Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Finding out that Dust got a job overnight was definitely not what she expected to hear first thing in the morning. How did "have good sex once more before the world ends" turn into this so quickly?

Guess the universe itself found a solution to the problem after all.

She really should let go of any previous assumptions of what life itself consisted of, because holding onto those structures while trying to listen to Dust talk was starting to cause her a massive headache.

There are multiple universes. Got it, sounds cool. There are multiple versions of every person, including Dust and her. Yeah, correlates with the multiverse stuff. These things she could somehow fathom.

The hard part was trying to accept that Dust had a dream last night, where a "God of Negativity" offered to hire him for a team of murderers that destroys alternate universes, and in exchange would provide him an opportunity to live permanently in a castle in a universe of his own. And apparently, for some strange reason, she would be allowed to join the ride, and all it would take is a quick step through a multi-dimensional portal.

Yes, it could technically be just a dream, but something about the way Dust was telling her all this seemed serious. He even seemed... Hopeful? Had she ever seen him look hopeful before?

Dust held the title of the science genius here, so she refused to think about the practical side too much. She instead tried to focus on the possible positive outcomes.

So, problem number one. The state of the Underground and the possibility of losing control of the timeline to Chara; gone. They'd be teleported away, and after some apparent multidimensional magic, this universe would cease to exist.

Problem number two, Dust's withdrawal symptoms from not being able to kill; gone. He'd get to do exactly that. He would essentially be hired as a hitman after all.

Problem number... Wait. Were there any more problems? Wasn't this the perfect solution to everything that was wrong with the world?

Is Dust's current sour mood due to him actually being afraid that she'd say no to this?

...

"so, yeah. you probably think i've totally lost it. and i can't prove to you that this shit is real either. i just... know it is."

"I know. You wouldn't lie to me."

"nope." Dust agreed.

She did believe him, no matter how loudly her mind was trying to scream at her that there was nothing believable in what he'd just told her. But, this wasn't a question for her mind. It was a question for some other part of her, not just a bunch of brain cells that had no idea what was important in life.

Her entire being had never been more sure about anything than the answer she was going to give.

"Okay. When can we leave?"

Dust finally looked at her, for the first time since he'd started talking. His expression was blank and unreadable.

"What? If you're waiting for an answer, you just got one, I'm ready to go whenever. If you still want me to go with you, that is."

"of course i... i mean..." Dust paused to pinch the space between his sockets. "you're seriously just gonna throw your entire life away for this? this entire universe, everyone you've ever known will be not only dead but gone, neither the surface nor the underground will no longer exist after this."

"Yup, that's what you told me." She replied somewhat unenthusiastically. This was becoming another case of 'Dust not realizing that she can make decisions about her own life'...

...

Dust, yet again, failed to find any trace of hesitation or dishonesty in her intent. There was something about her determination, something that wasn't... Normal. Was Nightmare aware of this? Would he try to use her to his own advantage as well? He promised that he'd protect them both but... Was Dust unknowingly making a deal with the devil here?

Of course, they couldn't stay here either, neither of them could. Dust knew that Nightmare was probably going to destroy this AU anyways now that it had caught his attention, so the only options for them were to either disappear along with the timeline, or leave together. He was essentially forced to take Nightmare's offer.

At least he found some comfort in the fact that, if it came down to it, Dust would be there to protect her. He wouldn't hesitate to kill for her, after all.

He would no longer just watch from a distance.

...

"Are you ready to leave all this behind?" Her voice interrupted his thought process.

Dust was quiet for a long moment. Not because he didn't know the answer. He was ready, this timeline had nothing left for him anymore, he'd gotten rid of everything worthwhile a long time ago.

But, maybe there was one last thing that needed to be done. Something that she deserved to know.

...

Dust stood up from his bed, gesturing for her to follow him. She look confused for a moment, before standing up as well and walking behind Dust as he lead her out of his room and towards the end of the upstairs hallway. He stopped in front of a door, his gaze dropping to his feet.

Her heart was pounding. This was a room she'd never been in before. She'd never even seen Dust enter it, despite it being a part of his own house. It seemed like he was deliberately avoiding even looking at the door in front of him now. This only proved that her choice to avoid asking any questions about it before had been a smart one.

She knew that there had been someone else living in the house, someone who had obviously been very close to Dust.

She also knew that Dust had killed everyone.

Dust's sockets closed for a moment and he took a deep breath in preparation, before turning his gaze to the door.

He decided to open it, and stepped in.

...

She followed, approaching the doorframe carefully, gauging Dust's reaction. He was still, gaze focused at the floor ahead of him. But he made no effort to stop her, so she decided to let herself in as well.

She took a quick look around the room.

A skull and crossbones flag. Action figures. A racecar bed. A box of bones on the floor.

She didn't have to process the sight for long. Everything about it screamed 'little brother'.

The words started coming out without her even realizing.

"This is-"

"don't." Dust stopped her.

She looked at Dust warily. He wasn't giving away any physical reactions, so she decided to leave the sentence unfinished and continue her observation.

Compared to the rest of the house, and especially the disaster that was Dust's room, this one was surprisingly clean. It looked like as if it had been purposefully left untouched by the chaos that was visible everywhere in the Underground. Every item had a carefully thought out spot. A feeling of child-like joy was radiating from each object her eyes landed onto.

She stepped closer to the table of action figures to observe closer. She picked up one of them in her hand, brushing some (non-monster related) dust off of it.

"I heard him once, you know."

Dust didn't react, but his eyelights sharpened their focus on the floor.

"I mean, I didn't hear any words, but I felt something. It was... About the spaghetti. I asked if it was okay if I take some. And... Somehow I got the feeling that he'd said yes."

She wasn't looking at Dust, but she could hear his breathing deepening slightly. For a moment she wondered if she'd gone too far, sensitive things from his past weren't exactly something he was usually eager to talk about...

But, he wasn't trying to shut her up either. She was so close to something here.

She took a deep breath before asking the question.

"What was his name?"

"papyrus." Dust answered immediately, as if the ability to do so would vanish if he allowed himself to hesitate.

She nodded in reply.

...

She'd seen the mailboxes on the outside of the house. She knew that 'Dust' wasn't his real name.

And now, there was only one option left.

...

She decided to keep the conversation on what he was probably more comfortable with.

"He seemed like a cool guy."

Dust was quiet for a moment, before an unexpected small huff of laughter left him. When she looked at him, his gaze was focused beside him, eyelights looking distant.

There was a hint of melancholy in his expression, but the smile on his face was more genuine than she'd ever seen before.

"he... says it's nice to meet you." Dust spoke, gently and quietly.

The sudden rush of emotions that hit her threatened to spill out, but she swallowed the tears down and instead settled her eyes to where his gaze was focused on.

She no longer cared whether this was a sign of insanity. If she was ready to abandon her home universe to live in a castle filled with a bunch of murderous skeleton monsters, she wasn't really deserving of the label 'sane' anymore either.

And, if that was how things were gonna be, they could just be insane together.

"Nice to meet you too, Papyrus. I'm happy I got to try out your spaghetti."

The wave of joy that suddenly filled the room caused both of them to smile simultaneously.

...

'that's the power of your intent, bro...'

She spent the rest of the day thinking about what to pack to bring with her to the new universe they would be settling into. They didn't exactly have any useful details about the 'conditions' of their new home, the only info Dust had been given in his dream was that their "needs would be taken care of".

Did the God of Negativity know about the needs of a human female? Would she be able to do some multiversal shopping to restock on hygiene products and whatnot? Questions for later she supposed.

She decided to focus on packing things that held some emotional value, and couldn't be replaced with any store bought stuff. Her favourite clothes, her phone obviously (would it even work?), and lastly, she visited the library to retrieve the weird space book. The one that confused asteroids and planets with each other, and talked about travelling through black holes as if the author themselves had gone through one (which obviously, they hadn't). It was just a nice memory to have from her time in the Underground.

With a small backbag full of her stuff, she returned to Dust's place, knocking briefly on the door to signal her arrival. When she opened the door, she was met with him sitting on the couch, staring at the wall in front of him.

"Have you packed?"

Dust shrugged.

"don't need anything."

She sighed. Dust was apparently planning to leave this universe in a grumpy mood.

"C'mon, there must be something you need, some skeleton... I dunno, creams or whatever you use for your... Bones?"

Her attempt at lightening up the mood apparently worked, since Dust's tired grin twitched up slightly.

"...skeleton creams?" He repeated with confusion and a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yeah! Or uh..."

Gosh, he even wore the same clothes everyday...

"Get something to remind you of this place. I know there's probably a lot of stuff you'd rather not remember, but take something with a good memory attached to it, in case you get homesick. Please?"

It was worth a try. This was his last chance to do so anyways. Even if he refused, maybe she could still sneak into his (or his brother's) room and grab something into her bag. He definitely needed to have some sort of a comfort item for this, a physical reminder of the good things from his past.

However, to her surprise, Dust seemed to actually be considering her request. He continued staring at the wall, but was now grinding his teeth together, obviously deep in thought.

After a moment, he blinked out of existance.

That was either a really good or a really bad sign...

...

It didn't take long for him to return. Maybe a couple of minutes. He appeared silently where her back was turned to, so she got slightly startled by his sudden voice.

"ready?"

She turned around to face him. Her eyes landed briefly on the newly appeared red scarf around his neck, with some snowflakes stuck to it.

She did not comment on it. She merely smiled in approval, and nodded.

"Yeah. Ready."

...

With a confidence as if he'd done this a million times before, Dust spoke, addressing his words to an invisible third person in the room.

"alright boss, we're good to go."

It was finally time to see whether all this talk about multiple universes held true. Not that she didn't believe it or thought that Dust was going insane, but it still felt... Weird. They just stood there in silence, waiting. For what exactly, she wan't even sure. She figured that Dust couldn't have known much better either.

But, the weirdness didn't last for long. Not more than 20 seconds later, a loud sound echoed from somewhere nearby, as if a wall of the house was being ripped in half. The sound was followed by an empty space in the air next to them opening, and both of them were left staring at an impossibly dark, seemingly endless void.

The portal was open.

Dust looked at her once more for confirmation. The unavoidable shocked expression on her face was probably masking her readiness, but she knew from experience that Dust never liked to settle for just her facial expressions or words to get the truth out of her. No, he was searching for something else, looking for his answer.

After he'd supposedly found what he'd been waiting for, he stepped closer to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and after a brief moment of eye contact, he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. He stayed there for a moment, sockets closed, the fireplace-like crackle of the portal the only other thing audible besides his deep breaths.

"promise to hold on tight?" He asked quietly.

She nodded.

"Yeah."

Dust tightened the grip on her shoulders once more, before picking her body up into his arms, one hand under her knees, and the other supporting her back. She threw her own arms around Dust's neck, and kept her promise, pressing her body tight against him.

Dust's took them to the edge of the portal and tightened his hold on her, before taking the final step.

Chapter Text

A travel through the void had never lasted for as long as this one. The space between physical locations had never before felt so cold, so dark, so empty. Dimension hopping was no small feat, it seemed. Dust would be fine, obviously, he'd fucked with shortcuts and void physics before but... What about someone who hadn't?

Dust could only hold her body tighter, and hope for the best.

Eventually the step he'd taken hit solid ground. He stumbled forwards, his kneecaps hitting a rug on the floor. The sudden change in air pressure forced a cough out of him despite the lack of lungs in his body.

Dust took a quick glance at his surroundings, to make sure they weren't in immediate danger. After determining the dark walls of the castle and the somewhat office-looking room safe for now, he turned his full attention to the limp body in his arms.

"y/n? sugar, are you okay?" He asked, shaking her body rather forcefully.

She didn't react. Dust's hand grabbed her neck, checking her pulse point. After a few seconds of anxious waiting, he sighed in relief at the feeling of her veins pulsing under his phalanges. Her chest was also rising and falling in time with her breath, which further reassured him that she'd only taken a bit more than she could chew with the sudden multi-dimensional shortcut and all.

They were safe. And, if what he'd been promised in his dream was true, they'd never have to go back to the timeline plagued with resets ever again.

...

"Welcome."

Dust's skull snapped to the direction the sudden voice had come from. He recognized it being the same one as in his dream, only he was yet to connect the voice to the face of it's owner. And even now, despite frantically looking around the room, he could not find the source.

"who is it? where are you?" Dust wanted to believe that this entity wouldn't harm them, but he couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling rising in his chest, being in the presence of a creature obviously a lot more powerful than him. It wasn't exactly a position he'd enjoyed being in before.

"You already know who I am. And, you should not worry about the location of my corporeal form, as it simply isn't... Necessary."

Dust processed the words for a long moment. It seemed like there was some sort of a culture shock accompanied with being transferred to an alternate universe. Or was it just Nightmare's presence in general that made him question the very foundations of life?

Maybe it would be better to appease him and try to stay on his good side for now.

"i... i understand. thank you for your help, boss." He repeated what he'd told him in his dream, with as much confidence as he could muster right now.

Nightmare spoke again, somehow the sound inching closer to them.

"Hmm. Very well. I'm assuming you are unharmed by your little commute, how about your companion there?"

Dust hugged her body slightly closer to his ribs, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"i think she's fine. just blacked out, she's not really used to-"

The door of the office slammed open loudly, cutting Dust's sentence off. In the doorframe stood a skeleton, looking surprisingly similar to Dust himself, only with dark, empty sockets oozing with black liquid, and a glowing red target on his chest.

Dust's hold on her tightened. He did not like this guy.

"awww boss, ya already brought 'em in? shoulda told me!" The skeleton's cheerful voice sounded from the door.

He started approaching Dust with quick, confident steps. A low warning growl started rising in Dust's chest, he didn't want this stranger to get any closer to him, any closer to her...

"and hot damn, she's a cute one too! i knew it! aw, she got knocked out from a lil shortcut? ya know, i'm an expert in first aid, could do some mouth to mouth if she ever needs-"

Before Dust could think about his actions, he'd summoned a flurry of bone attacks and sent them flying like darts towards the other skeleton. But, unfortunately, the stupid bag of bones just effortlessly dodged them, which in turn encouraged Dust to roll her body from his arms onto the ground and step in between her and the arrogantly grinning skeleton. He summoned one of his larger blasters, it's mouth aiming straight towards the glowing red target in front of him.

Before he could fire though, the gun was wrapped with black, gooey, tentacle-like vines. The grin on the other skeleton's face widened.

"ENOUGH. Killer. He's EXP-deprived and in a very volatile state right now, knock it off."

The two skeletons stared at each other unblinkingly, Dust's magic crackling in the air and the glare in his now empty sockets deadly, while Killer's chest was heaving with his breath, a barely uncontrolled aura of excitement surrounding him.

"Besides, my castle is not your playground. Killer, take the human to her room to recover. I will have a talk with your new colleague in the meantime."

Dust reacted by desummoning the blaster and replacing it with a wall of bones in between him and Killer.

"he's not taking her anywhere." He spoke through his teeth in warning, never taking his gaze off the other skeleton.

Killer tilted his head, a fresh gush of black tears dripping from his sockets onto the ground. He shrugged, seemingly unaffected by Dust's threats.

