Archive of Our Own ^beta

All you need is a phone. Yours had died on your way home, but this part of the city is new to you. You couldn’t even find a taxi to wave down.

It’s far too late, and you’re tired and less-than-sober, so you step into the only open business you could find. The smell of cigarettes and cheap booze overwhelms you, despite bracing for it.

The inside of the building is dimly lit, but crowded. Every table has at least someone at it. You feel all of them stare as you walk up to the bar. It’s suddenly far more quiet than it had seemed from outside.

“I need to use your phone.”

The bartender looks you up and down with an expression you don’t appreciate.

“What, someone swipe yours?”

That’s… a concerning first thought for him to have.

“No, it’s just dead. I-”

Before you can finish your sentence, the bartender smirks and you feel someone grab your arms from behind.

“Lucky for us!” the bartender laughs.

You struggle against the person holding you back, but can’t escape. Someone at the bar happily starts snagging any valuables they can from you, laying them all on the counter.

“Not a whole lot on ya. Bummer, huh?” The thief smiles at you, but you see something dark in his eyes. “You’re not too bad lookin’ though, maybe we can figure something else out-”

Panic flares up in your chest in an instant. You try even harder to pull away, much to the amusement of the crowd around you.

You freeze completely when you feel a massive hand land solidly on your shoulder. Glancing back, you see a monster looming over the crowd: a giant skeleton with a half-gold jaw and an obvious crack leading away from it, up the side of his skull. His pupils are a deep, smoldering red.

The burning fear in your chest goes ice cold.

The monster, hand still on your shoulder, smiles. His metal jaw creaks and you swear this is what Death himself must look like.

A second enormous hand pushes away the man holding you back, holding both your arms behind you at once without any effort. Having you firmly contained, the hand on your shoulder reaches to retrieve your belongings from the counter.

“Hey, waddaya think-” the thief stops short, paling as the skeleton’s eyes land on him. He says nothing else.

The beast that has you captive takes all of your things off the counter in one grab and shoves them into his pocket. Then he slowly pulls you away from the counter, pushing you away and through the crowd, toward the back of the bar.

No, no.

You start struggling again, overwhelmed with fear of what this skeleton might do to you. His hand doesn’t budge, but he loosens his grip slightly. You hear a deep, raspy voice, so faint that you never could have heard it in the crowd.

“‘m not-” the creature’s voice catches, like just speaking is difficult, “won’t… hurt ya.”

You… don’t see how you can believe that.

He shoulders his way through a door labelled “BATHROOM”, dragging you along, and locks the door before releasing you.

It smells vile and you immediately search for an exit. In the tiny room, all you can make out is a toilet, a sink, so, so many stains, and the monster in front of you- holding up a phone?

The phone is proportional to him (meaning giant, as far as phones go) and the big chunky letters are easy to read, even in your current state:

im gonna get ya outta here, but you gotta hang onto me.

You take a second to process what you’re reading, before looking up at the beast in front of you. He’s sweating bullets. In fact, he looks about as panicked as you feel.

Whatever he sees on your face, he must not like it, as his brow bones scrunch further and begins typing. His claws tap away delicately at the phone before he turns it around to you.

It’s the exact same message, just pasted into google translate. All you can do is stare at him.

“I… could read it the first time,” you manage to say.

The skeleton looks at you, looks at the phone, then carefully reaches out his hand. It’s pointedly not in your space, face up. “Up to you” is the obvious message.

This is fucking terrifying, but going back out there is so much worse so- you carefully take his hand.

He’s visibly slumps in relief as he pulls you slightly closer and slowly wraps an arm around you. You feel the tell-tale rush of magic in the air as the world around you disappears.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself outside on the other side of town. You’re about halfway between the local park and the police station, which is honestly pretty close to where you live. This guy really did save you.

He quickly lets go of you and backs away, holding out all your stolen items. You take them.

…

…

“That was the scariest fucking thing that has ever happened to me.”

The monster doesn’t react beyond curling in on himself more than he already was.

“Not-! Well, yeah you made that seem so much worse, but you also saved me so it’s- thanks. Just, thank you. I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

The skeleton relaxes, a nervous smile stretched across his face. He nods once at you before vanishing. Must be nice to have a trick like that in a pinch.

Now that you have your bearings, you start making your way home. Part of you hopes you’ll see your hero of the evening again sometime. Thankfully, he’d be pretty hard to miss if you ever cross paths.

It’s pure chaos. This must be the worst earthquake Ebott—or even the world—has seen in centuries. Catastrophic weather has been a serious side effect of the barrier breaking, with so much magic released all at once.

The torrents of sleet, snow, and wind were one thing, but no one was prepared for the ground to burst open. Magma is pouring through the streets as the earth churns, violently scraping and tearing apart.

The force of the shaking is enough to make even the most quake-resistant buildings in town start to buckle. You were at work when the first quake hit, but you couldn’t leave. Traffic was already backed up before the lava started flowing, and now hundreds of empty, burning cars fill the streets.

The city and everyone in it could have easily been destroyed, if not for monsterkind, who quite literally swooped in to save the day. They’d all felt horrible about their freedom disrupting the surrounding ecosystem, so they were already very active participants in any weather-related rescues. Today is really putting them to the test though.

As incredible as they all are, their wings can only carry so much. Even the smallest of monsters were doing their best, guiding humans stuck on the ground to safety.

Your building was already cleared out, aside from you. The last monster who’d showed up, a sleek-winged skeleton, had only been able to take a small group with him. To his credit, he’d been insistent on taking everyone, but you could tell he just couldn’t do it. You volunteered to stay behind for now. His bright, blue eyes were filled with resolve as he promised to come back for you. And then he vanished, with your crew in tow.

That had been nearly two hours ago. The tremors had mostly subsided, or at least weakened, but the streets were still boiling with molten earth. You were on the roof, as far from the ground as you could get, waiting for help. It was almost peaceful how silent the city had become. The glow from the street was the last bit of light, as the electricity had gone out hours ago.

You’re just starting to give up hope when you hear the unmistakable sound of a monster’s wings approaching.

“I’M SO SORRY!!!”

You recognize that voice! Sure enough, the skeleton that had saved your coworkers lands roughly beside you. He looks nothing short of haggard. The darkness under his eye-sockets is impossible to miss, as is his torn clothing and heavy breathing. Loose feathers fall from his wings.

