trust takes time ta grow. 'm only worried about his health. he's so fragile, a breeze could blow him away..." Red fell into a brooding silence.

Edge watched him, thinking what they were going to do. There also was their work. The thought of Sopran, anxious and scared, alone at home, with only Doomfanger as company didn't sit well with him.

...

"You Are Going To Take Some Time Off From Work," he decided.

That startled Red from his thoughts. "would ya say that again?"

Edge gave him a smug grin, delighted that he surprised his hard to rattle brother. "You Heard Me. As Lazy As You Are It's The Most Logical Thing To Do. You Can Stay At Home And Help Sopran Getting Settled. We Won't Learn Anything About Him When We Don't Interact With Him More. Besides, It Doesn't Feel Right To Leave Him To His Own Devices."

Edge was right, Red knew. He felt the same way. He could help Sopran find his way around their home. Could help with building trust too.

He felt his Soul warm when he pictured himself lounging on the couch watching TV, with Sopran in his arms, trustful and relaxed.

It must have shown on his face, because Edge's smirk grew to a knowing, teasing grin. Fuck.

"Then, It's Decided," Edge said and leaned back.

The following few hours they kept brainstorming ideas of how to find out more about Sopran and how to possibly help him with the issues they already knew about.

Since Sopran's clothes had gotten dirty in the alley again, Red had changed them into one of his shirts again to put the smaller's stuff in the wash, after checking the pockets in case they had brought more than just the headphones. There was nothing tho.

He used the opportunity to pick up some of the dirtier piles of clothing in his room to wash them along with Sopran's.

The load was long done and still warm from the dryer when it was time to wake the tiny bean for dinner.

Red placed the stack of folded clothes, their pants and the oversized anthracite colored sweater with the white symbol on the front and the long off-white scarf, at the end of the bed. Then he kneeled down on the floor next to Sopran and gently shook their shoulder. "hey buddy, time fer dinner. c'mon, wake up, sopran," he said softly to wake, not scare them.

Sopran floated in a limbo of warm darkness. It wasn't scary at all, quite the contrary. They were surrounded by the feeling of safety. Care. Protection.

Something then penetrated the cocooning warm darkness. At first, Sopran couldn't tell what, but then they were sure it was a voice, calling for them.

At first, they tried to ignore it, it was just distant and barely noticable. But the voice was persistent, steadily pulling Sopran from the pleasant abyss towards the waking plane.

If they had their voice, Sopran would have groaned unwillingly as they woke up and became aware of Red softly calling out for them and shaking their shoulder. If it even could be called 'shaking', it was more like him holding their shoulder and make his hand shake a little.

Was he trying that hard to be gentle? If so, then it was kind of endearing. And his scent and voice and aura really made them feel safe.

Fleetingly, they wondered how his singing voice would sound. Would it be as rough and dark as when he spoke? Or would he sound softer when he sang? What kind of music did he like? He didn't seem necessarily like the metal or punk type, maybe more like rock or country, but definitely not anything classic.

Imagine, Red visiting an opera or ballet. The thought had them almost grinning. But maybe they did him wrong in that. Maybe they underestimated him. Even if they still could more likely picture Edge enjoying something people thought of as sophisticated than Red.

Whatever.

Sopran sighed, turned around and slowly blinked their eyes open to face Red.

"hey, sleepyhead," he rumbled softly, "dinner's ready. ya need ta eat."

Sopran nodded and got up, rubbing their eyes and yawning.

"ya wanna change 'fore goin' downstairs? washed yer stuff." Just then did Sopran realize that they were in one of Red's shirts again.

Red saw how they pulled it further down to secretly hide their tail and decided to not draw any attention to it. Instead, he placed their clothes next to them on the bed and turned around to give them some privacy, in case they decided to change. "ya dun have ta," he stammered, a little nervous, "we are going back ta sleep soon anyways. whatever ya are more comfortable with."

Silence. Of course, Sopran was mute, after all. Red didn't really know what to do with himself, he felt a little out of his depth. The talk with Edge came to his mind. "um... mah bro an' i, we talked... 'bout, ya know, what ta do next... we really want ta help ya with... whatever trouble ya are in... dun have ta tell us right away, we know ya just know us fer two days now... and surely needs some time ta settle in here. so, we 'greed on me taking a while off from work ta help ya."

Sopran listened to Red's rambling and felt their nerves going high when he mentioned their troubles. Could he and his brother really protect them? From Baritone? They remembered that he had a way to sway most people in his way. He really was one to capture everyone's attention. Sopran had often heard him through closed doors, talking to others with an easiness and familiarity, it made Sopran's nonexistent stomach churn when they thought about it and about how his demeanor changed whenever he turned his attention to them. Always to hurt them. With words, with touches, with brutality.

Whatever he said or did, it did always hurt in a way-

"sweetheart!"

Red's voice calling out for them pulled Sopran from their spiraling thoughts and made them gasp as they had stopped breathing for a while. They felt their hurting Soul pounding weakly and erratically in their chest, a quite unpleasant sensation. They were trembling and only when Red cupped their face with his big warm hands, became Sopran aware that they were crying, tears running down their cheeks.

"it's 'kay, sweets, yer safe. yer fine. won't let anythin' happen to ya when i can help it."

Chapter Text

It took Sopran a few minutes to get their breathing under control, only succeeding when Red told them to follow his lead and exaggerated his own inhales and exhales.

The moment they lifted their hands, Red gently laid one of his own over their tiny ones. "dun even start wi' that 'i'm sorry' crap, bud. ya have nothin' ta 'pologize fer. ya obviously been through some pretty bad shit an' now we jus' have ta find ya triggers and work through everythin'. mah bro an' i are gonna protect ya. we have a lotta friends who would help jus' like that. without 'esitation. bu' i ge' it that ya are scared, so we take it yer pace. one step at a time. promise as a judge. an' that means something, sweets."

Sopran felt their face growing warm, but without Magic there was no blush coloring their face. Red took the hand he had put over their hands away so they could sign again.

*what, if... what if i won't ever feel ready? To-to face other monsters?*

Red shrugged unbothered. "we'll find a way. monsters are made of magic an' compassion, after all. most of 'em are friendly, ya were only unlucky ta meet some that aren't."

Suddenly he remembered why he had come and woken Sopran. "fuck. boss is waitin' wi' dinner." He gave the folded clothes a glance. "no time for dat. let's go, doll." He got up while he spoke, then picked up a startled Sopran and, without much fanfare, carried them out of the room.

Sopran could only grab the hem of the shirt and hold it down so it wouldn't ride up and expose their tail or pelvis. Doomfanger trotted after them without prompting, his bushy tail held high like a banner.

His loud meow announced the arrival of the smallest procession the world probably ever saw, as they neared the kitchen.

Red sat Sopran down in their usual spot while Doomy marched up to Edge and demanded praise for escorting the other two safely to the food room. He just stood there, tail still upright and proud like a pike, looking up at Edge and uttered a loud and demanding 'Mmrroww!'.

Edge smirked over the cat's strong personality and bowed down to pick him up. "Yes, I Know. You Are The Strongest And Finest Little Predator To Ever Have Walked This Planet. Am I Right, Doomfanger?" The cat gave another meow, if as an answer or just because, only the cat knew.

Sopran had already witnessed Edge talking to Doomy like this, but they didn't know how to feel about it. Edge calling Doomfanger evil, mean or a predator, even if uttered in an obviously affectionate manner, reminded them of the street cats. Those had been really mean. Doomfanger was eons away from that.

Edge sat Doomfanger down in front of his already filled food bowls and brought the plates with their dinner to the table.

Pasta again, Sopran recognized. This time the noodles were broader bands, in a white-ish sauce with something dark green in it that looked like some kind of leafy vegetable.

It tasted delicious, even if Sopran ranked the lasagna from the first night higher. On the other hand, they didn't have a clear memory of that night, with their fever and everything. And of course they would savor any freshly cooked meal after living off of food scraps from dumpsters for around two weeks. If they got anything at all.

They zoned in on the conversation between the brothers when Edge said their name. "nah," Red replied to whatever Edge had asked, "not directly. tol' him we 'ave friends we can ask fer help with whatever." Edge hummed. "It Would Be Going A Little Fast To Go To Sans Right Away. We Will Postpone It. Let Us Focus On The Healing For Now."

And that was that. Whatever exactly this was about, Sopran wouldn't have to deal with it for now.

After dinner, Sopran offered to do the dishes, but was friendly brushed off by Edge who said they were the guest and that it was fine.

*I want to help you*, they insisted. They couldn't just leech on the brothers' hospitality, they weren't used to things just being given to them. Until now, they always had to work, struggle and suffer for everything. They got some faint scars from fighting feral cats over food scraps.

"ya can come with me and figure out something 'portant, sweets," Red said. Sopran turned their gaze to him. *something important?*

Red nodded and lead them to the living room to sit on the couch. Sopran hesitated, still not sure if it really was okay to sit on the furniture. Red sighed, sad at how unsure Sopran seemed about every little thing. "come here, ya can sit wherever ya want, whenever ya want. no one's ever gonna shoo ya 'way. if de furball is allowed on de seats then it's a given that ya are too.

bu' tha's not what i wanna talk about," he continued as Sopran, still careful like they were walking a minefield, made the last steps to the couch and climbed on it a little clumsily, because they're so small.

When they looked at him, giving him their full attention, he got to the point. "where do ya wanna sleep?"

Sopran didn't understand what Red was aiming for. *what do you mean?*

Fearing to make Sopran upset with an unlucky choice of words, he tried to explain. "look, since yer stay will be more on de long-term side, we have ta figure out what we are gonna do. we have a guestroom ya can have as a space of your own, for however long ya are gonna stay. i dun mind ya continue sleepin' in mah bed when it makes ya feel better, bu' ya maybe wanna have a place ta retreat ta sometimes. had mah places in da unnergroun' an' have 'em up here. what do ya say?"

Sopran didn't know what to think. It wouldn't be like with Baritone, would it? With the door locked from outside? They felt themself getting worked up again and fiddled with the hem of their oversized shirt. They knew Red meant well and would never do anything bad to them. At least he hadn't so far, and they knew, on the surface, but the bad memories had deeper roots and they couldn't help it.

Red noticed something was off again and raked his brain to come up with something to derail Sopran's train of bad thoughts before it could lead to another panic attack. "wanna see it? ya dun have ta enter."

That seemed to halt their anxiety. He hadn't lied to them before. Okay, he and Edge had played that trick on them, but they had a reason to.

Sopran didn't want to be a bother for Red, they shouldn't hog his bed. Better try and get comfortable in the guestroom, when the brothers were so kind to house them. They took a deep breath and nodded, they would at least try to sleep in the other room, even if they would miss the sense of safety and protection they got from Red's scent.

Red's features softened to an understanding smile. "let's go then. if ya dun like it, ya can still sleep in mah room, doll." Sopran couldn't look at him, feeling their face heating up once more, and nodded shyly. They followed Red down the hallway, passing Edge's, then Red's room and the bathroom, reaching the last door.

The first thing, Sopran noticed, there was no lock on the outside. So, they couldn't be locked in. That was good, they thought.

Red reached out, grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. The door opened with a soft 'click'. "boss keeps everythin' in top condition, even de things we dun use." He pushed the door open and Sopran saw a room, similar to Red's, only without the signs of inhabition.

"jus' gimme a sec," mumbled Red as he stepped further into the room and, after checking the sheets, began to strip the bed. He threw everything in a laundry basket next to the open closet door and then left with a hasty "be right back". He returned only moments later with fresh sheets and made the bed. "the other stuff wasn't really used or such, jus' stale an' dusty, because we never changed 'em."

Sopran didn't know what to think. Red was so thoughtful, going out of his way to make the bed for the smaller monster. They could have done it themself, he'd just had to tell them where to find fresh sheets.

While Red was still busy, Sopran looked around the room. It was clean and well ventilated, decently furnished, the bed, a dresser and a desk with a chair. The closet was empty and on the floor was a thick carpet. Sopran looked at the door. They knew there was no lock on the outside, now they wanted to check the inside. There was a lock, that meant they could lock others out if they wanted...

They hoped they wouldn't have to here. They wanted for the safety to be true, wanted to trust the brothers. It was still hard for them.

Red pulled Sopran from their thoughts before they could get too anxious, "there, done. now, we only have ta get yer stuff here. do ya wanna wait here or come wi' me?"