"boss's orders." Killer stated simply, before teleporting behind Dust and picking the limp body from the ground into his arms.

Dust, naturally, tried to attack him with all his power. He kept trying to throw bones, summon blasters, grab his stupid soul, to do anything to hit this guy straight through the target on his chest. He used all his energy trying to fight back, but he was somehow powerless to do anything but watch as this idiot doppelganger of his carried her unconscious body away from him, to stars knows where.

The fucker's name wasn't exactly easing his mind either...

Only when they'd exited the room, Dust realised that his body was restrained with the same black tentacles that had trapped the mouth of his blaster shut.

If he'd been powerful enough in his AU to kill every species of monster with ease, he'd just been proven that this was definitely not the case here. He was trying to fight against himself after all, while being restricted by a literal god-like being. And, even in an LV-hungry state like this, he realized that intending to attack the entity that saved him from an endless cycle of death and suffering would be straight up idiotic.

"I understand that you are suffering from an overflow of magic. I will assign you to a mission as soon as possible so that your levels will be evened out. But your colleagues, and more importantly, my employees, are NOT on your hit list. Understood?"

Dust's skull dropped. The hold of the tentacles around him released, and he again fell to his knees on the carpet. He had so many questions, but he figured none of them would be what Nightmare would be happy to answer to. So, he stayed quiet, despite the obvious question presented to him.

"I have made a promise to you, and you will make one for me in return. Unless you are having second thoughts about your decision?"

"no, boss." Dust replied, defeated.

"Good. So, now... What is the deal with this human?"

Killer carried the unconscious human through the living quarters of the castle, to one of the rooms that had been thoroughly cleaned in preparation for their arrival. He laid the human on the bed, covering her body with a blanket, and pulled a chair for himself to keep an eye on her.

He hadn't yet been given the full briefing on what the new guy's story was, as the only thing Nightmare had gone on and on about was the 'urgency' of their arrival. And of course, the almighty Mr. Darkness had recruited him and Horror to do the dirty work, which left them taking the past couple of days off missions in favour of deep cleaning these damn quest rooms, as if the LV they'd gained was suddenly more useful for making them act like some fucking maids of his...

And hell, judging by how quickly this new copy of him had launched into fight mode, he could understand why Nightmare had been in such a hurry to get them safe. To get her safe, more specifically. The guy must've been two seconds away from blasting the girl, if a bit of harmless teasing was enough to get him to aim a blaster at his soul with the honest intent to kill.

Killer kinda hoped he'd stay like this though. He was already a ton of fun to mess with. And his apparent obsession of this female human seemed to be the perfect weapon to get him riled up over.

He could understand why an alternate version of him would go for her though. Killer wasn't stupid after all, neither blind. But he was impossibly curious about how this supposed "relationship" managed to come about. He doubted that the new guy had a surfaced timeline, he wouldn't be in the state that he currently is, if his AU had been a stable one. So, where the hell did this human come from? Fall from the sky? That's how they usually come about...

And what in the multiverse had convinced Nightmare to bring her along with the new guy? She's a LV 1 as well, practically useless in combat... Could it be because of that determined soul of hers? Or had Nightmare just realized that his employees were getting pretty bored of jacking it?

Well, his questions would have to wait. Because now, he had something more important to focus on. He hadn't had a living target in a while after all...

Chapter Text

*Thunk*

Warm...

Warm and soft.

She was lying on something warm and soft. But her vision was surrounded with a familiar darkness, one that she'd escaped from an unnatural amount of times before.

Had she died again?

*Thunk*

...No, her heart had been beating this whole time, and her lungs were getting used to the new air, breathing in as if everything was alright.

*Thunk*

Her reset point was gone. Despite not having paid much attention to it's existance before, its absence now was painfully obvious. She was immediately faced with the realization, accompanied with a slight feeling of anxiety; she wasn't invincible anymore.

*Thunk*

What the hell is that sound?

She slowly blinked her eyes open.

As soon as she did, a small throwing knife flew past her eyes and thunked into the wall, the handle stopping an inch away from her face.

Naturally, she screamed. She tried frantically to get up and escape, launching her into a small coughing fit in the process, likely due to not having used her vocal cords for a while.

"whoa, easy there kitten, don't hurt ya self..."

Somewhere, there was a voice, sounding oddly familiar...

After a few seconds of struggling, her head cleared out enough to notice that her attempts at escaping were failing horribly. Oh! Maybe it was due to the twenty-something knives nailing the blanket on top of her to the mattress, pinning her body immobile under it? What the fuck!?

She managed to get her elbows under her to be able to look around the room, and finally her panicked eyes landed on the source of the voice. Her first reaction was a slight relief at the sight of Dust sitting next to her...

Until she realized, that this skeleton wasn't Dust at all. Dust didn't cry. Definitely not weird (kinda gross) black tears.

Suddenly, the memories of what she'd recently gone through started flooding back. She remembered her conversation with Dust, she remembered him picking her up and stepping through the portal, she could even remember how cold and empty the void had felt, before her body had eventually given up trying to hold onto the reality as she once knew it.

The last thing she remembered, was how tightly Dust had hugged her limp body against him.

It calmed her down a little, knowing that this new face most likely belonged to one of these "alternate versions" of him.

The new skeleton spoke, twirling another knife in his hand.

"ya know what they say, it's hard to hit a moving target... but it's even harder to not hit one, so stay still will ya?"

She barely had time to process his words, before a careless flick of his hand sent the knife flying in the air, followed by it shooting down and landing blade first into the mattress, right between her legs. Literally, like an inch from her pussy.

She couldn't even scream anymore. She could only stare with wide eyes at the newest knife now stuck to the mattress.

The skeleton beside her chuckled at her (lack of a) reaction, and her momentary shock started to turn more into a feeling of... Familiarity?

"You really are the same person..." She muttered to herself, still gazing at the knife.

The skeleton reacted by launching himself closer to her, his hands now resting on his knees, skull tilted and looming over her face. His enthusiastic presence so close to her so suddenly was a bit... Too much.

"ya kiddin'? he did shit like this to ya too? no way! right, i gotta know the details, howd'ya manage with his exp deficiency n' all that? it must've gotten freaky, right? ya like the rough stuff, huh?"

Okay, fucking hell. Suddenly she wasn't sure whether these two skeletons could even be distantly related to each other, judging by the amount of words this one was spitting out of his mouth unprompted. She could only stare into his empty sockets, her brain not keeping up with anything he was blabbering about.

"aww don't act so shy, i know ya two fucked, recently too, can smell ya all over each other... heh heh... gotta thing for skeletons, huh?"

"Dude, what-" She finally started catching up with his words. "I'm not answering that, I don't even know who you are!"

"killer. knife to meet ya."

She continued staring at him in disbelief. She could've almost left the joke ignored, if it hadn't been punctuated with said weapon pointing towards her face. She figured quickly that this wasn't the first time he'd introduced himself like this, and it wouldn't be the last either.

Also, these skeletons really liked literal names, huh?

"Killer?" She repeated, considering for a moment to pull her hand out of the blanket for a proper greeting. But the thought died as soon as his voice spoke again.

"you'll be screaming it later." He winked.

...Alright. This guy was a walking bad pun and pickup line dispenser. Got it.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, opting to hold off on the handshake for now.

"Where's Dust?" She asked instead.

Killer leaned back on his chair, finally giving her some breathing space. He carelessly rubbed on a dirty spot on his knife.

"dust, huh? that's a fitting nickname for what he tried to do a few moments ago..."

"What?"

He shrugged and nodded his skull towards the door.

"don't worry kitten, he's in the office, havin' a chat with the boss."

Boss... He was talking about Nightmare, right? The God of Negativity, who had apparently kept his word and saved her and Dust from their home universe.

"So it is real..." She muttered to herself again.

Killer tilted his skull, studying her expression. He spun the knife in his hand around once, and stood up from his chair. Slowly, but very deliberately, he placed his free hand on the wall and leaned over her, skull facing down and some of his eye goop dripping on her chest covered by the blanket.

"what's your name then?"

Before she could even think of the reply, Killer brought the flat edge of his knife to rest under her jaw, tilting her head up slightly.

"or should i just call ya 'mine'?"

Okay, that one she should've seen coming a mile away. Her reaction time definitely needed some improvement again.

"I- I don't think you should."

'God, don't stutter! That's exactly what's gonna make a guy like this twice as excited!'

"hm? why's that? little dustybones of yours gonna get jealous?" His voice sounded dangerously amused.

Uh oh. Oh no. This was not happening right now.

What was it with these skeletons torturing her?

Deep breath.

"I'll... Tell you my name if you stop with the knife... Stuff."

Killer grinned. The blade travelled from her chin to her cheek.

"bargaining, huh? careful with that, we don't exactly like to play fair here..." His voice lowered in warning.

He tapped the flat of the blade against her cheek a couple of times, before pulling it away (with a theatrical spin of course) and shoving it into his pocket.

"but, you're lucky i really wanna know the name behind that pretty face, so..."

With a snap of his phalanges, all the knives around her disappeared. He leaned his skull even closer, enough for her to feel his breath on her skin.

"your turn."

Her face was flushing. Her mouth was left hanging open. Her body was betraying her, losing the battle against trying to not react to his presence with anything else but confusion and slight, justified fear.

Yes. She did probably have a 'thing' for skeletons at this point. But that was because of Dust, not because of this knife-obsessed, foul-mouthed, arrogant asshole, who was just being overly flirty and annoying and probably just as strong and powerful as Dust, had a nice voice, was kinda cute, definitely fuckable...

...

Killer's grin grew wider. Partly because of the fact that she was having trouble saying the one word she knew better than anyone, but also because of the lustful thoughts he could feel resonating from her soul from being this close to him.

The new guy really had picked a good one...

...

"keep me waitin' kitten and i'll bring the knives back..." His breathy voice fanned her face again.

Oh, yeah. He'd asked her a question. She didn't want him to bring the knives back. No, definitely not, she wasn't even considering the option...

"Y/n." She managed to speak just before taking too long to make it seem like she was hesitating.

Killer chuckled. His free hand came up to wrap a strand of her hair around one of his phalanges. He was so close, too close, her face was getting way too hot...

...

Suddenly, Killer's skull snapped towards the door. His hand on her hair stilled, but stayed in place.

Her reaction came delayed, but when she managed to turn her gaze to the door, a sudden cold rush of fear made her body activate it's freeze-reflex.

In the doorframe stood another skeleton. Definitely not Dust. This one was tall, broad, one could say huge compared to the other two. But that wasn't the thing that concerned her.

No. It was the gaping hole in his skull, the rusty stains on his hoodie that looked disturbingly like dried blood, and the huge axe that was hanging from his hand. Those concerned her.

How did a creature this big even manage to sneak up on them, so silently too?

"uh, heya there big guy, got some guests over..." Killer spoke, eyeing the other skeleton. Did he sound nervous? Why did the possibility of him sounding nervous cause another wave of panic to flush through her?

The skeleton didn't reply. She could see his ribs moving in time with his rapidly deepening breaths, his lone glowing red eyelight unwavering and focused only on her.

There were two options why what happened next happened the way it did. It was either due to the fact that she'd gotten way too comfortable with these skeletons and her survival instincts had finally lept out the window. The other possibility was that they suddenly returned with such force that she was left unable to do anything but stare in shock at her incoming death.

The large skeleton's eyelight shrunk into a barely visible dot and his grip on the handle of his axe tightened, before he crossed the room with two abnormally long steps. The last thing she saw was him flinging his weapon back, with an expression of cold, murderous insanity on his face...

...Before her body was scooped from the bed into bony arms. Blanket included.

The blade of the axe landed in the middle of the bed where she'd been less than a second ago, the force of it splitting the frame in half with a loud crash. She let out a horrified scream at the sight and hugged herself tighter against Killer's ribs, as her body was finally listening to the instinct to get as far away from this beast as possible.

The skeleton yanked the axe off the broken bed, and without any hesitation he swung again, this time his weapon travelling through an empty space where his target had been just a second ago. And now, it was nowhere to be seen.

His prey had escaped.

Chapter Text

"ya 'right kitten?"

Huh?

Alright?

Yes, if hyperventilating, trembling, and clutching desperately onto a monster named 'Killer' sufficed.

The familiar feeling of the world spinning around her had faded, but she was unable to open her eyes. Her arms were grabbing Killer's shoulders, legs wrapped around his hipbones. Her chest was pressed against something warm and almost electric on his ribcage, the blanket covered in holes the only thing preventing direct contact.

"hey, guess the big guy just had a question to axe ya..." Killer tried again, with an underlying tenseness in his voice.

The absurdity of joking about her having almost been chopped in half just seconds ago surprisingly forced a small laugh out through her shaky breaths. Dark humour to the rescue and all that.

Killer was not smiling though.

"could ya, uh... back off a little there..." He spoke through clenched teeth.

What? Back off?

Was he for real? After all that flirting and teasing?

She tilted her head up to look at Killer's face, expecting him to stare down at her with the skeleton equivalent to bedroom eyes yet again. But to her surprise, his gaze was averted and he was leaning his skull back slightly, looking like he was trying to get away from her, but didn't dare to untangle her arms and legs from around him.

Her leftover fear was quickly replaced with sudden rush of embarrasment and regret.

"Oh-" She quickly brought her still trembling legs to the ground and took a couple of steps back away from him, clutching the blanket to her chest. "Sorry..."

Killer didn't reply, just made a sound that resembled clearing his throat. He still wasn't meeting her eyes.

Her eyes landed on his chest. She'd noticed the weird target hovering there before, but had just brushed it off initially as another 'monster thing'. Now, however, her gaze was drawn to it, as it was pulsing slightly with a bright red glow, almost like an inflamed wound. It suddenly felt a lot more... Alive.

"uh... so..." Killer spoke, still avoiding eye contact. "that was horror."

Her eyes stayed on the target a few more seconds, before she was snapped out of it.

"Horror? That's his name?"

"yeah."

Of course. Fitting.

But seriously though, where did the confident, flirty Killer disappear to? Did he accidentally lose a part of himself in the void?

Suddenly, the target on his chest settled back into the slightly fainter, static red glow from before. Killer finally turned his eyelightless, emotionlessly grinning face back to her, and shrugged.

"anyways. he's just not met a human since he used to have 'em for breakfast. he'll come around, doncha worry."

"He... W-what?"

Killer's sudden weird shyness vanished, as if it had never happened in the first place. He tilted his skull and stepped closer to her, speaking like he was reciting a creepypasta.

"yeeah, it's true... he used to hunt humans like ya for a livin', was pretty good at it too..."

Killer walked around her, circling her like a shark, both for the intimidation factor and as an excuse to check out her backside as well. After rounding her, he continued approaching, and her attempts at backing off were only leading them dangerously close to the opposite wall.

"and his nose is like a dog's... probably noticed the smell of ya gettin' wet for me back there as well..."

Her mouth fell open in time with her back hitting the wall. She clutched the blanket closer to her chest as Killer's hand came to rest against the wall above her head, invading into her space yet again.

The normal Killer had returned, it seemed.