“Are you okay?”

He frowns at you and you see faint blue tears begin to well up.

“I’M SUPPOSED TO ASK YOU THAT! STARS, I CAN’T BELIEVE- I NEVER MEANT TO LEAVE YOU HERE SO LONG!! I SHORTCUT ALL YOUR FRIENDS TO SAFETY, AND I SWEAR I WAS GOING TO COME RIGHT BACK!! BUT THERE WERE OTHERS WHO NEEDED ME SOONER, SO I WENT THERE FIRST, AND AT SOME POINT I COLLAPSED-”

He must have been doing this, saving people, all day. The only reason he didn’t come back to get you was because he physically couldn’t. Based on how he looks now, he’s pushing it even flying here.

“BUT I’M HERE NOW!! I DON’T HAVE ENOUGH MAGIC FOR A SHORTCUT, BUT MY WINGS CAN GET US FAR ENOUGH!”

You want to be worried, but the expression on his face leaves no room to doubt him. Especially when he takes a deep breath, stands tall and declares:

“I’M GOING TO GET YOU OUT OF HERE, BUT YOU NEED TO HANG ONTO ME.”

Something about the way he says it, so reassuring and confident, makes you heart beat a little faster. Your face heats up, but you blame that on the lava.

You move closer, unsure for a moment, but he guides your arms to hold tightly where they won’t interfere with his wings. His arms are wrapped securely around your waist as he carries you to safety.

This was a bad idea. Papyrus was just trying to help by giving you somewhere to stay, but mentioning that Undyne has a key to their house was a mistake. Following up with the fact that Undyne doesn’t even need a key because she can just bust a wall down was even worse.

Sans sighs. You’re not a bad person, he’s pretty sure of that. You’ve been nothing but patient with everyone since you got here.

You played along with Pap’s musical puzzles, albeit poorly. It just made him happier, giving him a reason to lead you through the steps himself. And stars, when Papyrus started goofing around, trying to make you feel more confident, and you laughed.

That’s music to Sans’s nonexistent ears. He just had to go for it. He started pulling out puns left and right, and you liked it! Dancing might not be, but jokes are his forte and you were a good crowd. That laugh alone was well worth the treble. Papyrus rolled his eyes at that one, but you took it in stride.

Just thinking about it is making the ever-present smile on his face feel brighter. That’s how you ended up here.

You might be human, but you’re good. Undyne doesn’t see it yet cause you’ve only been Underground for a day, so she’s still adjusting. A lifetime of hatred that strong doesn’t go away overnight.

She had maybe attacked you a little bit earlier. Or a lot. But Sans was able to get you somewhere safe and Papyrus was there to talk her down so right now it’s… okay.

You just don’t seem to believe it yet. Your eyes flit between the couch that's made up for you to sleep on and the front door that’s just across the room. It’s obvious that you aren’t going to be happy trying to sleep down here.

Geez, he can’t do that to you.

“hey, so uh.. would you feel safer if you slept with me tonight?”

His brother snorts and covers his face, immediately snickering.

Sans’s skull lights up blue at his own phrasing. “not!! like that! i just meant, y’know, my room’s a second story- i can take the floor- i just thought-!”

You’re also laughing at him now, but there’s no ill-intent behind it. He could listen to you all day.

“It’s alright! I know what you mean! It was him-” you nod over at Papyrus, “that made it sound dirty!”

“I DID NO SUCH THING! CLEARLY I ONLY FIND AMUSEMENT IN THE CLEANLIEST OF JOKES!”

An absolute lie.

“BUT I THINK THAT YOU TWO SHARING A ROOM IS A GOOD IDEA!! THAT WAY IF UNDYNE STOPS BY IN THE MIDDLE IF THE NIGHT—WHICH SHE DEFINITELY WON’T!!!!!!—”

Nice save, Papyrus.

“—YOU WILL BE THE ABSOLUTE SAFEST!! BECAUSE SHE HAS TO PASS MY ROOM TO GET TO MY BROTHER’S AND SHE COULD NEVER GET PAST ME!!!” He poses elegantly, somehow now holding a single rose.

You can’t help but chuckle at his antics.

“BUT NO CANOODLING!!!!”

You laugh even harder.

Sans’s face couldn’t be any bluer.

It’s another one of those days. He can see it on your face the second you walk through the door. You’ve been crying again.

The job you took on has been breaking you down, bit by bit. Between the shitty coworkers and the shittier customers, you never would have stayed, Crow is sure enough of that. The problem is that you’re on contract. It’ll be another two months of this before you’re even allowed to leave.

Dammit, he wishes there was something more he could do. The fact that you go to work just to get torn to pieces every day is killing him. But you’ll just tell him not to get involved.

It’s your job and your choice. You want to get through the whole contract window and quit properly. Crow’s not even sure he could stop you, with how strongly you seem to want to persevere. Doesn’t make seeing you like this any better. Especially not when you throw your jacket and shoes on the floor and beeline right for him, arms outstretched.

At least he can help with this. Crow pulls you in close, wrapping you gently in his wings as he wipes tears from your face. He nuzzles softly against your cheek in a skeletal kiss-equivalent.

The sob that escapes you feels like it breaks his soul.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Neither does he.

“it’s okay. i’ve got ya, and you’re safe.”

But this’ll have to be good enough.

That was stupid. He just watched you block an attack for him, one he could have easily dodged. These drunkards are nothing! A simple interrogation gone awry!

The perpetrator lunges forward again and this time Mal side-steps around you, easily deflecting the attack. A quick twist of his arm and the drunken fool is on the ground. His two cohorts share a fearful look before fleeing.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, DETECTIVE?”

“What?”

He rolls his eyelights at you. “YOU KNOW BY NOW THAT I’M STRONGER THAN YOU.”

You look for a moment like you’re going to argue, but you say nothing. Your eyes won’t meet his. He can’t quite decipher that look.

“STAR’S SAKE, WHY ARE YOU SO DEAD-SET ON PROTECTING ME??”

“I don’t know!!” your face is flush with embarrassment, “It’s my job, it’s what I was born to do, I might be slightly in love with you-”

“BUT—WAIT, WHAT?”