*if it's okay... i'd like to join you* Red shrugged unbothered. "sure, whatever makes ya comfortable." He slowly sauntered out of the door, giving Sopran enough time to muster up the courage and follow him.

Back in Red's room, he picked up the stack of their clothes for them and turned back towards the shy monster. He put his free arm gently around their shoulders and lead them back to the guestroom. "i get it that ya are scared, munchkin, bu' ya dun have ta. not wi' us. if anythin' should come up dun hesitate ta come ta us. even if ya have ta wake us, we won't get angry at ya or shit. we wan' ta help ya. dunno if ya feel safer 'lone or wi' me, but 'm proud a ya fer trying ta sleep on yer own in a new place. can be scary, we know that.

when we came to da surface, we didn't know what ta expect. surely not some weird alternate versions of our own. and there came more an' more o'er time. whatever, what i want ta say is, everything was new to us an' we didn't know how to act up here. our alternates helped a lot with that an' we learned ta accept de more friendly ways an' de peace up here. ya can too, i know it. jus' give it some time.

an' dun be shy ta ask fer help. got it?"

Sopran nodded meekly and lifted their hands. *i... i will try.*

Red tightened his hold around their shoulders a little in a reassuring manner. "dat's everythin' i ask of ya."

They had reached the guestroom by now and Red let go of Sopran and placed their clothes on the end of the bed.

"gettin' late. i'll give ya some space to settle down." He looked Sopran straight in their small eye lights and put his hands on their shoulders. "even in case ya dun like bein' alone an' feel de need ta come ta me tonight, no matter de time, i'm very proud of ya fer tryin'.

welp. i'll go back ta mah own room then. g'night, munchkin."

Sopran signed a *good night* back and watched him leave, pulling the door close, but leaving it a bit ajar.

Chapter Text

For several minutes, Sopran just stood there, even as Red's receeding steps had gone silent. They took a deep breath and looked around the room again. It looked a little cold. Unpersonal.

On the other hand, their old home, before they had lived on the streets, hadn't felt like a home at all to them, with their father always punishing them for things they didn't know how they were wrong, always reminding them that they were nothing, and whoever they'd turn to for help would use them the same way their father did. And there would be no other to blame than Sopran themself.

But. Neither Red nor Edge had tried anything so far. The only scary moments had been when they met Red for the first time, two nights ago - was it really just two nights? - and when Edge found them in the living room. Sopran understood now that Edge had been as startled as them.

But the two had taken Sopran into their cozy home and were trying to help them, even if they still had no idea, not really, how. Maybe Red was right, one step at a time. Sopran wasn't on the streets anymore and had a safe place to stay and good food to get their strength back. That was something, right?

Right.

They eyed their clothes and decided to stay in the shirt for the night.

The small skeleton folded back the heavy comforter and slipped under the soft thick blanket. The smell of laundry detergent engulfed them. A trace of that scent had clung to Red's bed, but here it was stronger, fresher. It was a little unfortunate that Red's scent was missing.

Sopran sighed and turned around, pulling the comforter over themself. It would be okay.

They closed their eyes and exhaustion from the day's events rolled over them like a tidal wave and pulled them into the depths of sleep, not even noticing how Doomfanger jumped onto the bed and curled up on the pillow, next to Sopran's head.

"You shouldn't have done that and you know it. Or at least, one could assume you knew by now." The slap prickled and burned hot on Sopran's cheek. They knew there would be a hand shaped mark for the next days. It wouldn't be the first time. And surely not the last.

"Even if it's just Tenor, you are not supposed to show anybody. You are lucky he's too young to understand, but you have to be punished for this." He pulled his wallet from his pocket and held it in front of their face. They gulped, and then opened their mouth to have the thick leather roughly shoved between their teeth. They knew what was coming and as soon as their father let go of the wallet, they turned their back to him and pulled of the striped shirt they wore, baring their small back.

Their breath hitched as they heard the quiet clink of their father's belt buckle and the muted hiss when the long leather strip was pulled through the loops. They braced themself, awaiting the inevitable.

"Don't. *Crack* Do. *Crack* That. *Crack* Ever. *Crack* Again. *Crack*"

They bit down hard and swallowed hard to keep their cries in, knowing that every noise would earn them two additional strikes.

Their father paused in his lashing. "Did i make myself clear?" The dark promise of more heavy in his voice.

Without turning around or making any sound, Sopran hastily nodded, tears rolling down their small cheeks. They knew this wasn't over yet. Not after only five strikes.

"I hope so," the big man growled, then lifted the hand holding the folded belt by its ends.

The lashing resumed. Sopran lost any sense of time, only aware of the cracking each time the belt made contact with their body, their ecto, which hurt even more. What probably was his intention.

When Sopran came back to their senses, they were alone, around them nothing but darkness, echoing with the things their father always told them. 'Worthless' 'Weak' 'Trash' 'Failure' 'Pathetic' 'Freak'

"Sweetheart!"

That wasn't their father...

That voice was rough, but warm.

It felt safe.

They turned to that voice and followed its beckoning as it kept calling. They were drawn to it like a moth to the light.

The taunting echoes stayed behind and got faint until they were completely silent. Sopran kept following the warm voice, calling them all kinds of names. Different names than their father. These names sounded soft, friendly. Almost... was 'affectionate' the right word? They made Sopran feel warm on the inside.

After a while, they became aware of a new presence. As if something small was following- no... kind of circling them, sometimes behind, sometimes in front of them, or at one of their sides, moving closer, only to let itself fall back a few steps.

Sopran didn't know how long they walked, when they reached the source of the voice, welcoming them with a warm embrace. Sopran let themself sink into this warmth and felt the small presence join them.

A pleasant abyss of oblivion opened and swallowed them.

Red felt the real deep sleep slip away when his subconscious sensed something moving close by. It wasn't enough to wake him up completely, though. When he felt no ill intent, only a shy yearning for safety and protection, his mind relaxed and he was pulled back under by sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, he felt a little confused, even if he couldn't pinpoint what exactly was out of place. His still half-asleep mind tried to take stock of the situation and to remember what shouldn't be like it was right now.

He was in his own bed. Check.

He was uninjured and dressed in his nightclothes, an oversized t-shirt and sweatshorts. Check.

He remembered Edge telling him to stay home, meaning Edge wouldn't drag him out of bed. Check.

A fluffy tail slapped him leisurely in the face. Doomfanger.

...

Wait, what?

Why was that meowing menace sleeping in his bed? Hadn't he stayed with Sopran?

The same instant, this question crossed his mind, he felt something move right next to him, cuddling into his side. A small, warm boney body.

Sopran.

How did he get here? Didn't he stay in the other room? Careful, to not wake the other, Red rolled around to look at his tiny charge.

There he was, curled up and pressed as close as possible into Red's side. The bigger monster immediately noticed the tear tracks leading down the other's face. Did he have a nightmare? Or had he woken up scared to tears and then snuck into Red's bed because he was too scared to stay alone?

Welp. Red surely wouldn't get an answer as long as Sopran was asleep. But he didn't want to wake him when he so obviously needed rest. And why not sleeping in a little more?

"Mmrroww!"

Right.

Doomfanger meowed again, more insistend.

"yea, yea. heard ya ya fleabag," Red grumbled, "dun wake 'im." He got up carefully, tucked Sopran in more tightly to imitate the pressure of his body against him at least partly. Still sleepy, he waddled towards the door and left the room.

Doomfanger watched him closely, only getting up and following when he was sure Red was leaving to feed him. He took an easy looking, big leap over Sopran's still peaceful sleeping form and landed with his soft, silent paws on the carpet like a speck of falling mist.

"show-off," rumbled Red, who watched the display, under his breath. Doomfanger looked up at him, almost seeming smug, lifted his tail and swaggered past him towards the door.

Red huffed unimpressed and let himself and the cat out into the hallway, to make way to the kitchen. He reminded himself of leaving the door ajar to not risk making Sopran feeling trapped.

When he entered the kitchen, Doomfanger was already there, inspecting his dishes to see if they had already refilled by some miracle. Red wasn't surprised that Edge hadn't already prepared food for the furball, he wanted his precious furry baby to eat as fresh as possible and whenever Red stayed home while not being bedbound, it would be on him to feed Doomfanger.

Doomfanger knew this routine too by now, it hadn't happened very often before, only on a handful occasions, like when he broke his leg on the job and couldn't work for some weeks, or when in heat. Or the one time he caught a bug that messed with his Magic. On those occasions, it always had fallen on him to make sure the cat was fed. The first few times, Edge left notes for Red as a reminder, but it wasn't needed anymore now. It was an unspoken given.

Doomfanger meowed in demand while sitting in front of his empty dishes. "ya know da rules, hairball," Red drawled, "bipeds first, then four-legged. ya know dat." With that he inspected the fridge to see if Edge had left breakfast for him and Sopran before going to work. He found a sticky note on one of the plastic containers with leftovers. He took it to read his bro's neat sharp-angled writing.

'Brother, Please Make Sure To Make Something Healthy For You And Sopran. The Leftovers Are For Lunch. Have A Nice Day. Edge' next to his name, Edge had scribbled his own face with a smirk.

This was so Edge. Breakfast just had to be as freshly made as possible, but for some reason it was fine to eat leftovers for lunch, or even dinner. If that was Edge's take on the whole 'most important meal of the day' saying, Red never found a clear answer. And he wouldn't question his brother about food, he was just too damn good of a cook.

Blowing a relaxed sigh through his nose hole, Red took from the fridge what he needed for filled omelets and placed everything on the counter. With a casual movement he flicked on the kitchen radio before opening drawers and cupboards to get the utensils needed. The radio gave out news and weather, commercials and then music.

While working, Red began humming along to the music, sometimes even singing when he knew the lines.

Sopran woke up, surrounded by the feeling of safety and warmth. They stretched and opened their eyes, freezing as they realized something was off. But what?

They looked around, then it hit them. This was Red's room. But they had went to sleep in the other room. How did they get here? And why? Had Red brought them here?

Sopran had no idea. They only remembered going to sleep in the guestroom and having a nightmare. That's all.

They heard something from somewhere outside the room, just now noticing the door was open. Sopran slowly got up and peered outside. They heard what perhaps was the radio in the kitchen. They looked up and down the hallway, then made their way back to the other room.

They found the door wide open and their blanket half hanging from the bed. One of the pillows was laying on the floor. They rubbed their face, sleepy and confused, then went to change into their own clothes. With their headphones placed around their neck, the scarf carefully folded and put into a drawer, they left the room again and headed for the kitchen.

As they drew closer, Sopran heard some song ending and blending into the next. A deep, rough voice hummed to the intro, then began SINGING.

"Restless heart, it has been a long time
Out here on the journey, for a glimpse of paradise
It's getting hard to find a place to go
Where peaceful waters flow."

They stopped at the doorway, staring in disbelief as they realized it was Red who was singing.

"I took a walk past the old saxon well
Down by the cathedral, I heard the chapel bell
And joined the people singing for a way to go
Where peaceful waters flow."

Now Sopran had their answer to how Red's singing voice sounded.

"And if you don't know by now, you never will
Only love can find the door
If you could see it now, it's in your hands
Only love can reach the shore, to heaven."

It sounded like nothing, Sopran had ever heard before. As far as they knew, none of the monsters of their own world had such a rough voice. On the other hand, what did they know about their own world? Only what Tenor and Baritone had told them.

"Always, she is standing by my side
She's my inspiration, and she's my battle-cry
And in her arms is the only place I know
Where peaceful waters flow."

He had a voice like bedrock in summer, rough and strong and sun-warmed. Of course, he never had any kind of musical education, no singing lessons. But Sopran decided that they liked Red's amateurish singing more than the polished professionalism in trained, educated one.

"And if you don't know by now, you never will
Only love can find the door
If you could see it now, it's in your hands
Only love can reach the shore, forever more
Where peaceful waters flow."

Red's voice did things to them, they didn't understand. They wanted to hear more of it. If they hadn't lost their voice, they sure would have given in and joined Red's singing, since it was the way monsters from their world got familiar and formed any kinds of bonds with others.

They still stood rooted to the floor, in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

Chapter Text

The nice song ended and the voice behind the mic announced the name of the song and its singer and then answered calls for song wishes and greetings of fans. While the radio blared, Red turned half around to reach for some vegetables to cut up, when he caught Sopran standing in the doorway from the corner of his eye socket.