'Say something... Anything... Don't just stare at him like a deer in headlights...'

The residual tremble of fear in her legs served as a helpful reminder on why they ended up in this situation to begin with.

"So he, uh... Really wanted to eat me, huh?"

He wouldn't notice that she was purposefully avoiding replying to his previous comment, right?

Killer's grin stretched suspiciously wide.

"probably. i sure do." The comment was, of course, punctuated with him tracing the front of his teeth with his newly summoned tongue.

Okay, that one was just a poorly thought out choice of words on her part. She was nowhere near being able to have a conversation with him without furious blushing apparently.

His tongue was an intense red, in contrast to Dust's pretty lilac... It kinda made her think whether it matched the colour of his-

...Nope!

She forced herself to tear her gaze away from his mouth to look around the hallway they were in. Searching for anything to get distracted with. Dark tiled walls surrounded them, but there wasn't much else to look at.

"Uh... Where are we?" She asked, trying to divert both of their attention to mundane things.

Killer shrugged, unmoving from his position. If anything, he was only getting closer.

"dunno. the castle's huge. just picked a random location to put some distance between him n' us."

"Yeah, thank you for doing that, by the way."

Killer chuckled, low and deep, leaning closer to her ear.

"heh, it's nothin'... can think of a few ways ya can repay me though, now that we're here aaall by ourselves-"

"KILLER."

Both her and Killer jumped slightly at the sudden, booming voice, sounding like it came from the wall itself. Whatever caused it, it saved her from having to make a decision even she didn't know the answer to.

"Office. Both of you. Now."

Killer grumbled in frustration, before muttering something inaudible through his teeth.

She did catch the word 'cockblocker' though.

"She's been here for two hours and you idiots already destroyed her bed!?"

Killer had teleported them into a room that resembled a huge office. Well, maybe the vibe was closer to a throne room, considering that the empty chair and the large darkwood desk in the middle of the room were purposefully placed to be the centerpiece to catch your attention the second you walked (or teleported) in.

”hey s' not my fault the big guy decided to make ketchup outta her!”

Who is Killer talking to? He's looking at the chair, but there's nobody there. Is Nightmare invisible?

Guess it makes sense, being a god and all that.

”Ah, so you wouldn't know anything about the VERY suspicious holes in her mattress either? Don't act like you're the innocent one here. You will replace the bed first thing in the morning. As for tonight, she'll have to sleep in one of your rooms, and I'm thinking-”

”she's welcome in my bed anytime.” Killer interrupted, snapping his gaze onto her. If he had eyebrows, he definitely would be wiggling them right now.

”Absolutely not. And considering that Horror is also showing unstable behavior, the safest option we have is for her to... SLEEP, in Dust's room.”

Why did he have to punctuate the word 'sleep' so aggressively..?

Killer seemed to not take the rejection too heavily.

”aw, shucks. hey, where's the new guy anyways?”

The energy in the room shifted slightly. Only now she realized how Dust's absence was starting to affect her. And she didn't exactly have the position to take the lead on the conversation here, so all thanks to Killer for bringing it up.

”He's been sent out on an emergency mission. The emergency being his EXP-deficiency. He'll be back before midnight.”

Killer glanced at her momentarily, making a sound that resembled a low whistle.

”and he'll return to find her in his bed while lv-spikin'? jeez, that'll be a rough one.”

...What the hell are they talking about?

”That is not something you should be concerned about. Now, leave. I will have a talk with the human.”

Killer shrugged, and turned to look at her once more. He didn't need eyelights to convey the way he looked up and down her body, the slow nod of his skull did the trick. His grin widened slightly, black tears rolling down his cheeks.

”good luck.”

After a wink, he'd popped out.

…

...

She was left alone in the huge office hall. Well, being actually alone would be significantly easier to handle than having a literal god as a conversation partner. She felt her heartrate picking up. Should she say something? Why is he just letting her stand there in silence? And where is he?

”You're nervous.”

Hearing the voice again, now closer to her, made her flinch slightly. It felt so unnerving to not be able to read any body language, or to even know where to look to address her words.

”Y-yeah. Maybe a bit.” She replied truthfully.

To her surprise, she heard a quiet chuckle resonating in the air.

”Well, I suppose I can only take that as a compliment...”

Nightmare's tone was significantly softer now compared to the one he'd used with Killer. Maybe he was trying to make her feel more comfortable?

It probably worked, for a couple of seconds. Before she could think of a reply though, her attention was caught by something on the desk. Something that was moving. What appeared could only be described as a small, black puddle in the middle of the desk. Shiny, moist but not wet, definitely made of something thicker than water.

As soon as her brain had barely processed the sight, something started coming out of the puddle. Slowly, extending towards the roof and curling in the air was a tentacle, made out of the same slimy material as the circular void on the desk.

If she'd been speechless before, this absolutely nailed her vocal chords shut. She'd seen teleportation. She'd seen bone attacks, gravity bending, blasters, magical knives... Even other... Magical appendages...

But tentacles? That was a new one.

As if it had been waiting for her to get used to the sight of it, it moved slowly to reach behind the table, and returned holding something in its grasp.

It was her backpack.

The tentacle approached her carefully, slowly inching closer, until it was near enough for her to reach out her hand and grab the bag offered to her. It uncurled itself, leaving behind a quickly melting trail of black goo, before retracting back into the puddle, supposedly having done what was needed of it. As soon as it was out of sight, the puddle shrunk and all that was left behind was a completely normal darkwood desk.

Oookay. Deep breath.

”Uh... Thank you, sir.”

She hadn't planned on calling him that, hell, she wasn't even sure if the sudden magical tentacle was his doing... But somehow it just felt like the most natural thing to say.

Her suspicion was confirmed by the low, appreciative hum that she felt echoing around her.

”I wanted to also apologize to you in behalf of Horror. My intention was never to put your life at risk. I'm sure Killer filled you in on the reasons why things got out of hand today. Horror is recovering from the incident, and I will keep a closer eye on him until he has gotten accustomed to your presence.”

Right, she nearly forgot that this Horror -guy tried to murder her not too long ago. Despite Nightmare's comforting words, the image of the blood-hungry expression flashed in her mind momentarily, the leftover fear in her making itself known with a small twist in her stomach.

”I... I understand. Thank you, sir.”

”Good. Now, get some rest. The hallway to the right will take you to the living quarters. You will pass the kitchen and the bathroom on your way there. Help yourself to anything you need. Your room is the furthest down the hall, Dust's right next door to it. I advice you to not go knocking on the others' doors, as to not give them any... Ideas. Understood?”

Clear as a day. She wasn't dumb enough to even consider the option.

”Yes, sir.”

”Good. I hope you manage to get some sleep tonight...”

No matter how she tried to brush it off, the sight of the ruined bed in her room caused some shivers to run down her spine. The cracked wood could've been her bones. The stuffing of the mattress could've been her insides spilling out.

She would be dead, permanently, if it hadn't been for Killer's supernatural reaction speed.

...

After unpacking some of her stuff into the closet, she moved to Dust's room, and lied down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

There are three skeletons. One of them wants to kill and eat her. One of them wants to fuck her. One of them has already killed and fucked her multiple times.

Killer and Dust were so similar physically. Pretty much the same height, same face (except the black tears and lack of eyelights on Killer's), even a somewhat similar voice and... Fashion choices. The only truly noticable difference between the two was the personality. She couldn't imagine Dust trying to sweet talk his way into her pants like Killer had been doing all day.

Not that his attempts were successful, just for the record...

Now that she thought about it, even Horror... What she managed to observe of him briefly (before nearly shitting herself), he looked just like an overgrown version of Dust. Just with a different eyelight and a hole in his head.

And, of course the fact that he tried to murder her at first glance.

But... So did Dust initially...

...

It had only been a day, but she already missed him. She hoped he was okay, wherever he was.

*BOOM*

There goes another one.

Why? Probably because it happened to look in Dust's direction.

He'd LV'd up thrice already. The rush from the newly gained EXP was starting to dull down. He could leave, anytime he wanted to, he didn't need more...

*BOOM*

Okay, that one just walked in a dumb way. Welp, it won't be walking no more.

Maybe just one more? A hands-on kinda thing? No magic, just pure bone against skin, fur, or whatever he happened to find. He hadn't done that in at least half an hour.

Dust shortcutted his way around the murder-riddled town for a while, looking for a face that looked especially punchable. If he was lucky, maybe he'd find someone who could actually give him some challenge this time? He certainly wouldn't mind the sensation of a few bruised bones of his own.

He was getting closer to the monster district of this surfaced AU. Lucky bastards had no clue how easy they had it over here...

Dust growled in frustration. Every monster he came across he'd dusted before countless of times, the attack patterns so familiar and predictable to him that he could take on a dozen of them at once with his sockets closed. Maybe he could just settle for a couple more blasts and then head back-

...

A sudden uneasy feeling washed over Dust. He felt like he was being watched, by someone that shouldn't be watching. His soul gave a painful throb, shooting a sensation like lightning through his bones.

Whoever was the cause of these... Feelings... It needed to die.

That someone apparently had the same idea. Dust's grin grew dangerously wide, as he was suddenly staring into the eyes of a newly materialized blaster.

Chapter Text

She didn't come across any of the boys during the rest of the evening, figuring that Nightmare was probably the cause for her moment of peace. After a much needed long shower and some instant meals from the kitchen, she picked a comfortable oversized t-shirt and underwear before climbing under the covers.

Despite her obvious fatigue from the days events, sleep didn't come easy. She was worried about Dust. Nightmare had said he'd be back before midnight, but it was now already 2am. He was still out there, all by himself in an unfamiliar universe, probably suffering from whatever mix of "exp-deficiency" and ”lv-spiking" Nightmare and Killer had been talking about. She wished she could understand better.

She curled against the blankets tighter, trying to do some deep breathing exercises to calm her mind down.

Dust was strong. Physically stronger than any type of monster, and even humans without save power had little to no chance against him either. He would be fine.

That thought, combined with counting her breaths, was starting to slowly do the trick.

...

...

An unknown time after, in her half-awake state, she faintly heard the door to their room open with a small click. A light was switched on in the corner. Her first instinct was to bury her face deeper into the pillow to continue her search for blissful sleep...

Until her brain caught up with her. Was it Dust?

"the fuck are you doing here? you shouldn't... no, you-... you can't be near me, not now..." Dust's panicked voice spoke, approaching the bed despite his words.

As soon as her eyes blinked open, she was met with red and cyan eyelights staring down at her so close, that it made the sense of relief at seeing him come second to the slight jumpscare. Once she'd gathered enough alertness to get a proper look at him, her sleepy state was immediately replaced with a wave of shock and worry.

Dust was, quite literally, covered in death. Stains of blood were soaking into the blue fabric of his hoodie, and monster dust was shedding from his clothes onto the blanket on top of her. Dust himself was breathing heavily, and his magic was flaming around him in pulses as if trying to burst out of his body. His eyelights were blurry around the edges.

Her voice trembled as she tried speaking to him.

"Dust... You-... Are you-"

Dust's sudden growl interrupted her words, and he snatched the blanket off her, throwing it behind him on the floor. Just as quickly, he climbed on top of her, caging her body beneath him with his hands on the mattress beside her head. He forced his knees in between her legs, pushing hers apart with his own, and lowered his skull to press his face against the skin of her neck. He only managed to breath in her scent once, before he pushed his hips against her with a rough grunt.

That was when she felt it. He was hard. Not even the initial semi hard-on he got in the early stages of their sessions, no, he was already fully formed and apparently aching to go.

One of Dust's hands left the mattress to take a hold of the waistband of her underwear. Without any hesitation or control in his movements, he ripped the fabric apart and pulled it off, tossing it on the floor to join the blanket.

His cock was out in no time after that. Rubbing against her entrance, his pre-cum providing just enough lubrication to be able to do so in the first place.

But, he didn't go further. Not without panting into her ear first, a sense of urgency in his words.

"fuck-, i need to fuck you right now, you gotta let me..." His words ended with a strained whine as he struggled to hold himself back.

She was not ready. Not physically at least, a few seconds of reaction time was definitely not enough to get her body primed for this. But, she could hear Dust's phalanges tearing into the mattress beside her head, and his expression looked as if he was in pain. She calculated quickly that there was only seconds left before he'd lose control.

Was this what Killer had been talking about?

"Okay."

As soon as the word left her mouth, Dust thrusted himself halfway in. That was how far it could go without any lube anyways. He groaned desperately, melting against her body, the weight of his body forcing him deeper, closer...

A small, unintentional sound of discomfort left her. Dust's body tensed, and his gaze snapped to her eyes with a sudden expression of fear on his face.

"Ah, I'm okay, just... Needs to be a bit more... Wet..." She tried to reassure him. She knew that no matter how sudden this encounter was, it didn't mean she wouldn't be insanely turned on in a minute or two.

Dust processed her words for a moment, before sitting up on his knees enough to look down in between their bodies. He opened his mouth to let a string of magical drool drip down from his tongue to where their bodies were connected, and afterwards wasted no time slamming his hips against her. He let out a long groan at the sensation of finally being fully buried inside her, and his hands landed beside her head again, forehead dropping against hers.

His body was radiating with warmth, and if she didn't know better she might think he was suffering from a fever. He wasn't moving much, only grinding himself against her, as if he was still forcing himself to hold back.

"i... don't wanna... hurt ya..." Dust panted against her face. The absurdity of the words didn't go unnoticed, this guy had obviously been murdering people in cold blood all night.

She lifted her hands to cup his cheekbones.

"You're not gonna hurt me. I'm okay. You can let go."

Dust's hips bucked again, causing a broken gasp out of both of them.

"no i-... it's... too much... i can't..." He tried again, his body and voice now trembling due to the effort of staying still. ”i couldn't stop if you wanted me to...”

She pushed his skull back enough to be able to look into his eyelights. The colours were mixing together slightly, causing the red and blue to form a hint of purple in places.

It probably should've made her consider the state of his mental well-being right now, but...

"I'm not asking you to stop. I'm here for you. Take whatever you need."

She just about managed to see Dust's eyelights begin to roll back, before his skull dropped against her shoulder. He pulled his hips back and started fucking into her, instantly settling into a brutal pace. It was desperate, needy, uncontrolled.

It wasn't unlike the first time they'd been intimate together, this was filled with the same kind of primal instinct as when he'd dry-humped her into the floor of his living room. Only this time his magical cock was actually filling her, every thrust slamming against the bottom of her pussy, as deep as he could reach. His hipbones were snapping against her thighs, guaranteed to leave bruises, as he soundlessly panted against her neck in time with his thrusts.

She knew she could handle it, but that didn't mean it wasn't a lot to take in. Going from a half-asleep state into furious fucking in a couple of minutes wasn't exactly easy on the body. But, the initial confusion and discomfort in her body were quickly starting to turn into sensations of pleasure. The subsequent building wetness inside her was definitely helping as well.

Realizing that this was one of the rare occasions when she was actually able to touch him during sex, she brought her hands up to the back of his ribs, trying to grab onto them through the fabric of his hoodie. It obviously wasn't working very well. Dust did seem to enjoy the touch though, considering the stutter in his pace after the action, so she took that as a cue to go further.