There’s no way. There’s no fucking way that you just said that-

“HERE???”

You visibly startle, concern etched across your face. But he continues:

“I’VE BEEN WONDERING AND QUESTIONING AND WAITING FOR MONTHS NOW AND THIS-” Mal gestures to the very confused, very drunk idiot he still has in his grip, “-IS WHEN YOU CHOSE TO TELL ME???”

“If it helps, I didn’t… mean to?” you say meekly. Stars above, you’re lucky you’re adorable.

“WE’LL CONTINUE THIS CONVERSATION AFTER WORK,” he says firmly. Adding, when he sees your expression fall: “MY PLACE, EIGHT O’CLOCK. I APOLOGIZE FOR THE SHORT NOTICE, BUT THIS ISN’T QUITE HOW I EXPECTED THIS TO GO.”

It certainly isn’t ideal, but based on that smile on your face, you don’t mind. And if he’s being honest, neither does he.

You’re seething. It’s been daily nagging since you and the Captain became official. You just don’t get it!!

Sure, your boyfriend is more than a little rough around the edges and his temper could burn a city to the ground, but he isn’t like that with you! Or at least he wasn’t until you said you loved him for the first time.

This whole weird thing you had going on with him.. the stolen glances, the inside jokes, the way he was so gentle with you. Affectionate. That side of him that he doesn’t show to anyone else is what made you love him. You thought he loved you too with how he reacted when you said it, but since then… he’s different.

It’s like anything you do is wrong somehow; nothing is good enough for him. Earlier he told you off for not having your shoes tied tight enough. Who does that?

The worst part is that you know it’s an act, you just don’t know why! He keeps sneaking looks over at you that can only be described as longing, but you’re dating now! So what’s his issue?? It’s like he’s mad at you for liking him- oh.

That dumbass-! You wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly his problem! Stars above, it’s like all monsters are allergic to talking. You know him well enough to know that bringing up the problem directly will just make him defensive. Luckily, you didn’t win his heart by not being crafty.

You stop by his house in the evening, after you know he’ll be home from work. You don’t bother knocking.

His brother is sitting on the fridge (yes, the fridge. You swear these two must be half cat-monster) but quickly hops down when he catches your eye. You’re sure he can tell you’re serious.

The captain was standing by the stove with a pot of something cooking. He freezes when he hears you come in.

Papyrus snags the entire pot off the stove as he slinks out of the room. “please make him stop being a moron,” is all he says to you as he makes his way upstairs.

Fair enough, ‘Rus. Enjoy your stolen chili-mac.

Sans makes eye contact with you. You take a deep breath to start talking but-

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES AT THE DOOR,” he says flatly. Expressionless.

Fuck. That.

If he wants to play mind games, you can play too.

“I-I’m sorry. I just came by to say that we don’t have to date,”—oh ho, there’s a flicker in his eyes—“Clearly I’m just not able to live up to your standards; you don’t have to force yourself to be around me-”

The mask shatters.

“NO-! I’M NOT! PLEASE!” Sans reaches for you like you’ll vanish into thin air. He looks desperate. His voice gets quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “I Don’t Want You To Leave.”

“Then WHY are you being such an ass?!” Your change of tone shocks him. Admittedly, you take a little bit of joy in seeing him realize you duped him into a conversation about- gasp- emotions.

You expect him to hastily throw on another fake sneer or yell at you, like he has been all week, but he doesn’t. He sighs and buries his face in his hands.

“Captain, whatever you have going on in that empty skull of yours that’s making you think you need to push me away, you need to tell me about it,” you tell him. “I’m on your side, you know that.”

He huffs out a joyless laugh. “I Know, Stars, I Know.”

“Then tell me why,” not a question, but an order.

The look he gives you is downright pitiful. For all that he can hide behind a mask, once it breaks he’s like an open book.

“Being Around Me Is Dangerous. Being Important To Me Is Dangerous. You’re Going To Get Hurt If You Stay, I Just Know It. I- I Wanted To Keep You Safe… By Making You Leave,” he cringes at his own words. He knows it’s not the whole truth. And so do you. His self-esteem issues are a topic for another day, though.

“You can’t protect me from everything, Sans. The world is fucked.”

“You’re Right. But I Sure As Hell Am Going To Try.”

“So you’re breaking up with me?” you ask.

His eyes go wide. “NO!! STARS NO, DON’T LEAVE ME! I-” He won’t say it; you know he won’t. “I… CARE ABOUT YOU. I’LL- I’ll Do Better.”

“Promise me.”

“I... I Promise.”

You’re late to hang out with your boney best friend. Or at least he thinks you’re best friends? Rus isn’t sure what the human standard for friendship is, but he trusts you and spends all day thinking about you so? At the very least you’re his best friend?

He tries not to be bothered by how busy you’ve been lately. It’s not that you’re avoiding him, you just have a life to live and he’s free all the time, so it only feels like you don’t like him anymore and- no.

No, he’s going to stop that train of thought right now, because you reached out to set up a visit. You still want to be friends, you’re just… busy. He tries not to think about why. Or rather, who.

You’d gotten a new partner a few months ago. Which! Is fine! It’s not like Rus has any say in what you do with your life, but he misses you. He’s okay always just being a good friend as long as he actually gets to see you once in a while. Right now though, it’s looking like you’re going to cancel last-minute. Again.

He sinks further into the couch, eyelights fixed on the door, hoping. Fifteen more minutes go by and by then you’re almost an hour late, and stars he’s such an idiot for being so-

Knock knock

Rus is off the couch in an instant, pulling the door open (you actually showed up!!) and then he sees your face.

You look awful. Obviously tired, and crying, and bleeding-?! You have a black eye and scratches on your face.

“what happened.”

You don’t answer right away, instead stepping inside and closing the door behind you. The second it’s closed, you sink to the floor. Your crying is back full-force and Rus is right there next to you.

He opens his mouth to ask again, but you beat him to it. Between sobs you manage to choke out that your partner hit you. They hit you?!

Rus has to take a minute to calm himself. He doesn’t consider himself an angry guy, but for your partner to have found someone as incredible as you and treat you like this? He’s furious.

Before he can get too wrapped up in being pissed, you continue. Apparently your (ex) partner doesn’t like monsters. They’d been faking emergencies, telling you off, and basically doing anything they could to keep you away. That’s why you kept canceling on Rus.