He froze. In the first two or three years on the surface, Red and Edge would had reflexively lashed out, throwing either whatever was at hand or attacks. They had to renovate their place several times during those early years. Fortunately those years were ways in the past and Red only froze up and counted in his head to ten until his racing Soul had calmed down and his mind could comprehend what had startled him.

Sopran. Just Sopran, who stood there, silent as ever. Stood there and looked at him with an unsure expression. Slowly, he realized the other must have heard him sing, and that thought let the heat of a bright red blush burn his face.

A few awkward seconds stretched between them to an uncomfortable silence. Until Doomfanger broke the tension by jumping from his feeding spot and running up to Sopran to greet them with an enthusiastic meow.

Red, still awkward, cleared his throat and resumed his work on breakfast. "uh, slept well?", he asked to steer any conversation away from his singing before it could even start.

Sopran looked up and when Red looked at them, signed a reply. *very good, thank you... i think*, their answer was insecure. *how... how did i get into your bed? I know, i fell asleep in the guestroom.*

Red looked at them a little confused. "no idea. ya dun remember?" Sopran shook their head. *only that... that i had a nightmare*, they confessed.

"wanna talk 'bout it?", Red offered. Sopran considered if they should throw Red a bone, but then just shook their head. *i would prefer not to, i'm sorry*

But Red just smiled a little sad, but understanding. "it's fine, doll. ya dun have ta tell if ya not feelin' ready. jus' know ya can always come ta me or edge whenever ya feel ready or need ta get somethin' off of yer chest." Sopran nodded at that. Red copied the nod and then once more noticed Doomfanger by Sopran's feet.

He got an idea.

"hey, sweetheart, ya wanna feed de cat? 'e seems ta like ya." Sopran gave him an unsure glance. *i don't know how*, they admitted. Red smiled and waved them off. "dat's no witchcraft, doll. i show ya." He used blue Magic to pull a chair to the counter as a step for his tiny alternate and motioned for them to come over. They followed his patient beckoning and let him help them up onto the chair.

He showed them where the cat food was stored and guided them through each step of measuring the cat kibble and opening the small cans with portioned wet food and showed them which went onto which saucer and how to wash out and fill the flat water bowl.

Doomfanger watched intently, as if to make sure Red instructed his new best snuggle buddy correctly. If Sopran made a mistake it would be on the bigger Sans.

When the skeletons were done and pulled back from Doomfanger's dishes, the tom sauntered up to Sopran and affectionately bumped heads with them and rubbed his back and tail under their chin before he turned his attention to his breakfast, ignoring Red completely. "cats," he rumbled without much heat behind it.

Red returned to his cooking, finishing up their omelets. "told ya 'e likes ya a great deal. if ya like, ya can feed him every day. would be a lotta help fer me." Sopran perked up from where they were watching Doomfanger eat. Was Red serious? They could prove themself useful that way.

*I will give my best. Promise,* they signed. *i don't want to disappoint you.* Red scrunched his face up in a goodnatured grin. "dun sweat it, doll. it's jus' feedin' de cat. can show ya what else ya can do with 'im. ya know, groomin' an' playin'."

Sopran looked up at him astonished. *there's so many to do with a cat?* They never thought there could be so much to the scruffy, dirty and aggressive beasts they had to deal with on the streets. Where those really the same as spoiled fluffy Doomy? Should they ask?

They were pulled from their musings when Red set the table and called for them to eat. Sopran shoved the chair back to the table and climbed in their seat. They took the first bite and their expression brightened.

Red saw it and smirked. "i take it ya like mah cookin'?" Sopran swallowed their mouthful, put their silverware down to have their hands free and signed *it's delicious. I can't cook even half as good.* "why, thanks, sweetheart. bu' it's nothin' special, jus' some filled omelets. could teach ya. if ya want."

Sopran nervously lowered their eyes, not knowing how to get Red off that idea without getting into trouble for appearing ungrateful.

Sopran felt nervous sweat beading on their skull, their hands began to shake and their breath got shallow. They weren't aware their lights had gone out.

Red knew he said something wrong when he witnessed this. "doll? sweetheart!?" But the panicking monster didn't react.

"sopran!" Seriously worried about the other, Red reached for Sopran and gently cupped their cheeks with his big warm hands. At that and the exclamation of their name, Sopran jumped, their attention jerked back to reality.

Eye sockets still dark, they started signing with hands that shook too much to make out anything aside from the occasional *sorry*. Red sighed, worried Sopran would get sick again from stressing so much and feeling for the poor thing. He pulled the still almost weightless skeleton into his lap and hugged them close. "it's 'kay, sweets. everythin's fine, ya're fine. no one's gonna hurtcha if i can help it."

He exaggerated his breathing to help Sopran getting their own breath under control. While he listened to the smaller monster coming down from their hyperventilating, he thought about what might have set off the little troubled Soul. "sorry, if i said somethin' dat made ya uncomfortable. if ya dun like somethin' er are scared, please tell me. ya dun have ta worry ta get into any trouble fer saying anythin'."

Sopran felt like an idiot. Red had told them so many times already, but they just didn't seem able to get the message into their stupid skull. Not enough to keep it together.

They felt a light flick to their forehead, snapping them back out again. Red looked at them with a calm, patient and worried expression. Sopran couldn't look away. They were astonished how such an intimidating face could look so caring and gentle. "can ya tell me?", he asked again, his voice conveying all his care and boundless patience.

They took a moment to collect their thought and get the shaking of their hands in check. With another deep inhale they began tiptoeing through an explanation. *i... don't want to disappoint you... you have been nothing but nice to me... while i... i've been nothing but trouble to you... i can be useful. i want to help you... but i... c-cooking isn't for me, i'm afraid. i'm sorry...* Tears started trailing down their face.

Red gently thumbed the tears away, wondering if he always had this urge to help and protect another one in such distress. "it's fine, doll. if ya dun like cookin' ya dun have ta do it. an' if ya wanna help, really wanna help, there's other thin's ya can do. do ya understand, doll?"

Sopran nodded hesitantly. *what... what kind of things?*

Red smiled and patted their cheek. "ya're still healin'. so let's keep it easy fer now, like takin' care of da cat or ya could help me around my workshop."

*workshop?*, Sopran asked. Red nodded and pulled Sopran's plate next to his own. "like ta tinker in mah free time, bu' 'm ta lazy ta keep any semblance of order in mah shit. ya know, tools 'n parts 'n papers. boss 's naggin' me ta clean it up fer ever now."

*i can try*, Sopran responded and Red's soft smile grew proud. "know ya can, doll. bu' before we take on anythin' else, let's finish breakfast first."

Sopran nodded and resumed eating, Red watching them from the corner of his eye while he cleared his own plate.

After doing the dishes together, Red showed Sopran where Doomfanger's grooming articles were kept. He was a little wary, thinking about how pissy the feline became everytime it fell upon him to brush the fluffy beast. He hoped the furball would keep being docile with Sopran, like he had been so far.

Red got a small trash bag from the kitchen for the brushed out fur, then joined Sopran, who had already settled on the floor with the cat in their lap and the brushes and combs next to them.

He explained how to use the different kinds of combs and brushes and how Edge showed him to handle the cat. To Red's surprise, even being brushed had the furry menace purring and lax in Sopran's lap. Even Edge got a taste of Doomfanger's claws and temper sometimes during their grooming sessions.

But with Sopran the cat was endlessly patient and allowed them to do whatever.

It took about an hour to thoroughly de-shed and brush the thick fur, but the result was a Doomfanger kitty cloud. Red took a pic and sent it to his bro with the caption 'weather got cloudy'. Then he showed his charge how to clean the utensils and put them away.

Sopran's gaze landed on the trashbag with the brushed out fur. They tapped Red's arm to get his attention and when he looked at them, signed *what happens to the fur in the bag?*. Red looked at the fluff and then gave them a relaxed smile. "de farmtale tori makes yarn outta it an' knits neat stuff. edge got a nice sweater last year. 's like de sheepwool, ya know. y'can use de brushed out fur from any animal dat's fluffy 'nough."

Sopran nodded. They had heard about sheep.

Chapter Text

It was a memory from not too long after getting to the surface.

Tenor was still making a name for himself on the surface, promoting his first album, actually. For a concert, he had to spend the night out of town and was offered a stay on a farm. When he came back the next day, he ecstatically told Sopran about all the animals and how nice of a place the farm was and that it was run by Crops and Harvest, the Farmtale brothers. Apparently, the two had taken in another pair, Axe and Sugar, but Tenor found them a little unsettling. He had been polite about it and didn't show, but he said to Sopran how lucky they were to never have to deal with famine or violence.

At that point Sopran's smile had gotten a little strained. But they hadn't said anything about it, only agreed that some alternates had it quite worse.

And wasn't that true? Some of the other worlds were violent by default, everyone could have an interest to end you. And who knew what horrible things those monsters had experienced that were way worse than what Sopran had went through. Had they even the right to be so broken about it? Or was this only more proof of their worthlessness?

A soft tap to their nosebone had them jolt back to the present. They blinked and tried to understand what just had happened. A loud meow answered that question. Doomy sat in front of them, head tilted and one paw raised as if to tap Sopran again if he deemed it necessary.

"ya wi' us again?", Red asked, "ya spaced out fer a few minutes." Sopran nodded. *my brother once visited a farm. He liked it.*

Red tilted his head like Doomfanger had before. "jus' yer brother? ya din go wi' him?" Sopran shook their head. "tha' means ya never saw any farm animals yerself before?" Again, they shook their head. They didn't elaborate, didn't want to give away too much or say the wrong thing.

"would ya like ta? see de animals, i mean," Red offered. Sopran looked up at him and the small shy glimmer of interest in their eyes told him everything. He smiled. "jus' lemme make a call an' we can go tamorrow. at this time of the year most of de animals have their babies. 's perfect."

That had Sopran intrigued. Tenor hadn't seen any baby animals on his stay at the farm. At least he hadn't mentioned any. But there was one thing that made them nervous. *you won't leave me alone there, would you?*

Red put his arm around Sopran and pulled them closer. "course not. i'll stay wi' ya de whole time." They smiled. *thank you. I think, i would like to see the farm then.*

"sure," Red grinned, "jus' lemme make dat call." He got up and scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he had named 'haystack'. He knew, some of his alternates had him under nicknames as well. He tapped the green phone symbol and listened to the 'doot's when the phone on the other end was ringing. With a cracking noise Red's call was accepted.

"hey, crops. actually, yeah, i woul' like ta come over ta show mah new friend yer farm. he never been to one 'fore. an' 'e likes animals."

"dun think so. sans dunno 'em an' he knows everyone. the name's sopran an' 'e's been through some shit. edge an' i are tryin' ta help him."

"yea. mebbe dat's better. lil guy's quite skittish around strangers. we'll come over tomorrow, then."

"bye. an' thanks a lot."

With that, Red disconnected the call and put his phone away.

He looked at Sopran, who was examining Doomfanger's paw pads and petting his ears, the cat playfully bapping at the skeleton's hands. Red thought.

Was there a reason that he hadn't went with his brother to visit the farm? Usually, Papyri tended to drag their brothers with them whenever they tried out something new or went new places, to share the experience. Was this somehow connected to whatever made Sopran so shy and fearful? Considering what was known about him so far, it was a big step for the shortstack to get excited instead of terrified at the prospect of going out and meeting new people.

Maybe this could be a step for Sopran to warm up to the idea of meeting Sans? Welp, whatever. Now he had other things planned for the day.

Red got the cat toys out and gave Sopran a small ball to throw for Doomy. Sopran did as told, threw the ball across the living room, making it bounce off the hardwood floor.

Doomfanger shot after it like a bullet. He ran after the ball, smacked it with his paw and made it bounce high and jumped after it. Sopran grinned at the silly display and huffed their silent laughs.

Red felt a buzzing warmth in his Soul at the sight. After the smaller had been stressed out so much it was a nice change to see him relaxed and happy, unbothered by whatever shit was going on in his life.

"hey, sweetheart. wanna see de furball go up de walls?" With these words, Red showed Sopran a laserpointer and made Doomfanger hunting after the red glowing dot, zooming through the whole room and literally jumping up the walls in his attempt at catching the laser dot. To grant Doomy his hunting success, he used the light to make him attack an unconspicious toy fish that started flapping its tail as soon as the cat jumped on it.