She reached down and managed to get her hands under his hoodie, and finally against the bare bones in the back of his ribcage. Not wasting any time teasing, she grabbed a hold of whichever ribs she first came in contact with, digging her nails into the bone.

"fuck yes, oh fuck, more..." Dust panted against her, nearly inaudible due to his face being pressed against her skin.

She continued scratching hard against his bones, earning a long, strained groan from Dust in return. But apparently, he still wanted more.

"harder."

...

Dust's body and mind were drowning in a pleasure and pain filled haze. The newly gained LV hurt. Her nails on his injured ribs hurt. The scars on his soul hurt the most.

But, the pleasure he was taking from her body was relieving the ache just slightly.

He'd already given a part of himself to her. Back in the Underground, when he'd thought there was nothing left, he'd allowed himself to feel for the last time. He'd done exactly what he'd been the most afraid of, and he would have to suffer the consequences of his decisions now.

Who knows, maybe if his soul wasn't so fucked, the intention from hers might be able to lessen the mental pain as well.

But right now, the feeling of her pussy gripping around him was all he needed to focus on. How sweetly she was calling out to him, begging to be filled and to be used by him... Taking all of him in his most uncontrolled state so perfectly, knowing she had no way out...

He needed this. He needed her.

He needed to know he still had her.

...

Dust lifted his skull enough to speak the command into her ear.

"touch yourself. i need to feel you cum for me."

She left one hand under his hoodie to grip his spine, while the other reached down to rub her clit with a clear goal. Dust groaned at the feeling of her walls clenching around him, still maintaining his rough thrusts. He gave a few small put sharp bites on the skin of her neck before pulling his skull back to be able to face her, blurred colours of his eyelights holding her gaze.

Dust was panting between slightly parted teeth, and if the heat from his body was enough to think that his temperature was up, the intense lilac blush on his cheekbones was further confirming the suspicion. His magic inside her was tingling more intensely than she'd ever felt before as well, as if a small fireplace had been lit down there.

The combined sensations between her legs and the eye contact filled with a feral need were making her approach her peak fast.

"that's it, you're takin' me so well... gonna cum around me while i keep fuckin' ya?" Dust panted, gaze never leaving her eyes.

She nodded, only thing close to a verbal answer being a whine that left her mouth.

"yeah ya are, fuck-, cum for me... and don't you fuckin' dare look away..."

As soon as she started falling over the edge, Dust clamped his hand over her mouth, muffling her pleasured scream, supposedly not wanting their next door neighbours to get in on the action. Her body arched against him, the hand on his spine gripping him closer, and despite the few involuntary flutters of her eyes, she managed to hold eye contact through her orgasm.

Dust's voice was breathy and strained, but still soft in contrast to the rough thrusts of his body into hers.

"mmmh, good girl, lettin' me use ya like this... ah- and you're gonna take what i give ya, all of it, like the good little fuck toy you are, huh?”

The lights in his eyes flickered, before rolling back again.

”oh fuck-..."

Dust's thrusts sped up, and his skull dropped again, this time biting onto the pillow under her head. He was nearly soundless again, only panting heavily and rutting into her like he couldn't get deep enough. With a couple more thrusts, hard enough to rock her body up on the bed several inches, he groaned against the pillow and she could feel the hot, tingly magic start to fill her up. Distantly, she could hear Dust's teeth tearing through the pillowcase.

There wasn't enough room, there never was. It felt as if her walls were stretching wider due to the sheer amount of magical cum inside her along with his throbbing cock.

But, it felt so good. He always felt so good.

...

She wrapped her arms around Dust's ribcage and hugged him close, trying to stabilize her own breathing. For the first few seconds she didn't notice just how tense his body had gotten, but realized quickly that something was wrong when a quick sob broke out of him.

She tried to push on his shoulders to get a look at him, but it was impossible to move him from his position, she might as well be pushing against a wall. She instead settled for hugging him again and stroking her hands over the back of his ribs through his hoodie.

"It's okay. I'm okay. Are you... Okay?" She spoke softly, still slightly out of breath. The words were anything but planned, but she needed to get some communication going here.

Dust's magic inside her kinda just vanished before he had the chance to pull out. His body released some of the tension, before he rolled over, grabbing her body in the process. They ended up lying side by side with Dust's skull pressed against her chest, his body curled and clutching onto her. She stayed quiet and stroked his spine and the back of his skull through his hood, ignoring how his cum was starting to leak out from her onto the mattress. There were more important things to focus on.

Small, uncontrolled sobs left Dust, but no tears were coming out. His phalanges were tangled in the back of her shirt, trying to hug his body tighter against her. He felt so vulnerable in her arms, being unable to hide whatever feelings or thoughts he was dealing with, only desperately holding onto her for comfort.

"You're okay. Just breathe." She whispered, pressing a small kiss on the top of his hood. Dust inhaled sharply, and released the breath with a stuttering exhale. Following her advice, he continued doing this, despite every attempt sounding more painful than the previous one.

Something had happened during his mission. She didn't know what, but she would have to get him to speak, sooner or later.

Chapter Text

Dust's sobbing and shaky breathing had taken a while to stabilize. Once they did, he'd suddenly gone so limp that if he wouldn't have kept breathing, she would've thought he'd died on the spot from whatever heartache he was suffering from. But, as it turned out, he'd only fallen into a deep sleep. Significantly a better outcome.

She managed to get a couple of hours in as well, despite not being able to move into a more comfortable position due to Dust's hold on her. Bony arms were still wrapped around her body, and his skull was essentially nuzzled between her tits.

But, if that was where he was comfortable, who was she to disturb his well needed rest?

...

...

The next time she blinked her eyes open, Dust was no longer holding her. She hurriedly turned to look around the room, but quickly sighed in relief at the sight of him sitting on the bed next to her. He didn't react to her waking up, only continued staring at the opposite side of the room, leaning against the wall with his knees close to his ribs.

It was still either night, or very early in the morning. The blanket had been placed back on top of her.

"Have you slept?" She asked with a noticable 'just woke up' -tone to her voice.

Dust only muttered a quick 'mm-hm' in reply, his gaze unmoving from the wall. She took a deep breath, in preparation for switching into therapist-mode once again.

"Wanna talk?" She offered.

Expectedly, Dust didn't reply. He was silent for a long time.

...

She took that as a yes.

She sat up on the bed and scooted slightly closer to him, also leaning against the wall, lower half covered with the blanket. She decided to give him some personal space, and opted for not comforting him physically just yet.

She browsed through the possible questions in her mind for a moment. Asking about his first day on the job, or the amount of people he'd murdered during the night didn't exactly feel right.

Keep it as simple as possible? She remembered that working in the past.

"What happened?"

Dust stopped breathing. The question hang in the air for a long moment.

Finally, he spoke, voice monotone.

"sorry for jumpin' ya like that."

She turned to look at him. He hadn't moved, or taken his gaze away from the wall.

"There's nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong." She tried to meet his eyelights unsuccesfully.

Dust shook his head slightly, but didn't reply.

"And, that was not what I meant. I wanna know what happened while you were gone."

Dust's body tensed further at the words, his hands resting on his knees clenching into tight fists.

There we go, something did happen during his mission.

...

"you wouldn't understand." He finally spoke with a voice that sounded distant.

"Try me." She countered, trying her best to still not sound pushy, despite feeling a burning urge to know what had happened to him.

Dust's sockets closed. He took several deep breaths in preparation, before speaking.

"i saw myself.”

His voice gave no emotions away, but he was squeezing his fists so tight that his hands were starting to tremble.

"i saw another version of me. the... original one. what i used to be."

…

Right. That can happen. Him, Killer and Horror weren't the only 'Sanses' out there.

She had nothing to say. All this multiversal doppelganger stuff was so new and unfamiliar to her, she couldn't come up with any reply that would sound like she knew how to comfort him about this. So, she stayed quiet, hoping that listening to him would be enough.

Something in Dust switched. His sockets opened, gaze staying at the wall, his breathing now heavier. He continued speaking, his voice now terrifyingly light and uncaring.

"and the fucker was fine. livin' happily up on the surface, low lv due to not fightin' for a while..."

His skull tilted, and she saw the grin on his face get wider.

"he did put up somewhat of a fight though, which was amusing. heh... probably tried to make an effort for his bro, to protect him from this craaazy murderer-version of himself..."

There was a small pause in his words, before he shrugged.

"but, in the end, he failed. i blasted 'em both into piles of dust. he died knowing that he couldn't protect him. just like i will."

…

The tone of his voice couldn't have felt more disconnected to what he was saying. It sounded like he was talking about the weather. For a long moment, there was absolutely nothing that she was able to respond with, she doubted any words would come out even if she tried.

Only when the first tear rolled down her cheek, she managed to put some thoughts together.

”You... Only did what you had to.” She spoke with a weak, trembling voice. ”It's n-not your fault you couldn't protect him-”

”course it's my fuckin' fault!” Dust suddenly shouted, turning his entire body to face her. ”who else aimed a fuckin' blaster at him!? who else couldn't do anythin' but watch as the kid kept murderin' him over and over again? sounds an awful lot like it was my fault and nobody else's, huh?”

Dust's eyelights snapped towards the empty room for a split second, before dropping down to gaze at the floor. The anger in his voice simmered down into its less violent variant, frustration.

”shut up. fuckin' shut up, both of you. i don't need any fuckin' symphathy, it ain't fixin' shit.”

He turned and slumped back against the wall again, tugging his skull further into his hood.

”told ya you wouldn't fuckin' understand. ya just wanna give me that same sweet talk i've heard a million times before, that ain't gonna fuckin' fix me-”

”Okay, new approach then.” She stated, cutting his words off. ”If we're gonna talk, we're talking with the real terms, real names, alright?”

Were those words really coming out out her? A powerful skeleton monster, a murderer, had just yelled at her and told her to shut up. Her heart was still pounding from the sudden outburst, she should be reacting with fear and submission if she cared for her life at all.

But, the murderer in question was Dust. Something inside her was supplying her with an infinite stream of confidence, and it wouldn't let her stay quiet.

She wiped the leftover tears from her eyes, before continuing, voice strict.

”You killed your brother. Papyrus. He's not coming back. These things are true. But do I think that you would've done it if there had been any other option available?”

She left the question to hang in the air to take a moment to breathe, knowing better than to wait for any answers from Dust.

”No. I know you cared about him. And I'm not expecting you to forget, or suddenly be okay with everything that happened, but the truth is that you were forced to make that decision, in an attempt to protect those around you. I know it, and I know that Papyrus is saying the same thing.”

She ignored the alarm bells in her head and grabbed Dust's hand, bringing it up to the scarf around his neck and forcing his fist to take a hold of the fabric.

Her voice softened, just slightly.

”He's here. Right now. You still have him. And I'm not going anywhere either, if that's any consolation.”

Dust was tense, but he didn't try to pull his hand away from her grip. She was probably pushing all sorts of boundaries here, but as he said it himself, the sweet talking wasn't doing much good either.

Besides, she couldn't ignore the subtle switch in the athmosphere around them. Dust's emotionless expression had started cracking with small, barely noticable flinches of his nonexistant facial muscles. As if the feelings buried under multiple layers of pain were starting to rise up to the surface.

After a long, quiet moment, she felt Dust's phalanges start to move slightly under her hand, as if feeling the soft material of the scarf. Soon after, his sockets fluttered shut, and his grin slowly relaxed into something that could vaguely resemble a smile.

He almost looked like he was falling asleep, dreaming of something nice.

…

”...ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?”

”am now. i think she's done.” Dust muttered quietly, but still with enough volume to be audible.

”FINALLY. SO, AS I WAS SAYING, YELLING TO YOUR MATE GOES AGAINST PROPER DATING POLICIES. DON'T YOU AGREE?”

”yeah. i do. sorry 'bout that.”

”I AM NOT THE ONE YOU SHOULD BE APOLOGIZING TO, YOU NUMBSKULL! TO BE HONEST I'M SURPRISED SHE IS STILL WILLING TO EVEN HANG OUT WITH YOU, YOU'VE TREATED HER LIKE TRASH THIS ENTIRE TIME!”

”i know.”

”SO, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! I WILL NOT WATCH MY BROTHER AND MY BROTHER'S DATEMATE – WHO IS A LOVER OF MY CULINARY TALENTS AND THEREFORE ALSO A FRIEND OF MINE – BE MISERABLE ANY LONGER!"

...

Stars, how he missed him. He missed his unbridled joy and enthusiasm, his sincereness, his innocence and the ability to see good in everyone. But, in moments like these, he could feel the remnants of all those memories reach the most painful part of his soul, proving that he hadn't forgotten.

Maybe she was right. Maybe he did still have him. She could feel him too after all, it had to be real.

...

”LUCKILY, I'VE WORKED OUT THE PERFECT SOLUTION TO THIS PROBLEM! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, ORDER YOU TWO TO CONFESS YOUR FEELINGS TO EACH OTHER!”

...

Feelings...

Maybe there was a chance for him to learn to feel again. To slowly heal his scarred soul, to learn to keep the ones he cared about near him and not push them further in fear of losing it all again. Maybe there was something, someone, who could fix him and take the pain away.

...

She was still holding Dust's hand. He'd clearly been out of touch with reality for a while, his facial expressions more reactive than she'd ever seen, despite his sockets still being closed.

And, of course there was the fact that he'd been having a conversation with his dead brother for the past few minutes.

He'd been still for so long, that the sudden, needy kiss that was pressed against her lips was initially left unanswered due to the pure shock that washed through her. Dust pushed her against the mattress, licking against her lips. As soon as her brain had rebooted itself and was able to react again, she opened her mouth to let his his magical tongue wrap and glide around hers. For a few seconds, the taste of one another had replaced any need for verbal communication.

But, just as suddenly, Dust pulled back. He stared down at her with a surprisingly soft expression on his face.

”i'm sorry for snapping at you.”

It took her a while to react, this emotional rollercoaster of a night combined with sleep deprivation was really starting to get to her now.

”It's... Okay. I know you didn't mean to.”

Dust smiled. Actually smiled. At her.

He brought his hand to gently stroke his phalanges against her cheek. It almost reminded her of how Killer had touched her hair, only this was more... Intimate? Innocent?

...Meaningful?

Whatever it was, there was something about his presence right now that was bringing some forgotten butterflies back into her stomach.

”tired?” Dust asked, hand stopping to rest against her cheek.

Painfully so. Sleeping didn't fix mental health problems but damn if she wasn't dying to get a few more hours in while it was still possible.

She nodded, not really having the energy to form words anymore.

Dust sat up enough to adjust the blanket back on top of her. He lied down next to her, turning her body sideways with her back to him, and with a firm pull, her body was being spooned against his.

Dust nuzzled his skull against her hair, and breathed deep for a few times. And, despite how numb her brain and body were feeling from exhaustion, Dust's whisper against her hair brought a small, tired smile on her face.

”sleep well, sugar.”

Chapter Text

Can it be called sleeping in if you didn't have a planned time to wake up at anyways?