That could be something of an excuse if your partner hadn’t also been keeping you away from everyone else. Isolating you. You were so determined to make the relationship work that you let it go on this long. Until they hurt you.

You look up at Papyrus and all he can see is how scared you are. The rage flickering in his chest is doused in an instant.

He wraps his arms around you and you cling to him like a lifeline.

“you gotta say something, fuck, i didn’t even know,” he starts, but you cut him off.

“It’s okay, this is my-”

“this isn’t okay!!” He pulls back to look at you. “you’re hurting, an’ i shoulda seen it sooner- i-”

Rus pauses, sounding more serious than you’ve ever heard him. His hand gently cups your face, wiping away a stray tear.

“if anything ever happened to you, i don’t know what i’d do. but it sure as hell wouldn’t be anythin’ good.”

You just stare at him for a minute and he thinks he fucked this up (stars he’s so stupid-!) but then you put your hand over his and tilt your head up. Rus doesn’t move an inch as you close the gap, gently pressing your lips to his fangs. It’s over much too quickly.

“you don’t hafta do that. i’ll keep you safe either way.”

You know. That’s why he’s your best friend.

Bonus:

me: i need your help with something

bro: WHAT DID YOU BREAK THIS TIME?

me: i need a favor.

bro: AH. WHO?

me: my buddy’s partner

bro: WHAT DID THEY DO?

me: they hurt ‘em

bro: UNDERSTOOD. THEY WON’T BE A PROBLEM ANYMORE.

bro: AND PAPYRUS?

me: ?

bro: ACTUALLY ASK THEM OUT THIS TIME, YOU CLOWN.

me: im not a clown!!!

bro: WHATEVER HELPS YOU SLEEP AT NIGHT.

“Stay here.”

“BUT-”

“I don’t want to hear it. You scared the shit out of me last time, and I’m not letting you do it again.”

“IT WAS TOO EASY! I HAD TOO,” he says, proudly even, “AND IN MY DEFENSE, IT WAS HILARIOUS.”

You give your boyfriend a look that you intend to mean that you’re mad at him, but he just snickers at you.

“MY LOVE, YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY STILL BE HUNG UP ON THE HAUNTED HOUSE FROM LAST YEAR-”

“You were supposed to protect me!!”

That breaks him, he can’t help but laugh.

“NYEH HEHEHE! OH YES, PROTECT YOU FROM THE HORRIBLE DANGER OF ACTORS AND A WELL-PAID COSTUME DEPARTMENT? BECAUSE THEY’RE SO VERY DANGEROUS?”

You pointedly look away from him, but he steps back into your view, still clearly amused, the jerk. You can’t stay too mad though, especially when Papyrus pulls you in close for a kiss.

“WHAT IF I PROMISE NOT TO SCARE YOU THIS TIME?” he suggests, gently nuzzling his fangs onto the top of your head. But you know better than that.

“You promise not to scare me, or disappear again, or have Sans scare the life out of me in your place?”

He pauses.

“I knew it!!” You (halfheartedly) try to push him away, but he won’t have it. You’re not sure how your prickly partner managed to hide his clinginess so well before you started dating.

“WAIT NOOO, I PROMISE! I WON’T SCARE YOU AND SANS WON’T SCARE YOU. I WANT TO GO THROUGH THE HAUNTED MAZE WITH YOU,” Papyrus says quickly. His normal scowl is replaced with an almost pleading expression. You know for a fact that he’s playing up the sad puppy look. “PLEASE?”

Dammit.

“Alright fine.”

You’re going to get scared again, you know you are. But right now, you’re headed into the maze with your boyfriend's hand in yours and he looks so damn happy that you can’t mind too much. He’s lucky you love him, antics included.

You don’t know what happened. Once minute you’re walking through Mount Ebott national park and the next you’re- in the same place? Kind of? But you can’t see the city at all!

It probably wasn’t the best idea to walk into that cave you found, but you only took two steps! A strange feeling in your chest told you to turn around and leave right away. You must be on the same overlook you’d just stepped away from. But you clearly aren’t.

The city in the distance is nowhere to be seen. It’s just trees and a few much smaller buildings that you can’t quite make out. Maybe hiking this particular mountain was a bad idea. The air is thin or something, you should go.

You start making your way down the same path you’d followed up, but you can’t shake that odd feeling. The worn path somehow looks even more worn than you remember, with more branching trails. It must be the same though. You try looking for landmarks.

There’s no way to know how much time has passed (when did your phone die?) and you can’t seem to find anything familiar. You know that Ebott is notorious for- no, you can’t think like that. You are not going to die out here.

Turning to try that last path again, you immediately bump into something metal. Some…one?

You’re face-to-chest with a tarnished plate of armor. Whoever is wearing it is tall, at least 7 feet. The helmet might add a few inches though, so you can’t be sure.

“OH, EXCUSE ME!!”

Geez he’s loud. His voice seems to be amplified through the chambers in the armor.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO BUMP INTO YOU! OR, NOT LITERALLY ANYWAY! BUT FIGURATIVELY I DID WANT TO SAY HELLO!!!” he booms excitedly, “VERY FEW PEOPLE COME UP HERE NOWADAYS! IT’S SO WONDERFUL TO SEE A FELLOW CLIMBING ENTHUSIAST!!”

Climbing enthusiast? Wait, that’s not what you should be confused by. This man is in full plate armor on a mountain in the middle of summer. What the fuck.

“I’m not-? Look dude, I don’t know what you’re doing all the way up here, but I- I think I’m lost. Can you help me down?”

“GASP!!” Yes, he just said the word gasp. “I WOULD BE HONORED TO ASSIST SOMEONE IN NEED!! AND IT WILL BE EASY FOR ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, THE LAST GREAT KNIGHT!!”

Ooookay? This guy must be out with his renaissance fair buddies or something. As long as he can help you, you don’t mind playing along.

“Lead the way, uh, great knight?” you say. The guy is silent for a moment, making you wonder if you said something wrong, but then he literally squeals.

“YES!! THAT’S ME!!!! LET’S GO!!” he exclaims, grabbing your hand and all but dragging you along the path.