Sopran watched with wide eye sockets as the fluffy tornado rolled on the floor and wrestled the fish, holding it in his front paws and kicking it with the hind legs.

When the cat had enough for now, he let go of the toy and rolled around on the carpet, the toy forgotten.

Sopran drummed their fingers on the floor and the tippy-tappy noise it made got Doomfanger's attention. Crawling on his belly, pushing himself forward with his strong hind legs, he pawed at his new bestie's fingers, stretching his neck to bring his nose closer and sniffing and licking the thin phalanges. He gently wrapped his dagger like teeth around the bones, before letting go and licking them again.

It didn't go unnoticed how Sopran tensed when Doomfanger nibbled their phalanges, but Red chose to not comment at it. Especially not as Sopran instantly relaxed when Doomfanger didn't bite down but let go and licked the hand.

He handed Sopran a few cat treats and showed him how to give them.

After that, Sopran and Doomy cuddled up on the couch while Red went to the kitchen to warm up the leftovers for lunch. While he was at it, he made some instant chocolate pudding for dessert.

They did the dishes together and then got comfy on the couch again. With Doomfanger in their lap and leaning comfortably against Red, Sopran let their thoughts wander.

This was so nice, they hoped this would last as long as possible. Red had promised they were safe and could stay for how long ever. Edge had said so too. They probably shouldn't wish for being allowed to stay forever, that didn't feel right to them. But Red seemed to enjoy their company? Hopefully?

Red yawned sleepy and put an arm around Sopran's waist. Sopran didn't tense up. Instead they melted into the touch and could only agree with Doomfanger as the cat began to purr.

The small skeleton thought about their day so far, all the new things they had done today, and Red had said they would visit a farm and see all kinds of animals and their babies.

But... a farm meant people... didn't it? Red felt them go tense again and opened one of his eyes after he had closed both to doze a little. "wha' izzit, doll?", he drawled softly to not disturb the quiet around them.

Sopran turned to him and signed, *will there be people at the farm?* At that question, Red sat up a little to have a proper conversation with the other. "course there will. bu' it's jus' good ol' crops. th' others will be in town tomorrow, and crops is nice. 's a sans like us, took de horror-bros in, a real bleedin' heart. when he sees ya, he'll prolly try ta stuff ya wi' his amazin' cookin'."

Sopran listened intently. *could you... tell me more? About Crops? And the others?*

Red relaxed at that, it meant Sopran still wanted to try. "sure, doll. now, where ta start. lemme think..."

And so they spent the afternoon, Red telling stories about the Farmtale-brothers and the Horror-bros and then some, and Sopran listening with interest, getting eager for more after the first bits and getting less nervous about meeting Crops.

Chapter Text

When Edge got home in the late afternoon and found Red and Sopran lazing about on the sofa and watching TV, he was about to reprimand his brother to not infect their tiny guest with his laziness, but decided against it, he didn't want to risk scaring the skittish skeleton with his fake-harsh words.

So he just announced his return, "Brother, Sopran, I Am Home." Red replied without taking his eyes from the screen. "welcome home, bro. how was yer day?"

"The Usual. Did You Do Something Else Besides Turning My Cat Into A Cloud?"

Red grinned to himself. "showed sopran 'ow ta entertain yer lil demon. an' talked. gonna visit crops tamorrow ta show 'em de animals. de others aren't there."

Edge had rounded the couch while he listened to his brother and sat down on the other end from where Red and Sopran lounged, Doomfanger curled up in Sopran's lap.

"And You Are Really Comfortable With Meeting Someone New?" Sopran looked at Edge and nodded with certainty. *i can't hide from the world forever and Red says that Crops is nice.*

Edge smiled. "Indeed, He Is A Very Nice And Caring Monster. And He Treats His Animals Well. We Got Doomfanger From Him. He Just Weren't A Typical Farm Cat With His Long Fur. We Clicked And I Asked Crops If I Could Take Doomfanger Home. Crops Said Yes And That Is How I Got My Trustworthy Minion." That calmed Sopran's nerves further.

Edge sat with them for a while and watched TV, unwinding a little before he would go to the kitchen and prepare dinner.

Afterwards he took a shower while Red and Sopran did the dishes once more. They watched a movie before going to bed and when Edge retired to his room, Red asked his little alternate, "ya wanna sleep in mah room or try de guestroom again?"

Sopran pondered this for a moment. *i would like to try to sleep alone again. I don't want to bother you all the time.*