Maybe not. But sometimes, sleeping in is just a feeling. It's when you know you've woken up but haven't opened your eyes yet, and you couldn't care less about what time it is. It's when you cuddle against a warm body, neither of you quite knowing whether the other is awake or not. No conversation to keep up, no unfinished tasks, only the warmth and softness of the bed and the comfort of the other's presence beside you.

Somehow, Dust had ended up being the little spoon. In contrary to their usual difference in height, the hoodless back of Dust's skull was now level with her chest. Her arm was wrapped around him, and her fingers were lazily tracing patterns against his ribs through the fabric of his hoodie.

She'd been awake for a while. She hadn't risked checking whether Dust was still asleep or not, in fear of accidentally waking him up. He needed his rest, and she wouldn't mind if this moment dragged on for another ten minutes or so.

Hell, make it twenty.

...

But, of course, nothing good lasts forever.

There was a quick, obnoxious triple knock on the door of their room. Dust's body tensed, and only the start of a frustrated groan managed to form, before the door already creaked open.

”g'mornin', ya little lovebirds...”

Of course, the sickly sweet voice belonged to Killer, whose skull was poking in through the crack in the door. The speed in which Dust shot up to sit on the bed confirmed her that he'd been awake during this entire time after all.

The calm moment was gone.

”who the fuck told ya to open the door!?” Dust spat out, quickly pulling the hood that had fallen off back over his skull. ”ya better fuck off before i fuckin' blast ya to-”

Dust stopped speaking, supposedly in reaction to Killer completely ignoring his threats and stepping further into the room, carrying a plate in his hand. Once his initial shock wore off, Dust quickly glanced at her on the bed next to him, and adjusted the blanket to cover the skin of her half-exposed leg.

Killer only chuckled, as Dust turned back to him.

”ya fuckin' deaf, stupid, or both!? i said fuck off!” Dust slammed the door wide open with his magic and punctuated the words by pointing towards the exit.

”duuude, relax.” Killer spoke, holding his free hand up as if trying to prove his innocence. ”got somethin' to bring her.”

Killer lifted the plate in his hand to emphasize his point. Some food was stacked on it, looking (and smelling) like pancakes. Dust's eyelights flicked to it momentarily, before returning to death-glare at Killer's empty sockets again.

”and the fuck would that 'something' be?” Dust's voice was still like venom, albeit just slightly less murderous.

”oh, this?” Killer swiped a phalanx over the treat, gathering something that looked like syrup. ”it's uh... an apology.” He licked the sugary substance from his hand while trying to sneak a glance at her behind Dust.

All three could feel how Dust's magic sparked violently at the words.

”an apology? for fuckin'-... what the fuck did you do!?” Dust's voice grew into a shout, and he moved to stand up from the bed, poised as if he was ready to attack Killer right then and there.

”Wait!” A shout came from the bed behind him.

Dust's eyelights flickered out and back in a few times, his fists clenching beside him, but he didn't move.

”Let-... Let him speak.” She continued, voice more timid than what she was going for.

The aura of smugness was practically radiating from Killer, but he managed to keep his grin somewhat neutral. He wiped his slightly moist hand on his shorts and spoke nonchalantly, as if he couldn't care less that he was about to have the fight of his life if a single wrong word left his mouth.

”yeah, anyways. i didn't do shit. it's from horror, he felt bad for scarin' her yesterday.”

Her eyes widened. Horror? The delicious smell was his work? If so, the axe murderer apparently doubled as a world class chef as well. Who would've thought? Unless it was made of the blood of his previous victims or something...

Dust's posture relaxed slightly, although it looked more like an exhausted release of tension. He rolled his eyelights at Killer, and flopped back down to lie on the bed, rubbing his face as if he had a headache incoming.

”fine. great. leave it at the table and fuck off.” Dust sighed, not even bothering to look at Killer anymore behind his closed sockets.

Killer did as instructed. Well... He did place the plate on the table, at least. And maybe he had been on his way to 'fuck off' as well, before something caught his nonexistant eye on the floor. His grin widened.

Killer reached down to pick up that 'something', stuffing it quickly into his pocket. Dust still had his hands covering his sockets, so he, fortunately for all three, missed the next few seconds of interaction between Killer and her.

It wasn't much. Just Killer pulling the item out from his pocket enough for a little bit of fabric to poke out, looking awfully similar to her underwear that got ripped in half last night. As soon as she met his empty sockets with a horrified look of realization, he winked and shoved them back into his pocket (as if he was completely entitled to take them as a payment for bringing her food that he didn't even make).

Dust also missed the flaming blush that spread across her cheeks.

Killer took a few steps towards the door, seemingly trying to be on his way out, before his loud mouth stopped the plan short yet again. His voice had a (completely unnecessary) flirty tone to it.

”oh, gotcha a new bed by the way. ya know, for the one that we destroyed...”

Dust's sockets snapped open.

'Oh for fuck's sake Killer...'

She hid her face in her hands, half trying to hide her blush, but also honestly preferring to not see the look on Dust's face right now.

”howd'ya destroy her bed, huh?” Dust's voice came from between gritted teeth, sounding like he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Killer grinned, beaming at his success in getting the exact reaction he was hoping for.

”heh... not whatcha thinkin', unfortunately. i just threw a few knives at her and horror axe'd the frame in half.”

”you did fuckin' what-”

Killer made the first smart decision of the day and teleported out before Dust managed to go through with whatever he'd been about to do.

Dust sat on the bed for a long time, back turned to her, skull buried in his hands. The silence in the room was deafening, except for the occasional sigh of frustration from him.

For once she was glad that Dust wasn't meeting her eyes, since it allowed her leftover blush from Killer's visit to fade. She definitely needed to get used to handling his constant flirting better than she'd been able to do thus far if she wanted to have any chance in keeping things somewhat professional around here.

Finally, Dust looked up from his hands, keeping his gaze on the far wall. His voice was emotionlessly monotone.

”did they hurt you?”

She blinked.

Technically, no. Sure, Horror tried to. But Dust didn't need to know about that. Not yet.

”No.” She answered, voice quiet.

Dust sighed and shook his skull. He didn't speak, but she had a feeling he didn't exactly trust her answer.

Right, the mind reading shit.

”Okay, sorry. I mean, it is the truth but, maybe not all of it. Uh... You know Horror, right?”

Dust was tense and quiet for a moment before replying.

”nightmare mentioned him, but we didn't meet yet. dunno anythin' about the guy besides the name. what did he do?”

She took a deep breath. She really didn't want to make his already sour mood worse, but he deserved to know. And maybe it was better that it was her who told him rather than... Someone else.

”Promise you won't freak out?”

Dust shut his sockets tight. He was quiet for a long moment, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else than here to answer her question.

Finally, he sighed.

”mm-hm.”

Needless to say, it didn't sound very enthusiastic. But she knew that Dust didn't take promises lightly. It gave her the confidence needed to continue with the topic.

”He... Did kinda try to... Kill me.”

Dust's fists clenched, but other than that, he didn't react. His sockets were still sealed shut.

She continued.

”Killer was the one that saved me, actually. He told me that Horror used to... He, uh...” She swallowed, desperately wanting to sugarcoat the truth as to not launch Dust into an episode.

Maybe she should've let Killer explain this to him after all...

”He used to... Eat humans.”

Yup. Sounds even worse coming out of her mouth.

After a few tense seconds, all Dust reacted with was a joyless huff of laughter.

...

Well, at least he kept his promise. Which meant that he'd get to use his ability to hide his true feelings under this emotionless mask once again. She had a hard time convincing herself that this was the better option than letting him go on a killing spree in the castle.

At least, now that the cat was out of the bag, she could finally try to convince him that everything was okay.

”But, Killer said he doesn't do that anymore. And he obviously feels bad about trying to attack me. And, he didn't even speak to me or anything, maybe he was just acting on some kind of instinct, kinda like when we first met, when you... Uh... Used... To-...” Her words trailed off, followed by a deadly silence.

Dust didn't even need to stop her verbally anymore, she'd learned to recognize the sudden shift in his magic whenever she'd pushed the boundaries too far. It felt like the warm static electricity had suddenly been turned into sharp, icy cold air.

Luckily, shutting up and giving him space was usually enough to calm things down. She added the topic of their first meeting to the mental list of 'things to not talk to Dust about'.

After a few deep breaths, he was able to speak again. His voice sounded unnervingly calm.

”can you still reset?”

The question caught her off guard. It wasn't something she expected to come up anytime soon. But then again, the possibility of her getting killed had pretty much tripled since coming here, so maybe it was a valid thing to be concerned about.

”No.” She answered honestly, despite knowing the reaction it would cause.

Dust took one more deep breath, before nodding. After muttering a quiet 'okay' to himself, he turned his gaze to the plate on the table. He used his magic to levitate it in his hand, and grabbed the fork to cut out a piece of the pancake.

”Hey, wasn't that supposed to be for me?” She asked with a forced tone of humour in her voice, in a weak attempt to lighten up the mood. Also, she was hungry and honestly wanted the deliciously-smelling pancakes in her mouth asap.

”gotta know it's not poisoned or somethin'.” Dust muttered before taking a small piece in his mouth.

He only managed to chew for a couple of times, before he coughed. It would've almost seemed overly dramatic and childish (the taste couldn't be that far from the smell, right?) if it wasn't for the small possibility of the food actually being deadly.

After some struggling, he managed to finish eating the piece, and more or less tossed the plate over to her.

”fuckin' hell. yea it ain't poisoned.” Dust spoke, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

”Wait, what? What's wrong with it then?” She turned the plate in her hand, trying to search for anything that seemed off.

”nothin'. it's just the intent. he's fuckin' sorry alright...” With another small sound of disgust, Dust got off the bed and teleported out before she had the chance to ask him what he meant.

She could distantly hear the tap being turned on in the kitchen. Choosing to ignore his behavior for now, she took a piece of the treat to herself as well.

It was heavenly.

...

Maybe Dust just didn't like pancakes?

Chapter Text

Dust had made a stupid promise. Again.

The last time he made a promise like this, everyone he ever knew ended up dead. So why had he made the same promise again, first to Nightmare and now to her as well?

The freak with a thing for dining on humans was still living in the same damn castle with them. Great. Just wonderful. The hell did he even get that idea from? It's not like the EXP absorbs any better that way, probably just does it for the kick of munching on organs then, huh? A weird fucking power trip at best, and an even weirder way to get off at worst. Dust didn't wanna know.

And apparently the guy assumed that he could continue swinging his axe around if he just makes up for it by force-feeding his victims with his sappy intentions afterwards. Sure, the pancakes weren't meant for Dust to consume, but he couldn't really blame himself for wanting to take the metaphorical, but still very much potential bullet for her. What he wasn't prepared for though, was the taste. A sweetness so strong that it overruled even the syrup that the shit was covered with.

”ARE YOU UPSET BECAUSE IT WAS A BETTER APOLOGY THAT WHAT YOU MANAGED TO COME UP WITH?”

And if that wasn't bad enough in itself, the knife-throwing idiot with zero respect for privacy apparently couldn't get enough of harassing her either. Could he at least try to be subtle about his intentions? To even give her a chance to say no?

”YES, HIS 'FLIRTING' STRATEGIES ARE A BIT... FORWARD. BUT AT LEAST HE'S MAKING AN EFFORT! AND IT'S WORKING! YOU COULD LEARN A THING OR TWO FROM HIM ACTUALLY, IF YOU WEREN'T BUSY BEING A STUBBORN, LAZY, INCONSIDERATE-...”

...

And Dust was expected to just deal with all this? To not ”freak out”?

Fuck, he hated promises. And he hated that he couldn't refuse making one for her. He should've known that accepting Nightmare's deal would come with some kind of a catch to it.

Speaking of the demi-god, Dust had received an invitation to meet him first thing in the morning. But, as it turned out, it wasn't exactly the first thing that happened. Whatever punishments Nightmare had in store for Dust for showing up late wasn't really something he was concerned about though. The few moments of calm this morning – the soft, soothing feeling of skin against his bones, a relief from the constant ache – were unlike anything he had experienced in a long time, it was well worth any pain or suffering that would follow.

At least, until the tar-eyed asshole decided to come ruin it all.

So, at least a good two hours late from the scheduled time, Dust finally appeared in Nightmare's office.

”mornin' boss.”

A faint gust of wind passed through the room, and settled against the walls, as if making the room itself spark to life. The air swirled with a few thin currents of black smoke, before the energy settled where the desk and chair were located. A voice spoke, as if coming straight from the furniture.

”Good afternoon, don't you think?” Nightmare's voice gave away no emotions, only remaining professional and polite.

Dust sighed.

”yeah, guess so. somethin' came up. sorry.” He spoke, not bothering to hide the disinterest in his voice. Nightmare probably knew the cause anyways, so there was no use in going for any pathetic excuses.

A thoughtful hum echoed in the room as a response.

”I see. And how do you expect your disregard for punctuality to be handled with?” The calm voice carried the slightest hint of threat in it.

”dunno. whatever is needed.” Dust shrugged, still just as unbothered by the conversation.

His answer was surprisingly met with silence. Dust's eyelights were glued on the floor ahead of him, his hands stuck in his pockets as he waited patiently for whatever reaction was to come.

But eventually, the room only breathed out a long sigh.

”I will let this one slide. But I do require you to be honest in your next answers.”

Dust tensed.

Of course. Out of all things, why did he have to be interrogated? Why was he required to talk? Couldn't Nightmare just throw him to rot alone in an empty AU for a few days instead? That surely was a more fitting punishment for his fuck-ups.

”How did your mission go?”

”fine.” Dust answered quickly. His fists clenched inside his pockets.

”Got your stats settled?”

He replied with an affirmative hum.

”Hm. While I do enjoy all the negativity radiating from you, it is not usual for my employees to suffer from KR-damage this long into the next day. Anything to report about that?”

A stab of pain from the back of Dust's ribs only confirmed that Nightmare was right. Of course he can fucking see it. Had Dust lost all privacy since coming here?

He breathed deep once, and kept his voice casual, still fully prepared to face the consequences of his actions.

”i accidentally got spotted by the s-... 'me' of that universe. got too close to the monster side of town. i also might've dragged the fight out a bit but i can assure you that nobody out there lived to tell the tale.”

”Good.”

Dust raised his gaze from the floor in surprise.

”I knew you'd be a great fit for the team. Taking on a version of yourself, especially a Judge-variant is one of the more advanced tasks out there. Not only physically but also... In other ways, I've been told.”

Dust listened carefully, confused. He'd showed up late for the meeting. Last night he'd ended up in a forbidden area, got spotted, and even refused to end things as quickly as he should've. He'd ignored several rules that Nightmare had set for him, and yet here he was, receiving very unexpected praise for his actions.

But, just as he dared to hope that the conversation would get easier from here:

”Did you happen to come across the Papyrus-variant as well?”

The words, spoken in the same unchanging professional manner punched the metaphorical wind out of Dust's body. The remaining KR made itself known with a painful thud that reached his soul.

But, he made no physical reaction, apart from refusing to answer.

”I see. You do not need to reply. But, if you followed the order I gave you – if you get spotted, you kill the witnesses – whatever you did was done according to the protocol.”