Papyrus continues to chatter on about knights, magic, and monsters as he guides you down the mountain. He never lets go of your hand, which you appreciate considering how insane some of the trails you take are. Your literal knight in (not-so) shining armor might be completely confident on crumbly cliff paths, but you definitely aren’t. You’re even happier to have him around when it starts to get dark.

Soon, he pauses in a clearing at the bottom of a cliff face. You can just barely make out the remnants of a campfire near the steep stone wall. The forest is hauntingly dark behind you.

“I’M AFRAID WE’LL NEED TO STOP HERE FOR THE NIGHT,” he says plainly, “IT’S TOO DANGEROUS TO CONTINUE IN THE DARK.”

“What? I need to get home! I have work in the morning-” you feel yourself begin to panic and your hiking partner notices. For the first time since meeting him, he lowers his voice, kneeling down to your level.

“I Understand That You’re Afraid, But I Promise It Is Safer To Wait. I Can’t Keep You Out Of Harm In The Dark.” His voice is gentle, despite his face still being hidden. You feel that he’s telling the truth, but you don’t really have a choice either way.

“Okay, yeah. Just- you promise?”

“I Promise!” he says, clearly relieved, “Now, Let Me Start Up The Fire And We Can Rest!”

It takes him no time at all to get a small fire going. He tends to it with clearly practiced ease until it’s big enough to light the area. Now that you can see, it’s obvious that he comes here often. Trinkets and books are tucked neatly into the natural shelves of the cliff face.

Papyrus plunks down on the ground and begins searching around in his bag for something. You follow his lead and sit by the fire.

“Are You Hungry?” he asks.

“Hungry?”

“Yes, You’re Under My Protection And That Includes Sustenance. What Do You Want To Eat? I Have Um. Dried Fruit, Dried Meat.. Mostly Dried Things. Oh! I Still Have Bread Dough! Let’s Do That!” he decides.

What happens next takes you by complete surprise. Papyrus removes his helmet, sets it in the fire, and places the dough inside. Questionable cooking practices aside for the moment, this man is a godsdamned skeleton.

You spent the afternoon holding hands with a man made of bones!!

Papyrus notices your staring right away and a dusty pink-purple color rises to his cheekbones.

“Oh, Um! Sorry! Maybe I Should Have Said-?” It seems he’s lost all his earlier confidence now that his helmet is gone. “I Know I Don’t Look Very Heroic Without My Armor…” he trails off. He’s looking at his flame-engulfed helmet like he might try to put it back on.

You feel kind of bad? It has been a hell of a day and this guy is the only reason you’re not still on top of the mountain. Where you would have been alone. In the dark.

Skeleton or not, you think he’s a nice guy? So-

“Don’t talk like that, you look fine. The armor doesn’t make the knight.”

You may as well have handed him the sun with how brightly he smiles at you.

A milkshake slides across the counter and stops perfectly in front of you. It’s your favorite flavor, as always.

It seems like such a small thing, but you’ve realized lately that small gestures are worth that much more when you don’t speak. Grillby never told you as much, of course. You had to learn that on you own. Although honestly, you’re not sure how you missed it before.

You’ve been coming to Grillby’s for a while now and something about the place always makes your day brighter, not just including the warm glow from your favorite bartender.

One day, your favorite song happened to play on the jukebox in the corner.

When you forgot your wallet once, you offered to pay the next day, but were waved off.

On another occasion, you’d just been laid off from work, but left Grillby’s with a number to call about an opening elsewhere.

The last time Ebott saw a major storm, you got caught outside and stopped in to dry off. That’s when you finally started to see it.

Grillby had stayed with you while you warmed up at the counter. You remember him leaning on the other side, crackling at you while you tried to peel off your rain-soaked jacket. He had held out his hand for it and when you gave it him, he hugged it to his chest. Your jacket was dry in an instant, soft and warm like it was fresh from the dryer.

You had made some joke about wishing you could dry off that quickly. Instead of hearing more of that lovely crackling laugh, you watched as Grillby walked around the counter to you. He held out his hand, for you this time, and when you accepted, he pulled you in close.

The pieces fell in place from there.

You learned that the jukebox is actually bluetooth, controlled by Grillby’s cellphone. You had told him your favorite song the week prior.

It had been Grillby himself that informed you, though without many words, to not worry about paying for your meal that day.

And who had pulled out that week’s newspaper to stand at the counter with you, going over all the job listings one by one? Your favorite fiery barman, of course.

Now that you think about it, you don’t even think you ever told him your favorite flavor of milkshake. He just figured it out.

Once you noticed the pattern, it was impossible not to see. There were a hundred little things that Grillby had done to help you over the time you’d started stopping by.

That brings you back to today. Your arms are resting on the counter, idly sliding your drink back and forth in your hands. Grillby is off toward the other end of the bar, serving one of the other regulars.

When he’s done, he strolls right back over to you. Quiet as ever, save for the faint crackling of his fire. He does this often now, just standing contentedly across from you. It’s nice, but you have more on your mind than usual today.

“Are you like this with anyone else?”

He glances up at you questioningly.

“Are you like you are with me, with others too?”

Grillby stares at you for a moment before furrowing his brow. He shakes his head and very deliberately reaches his hand over, carefully looping his pinky with yours. A promise.

“geez, not even datin’ yet and you’re asking if grillbs is cheating? harsh.”

You turn to see a familiar skull, but you don’t miss how Grillby’s cheeks flush blue.

“Pardon?”

Sans shrugs as he take a seat next to you. “it’s an old fire elemental thing-”

Grillby swipes at him from across the counter. Sans casually dodges.

“-something about actions over words, yadda yadda. it’s like ancient flirting-”

Another swipe, another dodge.

“but if ya ask me, this hothead is just using it as an excuse-”

A fireball and a slightly singed hoodie.

“-an excuse to not actually ask you out first,” Sans finishes. Then, to Grillby: “do they even know you can talk?”

“He can TALK??”

It’s been months since your run-in at the bar. You almost could have forgotten about it, if not for the occasional nightmare. Well, that and the much more frequent thoughts of the man who saved you. Or rather the monster.

You keep hoping you’ll bump into him again, but somehow you haven’t yet. You’re pretty damn sure you would have noticed him if you had.

You’ve definitely never seen the guy at any of your usual haunts. Recently, you had even started frequenting places you’ve never been and still haven’t found him. Social media has been no help either.