"whatever ya want, doll. bu' ya won't bother me at all." Sopran nodded and gave Red a small grateful smile. They signed a *thank you and good night* and went to the guestroom.

~~~

Red felt something was off, even in the depths of sleep. Slowly he pulled himself from the plane of sleep and to the wake world. As soon as he was aware enough, he felt a certain smaller body pressed to him and trembling.

With a muted sigh he carefully wrapped an arm around the fragile form and began rubbing gentle circles into Sopran's back. He felt small hands grabbing his shirt tightly and a skull buried itself in his chest. It took only moments before the first sniffles and soft sobs disturbed the silence. Red kept rubbing Sopran's back, staying quiet, because he wasn't sure if the other was awake or crying in his sleep.

After a while Sopran calmed down and Red allowed himself to doze off again.

He woke up in the morning to Sopran looking around, visibly confused. He yawned and stretched lazily, then gave the tiny Sans a soft smile. "sleepwalked again? 'nother nightmare?" His tone was understanding.

Sopran looked up at him with an expression like a kicked puppy and nodded. Red nodded back. "wanna talk 'bout it?" Sopran shook their head no at that and tried to hide in Red's chest again. Red allowed it and hid them with his embrace.

"'s fine, sweetheart. 'm proud a ya tha' ya try." They stayed like that for a while and basked in the peaceful silence that filled the Fell-brothers' home.

They only got up when Doomfanger demanded his breakfast. They decided to forgo changing clothes for now and went straight for the kitchen. While Red made pancakes with cut up fruit, Sopran prepared Doomfanger's food.

After breakfast, Red showed Sopran to the bathroom to wash up before changing into their own clothes while Red went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

Self-conscious about their appearance, Sopran locked the bathroom door before turning on the shower to have the water warm up and undress. They stepped in the shower and washed away sweat and grime, being careful about some areas of their bones and their tail. They remembered that Red had changed them out of their soaked clothes and into one of his own shirts that first night. He must have seen their tail. What were his thoughts about it? He hadn't said anything so far.

With a sigh they curled their tail around their femur and put on their clothes.

They waited on the sofa, cuddling with Doomy, while Red took a quick shower of his own. When he got back from his room, Sopran noticed he was wearing jeans, t-shirt and a red and black jacket with a fluffy hood. He looked good in it, like some kind of bad boy, strong but also attractive. Sopran felt their face growing warm and were grateful that they hadn't the Magic to blush.

Oblivious to Sopran's mushy feelings, Red offered his hand with a warm smile. "ya ready, doll?", he asked. Sopran nodded and took his hand. Red pulled them close and lead them both through a shortcut.

The change in scenery was overwhelming for Sopran. They knew the places outside the town only from Tenor's stories. There were no tall buildings nor busy streets, only open fields, a lot of green and an endless blue sky. They looked around and saw a few buildings and fences, grass, trees and other plants and living creatures inside the fences.

The bark of a dog startled Sopran and had them turn around with a scared gasped.

A big hound with short spotted fur and long, floppy ears came bounding towards them from the direction of the house. It bayed in a more high-pitched voice, the single barks bordering on howls.

Red kept his cool. Completely unimpressed he fixated the dog with his gaze and then barked, "cujo! off!" The canine immediately stopped and... just stood there. Looking at them with his head tilted, his tongue out and panting softly in excitement. His long, thin tail waved in a slow motion behind him.

"sorry, sweets. cujo is a good boi and wouldn't hurt a fly, bu' he ge's excited pre'y easy," Red explained the dog's behavior. He made a shooing motion with his hand. "scram, cujo. where's crops?" At hearing his master's name, the dog perked, then turned around and ran back the same path he had come.

Red pressed his hand a little tighter around Sopran's waist in reassurance and lead them the way the dog had run off.

They reached the house, where a stocky skeleton in a flannell shirt and overalls and with a straw hat awaited them. His eye lights were a soft green and he gave them a welcoming smile.

That must be Crops, Sopran thought. At least he looked as friendly as Red had described him. They tried to keep their nerves in check, but it was hard. If it wasn't for Red's assuring hold on them, they surely would have lost it and ran.

"Howdy, Red. Howdy bud, you must be Sopran? Red told me you like animals and would like to see my farm. Nice to have you." His voice had the lilt typical for the countryside and a warm tone that melted some of Sopran's fear.

*H-hello, Crops, nice to m-meet you too. I... i hope, we are not bothering you with our visit?* Since Crops didn't understand hands, Red translated Sopran's signing for him.

The friendly farmer waved Sopran's worries off. "It's fine, kiddo, i like having visitors and meeting new people. Do you wanna join me on my round? I was on my way to the chickens."

Red looked at Sopran, they looked up at him and nodded, not sure what else to do right now. "sure, pal, lead the way," he answered for them both.

Chapter Text

Crops never saw a Sans like Sopran. As a Judge he instantly saw their LV, but also noticed how scared and vulnerable they were. LV was typical for Fell-type monsters, but they usually had a higher body count, depending on the circumstances of the respective Underground. But a Judge with LV was a first. Or was Sopran's universe a Swap-type and their Papyrus was the Judge?

Whatever, according to Red, Sopran had been through a rough time and was in need of help. Maybe Crops could get a better picture of them when he saw how they interacted with his animals. Red said, they liked animals and someone like that couldn't be all bad, right?

With a small basket hanging from his forearm by its handle, he lead his two visitors to the chicken coop. He was curious. People tended to underestimate smaller animals like chickens or ducks, only to find out they're frightened of them just because they moved around, flapped their wings, made weird noises or simply weren't dogs. Almost everyone can interact with a friendly or calm dog. But a lot of people are weirded out by the way poultry behaved. Crops saw a lot of funny videos online about people, a lot of them some stupid city kids, starting screaming as soon as the chicken they were holding started flapping its wings, or kids getting chased by a rooster. Pffft. Funny.

Crops opened the coop and handed Red the bucket with the chicken food. "Here, you two can feed them while i collect the eggs. You know your way around, Red." He didn't want to crowd Sopran too much, they seemed a little stressed out already.

Red took the feeding bucket with a nod and showed his little friend how to feed the chickens. They imitated him and the chubby birds gathered around their feet, clucking and cooing and pecking at the grains strewn out for them.

After the adult hens, the chicks followed, slower because smaller, tiny yellow puffs of feathery plumes and fluff, tweeting and chirping and doing as their mothers did.

Red bent down and carefully picked one of the little fluffballs up to show it to Sopran. They delicately held it in their hands and looked at it. They never saw anything cuter so far. They didn't notice Red sneaking a pic of them eyeing the chick with big wondering eyes.

Sopran jumped a little when a hen attempted to land on their small shoulders and ended up on their skull, the picture too funny to pass up this other opportunity of a cute shot. Red took the chicken from Sopran's head and held it safely for the smaller to stroke the soft feathers. The chicken just clucked softly and looked around with the typical slightly jerky head-movements their species does.

In Crops' book, Sopran passed the first test. The girls were cool with the small stranger and Sopran themself seemed endeared by the birds.

When he was done checking for eggs and collecting them in his basket, Crops cleaned and refilled the drinking trough and showed Red and Sopran to the ducks.

The ducklings were just as cute as the chicks, waddling after their mothers and making high-pitched chirps. The ducks were more protective of their offspring, as in they kept a close eye on whoever got near them to make sure no one tried to hurt them. Sopran smiled as the duckling in their hand tried to nibble on their fingers, the pink bill never stopping in its quick movements.

Sopran had wondered how the ducks had been able to swim so fast to the water's edge of their pond when Crops got there and started to lay out their food. Now, they saw the webbing between the duckling's toes.

As one of the white birds approached and quacked at them, Sopran sat the duckling down carefully. They turned to Red and signed, *they are so cute* Red put his arm around them again and smiled, glad to see Sopran so... not stressed out or panicking. "sure they're, doll. 'njoyin' yerself?"

Sopran nodded.

Crops brought the eggs he'd collected to the house and offered his guests some refreshments. Oat-cookies and homemade lemonade. After the short break, he lead them to the cowshed to milk his ladies and show Red and Sopran the adorable calves.

Big, dark eyes looked at the newcomers with curiosity. Sopran took their time to take in how these bigger animals looked and moved and how easy Crops moved between them and shooed certain individuals to the side to check them over. Those had big bellies and if Sopran guessed right, were yet about to give birth.

Crops waved the two over. "Wanna help me out a little to save some time? I have to milk the girls, if you like you could bottlefeed the calves for me. I let them drink from their mothers, but since i take the bigger part of the milk to process or sell it, i feed the rascals some formula and vitamins additional to what they get from their moms, to make sure they grow up healthy."

Red looked at Sopran. "ya wanna try? ya dun hafta tho. i did it a few times an' lemme tell ya, dey can slobber like crazy." Sopran glanced over at the adorable little animals that weren't barely bigger than Cujo, if at all. *i would like to try*, they signed as they looked up at Red.

Red shrugged. "sure kiddo, but be prepared for your clothes needin' a wash when we get back home." While he said this, Red shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a hook in the wall where the bottles waited Harvest had prepared in the morning. He picked up the flat crate with the bottles and brought them over, took one and showed Sopran how to hold it so the calves could suckle on it like it were their mother's teat.

The little beasts were eager, lowing, shoving and salivating a mixture of slobber and milk/formula after they had their share, but never turning down seconds.

It was loud. It was messy. And, with all the slobber, maybe a little disgusting. But Sopran beamed and that was the most important thing here. At least for Red.

He also didn't miss the partly amused, partly soft smile Crops shot Sopran's way while his hands went through the familiar motions of cleaning each teat on every udder, before attaching the milking machine.

Could it even get better in any way?

Chapter Text

After the calves were fed, the bottles empty and put away and the creamy brown animals had calmed down, Red and Sopran climbed into the fencing to brush and pet them, after Red picked up two brushes.

Crops was still busy milking the adult cows, so the pair had some time to kill.

Brushing, pets and scritches seemed appreciated by any furry creature hence the calves leaning into Red and Sopran's administrations as much as possible, making rumbling and moaning noises in bliss.

Crops kept his face turned forward, his shoulders pulled up and his head ducked to hide his silent glee at how much the little beasts seemed to like the new skeleton and at how Sopran seemed to let loose due to the distraction that were the animals.

Sopran and the animals got along like a house on fire. On the other hand, Crops treated his animals like family, the ones born on the farm never experienced any mistreatment and therefore were open to strangers. Only the animals he gained from other farms or breeders were more or less wary, depending on their former experiences.

Now that he gave it some thought, Sopran reminded him of some of his extreme cases. Like his bull Samson, which had been treated like a dangerous beast by his former owners just for being a big bulky male; but he had turned out a huge softie.

Or some of the farm cats. After being either neglected or mistreated (or both) they stayed partially feral, and Crops wouldn't blame them for that, but sometimes one or two joined him when he napped under a tree in the orchard, loafing and purring contentedly.

His thoughts briefly went back to the horse he once saved from being sold to the slaughterhouse because no one could handle it after years of abuse in a hunter jumper stable. Crops had managed to retrain it to pull the plow on the fields that were too small to use the tractor. Sadly, it had to be put down after it broke a leg in an accident, involving a feral stray dog and a rabbithole. Making that final decision never got easier. At least not for Crops.

It made him feel a warm, grateful happiness to witness other persons being as compassionate and loving to animals as he was himself. Or Harvest. Or the Horror-Bros. He was lucky, and he knew it and was grateful for it.

If he could give something of this luck back by helping others, like Sopran, he was happy to do so.

His Soul already had fully accepted the tiny Sans and decided to do to whatever necessary to protect them. They had something about them, he just couldn't put his finger on it.

So, here he were, milking his cows while Red and this gentle little Sans entertained themselves and the calves.

After he was done with the last cow, he cleaned the machine and while the milk was pumped to the machines that pasteurized and processed it.

He put the milking machine away and turned to his visitors, who were outright cuddling the calves at this point, and he couldn't resist to take some pics. He couldn't keep in his amusement any longer and snorted when one the bigger calves licked Red's face before he knew what was happening.

That got Red and Sopran's attention and Crops waved for them to follow him.

Next stop was a relatively small field with several shelters made from wooden beams and corrugated iron that were barely as high as Crops' shoulder but as wide as a bigger garden shed and with one side open, facing away from the direction where the winds and weather usually came from. In front or half inside laid big sows, some spotted, some not, and dozing away while hordes of piglets were zooming around, chasing each other, squealing, wrestling, headbutting, then running around some more.

Sopran huffed their mute laughs at the piglets' antics. "ya've got quite de bunch dis year again, bud," Red commented, amusement dancing in his words.

Crops nodded. "They're many and, more important, perfectly healthy. No still-born, no runts, no malformed ones. Looks like i chose a good boar this year. I have to get him again when the ladies come into heat next time."

*do they always have that many babies?*, Sopran asked, Red translating again.

Crops nodded. "Some animals, like cows or horses, have usually only baby at a time, but the smaller the babies in relation to the adults the more can be born at once. Sheep and goats, most of the time, have twins or even triplets, cats have two up to five kittens, sometimes even more. With dogs it really depends on the size of the mother. Small dogs have only two, the biggest breeds can have ten and more. And pigs, as well, have ten and more piglets. You see how big the sows are, a piglet is at birth barely bigger than an adult chihuahua. But they grow fast."

Since sows could be quite protective about their young, Crops advised his guests to wait at the gate and just watch while he fed the pigs. They weren't disappointed at all, with all the piglets' shenanigans there was always something interesting to observe.

The last animals Crops showed them were his small herd of dwarf goat and sheep, a colorful bunch of curious little cloven-hoofed gremlins. They greeted the three skeletons with loud bleats.

While Crops fed them, he looked around to make sure that they were all there and fine.

One of the dwarf sheep was lying on her own in the far corner between the shelter and the fence. Her body looked bloated and huge.

Crops just finished feeding the others, keeping some to feed the lone sheep later and put it where the herd couldn't reach it.

He went over to the sheep and checked her over, feeling her swollen belly with his hands. Finally he looked up at Red and Sopran. "Looks like you had perfect timing with your visit. I was waiting on her delivering for a while now. I started to get worried, but she is finally in labour. I don't think it'll take too long, she's already pretty far along."