...According to the protocol?

Dust stared at the floor again. The tone in Nightmare's voice sounded like they were having a job interview. If Dust was fairly skilled at hiding his emotions, it seemed like Nightmare didn't have them to begin with.

Was this what he'd have to go through, over and over again?

Was this what the others were going through?

”To answer what you are probably wondering, targeting a Papyrus-variant has been left solely for Killer to handle for now. The choice is always yours, and I do not expect an answer now, but it would be of great use for me to have another fighter capable of carrying this task if needed.”

...

Dust stayed silent.

Nightmare wasn't pressuring him. Dust wouldn't ever have to do it again, if he chose not to. The thought was somehow equally comforting, as something he couldn't care less about. He'd already done it twice, after all, and he knew that it would only get easier with each one. The more LV, the less he felt.

Luckily, he didn't need to reply. No answer would've come to his mind anyways. The only things he had were questions.

How the hell does Killer do it?

Why isn't Horror able to?

...What happened to them?

…

”I have one more question for you, which I do require your honest answer to, before we move on to other topics.”

Dust was snapped out of his thoughts. Fuck, he really wanted to get this conversation over with. At least he'd managed to stay away from making any more dumb promises.

He forced himself to turn his focus on the desk once more.

”Have you healed?”

Oh. That.

”didn't have time to.” Dust's monotone voice spoke. Lying wasn't his forte, but he'd give himself an A for effort on that one. Kinda made his soul hurt though, but then again, when wouldn't it?

Another long sigh echoed around him in reply.

”You know where the emergency monster candies are. I expect you to make use of them whenever needed. Horror will return from his recovery in the evening, and I have full trust in him to not let you go hungry.”

Dust rolled his eyelights. His excitement of getting to try out some more ”Food with feelings (™), brought to you by a serial murderer with a fetish for human flesh”, was palpable.

”Dinner at eight. Do NOT be late.”

Chapter Text

Her second day at the castle following the chaos that was yesterday, was surprisingly uneventful. Boring, almost. Dust had been stuck in meetings with Nightmare all day, and even Killer was absent, probably busy doing whatever his name suggested. No sign of the axe murderer either.

At least, she now had a new bed, one that was intact. The one that Killer had gotten for her.

The recently smashed, dull single bed from before had been turned into a huge four poster double (triple?) bed, which literally took all the available space in her room, leaving only a small path to walk around it. There was no way it could've fit in through the door, which only left one option on how it had appeared here overnight.

Magic.

The bright red silk sheets and the matching drapes were just the cherry on top.

Subtle, Killer. Very subtle.

But, she had to admit, it was a pretty comfortable one. Perfect for catching up on the lack of sleep last night on a boring day like this.

Her second nap of the day was interrupted with a distant sound of clattering from the kitchen. It was soon followed by a delicious smell that reached her room even with the door being closed. That alone would've been enough to pique her interest, even without the craving for some company as well. She got up and out of her room, and started approaching the kitchen curiously, before a thought struck her.

She'd never seen Dust in the kitchen, apart from microwaving a singular spaghetti meal for her. Killer didn't exactly seem like one for housework either...

Which left the obvious option. The pancake chef.

Well, she did want something to cure her boredom, right?

...

She ignored the increased pounding of her heart, and peeked around the corner into the kitchen. And, as expected, there he was, huge form hunched over the stove, stirring something that was boiling in a pot. From the angle she could just about see the side of his skull, and a hint of a red eye glowing in its socket. The giant skeleton looked to be deep in thought, too busy keeping the rhythm of his hand stable to notice her presence.

She couldn't help but feel like she was peeking into the nest of a starving bear. At least she found some comfort in the fact that the kitchen smelled of sweet potatoes and spices instead of boiling blood or other human remains.

Suddenly, the hand stirring the pot stilled. His skull lifted to stare at the wall ahead of him. She was just about to back off, before a red eye found her face like a spotlight, skull turning to follow its path slowly. Their gazes met with a tension so thick that it could've been cut with a knife. Or, an axe.

Well, it seemed like backing off was no longer an option.

This time though, she chose to not completely ignore her survival instincts. She wasn't exactly obeying the voice in her head that told her to run as fast as possible, but she did keep a certain wariness present. Not making a move to escape just yet, but definitely ready to do so if needed. She hadn't exactly been given a reason not to, after all.

Not that she thought she'd win in a race against him, but maybe it would at least buy a few seconds of time for him to come to his senses, or at the very least, for Nightmare to intervene.

...Right?

She stepped forwards. Slowly, carefully, not intending to approach any more than the couple of steps it took for her to actually be in the same room with him. The only reason she had the guts (ha, pun intended) to do so in the first place, was the absence of a weapon this time around. The skeleton remained completely still, the bubbling of the food the only thing filling the silence.

It was now or never.

”H-hi. I'm Y/n. I was told that your name is Horror, right?”

What followed, was the most unsettling thing she'd encountered with the skeletons thus far. No attacking, no threats, no murderous grins...

Just silence. Heavy and suffocating.

She held the eye contact, now feeling as if she was staring at one of those statues that would launch into an attack the second she even blinked. How many horror movie cliches could this guy bring out of her?

The urge to get the fuck out of the situation was increasing by the second. He obviously didn't wanna talk, and she must be out of her mind to try to wait for an answer any longer.

”Uh, s-sorry, I'll just...” She started retracting the steps she'd taken into the room, until...

He moved.

Not unlike the day before, the hulking form of the beast was suddenly approaching her, faster than she could react. A red eye was locked onto her face, and the missing axe was now replaced with a dripping wooden spoon. She turned around in an attempt to sprint down the hall, but was immediately stopped by a huge claw grabbing her wrist. A broken scream escaped her as she tried to yank her arm free, quickly realizing however that trying to escape the grasp would only lead to her dislocating some joints.

Flight? Cross that one out. She'd already been caught.

Fight? She'd tried with a skeleton much smaller than the one she was faced with now. It was dumb to even waste time considering the option.

Thus, freeze.

It was all she could do anyways, as the huge skeleton suddenly dropped to his knees in front of her, her hand now engulfed in both of his. His eye was looking up at her with an unreadable expression, as he tugged on her arm to urge her closer. She wasn't exactly able to resist, so despite her legs almost giving out from shock, she stepped closer.

The pot was still bubbling in the background. The wooden spoon lied abandoned on the floor, next to the skeleton that undeniably looked a lot less murderous from this angle. She was close enough now that he would be able to reach her chest with his skull.

And that he did.

His cheekbone fell against her, followed by a soft, deep sigh from him, and the phalanges wrapped around her hand stroked softly over the skin of her palm, in a stark contrast to the unbreaking hold that remained. His breathing was deep, his sockets closed, and a very faint low vibration could be felt resonating against her body.

...

She breathed in for the first time since what she thought were her last living moments.

She was still alive. Her body wasn't split into two, gutted, and thrown into the pot limb by limb. Instead, Horror was cuddling against her chest. The axe murderer skeleton. The one who wanted her on his plate no more than a day ago.

What was it that Killer said? That ”he'll come around”? Was this what he meant?

...Is Horror trying to apologize?

”I-it's... It's okay.” She spoke, the tremble in her voice giving away how close she was to tears. Whether it was from the yet another near death experience or the unexpected display of gentleness before her, she didn't know.

Horror pressed his face even tighter against her chest, and squeezed his grip on her hand at the words. It felt like a reply.

Her mouth was still slightly open from the shock, her breathing stuttering, and she was unable to look away from what she could see of the top of his skull. His large, faded, injured skull. She nodded weakly to herself, a new perspective of the mysterious third skeleton slowly forming in her brain.

”Can you speak?” She asked hesitantly.

Horror's movements on her hand stilled, but he didn't reply. The silence lasted long enough for her to reconsider the question, whether it was rude to expect him to answer when he obviously had some kind of a communication issue going on...

Until, a voice deeper than she'd ever heard before sounded against her. Quiet, but precise.

He spoke her name.

It made her stop breathing for a moment yet again. Despite his intimidating presence, his voice was soft, gentle. And somehow, that one word seemed to carry more emotion than anything Dust or Killer had ever said to her combined. The thought felt almost scarier than the threat of being turned into human stew.

The sound of the boiling pot suddenly got louder in her ears, forcing her thought process to be cut short. She blinked and shook her head to get rid of the confusion.

”Hey, uh... Is the food still okay? I'm sorry that I interrupted-...” Her words trailed off, as Horror's skull turned to look up at her again, his eyelight wobbling as it scanned her face.

His expression was still just as unreadable. But, in contrast to the other skeletons, it felt like the cause of it was the sheer amount of emotions that crossed his face. As if there were too many to differenciate between. The sight was captivating, enough to make her forget how weird it was for them to just keep staring at each other like this.

Slowly, almost a bit clumsily, Horror stood up, forcing her head to tilt waay up to keep the eye contact. Her breathing quickened involuntarily, as he was staring down at her so close, so tall, her head barely coming up to his ribcage as his hunched posture loomed over her. The sight brought back a small reminder that she still had a good reason to be wary of him, despite whatever moment they'd just shared.

With one more squeeze of his hand, he let hers go. He picked up the spoon from the floor, shoving it briefly into his mouth to 'pre-wash' before throwing it in the sink. Another identical one was pulled out from a drawer, like he knew the exact location of it from muscle memory.

He turned back to the stove and continued stirring the food in the pot, just as calmly and methodically as before.

…

Well, that went better than expected. Different, sure, but better.

Should she leave? Or should she give in to the temptation to satisfy her curiosity further?

”What are you making?”

Horror's movements stopped again. She eyed his face warily, looking for any signs of him wanting to be left alone.

But, his expression only seemed to soften further.

After a moment of consideration, Horror pulled yet another spoon from the drawer, a smaller one. One that would actually be used for eating rather than stirring. He scooped some of the food, before turning his skull to her. With a hint of hesitation in his movements, he offered the spoon to her direction.

She met his eyelight briefly, before stepping closer. Sure, she could just take the spoon from him, but his hand was already level with her mouth anyways...

She reached towards the spoon, and blew on it slightly to cool it down. She closed her lips around it and pulled back, deciding to only focus on the flavours in her mouth and choosing to ignore the noticable tremble of Horror's hand, and the way his eyelight slowly expanded, gaze locked onto her mouth.

...It tasted like comfort. Nostalgia.

Like a warm hug on a cold day in Snowdin.

Also like sweet potatoes and a perfect amount of spices, but mostly that. More than it was probably supposed to.

Horror's shaky hand had frozen mid air, gaze still lingering on her lips. His eye had swollen so wide that it almost filled his whole socket.

All that left her mouth was a breathless ”wow” in reaction. It was really good too, so the near speechless reaction was accurate enough.

Besides, the need for words seemed to have disappeared quite a while ago.

…

She was staring up at him with acceptance and forgiveness in her eyes, despite everything that he was, everything that he'd done. As if she could see what was hidden behind his frightening appearance, as if she could hear the words that he was unable to speak.

She was so small, so fragile. Her lips were so red with her blood, so alive, looking just as soft as the skin of her hand... And right now, they would taste like the food that he had fed her...

His mouth was starting to water at the thought.

He knew what a human tasted like. Flesh, blood, bones, all of it. A part of him, the instinct at the back of his skull that kept him alive for years, still wanted to reach for his weapon and finish what he'd started the day before. To tear through that soft skin, to cover the floor with the sweet blood that was rushing through her...

But, he couldn't. Not anymore.

Now, his soul knew better.

…

He would have to wait. She was still afraid of him. He would have to be patient. He wouldn't want to scare her by going too fast too soon.

He would never ever want to scare her again.

...

He also needed to take the little spoon out of his mouth.

He would... In a moment... Just a little more...

...

He already remembered her name. He remembered that he wasn't Underground, and that there was food here. But he would have to remember something else too.

Food. Kill. Eat.

Don't kill. Protect.

Bite. Don't bite. Only touch.

Touch. Don't touch. Yet. Wait.

Wait. Like a good hunter would, for the perfect moment to strike.

...He hoped that he wouldn't forget.

…

...

Footsteps approached from the hall, accompanied with the sound of knives clattering against each other.

Yet, even when Killer started talking to them from the doorway, her attention remained undivided, focused only on the red eye staring down at her.

…

Horror's skull tilted, and he smiled.

'…mine.'

Chapter Text

”what's for dinner h? boss had me up to my sockets with hits today, it better be somethin'-... oh heyyy there, did i interrupt somethin'?”

The hell did Killer just walk into? If he thought the angsty teenager looking new guy was down bad for her, the way his butcher buddy was now looking at what could've been his dinner last night was starting to make Killer feel sick.

Even the smell of the food was being overruled by the lovey dovey intent filling the room. Ugh. It was almost enough to make his appetite vanish, despite him almost starving due to skipping lunch today in favour of stabbing a few more people down the street (something that Horror didn't need to know about).

Killer's gaze alternated between the lovestruck idiots for a moment, starting to find the situation oddly uncomfortable. Did he die on his mission and was now haunting the castle as a ghost that nobody else was able to see or hear?

Eh, better test that theory.

”she on the menu today or what?”

Horror let out a sigh. Apparently Killer hadn't been dusted yet.

”...ya wish.”

Horror's words seemed to startle the human out of her trance as well. Her head whipped towards the door, and she took a step back from Horror, as if she only now realized just how fucking close to him she'd gotten. If she'd been at the giants skull level, all they would've needed was to close the gap and...

…

Holy shit, Horror looked like he wanted to. Well, this was gonna be fun.

”duh, course i do. but a bit differently than what ya were up to last night, remember?”

Horror sighed again.

”...not much.” Came his reply.

Killer stacked his knives into his inventory, and took a seat at the table. He really should have a bag of popcorn to get the most out of watching these two try to figure their shit out. She was still unable to form any words, her eyes bouncing between both skeletons, as if trying to solve some kind of a social puzzle.

And Horror... Was suddenly looking miserable. His skull had dropped, form hunching in a way that was sure to kill his spine later.

Killer sighed, rolling his nonexistant eyelights.

”right, a reminder then... we came back from au 350 after dustin' a good amount of guard dogs and whatnot, remember?”

Horror's gaze was still locked onto the ground, but he nodded.

”aaand ya went off to do whatever it is ya do to burn off the new exp, before ya walked in on us n' decided to take a swing at her.”

Horror turned his skull slowly to face Killer.

”i... missed?”

Yeah, lucky for her it was Killer who was there to witness the attack. If she'd been alone? No chance in the multiverse, Horror doesn't miss when he's in his hunter-mindset. Even the new guy wouldn't have been able to save her. He might've been quick enough, but that was the thing, he would've been too quick, in which case Horror would've been able to redirect his attack and hit her anyways. The trick was to get his own mind to work against him, to pull her away at the last millisecond, so that Horror wasn't able to catch up. They had worked through enough missions together for Killer to notice the slight differences in their reaction speed.

Wow, that all sounds like a ton of work. Why did Killer bother to rescue her again?

His gaze turned to her. All of her.

Oh yeeah, that's why...

”yea, i got her outta the way n 'ported out before ya landed one. was a close call though, almost made a tasty lil snack outta her... heh...”