The only thing you can come up with is that he just doesn’t get out much. Either that or he only hangs out around the rough side of town, where you met him. So… here you are.

You’re walking a street or two down from where you’d gotten lost before. It’s light out this time, of course, but you’ve still got your head on a swivel. This place is only slightly less dangerous during the day.

…

What are you doing? You don’t even know why you want to see this guy so badly. To thank him? To pay him back somehow? Just because?

All you know is that you just want to.

You sigh.

By now you’ve been walking for much longer than you originally intended to and the sun is getting lower. You should probably head home soon-

“Hey, that’s my fuckin’ dog!!”

Shit.

Someone on the next street sounds pissed, but that’s none of your business. You turn to walk back the way you came, only to hear a sharp yelp from behind you.

Should you…?

Another pained sound and more yelling is the only answer you get.

You keep walking toward the intersection.

When you reach the corner, you peak around to the right and see- that’s him!! The skeleton you’ve been looking for! But he’s on the ground?

He’s sitting on the sidewalk, leaned up against a building. From this side you can see that his left hand is on the side of his face, but you can’t tell what he’s doing.

Two unpleasant looking humans are standing in front of him with a large pitbull. They’re yelling something about dogs and monsters. Clearly the dog is the center of the conflict, you’re just not sure why.

Looking closer, you realize that one of the men is pulling the dog by its harness, but the leash leads back to the skeleton’s hand.

Did he steal the dog? That’s certainly what those humans are making it sound like, but you don’t want to believe that the same guy who saved you would do that.

You inspect the dog again. It looks scared and this time you can tell it’s pulling away from the humans. Then, one last detail catches your eye: a bright yellow patch that reads “SERVICE ANIMAL.”

Your eyes immediately fall back to the monster on the ground. He hasn’t moved an inch, but his hand is still on the side of his skull. Digging into it, you realize suddenly. His claws are pressing harshly into the crack between his false jaw and his skull.

He’s having some sort of episode! He’s on the ground because he’s having a medical emergency that the dog is supposed to help him with. And these humans are trying to take it!

You can see the situation clearly now, but what can you do? You’re just one person up against two thugs. Plus, an animal that could be unpredictable and a skeleton… who needs help.

This is exactly the sort of situation that you were in when he saved you. You won’t leave.

You’re trying to figure out what to do when you see the second human pull something metal from behind him. He rears it back and you realize he’s going to attack.

There’s no more time to think. Something flares to life in your chest and you just go.

Before the other humans can react, you’re in between them and the monster. The bat makes contact with your arm, but you push back.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

The other man lets go of the dog to grab you- only for it whirl on him and bite down hard. He screams as blood pours from his arm and his cohort tries in vain to get the dog off of him.

It’s a few seconds of bloody chaos that seem to last far too long, before suddenly you hear a loud BANG from behind you.

Everyone freezes.

All you can do is stare while the pitbull goes from a rage of fur and teeth to sitting obediently between the now-standing skeleton’s legs. Its eyes never leave the men behind you. Piercing red eyelights are locked onto the same two targets.

A fraction of a second passes before the men bolt, trailing blood behind them.

The dog doesn’t move an inch until the skeleton reaches up and flicks his metal jaw again, much quieter this time. You worry for a moment that the dog will go after them, but it just twirls around happily and jumps up at its owner’s legs. Said owner pulls an entire hotdog, bun and all, out of his pocket to give to it.

The pitbull’s wiggles of joy are a lot harder to find cute when its fur is still covered in blood.

You’re so engrossed by the whole dog situation that you don’t notice the eyelights fixed on you. When you look up, you can’t help but startle.

The skeleton blinks and you swear he must shape-shift with how different he suddenly looks. He loses almost half a foot of height when he slouches and his terrifying stare softens to a familiar nervous smile.

You don’t know what to say. But you have to say something.

“I think I’ve got dog shampoo at my house?”

That’s what you go with?!

The monster before you looks down at his dog, then back to you. Apparently he’s just as confused by your response as you are.

His eyelights scan over you and his browbones furrow. Another familiar expression on him.

He pulls out his phone and taps away for a few seconds before turning it to you.

ive got a healer at mine

Like… the dog?

You’re not sure what he’s getting at until he slowly points at your arm, where the bat made contact. That’s bad. The pain comes rushing in as you realize how hurt you are.

Healer. To heal you.

“Yes- please.”

You reach out your hand. He takes it.

The sun is warm, slowly fading as the day draws to a close. A few early crickets have found shady patches in the grass to chirp from and you try your best not to disturb them as you walk through.

You could sworn Sans said he’d be over here, but there’s no sign of him. It’s just acres of tall, soft grass and the barn up ahead. You know Sans wouldn’t be there this late in the day though.

“hens gotta get beauty sleep, don’ they? don’ wanna gettum all riled up too late,” he had told you once.

Still, it’s not like that bonehead to be late for dinner.

Probably off napping someplace, you think.

You take a quick look around outside the barn, just to be sure, and are about to give when you hear a familiar drawl from a nearby pile of straw.

“what’d th’ tedder say t’ th’ swather?”

You turn to see the skeleton you’d been looking for, happily cozied away into the straw.

“I don’t know, what?” you ask.

His eyes scrunch just slightly, making his ever-present smile that much more real.

“hey, bale.”

Even if you don’t quite remember which machines he’s talking about, the punchline is obvious so you chuckle anyway.

“Is that what you’ve been doing out here? Becoming one with the hay so you can make even worse jokes?”

Far from offended, Sans laughs that deep, quiet laugh of his and shuffles his way out of the pile… only to slide down onto the cushy layer of hay and grass on the ground.

“nah, ‘m gettin’ ready fer stargazin’,” he tells you. “care t’ join me?”

Sans pats the straw next to him. You’re supposed to be bringing him back to the house for Papyrus, but how can you say no to that?

You can’t help but smile as you settle down next to him. You’re laying side by side, watching stray clouds drift through the darkening sky, when you realize something.

“Sans, this is so itchy.”

Your friend tilts his head to look at you and you expect him to laugh again, but he smiles at you. His eyes crinkle just like before and he pats his chest.

“come’re,” is all he says.

You scoot closer, looking at at Sans for confirmation. His smile widens again and he pats that same spot on his sweater again.