Red put his arm around Sopran and his hand on their shoulder. "ya mean she's gonna have 'er lambs now?"

Crops nodded, never taking his hands from the sheep's flank. "Uh-huh. I think-"

And just at that moment, she started pushing.

Everything went pretty fast. After a few pushes, the front feet and the head were already out and the rest followed in one swoop with the next push.

Crops checked the lamb to make sure it was breathing, then turned his attention back to the mother and not long after, she pushed out the second lamb.

Something didn't add up.

The lambs were both healthy, luckily, but they looked off compared to the other sheeps. While all the other sheeps and their lambs were white, or off-white, the two newborns had patches of hazel on their flanks and black on the back, indicating an eel streak along their spine. Like a lot of the goats had. What?

"Hanibal, naughty boy," Crops groaned.

With a sigh he gave the sheep the food he had saved for her, then left her and the lambs, kits?, alone and joined Red and Sopran at the gate.

"Those two are hybrids," he explained unprompted, " it is possible for sheep and goats to have offspring together, it's just not very common." He motioned with a hand to a dwarf billy goat with a similar patchy pattern as the two lambs had. "Only Hanibal can be the sire, the ram is as white as the other sheep and the only other billy goat i have is as black as a night in a coal mine. Plus, he stalks the sheep all the time."

*is this a bad thing? That the lambs are half goat?*, Sopran asked worried.

Crops gave them a reassuring smile and shook his head. "Not really. I can't breed them, but i have the dwarves only as some kind of petting zoo for visitors and as living lawn-mowers, anyways. I'm mostly worried that Hanibal could get into a squabble with the ram, which would cause a disproportionate ruckus. A lot of bleating and running around and all the dramatics. Over nothing."

Red grinned at the picture and Sopran about the soap-opera like drama in the sheep and goat pen.

Crops showed them the rest of the farm, the fields, the garden, the orchard. Every now and then they came across one or two of the about a dozen cats that were currently living around the farm, or Cujo following one scent or another.

Crops was a little surprised when Sopran seemed wary of the cats. When they lived with Red and Edge, they had to have encountered Doomfanger by now. And Red hadn't mentioned anything about Sopran being afraid of cats.

Red seemed to understand what was going on in their head. He pulled them closer and whispered, "dun worry, doll. dey ain't like da street cats in de city. de furball lived here too before edge brought him home, remember?" Sopran nodded after they took a deep breath and then another.

They calmed down after that and ignored the cats when they didn't bother them. Crops decided to not ask about it, he could put two and two together.

Later he invited Red and Sopran to eat with him, and didn't put up a fight when Sopran insisted on helping with the dishes as thank.

When Harvest sent a message that he and the Horror-Bros were on their way back, Red decided it would be best to get back home to spare Sopran the stress of meeting too many strangers at once.

After Crops invited them to visit again any time, Red ported himself and his charge back home, where they spent the rest of the day on the sofa, watching TV with Doomy in Sopran's lap, until Edge got home and started on dinner.

Chapter Text

Feeling a certain smaller warm body curled up into his own at waking up didn't surprise Red anymore. He knew Sopran had went to their own room again the evening before. It was worrying in one way, that the poor pipsqueak's sleep was so disturbed that they were sleepwalking so much. On the other hand, they felt safe enough with Red to seek him out, even unconscious. This gave Red some kind of proud feeling, being such a source of safety to someone, being trusted to keep them safe and protected.

In his blind spot, Doomfanger moved and made his presence known that way. Since the tom didn't demand his breakfast immediately, Red decided to stay where he was, to give Sopran the chance to wake up on their own.

Their breathing deepened with a sleepy sigh before they stretched and yawned, and eventually opened their eyesockets. Plale pretty blue lights greeting him.

"morn' doll. sleep well?", Red asked, knowing that, yes, they had slept peacefully, at least after they found their way to his room.

The smaller one looked at him a little confused for a second, then pieced together what was going on and seemed embarassed, maybe even disappointed in themselves.

That won't do.

Red reached over and flicked Sopran lightly on the forehead. "none a'that, sweetheart. i rather ya come ta me instead of staying in yer own room an' spiraling de whole time. an' i dun miss any sleep 'cause a'that so it's fine."

Sopran wasn't so sure about it, but they wouldn't fight Red over it.

Now, that they both were awake, Doomfanger deemed it fitting to make his bodily needs known, naming his hunger.

Red would have ruffled the cat's fur if it wouldn't mean risking some nasty scratches. The cheeky little demon had only waited for Sopran to wake up on their own so he could demand attention. And food, of course.

So, they went to the kitchen and Sopran fed the fluff-explosion while Red made pancakes.

In an absent move, he switched on the radio and they caught the tail end of some ad before the moderator announced the next song: "This week, Tenor's new album is releasing, 'Feelings Never Get Old'. Here now, the Single to the Album, a cover-version from one of Roxette's most beautiful songs."

The intro started playing while he was still talking, but as he fell silent there was still enough of it to listen to to recognize the song.

Milk and toast and honey
Make it sunny on a rainy Saturday, ay-ay-ay
Milk and toast, some coffee
Take the stuffiness out of days you hate
You really hate

His voice was, of course, deeper than Marie Fredricksson's, Roxette's lead singer, but he gave it gentle warmth that was equally fitting the music and lyrics. Sopran felt again reminded of how much of a genius he was when it came to music.

Slow morning news pass me by
I try not to analyze
But didn't he blow my mind this time?
And didn't he blow my mind?

to bring a little lovin', honey
(Here he comes) to take away the hurt inside
(Here he comes) he's everything that matters to me
(Here he comes) he's everything I want in life

Milk and toast and honey ain't it funny
How things sometimes look so clear and feel so near
The dreams I dream, my favorite wishful thinkin'
Oh, he's bookmarked everywhere, everywhere

True love might fall from the sky
Oh, you never know what to find
But didn't he blow my mind this time?
And didn't he blow my mind?

to bring a little lovin', honey
(Here he comes) to take away the pain inside
(Here he comes) he's everything that matters to me
(Here he comes) he's everything I want from life

oh, lay a little lovin', honey
(Here he comes) to feel you're gettin' close to me
(Here he comes) he's everything that matters to me
(Here he comes) he's everywhere I wanna be

Ooh, na-na-na-na
Hm-hm

The lyrics seemed fitting for a lovesong, but Tenor made it sound more... generally? Like it could adress anyone close, a lover as well as family or a very close friend. Sopran wished they could access their Magic and sense the message in the song. The one, barely anyone outside their Underground could sense and understand.

oh, to bring a little lovin', honey
(Here he comes) to take away the pain inside
(Here he comes) he's everything that matters to me
(Here he comes) he's everything I want from life

oh, lay a little lovin', baby, baby
(Here he comes) you're gettin' close to me
(Here he comes) he's everything that matters to me
(Here he comes) he's everywhere I wanna be

To bring a little lovin', he's everything I want
To lay a little lovin', he's everything I want
Oh, here he comes (here he comes)

Tenor had done it again. Once more, he outdid himself, but Sopran wasn't surprised. Tenor was perfect, after all. They were proud of him, even if they never could tell anybody that they were siblings. No one would believe them. Not when Sopran was nothing but a mute, broken disappointment while Tenor was one of the most successful artists in the music business.

A grunt from Red pulled Sopran out of their increasingly dark thoughts. "hn, not bad. edge is gonna get de album as soon as 'e knows 'bout it." He turned his head to look at Sopran. "he's prolly one a de biggest fans in town,i swear," he added.

Sopran nodded with an uncertain smile. *yes. Tenor is really a great singer.*

The weather-person in the radio said it would soon start to rain and in the afternoon thunderstorms were possible.

Red listened to the weather-cast, then glanced at the sticky note he had found stuck to his mustard, a reminder from Edge to Red to finally clean up his workshop. With the weather to be expected to get bad soon, there was no real reason to go out. Plus, Red felt like tinkering a little.

"hey, sopran, wanna see mah workshop?", he asked.

Chapter Text

Sopran followed Red down the stairs to the basement. The door was enforced and had a high tech code lock, courtesy of Red's inventive mind.

Red had safeguarded everything in there with number codes. The door lock, the electricity/lights, the access to his computer with all his data, research and digitalized versions of his blueprints, etc. He also had safeguarded the machine he had brought up from their Underground, even if it was nothing but a hunk of scrap metal that won't ever be touched by a tool again, but it had some kind of sentimental value to him and he hadn't wanted to leave it behind.

He wasn't the only one who'd done so, he knew for a fact that Sans had done the same, only he had allowed his Alphys to gut it for parts and then turned it into a photo booth for his brother to have fun with his friends and take silly pictures with them. It was a blast whenever they had guests over.

However, Red had left his machine undisturbed after bringing it to the surface.

But the machine wasn't what dominated the workshop(which, btw, looked a lot like the one he had in the Underground), no, it was the mess of parts, papers, tool and whatnot flying around everywhere, that was the most prominent.

At least Red had the decency to look sheepish at the disaster he called a workshop.

*How do you find anything in here?*, Sopran asked, half curious and half incredulous.

"the true genius controls the chaos," he joked. Sopran could hear the humor in Red's voice. They gave him a side-eye.

Red huffed, a little sheepish again. "but, tibia honest, a little help would be great."

Sopran raised a brow. *a little*, they signed, holding a hand up with thumb and index finger barely a millimeter apart.

Red mirrored the gesture. "a teensy tiny little bit."

Sopran gave what looked like a hurricane had raged in here a more thorough look. *Where should i start?*

Red looked around. "maybe jus' pick everything up and sort it after papers, parts, tools and other stuff like screws an' nuts? just tell me if anythin' is ta heavy fer ya. just get de parts in a corner, outta de way, ya know. an' dun worry bout gettin' it all done at once. we have time. stuff won't grow legs and run off er nothin'."

Sopran nodded and decided on a spot to start at, the corner where they would put the parts.

Meanwhile, Red cleared his workplace, a counter that served as workbench. He sorted through everything laying around there, he wasn't going to let Sopran do all the work just because he was there, he understood that the smaller thought he owed Red and Edge, and nothing the Fell-brothers said could convince him otherwise. So, Red decided to give Sopran something useful to do and make sure they wouldn't overexert themself. The twink was still recovering after all.

He glanced at his mute little friend and the headphones around their neck caught his eye. He remembered that they were broken and that he had offered to take a look, before.

"mind me takin' a look at yer 'phones, doll?", he asked, motioning to said headphones with his hands. "promise i'll be careful. just wanna look if i can fix 'em."

Sopran gripped their headphones and hesitated. Those were their only memento they had of Tenor, besides from seeing his face and hearing his songs everywhere, but that was different. That wasn't personal, wasn't for them but for his fans.

The headphones were the most valuable thing Sopran had on them. At least when it came to emotional value. They were irreplacable should anything happen to them.

...

But...

Red was considerate. As was Edge. The two knew how much this unassuming item meant to Sopran.

They took a deep breath and nodded, before handing the headphones over. They gave Red a grave pleading look. *please be careful.*

Red nodded sternly. "'course, doll."

Sopran watched anxious as Red, with utmost care, opened the plastic casing to get to the wiring and electronic parts.

After watching Red taking the headphones apart diligently and laying out the parts in a way that made obvious which part went where, Sopran resumed their own work, reassured that Red would be able to reassemble the headphones when he was done.

Chapter Text

They both worked in silence for an undetermined while, both too focused on what they were doing to notice the passage of time.

Finally, Red put the casing back together, heating it where it had been cracked to melt it closed and get a smooth surface. He pressed the parts together, they snapping shut with a click. He plugged a data wire into the port of one of the speakers and ran a check with his pc, finding nothing but music files.

Curious, he plugged his own headphones into the designated port on the pc monitor and clicked through a few random files, finding a wide range of music genres and styles.

Apparently Sopran really liked music.

There were many possible explanations.

It could mean nothing at all.

His brother might have put together the playlist, or liked those pieces, Sopran had told them that the headphones were all he had left from his brother. At least half of it was sung a-capella by a kid, like it sounded, so, maybe private recordings? Whose voice was it? Sopran's? His brother's? Neither?

Music could be for Sopran what quantum physics and puns were for Sans and a lot of his alternates.

It could be a theme he had going on in his own Underground.

He could be from an universe where music is part of their daily life.

Music could be the main theme of Sopran's Underground. Like sex was for the Lustverses or being edgy/intimidating in Fellverses, etc.

It could mean everything and nothing at all.

At least it would make Sopran happy. Hopefully.

And hopefully they didn't mind the upgrade he gave the headphones.

Lastly, he charged the battery to revive it. He recognized it as Magic powered, but with how weak Sopran had been, and prolly because it was broken, it had died a while back and hadn't been able to recharge on Sopran's Magic. For now, normal electricity would do the trick until Sopran would recover enough.

He held one speaker to his acoustic meatus and activated the headphones, switched back and forth through the playlist and tested the other functions, before he turned it off and turned around to where Sopran was sorting through a pile of bolts, nuts and screws of different sizes. Several heavy parts aside, they had somehow managed to at least roughly sort the mess into the main categories of papers, parts/machinery, tools and small parts like screws and stuff.

The shortstack seemed pretty efficient when given a job.

Might be good for his self-esteem.

Red cleared his throat to gain the other's attention, then held out the fixed headphones. "'m done. i, uh, added some small thin's. like bluetooth an' such. ya can use 'em with a phone now."

Sopran gingerly took their headphones back and looked them over thoroughly to make sure they hadn't got more damaged. But the cracks in the plastic were gone and when they put them on and activated them to test them, the familiar music played.

Sopran had to take deep breaths to not get too emotional right there and then. They signed a deeply heartfelt *thank you* while they listened to some recordings of them and Tenor from when they both had still been stripelings. Baritone didn't know these recordings existed. No one did, besides Sopran and Tenor.

They got lost in memories the music conjured.

Sopran came back to reality with a jolt as Red gently brushed the back of his fingers against their shoulder to get their attention. He immediately held his hands up in a placating gesture. "sorry, sweetheart, didn't mean ta startle ya, bu' we should get up and eat somethin' er edge will have mah ass."

'would be a shame', thought Sopran and felt their face grow hot the next instant.

What were they thinking!?

Glad they still didn't have the Magic to blush Sopran nodded and followed him upstairs.

Chapter Text

"Hello, Mr. Tenor, thank you for your time."