Yeah, even from a distance, she was damn fine to look at... Distracting...

He couldn't wait to show her what he'd found today...

Killer's gaze travelled back up to her face, just in time to notice the slight glare she was giving him. No real threats behind that expression though. Aw.

”anyways, did'ya talk to paps about it?”

Taking the leap of faith into the kitchen today was turning out to be the right decision. It allowed her to learn a few things about the third skeleton.

Horror still had his brother. His Papyrus was living in his original universe, on the surface, apparently ”alive and well” (as Killer had described) and ”well-fed” (added by Horror). That was why she hadn't come across the large skeleton all day, as he'd been following Nightmare's order to have a little 'family vacation' to recover from yesterday's incident. Which, judging by the conversation, had been entirely out of his control, and he seemed to have a blank spot in his memory regarding the moment. She wasn't sure whether the information was relieving, or if it made her even more protective of her body parts. A serial killer monster with a past of eating humans was concerning in itself, but these things coupled with a tendency for amnesia? Mildly terrifying.

Still, she had a hard time looking away from that lone eyelight.

Horror was also able to speak, possibly feeling more comfortable to do so with a familiar face now in the room. He still took his time answering, his voice was low, and some of the words had a tendency to merge with each other occasionally, similar to someone trying to speak when they were really tired, or intoxicated. She decided to not question it. Neither the hole in his head. The two were obviously related.

Finally, Horror seemed to like food. A lot. He took cooking very seriously, moving through the kitchen naturally like a fish in water, finishing up the meal for four like he'd done so a million times before. He did allow her to help setting up the table though, waiting patiently as she searched through the drawers, not nearly as experienced in the layout of the kitchen as he obviously was.

She could also feel Killers nonexistant eyes on her ass every time she had to bend over to reach the bottom drawers. At least some things didn't change.

…

8:02 pm.

Food had been served, portion sizes calculated carefully to fit the needs of each one. And, considering how the half-full pot was placed next to the biggest plate on the table, it wasn't hard to guess where the leftovers were going to end up.

As Horror was finishing the serving by cutting a loaf of bread at the counter, she joined Killer at the table. The skeleton leaned his skull on his hands, and stared at her as if her face was broadcasting a particularly amusing tv-show.

That was the first warning sign that sitting opposite to him was a bad idea.

”sooo, howd'ya like the new bed?”

Apparently she hadn't imagined it before. His browbones were able to bounce up and down.

”nice n' sturdy, huh? was fortunate, really, that h got rid of the old one, wasn't really fittin' for what i had in mind... but hey, wasn't dusty's the same size? sounded like he had no problem fittin' into that last night... heheh... tell ya what though, horror's might be a bit of a challenge, if ya know what i mean, will definitely be a tighter f-mmph-...”

And no, judging by the precision, this definitely wasn't the first time that Horror had shoved bread into Killer's mouth to shut him up.

She wasn't able to meet either skeletons' faces for a moment.

…

8:15 pm.

Killer was scraping the last spoonfuls of his portion, she was halfway done with her plate, but Horror hadn't touched his. His eyelight was small, glued to the empty fourth seat opposite to him.

She sighed, and tried to give him her best sympathetic smile.

”Hey-, maybe he's just busy? I've only seen glimpses of him today as well, I'm sure he just has a bunch of work to do and will come to have dinner later..?”

Killer perked up.

”ya sayin' he has a lot on his plate?”

Her eye roll earned a laugh from Killer in response. Even Horror's grin twitched up slightly, and his eyelight seemed to snap out of its unmoving position for a moment.

But as soon as Killer's cackling died down, Horror continued staring at the empty chair, fiddling nervously with a spoon in his hand.

However much she wanted for Dust to just walk in and put an end to the tension in the room, it wasn't exactly a meeting that she was excited about. Dust had quite clearly expressed his dislike for Killer before, and him and Horror hadn't even met yet. Hell, the only thing he knew about Horror was his past of human eating, and the obvious fact that he tried to kill her last night with an axe. Almost made Dust choke on the pancakes too. It wasn't exactly the best starting point for their friendship.

If Dust showed up, that was.

…

8:22 pm.

Her plate was getting dangerously empty, despite her efforts of slowing down, trying her best to not leave Horror sitting all by himself at the table. Fortunately, Killer had gone for seconds, delaying his exit for another five minutes or so.

Killer kept glancing at the huge skeleton next to him occasionally, increasing in frequency as Horror's spoonless hand came up to scratch at the bone near his temple. Maybe that was the reason why Killer suddenly took it upon himself to start bombarding them with (awful) food-related jokes; apparently the ones about pizzas are too cheesy, skeletons go to barbeques for extra ribs, something about pies needing to get stuffed with filling (punctuated with a very obvious nod to her direction)...

She actively stopped listening after that one. She instead started working on a plan on how to shove metaphorical bread into Killer's mouth as well.

At least Horror's scratching had stopped, his hand now resting on the table again.

...

Suddenly, in her peripheral vision, a fourth figure appeared in the kitchen. Hood up, back turned, reaching for a shelf that held all the important condiments.

If she'd swallowed the mouthful of food any quicker, she probably would've choked on it.

”Dust!”

But, as soon as his hand reached the bottle of ketchup...

*Pop*

And he was gone, just as quickly as he'd arrived.

...

”ooo, someone's moody~...”

The urge to kick Killer in the tibia was strong. She decided to take a deep breath instead.

”I'll go get him. You...” She pointed at Killer. ”Behave yourself for two seconds, please?”

Killer grinned, slurping some of the food from his spoon. His free hand lifted up one phalanx, then another...

”Stop counting. You know what I meant. If not for me or Dust, do it for Horror.” The chair creaked under her as she stood up. Without waiting for a comment from Killer, she nodded a quick 'excuse me' to the chef, before turning to head towards Dust's room.

At least, that's where she hoped she'd find him in.

Chapter Text

Oh yeah. Dust forgot about the dinner. He wouldn't have shortcut himself right into the heart of the action otherwise. And for what? Ketchup? Not worth it.

He didn't see anything, but he knew, that the three of them were having a cute little family gathering over there, as if yesterday had never happened. That was something that Dust wouldn't forget anytime soon.

And, judging by the knock on his door, locking himself in his room for the rest of the evening wasn't gonna be accepted.

”Can I come in?”

'...fuck.'

With a flick of his phalanges, the door cracked open.

”Hey, dinner's ready, there's a plate waiting for you as well, I'd really appreciate if you... Uh...” She glanced quickly at the hallway before stepping in, closing the door behind her. ”Dust? Everything okay?”

No. Nothing was.

Dust was well aware that he looked just as shit as he felt. He was splayed out on the bed, gazing at the ceiling through half-lidded sockets, still clutching the infamous bottle of ketchup in his hand. The exhaustion was clear as day on his face. He didn't bother trying to hide it. But maybe it was justified for once, considering... Well, everything.

His mission yesterday. Whatever happened during the night. The fact that he'd lost control again. The conversation with her this morning, finding out what (almost) happened in the few hours that he was gone. Nightmare's interrogation, followed by lectures about fighting strategies, discussing plans on how to efficiently turn the murder duo into a three piece, the excruciating talk about possibly making her the fourth member...

The throbbing pain, slowly eating away his HP. The voice in his head reminding him how incapable he was at providing her the safety that she needed.

Were there multiple voices?

Dust listened for a moment.

…

Yeah, there were.

”Dust, look at me.”

He slowly turned his skull to meet her eyes. She was crouched down beside the bed, looking at him with a crease on her brows. Concern.

”hey.” Dust half-whispered.

She gave a weak smile in return.

”Hey. What's wrong?”

She reached her hand to cup Dust's cheekbone, sneaking under the fabric of his hood. And maybe it was the fatigue, or the fact that her touch seemed to quiet down the voices, make him forget about the pain...

Dust leaned against her hand with a soft sigh, his sockets falling shut.

For a moment, he was able to just breathe. She allowed him, stroking her fingers against his face gently. The long forgotten scientist in him wondered how long he would be able to drag this moment out if he just purposefully delayed his reply, how long until she'd realize that he was stalling for time...

Her hand left his face to hold his free hand instead. She squeezed it, reminding him that she was still waiting for an answer.

10 seconds. He estimated 15, but he'd take whatever he could get.

Dust blinked his sockets half-open again. He took a breath before speaking quietly, the exhaustion seeping into his voice as well.

”you're way too comfortable with them.”

She hummed thoughtfully, before shrugging.

”Probably. But, they're just so similar to-...”

The small flinch on Dust's face stopped her sentence short. She sighed.

”Look, I know you don't like hearing it, but I think you'll understand what I mean as soon as you get to know them better.”

”y/n.” Dust stopped her. ”they're dangerous to you.”

”And you're not?”

Another wave of pain. Right beneath his ribs. This time, he managed to not flinch.

”that's exactly the point. you're putting yourself at risk. you're just acceptin' us and the shit we do like it's nothin'-”

”Dust no.” It was her turn to interrupt. ”We're not having this conversation now. They're waiting for us in the kitchen, Horror won't eat if you're not there, so please? You're gonna have to meet him sooner or later anyways, so why not get it out of the way now?”

Why does she care about her could've-been murderer so much? Why is it so easy for her to forgive and forget?

”And if you don't like the food, you can just drink ketchup for the rest of the night for all I care.”

The corner of Dust's tired grin twitched up slightly.

”temptin' me with a good time?”

Her eyes flicked briefly to the bottle of ketchup. Then back to Dust. The dangerously infectious smile spreading on her face gave away her plan a second before she acted on it. With as much speed as a human could manage, she stole the bottle from Dust's hand and started waving it in the air just out of his reach.

He let her, obviously. Making her fail the attempt would've been as easy as taking monster candy from a baby. Just another example of the dangerous power imbalance she was faced with.

But, could he really blame her for not being able to listen to the voice of reason, if her taunting him with a bottle of ketchup was what got Dust out of bed that evening?

The sound of Killer tapping his phalanges on the kitchen table came to a halt the second the two of them walked through the doorway.

Well, she actually walked in. Dust froze in place, his sockets widening the smallest amount as he stared at the skeleton twice his size. During the walk to the kitchen he'd also managed to bury his skull so far into his hood that it cast a shadow on his face, making him look ten times grumpier than usual, a stark contrast to the almost-smile he'd given her as she'd finally managed to persuade him to this.

Well, no turning back now.

”So, hi again. Dust, this is Horror. Horror, Dust. Get along and don't destroy each other, please and thank youuu.” She gestured between the skeletons, before returning to her own seat at the table, placing the ketchup bottle next to Dust's plate. It stayed there for exactly two seconds, before Killer reached over the table to claim it to himself, immediately popping it open and taking a generous gulp out of it.

Right. One of the multiversal 'Sans' things then.

She met his gaze briefly, giving him a glare that could've only been interpreted as 'watch yourself'. Killer's grin twitched, but he managed to keep the snort of laughter to himself. He replied with a wink, pulling a metaphorical zipper shut over his teeth.

It did nothing to reassure her.

...

Horror stared at Dust. Dust stared at Horror. If she thought the tension in the room had been thick before, it was getting unbearable now. Both of their expressions were impossible to read, but one thing was obvious; neither of them were exactly enthusiastic about this meeting.

Unlike Killer, who couldn't seem to be able to sit still.

Finally, Dust spoke with his usual monotone, still standing at the doorway. Only, the words weren't exactly the ones that she'd been hoping for.

”so, what are ya feedin' her? human?”

”Dust.” She snapped in reflex.

Gosh, was a monthy salary for having to act like a kindergarten teacher for these murder skeletons an unreasonable thing to ask for? Minimum wage? Anything?

”what? i asked him a question. an easy one at that.” Dust replied with fake innocence, never taking his eyelights off Horror.

And if the two of them weren't bad enough to deal with, she had to keep an eye out for Killer as well, whose skull kept bouncing between the two, an excited energy coming off of him.

Horror's face was a mixture of emotions, as he finally shook his skull in reply.

”okay. and are ya gonna try to chop her up again in the near future? wouldn't suggest it.” Dust continued, hiding the casual threat behind his uninterested tone.

Killer's patience finally failed him. Earlier that she'd expected (hoped) as well.

”ooo careful, he's stronger that he looks, can go up against undyne alone in any 'verse ya can think of... the axe has the strongest stats for a weapon i've seen as well n' he knows how to use it, keep talkin' like that and he just might hit ya up-”

”shut. up.”

Killer clamped a hand over his mouth, not exactly in an attempt to suppress his giggles, but more for the visual effect of looking like a gossiping schoolgirl. And holy hell did she want to slap some basic social interaction rules into each one of them. Well, maybe not Horror. He was literally doing nothing wrong, sitting there silently with a spoon in his hand, his gaze locked onto the table. She was almost starting to feel bad for him.

”Guys...” She started, rubbing her temples in visible frustration. ”Can we not-”

”he didn't answer the question.” Dust interrupted, as if the start of her sentence had been completely inaudible to him. Throwing her head back in defeat, she decided to mentally exclude herself from the conversation.

”ask again. he might've forgotten.”

”oh yea? did he forget to bring his axe as well and that's the only reason she's still alive?”

”nah, he's pretty capable without it as well.”

”not capable enough to answer a simple question though?”

”aww you're being mean, naughty skeletons aren't allowed at the table~...”

”guess i'll starve then.”

*Crack*

...

The spoon in Horror's hand snapped in half. Everything else went quiet.

Even Killer straightened in his seat.

”uh, wouldn't use the s-word 'round him if i were ya...”

Horror's hand holding the broken spoon trembled. His other hand came up to his face, his phalanges creeping towards his empty socket, twitching as if they were searching for something to grab onto. His expression had a hint of the same insanity as when he'd charged at her with his axe, grin twitching, eyelight shrunken small...

But the most terrifying thing was how easily his phalanges slipped inside the darkness of his socket. Struggling for a moment to find a firm hold, they finally grabbed the edge, and pulled.

*Crack*

That sound... Came from bone.

Some dust fell onto the table from his socket, right next to his untouched plate.

She averted her eyes, accidentally making brief eye contact with Killer, who'd apparently chosen to look away from the huge skeleton as well, distracting himself with focusing on finishing his meal instead.

The silence was deafening, enough for her to hear the quickening pounding of her heart. There were only some more quieter cracks of bone and the occasional sound of dust falling onto the table like sand. She didn't want to look. Even Killer had gone quiet, which in itself was an unsettling thing to witness.

She needed to do something, say something, anything to get him to stop, he was hurting himself...

...

Suddenly, with a bang, Dust slammed his hand on the table and grabbed a spoon with a lot more force than was necessary.

”fine, i'll eat! just stop fuckin'-... fingerin' your socket, that's disgusting.”

Killer burst into laughter without a second thought, spitting out the last mouthful of his food back onto the plate in the process.

”hahahah! ooh fuck that's a good one! fingerin'... heheh...” He elbowed Horror next to him, whose hand had frozen in place, unmoving in his socket. ”yeah ya better stop, dusty here is gettin' embarrassed...”