You can’t pretend you haven’t noticed him getting more affectionate lately. He’s gotten into the habit of brushing against you, putting a hand on your shoulder when he greets you, and leaning on you when you’re standing next to each other.

This is new though. He’s asking you to close the gap this time, and you see no reason not to.

You lay your head on his chest, picking a stray bit of hay out of his woolly sweater. You’re laying perpendicular to each other now, looking up at the first few stars of the evening. You’re not sure how long you stay there like that.

The stars are beautiful out here, with no light to disturb them save for the fireflies in the grass. The crickets are chirping peacefully.

You feel Sans’ chest rising and falling gently, air lightly brushing past your face as he breathes. He doesn’t need to breathe as far as you know, so you wonder faintly if he’s doing that for you. Eventually the movement slows and you glance up at him, thinking he’d fallen asleep.

Instead, he’s looking at you with that familiar smile. His eyes widen when you make eye contact and he quickly looks back up at the sky. Green magic traces his cheekbones.

Neither of you say anything right away. You’re trying to decide if you should speak up when you hear him shift slightly.

Work-worn phalanges comb through your hair. Once, then twice, and then he hesitates.

“That was nice,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sans continues running his hand carefully through your hair. You shift slightly and close your eyes, relaxing into the feeling. Sans pulls his free arm out from under your shoulder and wraps it around you.

A few more minutes go by and you feel, more than hear, a deep rumble from his chest. If you hadn’t spent so much time with the farm cats, you might not have recognized right away. He’s purring.

The sound is soothing and the night is peaceful. It’s not long until the both of you doze off.

The tension in the air is almost palpable. This is the third blow-up fight you've been around to witness, not to mention how many there must be when you aren't over to visit.

You can tell that the captain is losing patience quickly and to his credit, he takes a shortcut away to calm down. Or just to seethe elsewhere. Rus just makes a hasty retreat up the stairs.

Unfortunately, that leaves you alone with the eldest of the skeleton brothers.

It irks you that the one monster here who causes the most problems is the one who feels entitled to stay put. 

“Are you ever not a dick to everyone?” you ask him, not bothering to hide the irritation in your voice.

The skeleton just eyes you up and down, then turns to leave. It’s as if he doesn’t even think you’re worth replying to. This guy-!

“I’m not done talking to you, Gaster!”

To your surprise, he actually does stop to look back at you. You had wondered if that might do it. Sans told you that almost no one calls him by his real name anymore. 

You’re not surprised by Gaster's expression though, which clearly indicates that he’s not taking you seriously. He’s only humoring you.

“Well?” he prompts, “Say your piece if you must say it.”

You didn’t really think you’d get this far with him, but you’re not about to back down now. It doesn’t matter if they’re related, he can’t get away with treating your friends like that. 

“You can’t keep picking fights with them over nothing. They’ve been nothing but kind to you after everything you did, and you still insist on being an asshole! Papyrus fought for you to have a place here even when Sans wanted nothing to do with you-”

He cuts you off.

“Awww, my baby brothers need you to fight their battles, human? Can’t monster up and kick me out themselves?”

He’s smiling, you realize. Gaster thinks this is funny.

You though? You’re beyond mad. It’s bad enough that he's such a dick, but to blatantly belittle the people who want to help him, even when they know he doesn’t deserve it? Unacceptable.

You don’t know comes over you. Something about his smug, above-it-all attitude just pushes you over the edge.

You reel back and aim a punch directly at his sternum, full force.

For a just a split second, you see his expression fall to absolute shock, before twisting back into a curious smile. Gaster catches your hand easily and you're certain that he’ll retaliate, but he doesn’t.

He's almost gentle as he easily pulls you toward him, forcing you to brace yourself against his chest. He wraps his free hand around your waist and grins down at you.

You avoid his gaze and try to pull away in a panic, but a summoned hand floats to your chin, lightly tilting it up to face him.

“Hey now, where’s all that bravado from a moment ago?” Gaster asks, layering a fake sweetness into his voice. “You had something to say, and now you have my attention.”

Somehow you find your voice.

“Let me go,” you tell him firmly. Or at least, as firmly as you can manage given the circumstance.

He’s still smiling as he does exactly what you ask, although much more slowly than you’d have liked. The extra hand he’d summoned lingers for just a few seconds, brushing gently down your neck before vanishing.

“Is that all?” His tone is almost teasing. Stars, you can’t stand him.

“Apologize to your brothers.”

Gaster barks out a laugh at that.

“Or what?”

You… don’t have an answer. This is one of the strongest monsters you know of. There’s no card you can really play here. Although maybe-

“You’ll find out,” you bluff.

He doesn’t believe you. Gaster's amused grin is obvious enough of that. Even so, he raises his hands in defeat.

“I concede. I’ll play nice from now on,” he says, before leaning down to whisper into your ear, “but only because you asked~”

You’re left frozen, trying to process his words, as he straightens up and turns to leave again. He’s halfway out the door when, at the last second, he calls back over his shoulder.

“I see why they keep you around now, human. You’re cute when you’re pissed.”

You’re sitting on the edge of a soft blanket, laid in the grass with a telescope set in front of you. Takeout bags are crumpled up between you both in lieu of a picnic basket.

Your eyes are fixed on the glittering gems of the cave ceiling.

His eyes are fixed on you.

There are a million things going through his head right now, but none of them are right. None of them are good enough.

Stars know why you decide to hang out with him so much, out of everyone in the Underground. You seem to like spending time with him, though. Maybe as much as he enjoys spending time with you.

Sans sighs quietly and turns his eyelights back up to the faux stars he’s looked at a million times before. He already knows each one by heart. He’d rather keep looking at you, but he knows he’s been pushing it lately.

It’s not that you’ve responded badly to any of his advances; it’s more like you haven’t responded at all. Part of him worries that you noticed, but don’t know how to say you're not interested. An even bigger part of him worries that you haven’t noticed because you’d never even consider him.

He knows he’s not exactly all-that. He’s a lazy bag of bones, with a messy room, a dirty hoodie, and a slew of bad habits. Folks think he’s funny at least, but date material? Sans isn't so sure on that one.

--

“Probably not still means ‘maybe!’” you’d once told him.