"Oh, That's No Problem At All, Mr. Gore. I Am So Sorry My Father Forgot To Extend The Contract We Have With Your Company. Unfortunately, He Is Very Busy At The Moment And I Can Only Assume It Slipped His Mind."

"I understand. The usual monsters have been assigned a new job already, unfortunately. But Underfella Security And Protection Co. has nothing but competent employees. If you don't mind i could assign someone else to assure your safety?"

"That Would Be Great, Mr. Gore. We Never Had Any Reason For Complains With Your Company. I Trust That You Know Who Would Be Best To Take On The Job."

"Indeed, Mr. Tenor, indeed. I'd like to introduce you to the Fell-brothers, as they are called. The older one is on vacation for an undetermined time, but his younger brother is just as capable to lead his team on his own, as well as he is one of our best personal bodyguards and will most likely take it upon himself to personally guarantee for your safety. His team consists of our former Royal Guard Dogs, which will ensure the security of the locations you perform at."

"Oh, That Sounds Great. I Would Like To Hire Them Then."

"Mr. Tenor, it's an honor to work with you."

---

When Edge got the assignment sent from his former king turned boss, he would have had a heart attack if he had a physical heart. He still almost fainted at the prospect of being Tenor's personal bodyguard.

That required celebration!

He typed on his phone to order take-out at his and his brother's favorite restaurant.

When he glanced up to keep an eye light on his surroundings, he noticed the store he saw his reflection in the window of. He remembered the text his brother had sent him just before Gore informed him about his new assignment.

He got an idea.

Chapter Text

They got them a phone.

Just like that.

Out of the blue.

After lunch, Red and Sopran had sat on the couch and Red had explained what Sopran could do with their headphones now with a phone.

When they had admitted not having one, Red had stared at them for what felt like forever.

Just as Sopran was about starting to apologize, even if they knew it wasn't their fault, he rumbled something along the lines of 'that need to be changed' and typed on his own phone. Sopran wasn't sure, but they suspected that he either texted Edge or ordered a phone himself. They weren't sure which possibility made them more nervous.

After that, they changed the topic and Red admitted that he liked some good music at times. What kind of music depended on his mood or what he was doing. When he tinkered away in his workshop, he like something playing in the background that wouldn't be distracting, when he was training he liked something with power and rhythm. Or something soft and slow to wind down before going to sleep.

He mostly watched TV in the evening to get his mind off things that would keep him awake otherwise, or cause bad sleep. But after going to bed, he liked to play some music until he fell asleep. Not every night, but sometimes.

Sopran had asked if he minded to share what could keep him awake.

Red didn't mind.

And, besides sometimes being unable to stop thinking about what he was currently working on, he told them things about his own Underground, his universe.

At Sopran's confused face he laughed, deep and good-naturedly, and promised to explain that later. Then, he just spoke of what on the surface was known as UnderFell.

He spoke about their history, the betrayal of the prince, how their Asgore fell into the claws of depression and paranoia and did things Red didn't want to name. He spoke about the fallen humans, and how a single human child, Frisk, later known as Soothe, befriended every single monster in their Underground, no matter their LV or mindset. They helped the depressed King see the light, and, like in countless other universes, managed to break the barrier and set the monsters of UnderFell free.

Since there already was a Frisk, the kid needed a new name and since they had somehow tamed, soothed, all the monsters, even the King who had the highest LV of them all, they chose Soothe as name.

The kid now actually lived with their former King, who shortened his own name to Gore to not be mixed up with the Asgore that already lived topside and had a flower shop and greenhouse.

Gore founded a security company and employed his former Royal Guards and some other fell-monsters and also humans. Some worked solo, some had a team, like Dyne or the brothers themselves, some switched between. Red, sometimes, worked as personal bodyguard on his own, sometimes he lead their team with his brother.

Thankfully Red had ceased his questions about Sopran's own Underground when he noticed that they were uncomfortable talking about it. They couldn't answer some of those questions anyways. Baritone had kept them under lock and key and Sopran might remember hearing voices from strangers through a locked door, but they couldn't remember ever having seen anybody else as Baritone or Tenor.

They didn't know about their own history or humans or how they broke the barrier. Only that they one day had been put to sleep by their father and woke up in an unfamiliar place. Tenor had told them that they were on the surface now and the new place was their new home and Sopran should better be not so much trouble anymore.

For Sopran, nothing really changed, only that Tenor became famous pretty fast, which made them proud and happy for their brother. But the rift between them grew and after that one last horrible fight, Sopran finally ran away and that was what landed them on the streets.

The rest was history.

And now, Edge had come home, deliciously smelling take-out food in hand.

And a brandnew phone.

For Sopran.

The tiny Sans had already seen such phones, knew those were common on the surface. They knew Tenor and Baritone each had one. Baritone used his to talk to all kinds of, undoubtedly important, people. Sopran wasn't sure what Tenor used his for, but he had shown it off to them, told them a failure like them could never have something like that and better not touch his.

Why should he lie to them? It had to be true.

But now? Now, Red sat on the couch with Sopran while Edge was in the kitchen, plating the food he had brought home, and helped Sopran adjusting the settings and install a few apps he thought were important.

While browsing the appstore, Sopran asked Red if there were any kind of music apps. "sure there are, doll. all kinds of apps that are music related. like, fer example, instruments ya play on yer phone. or sampler. music or rhythmic games, radio broadcasts. and o'course, music streaming apps. yer can put together yer own playlists or listen to compilations, some offer audiobooks and podcasts, too."

Sopran... felt a little overwhelmed.

Before they could venture further into the subject, Edge called them to dinner.

"later, 'm gonna show ya de app i use ta listen to music. it's a good one," Red offered. Sopran nodded. *that would be nice, thank you.* Sopran had by now learned that the brothers could be unstoppable when they put their mind onto something. There was no use fighting them.

And.

If Sopran was completely honest, it was nice, even if they didn't know where this path would lead or how long would Edge and Red keep putting up with them.

Later that night, Sopran was still exploring the variety of styles and artists, browsing the music app Red had shown them. He had put up an account for them, using his own paybuddy account to pay for the prime membership, which granted them unrestrained access and included an ad block.

Eventually, they fell asleep listening to something classic by someone named Beethoven.

Chapter Text

When Sopran woke up, their phone was still playing the classic playlist on auto-repeat. 'Für Elise' just reached its crescendo, probably that's what had them wake up.

Sopran sat up and stretched until they heard several pops and cracks from their spine and shoulders. They could feel a crick in their neck so they tilted and gyrated their skull while stretching their neck until something gave with a loud, satisfying pop and they felt tons better.

Just then the small skeleton focused their attention on their surroundings and noticed that this wasn't Red's room.

For once, Sopran had slept in their own room, and slept through without remembering having any dreams. Nor nightmares.

They felt relaxed and kind of accomplished that they got through the night without needing to seek out the safety Red's room gave them.

At the same time, Red's absence made them feel a little alone.

They pushed those feeling away in an instant.

They decidedly ignored how their Soul latched onto every thought of Red, or anything related to him. They shouldn't get too attached or they risked to break the rest of the way when they inevitably would have to leave the Fell-brothers and be on their own again.

This here? This place, the safety, the help? It couldn't last. If Sopran had learned one thing in their life, it was that. Nothing good lasted forever. And it wasn't in Sopran's cards to find that kind of happiness and be safe and loved for the rest of their life. This was just a small respite before they would be thrown back to the cruelty of the world.

The change in pace as the playlist started a new piece, the overture of 'Wilhelm Tell', pulled Sopran from their darkening thoughts. They could practically see Red flick their forehead and gruffly tell them to stop thinking that way. And then he would find something for Sopran to occupy them and distract them.

Someone knocked on their door, which was left cracked open. Sopran instinctively hummed in answer. Or at least attempted to. But there was no sound, only the slightest vibration in their chest.

Huh.

Before Sopran could come up with an idea how to answer, Red's voice rumbled from the threshold. "ya up, sweetheart? boss made breakfast for us before he left, but we still need ta feed the fluffy demon. if ya up for it."

Sopran jumped out of bed, straightened their clothes and rushed to the door.

When they reached the kitchen, the radio gave the weather forecast, promising nothing but sunshine and warmth. It was still early summer and the sunny days were mild, intercepted by the occasional thunderstorm or a short rain.

Sopran liked how everything smelled fresh and clean after those rain showers. The clouds would clear up and leave a brillant blue sky behind, maybe strewn with a few feather clouds that meant the rest of the day would be nice.

Now that they weren't on the streets anymore, Sopran could take a moment to enjoy the weather again, and just... be. They'd have to find a job sooner or later, no way would they just leech off of the Fell-brothers' generosity. They already did so much for them.

For now, Sopran shook the thoughts and began setting the table and feeding Doomfanger while Red reheated their breakfast.

After breakfast was eaten and the dishes done, Red motioned for Sopran to sit back down at the table. "wanna talk about somethin' widja, sweetheart." He waited until Sopran nodded to show they were paying attention. He mirrored their nod.

"k, so, ya know i took a few days off to make sure you're fine." Another nod. "thing is, i can't stay home forever. i have ta go back to work at some point. but it doesn't feel right ta leave ya on ya own. de fur-demon may be good company fer ya, but he wouldn't be able ta help ya if something happened. thought, maybe, we could visit some a mah friends to find someone ya are comfortable with and could stay at while boss an' i are at work. y'know, other sanses, like crops. know a lotta people, some are assholes, but either reliable or they know their shit. others are nice, like dat stupid blueberry. ball a sunshine no matter what, annoying as hell, but stronger than he looks and eager ta please. like a puppy."

He looked them in the eye lights. "would ya be willing ta try? i would like ta introduce ya to sans first. his crew were the first monsters ta come to de surface, that's why most of 'em kept deir original names. he knows practically everyone an' was the go-to fer them all until he couldn't handle it all on his own anymore, and kind of built a network with a lot of his alternates ta delegate things. but he still greets every new monster that comes to de surface.

guy has a lot of influence, even if he doesn't have any official position. 'm sure he can help us gettin' ya sorted, if not, he knows someone who can. he will help us keep ya safe."

Sopran fidgeted with their fingers, not looking at Red for a while.

*have you... have you already decided, when you are going back to work?*, they looked worried, anxious, as they signed.

"not yet," Red replied, "just wanna be sure ya are fine while i'm out. find someone ya can stay with during de day, ya are comfortable with and who can protect ya if necessary. we still dunno what kinda trouble ya are in, and we won't force ya to tell us or anybody else, but we know ya been through shit an' prolly whoever hurtcha could be after ya. so we want ta know ya are with someone safe while boss an' i aren't around."

Sopran thought about that.

Red was right. Baritone might be after them. Why wouldn't he, after he had been all possessive about them. They didn't know what he wanted with them or why he thought they deserved to be treated like he did don't think about it don't think about it don't do it, Red and Edge had been nothing but nice and caring and nothing bad had come from it, so why? Sopran didn't think anyone could really do anything about Baritone, he was too powerful and had too much influence. Sopran could only hope that he would either give up or forget about them, if they only could stay under his radar long enough.

Maybe...

Could Red's friends help?

Red gave them a contemplating look. "would ya feel better if i introduce ya over a videocall? works wi' de laptop, ya can see each other an talk with hands."

Sopran didn't completely understand how that would work, what with their lack of social and life experience. But if there was a way to meet that Sans without actually meeting him, he wouldn't be able to do anything to them. Right?

Before their anxious mind could brew up a dozen ways of how this could go south, Sopran gathered their nerves and nodded.

Either Red wanted this to get over with or he somehow sensed that they were about to blow it if they waited too long, he just ducked under the coffee table and produced a slim laptop from the little shelf down there. He sat it on the table, opened it and fired it up.

He then opened the videocall function and clicked onto Sans' name in the long list of contacts.

While the call connected, the screen opened two windows, one was small and situated in the upper right corner of the screen, the other was way bigger and almost took up the entire screen. The small window showed Red and Sopran sitting on the couch. Red used it to adjust the position of the laptop so Sopran's signing would be seen as good as possible on screen.

Finally, Sans answered the call and his perpetual tired smile graced the bigger window with its presence.

"heya bud, what do you need?", he greeted.

Sopran could see that Sans, just like Red, was in a way better physical condition than they themself. He looked tired, but more in a lazy, unhurried way, like nothing could get under his skin.

He wore a white t-shirt that peeked out from under a slightly oversized, well-worn blue hoodie. His eye lights were a soft white, and only god knew what power they were hiding. Sans was a Judge, after all.

Sopran blinked as Red loosely put an arm around their shoulder. "'member when i called ya a while back?" He waited until Sans nodded. "was about dis one here. dat's sopran, pipsqueak's livin' with us de time being."

Sans nodded again, then focused his attention on the fragile Sans next to Red. "howdy, buddy. name's sans, but i guess you had pieced that together already. only that i don't have a monicker, like everyone else does. i use he/him, by the way."

Red suddenly looked like he was sitting on one of his screwdrivers.

Chapter Text

Fuck.

Red felt like an absolute asshole.

Sans introducing himself with his pronouns made him aware that he neither asked about Sopran's pronouns or gave his own. He just assumed that Sopran would use he/him and maybe they/them, going off by all the other Sanses. Maybe Lust and their variations aside, that sometimes also used she/her.

How to go about it?

Well. Considering everything he knew about Sopran's personality and way of thinking, the pipsqueak would blame them(?)self for not telling Red or Edge from the start. Even if it was an oversight of the Fell-brothers for not asking.

Okay, calm down asshole. Maybe it isn't that big a deal. Just don't let Sopran notice something off.

Red suppressed the urge to take deep breaths, he just kept his hands in his lap and schooled his face into the tired-grump expression he usually wore. If Sans caught on that he was hiding something he would prolly think Red was putting on his tough-guy look. He had a persona to uphold, shut the fuck up.

Sopran gave Sans a shy, nervous smile and lifted their hands so that they were visible on the screen. *hello. My name is Sopran, they/them. It's nice to meet you.*