--

That was on your way to meet Undyne. He’d warned you that she probably wouldn’t want to be all buddy-buddy with a human, but it turned out okay. The fight ended pretty quickly when you threatened to spoil the latest season of her favorite anime.

Sans chuckles at the memory.

“You better not be laughing at me, boneboy,” you say, elbowing him teasingly.

“nah, just remembered something dumb,” he tells you. Even though he was kinda laughing at you. 

“What, you remember what your reflection looks like?”

“whoa, you tryin’ to kill me?” Sans dramatically puts a hand to his forehead. “i’m gonna dust right now from how wounded i am.”

You laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You’re pretty, I promise.”

That’s a setup. He can see it coming from a mile away. But he plays along, for the bit.

“pretty huh?” His ever-present grin widens, expecting something like ‘pretty LAME,’ but instead you say-

“Yeah.”

For a moment, Sans can only stare at you. He can feel magic flooding to his face and suddenly the cave wall on the other side of him is very interesting.

“heh, good one.”

There’s a pause.

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

Sans doesn’t turn back to look at you.

He couldn’t say who moved first, but somehow, your hand and his find their way together. Your pinky brushes against his, and he moves automatically, settling his hand over yours.

You intertwine your fingers with his.

Neither of you say anything, but Sans can feel his soul speed up. He wonders if your heartbeat is doing the same.

Could- Can he-?

Sans risks a glance at you. You’re looking away too. That gives him some confidence, somehow.

He shifts, angling his body closer to yours. When you turn back to him, he freezes.

Even in dim light of Waterfall, he can see your face turning red. To match his turning blue, he thinks.

He doesn’t mean to, but his eyes flit down to your mouth for just a moment. At this distance, you definitely notice.

You lean in ever so slightly.

Sans squeezes your hand gently and his other hand moves up to rest lightly against your neck.

He tilts his head, and you angle yours just so…

Sans sighs into the kiss. The amount of stress and uncertainty from this whole situation lifts from his shoulders.

He presses just a little bit harder before breaking apart.

Your heart rate did speed up.

You’ve been dancing around this topic for nearly two months.

He knows that you like him.

You know that he likes you. His constant preening of you is obvious enough of that. It’s almost like he's compelled to touch you when you’re near each other.

He’ll do things like fix a button for you or pick a piece of lint off your shoulder. More than once he’s wiped a stray eyelash away with his thumb and you think something will happen… only for him to turn right back to his work.

Gaster is a professional guy. You can respect that. But at this point you’d accept a love confession via PowerPoint! You just need him to actually say something!

Even his brothers have been bugging him to bring it up when they think you’re out of earshot. For some reason he just won’t. And you’re getting tired of waiting.

His back is turned to you, wings on display, as he fusses with some machine or other on the table. Gaster mutters to himself in frustration in that light, bird-like language only monsters seem to understand.

You know he hears you approach him, as he folds one wing closer to his body to let you see the table. You’re not here to ask about his projects again, though. Instead, you inspect the gold-speckled wing next to you.

A single feather is out of place.

You gently align it with the rest of the wing, smoothing your hand over it.

Your skeletal friend doesn’t look at you, but can’t hide how his usually deft hands fumble the screwdriver he’d been holding. It clatters loudly on the table.

His face is dusted with familiar gold-colored magic. The speckles along his cheekbones are highlighted.

Fixing one feather got that much of a reaction?

Either you just majorly missed the mark on wing culture, or you’ve discovered why he hasn’t made any moves himself. The fact that his wing is still held steady before you tells you it must be the latter.

Skeletal fingers tap lightly against the table. You recognize that particular motion as one for when he’s deep in thought. Gaster won’t look at you.

You don’t want to keep waiting for him. So you won’t.

Your hand lightly wraps around his wrist and you pull it away from the table. He follows the movement, turning to face you.

His face is a mix of emotions, surprise and confusion mainly, as his eyelights flick between your face and your hand.

“You’re taking a break,” you tell him. He opens his mouth—undoubtedly to protest—but you continue. “I need you for something.”

Gaster blinks at you, but says nothing else as he allows you to pull him out of his office and into the living room. You guide him over to the couch and gesture for him to sit.

He looks nervously between you and the couch for a moment, but ultimately does what you ask. He settles on one end of the couch, wings pushed aside to sit comfortably. His hands are folded in his lap as he looks to you for more information.

You move his hands out of the way and he actually squawks in surprise as you make you way onto his lap.

“What in stars’ name-?!”

He quiets as you sit back against his chest and pull one of his soft wings around you.

Gaster stays frozen for a few moments.

“I thought you were dragging me away from work to have a conversation,” he says slowly.

“We already had my side of this conversation,” you say sharply. “You may have said I'm a patient soul, but doesn’t mean I’ll wait for you forever.”

You tilt your head back against his sternum to look up at him.

“I… Can’t you wait just a little bit longer…?” he asks quietly, almost under his breath.

“No. If you want me as a partner, you want me as a partner. If you don’t, you don’t. Which is it?”

Gaster finally moves, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his head forward onto your shoulder. He sounds almost desperate.

“I’m not ready.”

Your anger stalls.

This is the most vulnerability you’ve ever seen from this monster. The usually-stoic scientist you know so well is downright emotional. He’s clinging to you like a lifeline.

It takes a few seconds to recognize his words for what they are. He wants to have something with you. He does, so why does he want more time?

You must take too long to answer, because you’re pulled from your thoughts by what can only be tears on your shoulder. His wings curl tighter around you.

Any lingering trace of your earlier irritation flickers out. There’s something here that you’re missing here. There must be.

“What do you need? To be ready, I mean."

“I don’t know-”

“What- why aren’t you ready?”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you really have to be ready?”

That seems to give him pause. You crane you neck to look back at him.

He’s staring at you in utter disbelief. You make no mention of the blue-gold tear tracks on his face.

“No,” he whispers, awe clear in his voice. “I- I don’t, do I?”

“Then why don’t we just try and figure this all out together? Whatever that wonderful mind of yours is getting stuck on, we’ll fix it together,” you suggest.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?” he says softly. “I don’t know how you manage to get me out of my own head so easily.”

You can’t help what you say next.

“Crazy what happens who you actually talk to me, huh?”

He just plops his head back down onto your shoulder and sighs.