Okay, so Red had unintentionally misgendered the shortstack, but at least not entirely. They just didn't use male pronouns, only neutrals. That wasn't so bad.

He was torn from his thoughts as Sopran suddenly gripped his t-shirt tightly. When he looked up to see what could have startled or scared them, he saw Axe looking over Sans' shoulder with his intimidating red eye. The gnarly hole in his cracked skull didn't exactly help in making him look less scary. Even if the guy was a big softie.

"hey axe. didn't know ya are over at sansy's," Red greeted.

The horrormovie reject with the heart of a teddybear grunted in greeting. "Sugar's at the dentist. Gets his braces. Adjusted."

Red nodded in understanding. "and ya are waiting at sansy's, got it." Axe nodded at that and his huge single eye light rolled in his socket to Sopran again.

"Tiny," he grunted eventually, "need more food."

Red grinned and put a reassuring hand on Sopran's shoulder. "dun worry, big guy, boss and i are on it." He mumbled an "i explain later" to the smaller Sans, before getting back to the topic of his call. "whatever. i call 'cause i gonna hafta go back to work soon an' none 'a us is comfortable with de thought of the pipsqueak alone at home with only the fluffy demon as company. dun have all de details yet, bu' someone could be after 'em an' boss an' i want ta be sure sopran's safe and protected. bu' dey are scared of a lotta things, including strangers, so i hope dat ya an' maybe some others could have them over while no one's home?"

Sans blinked and took a second to process Red's words. He exchanged a glance with Axe, then blinked at the screen again. "'course, bud. you know, we look out for each other. i only need to brief pap so he will leave them alone. he's the coolest, but he can be a lot, especially for quiet or shy people. not everyone is like blueberry or undyne."

"Make snacks," Axe decided, apparently he had already kind-of-adopted Sopran on sight. Red eyed them out of the corner of his eye socket. "ya think ya okay with it? with axe bein' 'round? he won't do nothing, i can swear, he's prolly gonna coddle ya like no other. is just big and scary lookin', but safe."

Sopran studied the screen, a contemplative look on their face. Red could pinpoint the exact moment they came to a decision.

*i'd like to try. I can't be scared of everyone and everything for the rest of my life. I'm tired of being scared.*

Red grinned and pulled them into a side-hug. "proud a ya, sweetheart. dun worry, sansy's gonna keep everyone from overwhelming ya with their curiosity. everything at yer pace." On screen, Sans nodded in agree. "yea, doesn't help anything to stress you out, buddy."

Sopran smiled shyly at him again. *thank you, Sans. I hope i'm not a bother?*

Sans waved them off. "don't sweat it, bud. i have someone over almost all the time. people who need help with one thing or the other, friends hanging out, some kids doing their homework here whenever they have trouble with the matter. or sometimes just someone comes to kill some time while they wait, like axe today. you coming over while red and edge aren't home won't make a difference."

*if you say so.*

They ended the call on that note and Red decided to not bring it up that he had been using he/him for Sopran in his head. At least not now. It wouldn't do any good to stress them both about something Sopran hadn't even been aware of.

While they watched an old black-and-white movie about a guy turning into a shaggy dog after finding a magic ring and reading the inscription on it aloud, Red shot Crops a quick message.

Red Devil:

He put his phone away again, only to feel it vibrate a few minutes later.

Old McBone-ald

He put his phone away again and settled back down next to Sopran to watch the rest of the movie. And the sequel. And the remake. They both cringed at the bad cgi and other special effects that were used in the last movie. Good there hadn't been any sequels to that.

After calling Edge, Red ordered take-out. It was hard to choose since Sopran never really had it before, while on the streets they had been dumpster diving after all.

Taking into account that they already knew italian food from Edge's cooking and probably still were recovering from starving on the streets and therefore maybe couldn't handle anything too spicy, Red decided to chinese.

The food was quickly delivered and Red spent the whole meal to patiently teach Sopran how to use chopsticks.

It was something completely new for them and they were very interested in the unknown foods and in learning how to eat them correctly. It helped that there were graphic instructions printed on the side of every food container on how to hold and use chopsticks.

It still took a little getting used to and practice, but in the end, the tiny skeleton got the hang of it.

During their call, Edge had told Red he would get something on his own. Red knew his brother didn't like cold and reheated take-out and hadn't ordered for him because of that.

While Red took out the trash and cleaned the kitchen, what little there was to clean, Sopran fed Doomfanger.

After watching the news and some random sitcom, they went to bed, each in their own room. Sopran listened to some music to unwind and eventually fell asleep with Doomy next to them.

Sometime halfway through the night, a crying Sopran stumbled their way to Red's room and found rest and safety cuddled up to the taller monster.

Would meeting new people ever get easier for them?

Chapter Text

Edge checked himself over for the umpteeth time to make sure he looked his best.

He had already instructed his team about their tasks while working with the client, now he had just to introduce himself personally to said client, who also happened to be his personal charge.

Usually, he wasn't nearly as nervous about meeting a client for the first time, but he guessed this case could be counted as special circumstances.

He took a deep breath and laser-focused his red eye lights on the door in front of him. It was decorated with a music-themed plaque. Engraved in that plaque was the name Tenor.

His favorite singer. His idol. His new charge.

No, of course Edge was NOT internally freaking out, what are you talking about?

He straightened his suit jacket one last time, took another deep breath, huffed it out with one forceful push, then knocked before he could lose his nerves.

He was a fell-monster for fuck's sake. He was one of the meanest, most battle-hardened individuals to ever exist in his Underground. He shouldn't get the jitters just because he was assigned to protect the one monster he admired as much as his brother. He cared for Sopran a great deal, too, but that was beside the point.

He was torn from his thoughts when he heard the door being unlocked. By the time the door opened, Edge had schooled his expression into his professional face, serious, but not outright intimidating - he had to put conscious effort into not scowling like he was looking at his next murder-victim in the beginning, so cut him some slack - and found himself eye socket to eye socket with a tired, worn out looking Papyrus.

Edge cleared his throat, a little arkward, and introduced himself. "Hello Mr. Tenor, My Name Is Edge. I Am Your Newly Assigned Personal Bodyguard And Leader Of The Security Team. It Is An Honor To Meet You In Person And To Work With You."

That was a good start. Respectful, on point, and he did neither ramble or stutter. Nor did he say anything to make a fool of himself.

Tenor blinked at him for a second, before his mind apparently rebooted, and he gave Edge a tired, but genuine smile.

"Oh, Yes, I Talked With Mr. Gore, He Told Me Your Team Is The Best To Cover Events As Big As My Concerts Get. I Look Forward To Working With You, Mr. Edge."

They shook hands and Tenor stepped back into the room, beckoning Edge to follow. It was a rec room in the studio where Tenor and his crew recorded their music.

To one side was a sitting space with a comfy looking couch and several plush chairs, loosely arranged around a coffee table. Papers, notes and lyrics it seemed, were scattered across it.

"Please, Take A Seat. Then We Can Discuss Any Details," Tenor invited.

Edge nodded. "With Pleasure." He took one of the chairs, sat ramrod straight and crossed one leg over the other.

Tenor sat down on the couch, less straight, but his legs crossed as well. "First Of All, I Would Prefer If You Could Just Call Me Tenor, I Get All That Formal Stuff All The Time From Practically Everyone Else. To Be Absolutely Honest With You, I Feel Like Everyone Is Putting Me On Some Kind Of Pedestal." He gave a tired sigh. "I Am Nothing Special, I Just Happen To Be One Of The Trending Singers Right Now. Next Week Someone Else Could Land A Surprise Hit And I Would Slip Into The Background. I Wouldn't Even Mind, It Would Give Me The Opportunity To Focus On Other, Personal, Matters, I Need To Take Care Of. Oh, I Am So Sorry. I Am Rambling."

Edge needed a moment to process what Tenor just said. Personal matters? Too much public attention? Was that the reason he looked so tired and stressed? One thing was clear, Tenor was just another monster. Nothing more and nothing less than the next Papyrus. He was popular, yes, but Edge had never thought about how stressful that could be. He only ever got a small glimpse whenever he and his team guarded a big public event, like a concert or sports event.

He didn't envy the poor man. Maybe they could be less formal with one another? "Then I Insist That You Call Me Edge, Tenor. Maybe It Would Be Helpful To Know If There Are Persons Or Instances When We Will Have To Stick To Formal Adresses To Keep Face?"

Tenor nodded. "Oh, Absolutely. Baritone, My Father, Would Very Much Disapprove Of Me 'Getting Common With The Working Class'. As If Music And Other Arts Aren't A Craft As Well."

Edge gave a nod to show that he understood. "Anyone Else?"

"Fortunately, Most Of My Father's Bootlickers Work In The PR, The Musicians And Technicians Here At The Studio Are My People, And Likewise Not Very Fond Of My Father. In Public, You Wouldn't Be Expected To Do Anything Else Than To Protect My Personal Space, Anyways."

"Where Else Will I Accompany You? The Public, Obviously. The Studio?" Edge couldn't keep his curiosity entirely out of his voice. And Tenor must have picked up on it, going by the glint in his eye lights.

"Well..."

---

Sopran woke up in Red's bed again. Alone. Apparently, Red had gotten up early to make breakfast, and let them sleep in. They appreciated it, nightmares always tired them out.

Like so often, they heard him hum along to some song playing on the radio. They weren't sure if they liked his humming or singing better. They just really liked his voice.

They also heard Doomfanger meowing, probably pestering him to be fed already.

As soon as Sopran stepped under the doorway to the kitchen, the cat noticed them and came yowling like a whining child on the playground, complaining about the injustice of whatever. The comparison was actually funny and Sopran huffed out some wheezy laughs.

When Doomy all of a sudden let up in his whining and beelined for the door, Red turned around, confused, to see what was up. Then it sunk in that Sopran had heard him humming, and his face grew hot.

Sopran, of course, noticed when they looked up after greeting the cat, and smiled at him, endeared.

*you have a really nice voice. It's been a long time since i saw someone enjoying themselves like that.*

Red cleared his throat several times, looking anywhere but the other Sans. "sorry, sometimes i just can't help it. what about you, dollface? i got de feelin' ya like music a great deal, too. ya used ta sing like that?"

Their face fell a little, became sad. *i stopped when fatherothers told me how pathetic my voice was. I lost the joy in singing just for the sake of it. When my Soul started to crack, i lost my connection to the music around us.*

Red tilted his head, looking a little confused. "not sure if i can follow ya entirely there, sweetheart."

They shouldn't expose themself more than that, that could get them into trouble. *it's not really that important.*

Red doubted that. But he wouldn't press, Sopran seemed uncomfortable with it. So he shrugged it. "kay. breakfast is ready, by the way."

So they both dropped the topic, set the table and enjoyed their breakfast.

Chapter Text

A new morning, another night Sopran had slipped into Red's bed. After that, they had slept like a rock.

After needing to change clothes to do laundry after breakfast, they snuck one of Red's shirts. They weren't worried that he might get angry about it, he had lent them his clothes each time theirs needed a wash with a smile.

Sopran had seen his lights go fuzzy a few times now whenever he saw them in his clothes.

They entered the kitchen and found Red making pancakes.

He must've heard them, because Doomy was inhaling his food already and didn't spare his favorite cuddle buddy so much as a brief glance, still, Red turned towards them when they entered.

He stared at them.

Blinked.

Stared a little more.

Then, he hastily plated the last pancake, before cleaning his hands on his apron while rushing over to them.

His gaze was locked onto their face as he delicately, as if Sopran was made from finest china, cupped their cheekbones and slightly turned their head this way and that. Always gentle and careful.

A soft, almost dopey smile spread across his face. How could someone as scary and intimidating looking as Red look so soft at the same time?

"looked into a mirror already by any chance, precious?"

Sopran furrowed their brows. What was Red talking about? They shook their head as far they could with the bigger skeleton still holding on.

Red's smile became a little lopsided, almost a gentle smirk. "ya lights are back, doll. never seen a prettier shade of blue."

Sopran blinked. Then slipped from Red's grip and rushed to the counter, where the toaster was. They lifted the appliance to look at themself in the reflective surface.

It was true. Their eye lights had re-ignited. They were small and dim, but they were there.

They put the toaster back, turned around and beamed at Red.

It was the most beautiful thing Red had seen in a long time.

---

After breakfast, they did the laundry and discussed their plans for the rest of the day while they waited on the washer and dryer.

When everything was dry, Sopran put on their own clothes again, the smell of the softener already as familiar and soothing as the other scents Sopran associated with the Fell-brothers. Red put on a red t-shirt, black shorts with a golden stripe down the side, red sneakers and his heavy leatherjacket.

He offered his hand to Sopran like a gentleman, the gesture actually funny considering he looked like a thug or some hooligan. Sopran huffed a soft laugh, but played along, doing a curtsey and taking the offered hand while signing *thank you* with the other.

Red grinned, then pulled them into his side and shortcutted away.

They landed on a couch that Sopran didn't recognize. Or did they? Something was familiar about it.

"heya, pals," drawled a faintly familiar voice. As Sopran turned their attention to its source, they saw Sans standing in the doorway to what appeared to be his kitchen, a tray with drinks and glasses in his hands.

Sopran waved shyly.

Sans stepped closer and placed the tray on the coffee table. "axe and sugar are here, i hope you don't mind."

"good that they dun hide on de farm, bu' they seem ta spend a lotta time at yer place, sansy."

Sans shrugged. "the other time was just 'cause of sugar's appointment. today is just a random visit, they try to be more spontane." Red nodded in understanding.

Behind Sans, Axe and an impossibly tall Papyrus left the kitchen, carrying different snacks.

Axe's single, blown-out eye became even rounder and fuzzy when he took in Sopran. "Lights on... pretty...", he rumbled. Then, he frowned. "Too thin... tiny... need more... food..."

Sans just patted Axe on the shoulder. "it's okay, big guy, they live with red and edge. they have enough food, they're just tiny.

Sopran pouted. They weren't that small. *i'm surely not the smallest Sans.*

Sans snorted, "no, but TK is only half a foot smaller. and he's a kid. otherwise there's no smaller Sans known to me, and i would remember ever meeting a Sans that small."

Sopran pouted harder, to the amusement of everyone else.

In an attempt to change the topic, Sopran turned their attention to the horror bros. *you two live with Crops, right?* Red translated since Sopran's hands moved too fast for Axe or Sugar to follow, once because of Axe's head injury and second because of Sugar's bad eyesight.

Sopran's question lead to Sugar retelling how they were taken in by the farm brothers and what wonderful things they and the other Judges had done to help them with their issues.

That again lead to them talking about Sopran's first visit to Crops and how they had liked it.

Axe tried the whole time to stuff Sopran with as many snacks as possible. It was kinda funny.

Sopran slowly relaxed. Yeah, they could picture themself spending time here when Red would go back to work.