Dust threw a butter knife at Killer before sitting down, the metal making a pathetic clank as it hit him in the rib, eventually clattering its way to the floor.

Killer only giggled more as he stood up, brushing some breadcrumbs off of his hoodie.

”welp, this was fun. thanks for the food h. and oh, by the way...” His skull turned to face Dust. ”boss wants ya to stick to your own rooms for the nights. said there's too much positivity goin' on... he's not really a fan of that, ya know...”

Dust wasn't meeting his sockets. In fact, he didn't react at all, only continued death-gripping his spoon.

”sooo...” Killer's gaze switched between the three for a moment, desperate for any and every reaction he could pull out. Maybe, if he had a better sense of social awareness, he might've looked like he was trying to read the room before blurting something stupid out of his mouth again.

If he did, he made the correct decision based on that.

”okay have fun byeee!”

*Pop*

Killer out.

Chapter Text

The kitchen was quiet again. But the air didn't feel nearly as deadly as it had been a few moments ago. The energy now almost felt... Serene.

Horror's hand had lowered back down to the table, some dust still clinging to the tips of his phalanges. His spoon was still cracked in half, which she decided to fix by bringing him an intact one from the drawer. Despite the switch to a calmer athmosphere after Killer's exit, she didn't exactly feel comfortable breaking the silence just yet, deciding to just leave the utensil on the table within Horror's reach. He was still clutching the broken one, but his eyelight did find the replacement presented to him, which he stared at with the same faraway look that he'd given the table the past ten minutes.

Dust was stirring the food on his plate absentmindedly.

”It's good. You should try it.” She suggested with a half-whisper, returning to her seat and trying to prove her words true by continuing with her own portion. Cold now, but still delicious.

Dust did seem to be considering the offer. His spoon was full, hovering an inch above the plate. His eyelights were hidden in the depths of his hood, but by the looks of it, both him and Horror were doing a lot of 'staring at spoons' today.

She wondered if Dust still refused to believe how similar they were...

...

Finally, he lifted the spoon towards his mouth. It slipped inside, quickly, before pulling out.

...

No coughing. Good sign.

Instead, Dust reached over the table and grabbed the bottle of ketchup. The already open bottle was turned upside down, and a ridiculous amount of ketchup was poured onto his plate, drowning the delicious homemade meal in store bought tomato liquid.

He took another spoonful.

Then another.

If she ignored the straight up criminal ketchup to food -ratio, it looked like Dust was actually eating the meal normally.

She let out a small sigh of relief. This was something she could live with. At least he was eating. At worst he'd only made it weird as hell and a bit rude towards Horror, who had spent all this time preparing a meal for them, waited patiently for the last person to arrive at the table, and who...

…

Who reached over the table to grab the ketchup to himself, and mimicked Dust's actions by pouring the second half of the bottle onto his own plate, absolutely covering it in red as well. Her thus far internal cringing turned into visible confusion on her face, with an unavoidable hint of disgust mixed in.

Horror finally took his first spoonful, analyzing the taste for a moment, before shrugging.

”yer right... s' better... like this.”

Dust's barely audible huff of amusement was overpowered by the mix of a groan and a laugh that came from the seat next to him.

”You can't be serious.” She sighed, leaning her face into her hand in disbelief.

Horror chuckled in reply. A deep, rumbly sound, which in itself would've sounded comforting, even without the well needed, almost comedic release from the tension that had gone down throughout the evening. Who knew that in order to make two serial killers get along with each other, all you needed to do was to give them a bottle of ketchup and things would solve themselves?

…

Yeah, as if life was that simple.

For a few minutes, both skeletons ate their tomato-enhanced meals in silence. She was also getting close to finishing hers.

Eventually the air started to feel thick again. Dust had paused his eating, and the only thing betraying his stoic appearance was the nervous bounce of his foot. And, well, it didn't take a genius to figure out what was going through his mind. They still hadn't gotten an answer to whether they should fear for the return of the axe murderer, after all.

Finally, Dust sighed, breaking the silence.

”so, you're able to speak now?” He spoke, voice calm but emotionlessly cold, his skull lifting to stare at the bigger skeleton.

Horror met his eyelights briefly, before turning back to the table. After a few seconds, all he reacted with was a wordless grunt. Finally feeling safe enough to do so (and no longer having a certain loudmouth there to interrupt), she decided to help them out a bit.

”Uh, give him some time, okay? He does speak, but I think it's kinda hard for him to.” She spoke gently, turning her eyes to Horror, as she was unable to meet Dust's. She gave him a small, accepting smile, which was met with a slow swelling of his eyelight. There was an unspoken look of gratitude in his expression.

Horror's eyelight turned momentarily to the table again, and he breathed deep to prepare himself.

Finally, his skull lifted to meet Dust's piercing gaze.

...

”...sorry.”

Regret. Remorse. A genuine apology, just like the damn pancakes.

Dust stared ahead, holding the eye contact for intimidatingly long, daring for his oversized copy to be the first to break it.

But, the red eye stayed in place. Horror continued, his voice low, careful.

”dun wanna... hurt her. never wanna. will... stay away if... if i need to.”

…

Stars damn it.

Dust himself was all too familiar with the urge. He'd lost control before, been unable to think straight, he'd isolated himself in an attempt to keep her safe... He'd not only tried to kill her, but succeeded in it as well, multiple times.

”and what about the...” Dust started, shaking his skull slightly, eventually losing the staring contest that he himself started. The words were painful to get out, but he needed to know.

”why humans?” He pushed through his teeth, in fear of losing the ability to say anything at all.

Horror finally averted his gaze, his skull dropping. Yeah, as if Dust needed a first row seat to the abyss inside his head as well.

He replied with one word. A word, that carried years, maybe decades of pain, suffering and fear.

”...hungry.”

He wasn't referring to the present moment. But he might as well have, considering the urgency in which he suddenly started inhaling his meal, eventually ditching the spoon in favour of pouring the contents of his plate directly down his non-throat.

He continued speaking, muttering mostly to himself.

”never wanted to. needed... anythin' we could... get...”

Horror stuffed some bread into his mouth, chewing on it while refilling his plate with the leftovers. They too, were gulped straight down. And once he'd finally started talking, it seemed like he wasn't able to stop.

”...it was... bad... real bad... kid left us to... starve...” Horror continued fussing with any utensils or pieces of bread he could get his hands on, mindlessly arranging and rearranging them on the table, as if reminding himself of their existance. ”tried everythin'... had nothin', no food, no power, lived through... hell, all of us, everyone, me n' pap-”

”right! got it, just-...” Dust sighed, finally turning his gaze back to his plate again. ”i got it.”

Horror was left breathing heavily, gripping the pot in his hands with enough force to leave dents in the metal.

...

Yeah. All three of them were the same amount of insane, weren't they.

And she was stuck with them. The least they should do was to bring her to a safe universe, she should live happily without being surrounded by lv-corrupted monsters, she should to be able to live without fearing for her life...

She shouldn't have reached for Horror's hand, dislodging it from the pot and holding him like she'd held Dust, wordlessly comforting him and accepting him as the murderer, the monster that he was.

That they all were. Each a broken version of the same damn base code.

…

”YOU'RE JEALOUS.”

She'd managed to reawaken a lot of emotions in Dust that he thought he'd never be able to experience again, some of them things he thought he never would. And none of them came without pain.

Surprisingly, it wasn't her holding Horror's hand that caused the feeling. It was something else, a resonance in the air that made Dust realize that maybe some versions of him were more broken than the others. He wasn't exactly jealous of Horror's timeline, the guy had obviously gone through a lot, but HP loss, scars, or malformations from physical injuries were very different than the effects of a broken soul. Dust would prefer the former anyday, and his recent attempts in substituting one for the other were solid proof of that.

At least, he gave an A for effort for the big guy for managing to keep his human grabbing instincts in control this time. His hand, his breathing, even the swollen eye trembled in reaction to her touch, but he made no move to return the gesture. Maybe to her it might've looked like remnants of his episode, but to any magical being it was obvious, how painfully difficult it was for Horror to restrict himself.

He could easily let his intent overpower Dust's and drag her under with it. But, Dust couldn't help but appreciate the fact that he didn't.

Horror didn't allow her to help with the dishes. She tried offering, multiple times, but only got insistent shakes of his skull in reply. She eventually gave up, and settled for thanking him for the food probably a few times too many.

Overall, she could consider this dinner a success. Dust and Horror had achieved the most basic level of communication, and Horror had promised to try to not kill her. Both good things. The only thing on her to-do list now was to persuade Killer to tone down his... Well, everything. Maybe she could try to schedule a ”work” meeting tomorrow just to take care of that?

Before leaving the kitchen, she found something on the counter that caught her eye.

”Hey, no-one told me that there's candy here!” She exclaimed, grabbing the glass jar filled with small, wrapped up treats. ”Can I take one?”

The following silence from the two skeletons suddenly felt unnecessarily uncomfortable, which she could only assume was not candy related. At least, no-one was objecting, so...

She took one, popping it in her mouth.

It tasted... Weird. Like liquorice? No, not really...

Spicy liquorice? Maybe. It was alright. Gave her a weird boost in energy.

...

”...SANS IS LOSING HP, AND HE'S REFUSING TO HEAL – THE CANDIES WILL HELP HIM, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME-”

...

”Want one?” She asked Dust.

She didn't get a reply. It was as if she'd told him that the world was gonna end. That's how tense he suddenly went.

She took her go-to approach for situations like this; patience. She waited, as Dust processed whatever mental gymnastics was happening this time, until his eyelights slowly turned to her. Or, well, his face was still barely visible under his hood, so it was hard to tell whether he was actually looking at her or at an empty space next to her shoulder.

Deciding to not question his behavior (out loud), she unwrapped another piece of candy, and brought it to Dust's mouth level.

”Open up.”

For a good five seconds, Dust looked at the treat like it held all the answers in the multiverse. Then, his eyelights turned to Horror, of all things he could be looking at.

Then, to the air next to her.

And only then, back to the candy.

Finally, hesitantly, his mouth opened.

She pushed the candy past his barely open teeth. Dust's sockets immediately squeezed shut, and he breathed in deep, exhaling with a stutter, as if the small non-liquorice thing was painful to eat. His fists were clenched tight.

After a moment or two of composing himself, he spoke, voice barely audible.

”two more.”

...

What the hell did she just feed him?

She turned the jar in her hand. Nope, there was no label, nothing to help with the questions rushing through her mind.

She unwrapped two more candies, and popped them into Dust's mouth as well. He didn't react nearly as intensely, but he still sucked in some sharp inhales while the candies dissolved inside his mouth.

”What are these?” She asked, unable to control her curiosity anymore.

”monster candy.” Dust replied quickly, apparently not planning on elaborating further. He turned his eyelights briefly to Horror, before they eyed the jar in her hands. He nodded towards the skeleton opposite to him.

”give him one.”

Horror's sockets widened. It seemed like he was just as surprised by the proposition as she was. Oh well, any sort of communication between them was progress, so she decided to not let her own confusion get in the middle of it.

”One, or three? How many?”

Horror thought for a moment, studying his hand as if it held the correct answer. He rubbed his phalanges together, causing a small cloud of leftover dust to fall onto the table. Eyesocket residue.

”one's... enough.” He finally spoke slowly.

She nodded, unwrapping another candy. Before handing it over to him though, she paused. They weren't exactly on 'eating from each others hands' -terms yet, were they?

Horror apparently came to the same conclusion, as he held out his massive hand towards her. She dropped the treat onto his palm, from where he brought it into his mouth.

A small sigh left him, and his sockets fluttered shut for a moment. When they opened again, his eyelight met Dust's.

”...thanks.”

…

Dust nodded once in reply.

11:58 pm.

Following Nightmare's 'no positivity' -rule, she settled into her room, preparing to spend the night alone. Must be rough to be him, if a bit of pleasure is uncomfortable enough for the need of a castle-wide fun ban... Sounded juuust a bit dramatic.

Oh well. She could manage. In fact, maybe getting a bit of alone time in a skeleton-free zone was healthy for her as well.

She yawned. Yeah, this shirt was good as any to sleep in. She'd took a couple of naps in it already after all. Just maybe this time, preferably, without the bra under it.

She unclasped the hooks from her back, and reached under the sleeves of her t-shirt to pull off the straps one by one. Reaching one hand under her shirt, she was able pull the bra off completely. Without removing her shirt! Ta-dah!

Who said that humans can't use magic? Explain that then.

”nice.”

...

Her heart lept into her throat. Then, her head snapped to the direction of the voice.

The door was still closed. It had never been opened.

Yet, there was a grinning skeleton leaning against it, hands stuck in his pockets.

...

Oh no.

Chapter Text

”Killer, what the fuck?” She whisper-yelled at the skeleton in her room. ”You can't just-... This is my room, I could've been changing or, I mean I was, but I could've... You know... Ugh!”

Yeah, judging by Killer's widening grin, that thought would be useless in getting her point across. She sighed and tossed her bra into the closet, half wanting to hit him in the face with it but managing to resist the urge at the last second (again, wouldn't be exactly helpful). She threw the closet door shut and pressed her back against it, before hiding her face in her hands, sighing.

”You're an idiot. Why are you here? You shouldn't be here.”

She heard Killer's chuckle from the door, low and deep. Damnit, she had thought out a whole plan to confront him, but she wasn't prepared to deal with his shit right now... At least she was still somewhat decently dressed and decided to do magic tricks with her bra instead of accidentally flashing him or something.

”just thought i'd pop in...” Killer shrugged and pushed himself off the door, and started slowly approaching her. ”was out today n'... found somethin' for ya.”

He was coming closer. There was only a closet behind her. Absolutely no space to back off. Only the two of them in the room (of which two thirds was bed, thanks to him).

She decided to not let it get to her this time.

”Cool, what is it?” She sighed. ”Show it to me and then I'll kick you out of my room.”

Yeah, strong start. She could keep up a normal conversation with him. This was no problem. She could act uninterested, maybe he'd get bored and leave.

Killer came to a stop in front of her, only half a step in between them. He chose to not reply, as his hands came up from their pockets to her face, carefully tucking a few flyaway strands of hair behind her ears.

Oh. Holy fuck he was close.

”You didn't... Answer my question.” She tried again, trying to replace the nervousness in her voice with a hint of frustration.

Killer continued ignoring her, but his rough, fingerless glove travelled against her cheek to press a phalanx on her lips in a shushing gesture. He winked, before dragging the digit against her lower lip and releasing it with a small, wet 'pop'-sound. She only caught a glimpse of the item that he pulled out from his pocket, before it was placed on top of her head, both of his hands adjusting something snugly behind her ears.

Once satisfied with his work, Killer took a step back and tilted his skull in amusement, grin widening.

She reached up with one hand to either confirm or (hopefully) deny what her eyes had failed to see properly in the dark. But, as her hand traced the soft material of the headband from one fluffy triangular ear to the other, she wasn't able to deny the truth for long.

Defeated, she dropped her hand back down.

”Seriously?”

Killer merely nodded enthusiastically at her with pure, uncontrolled excitement on his face. The red target on his chest was shining.

She sighed. Guess it was time for that, after all.

”Killer, we need to talk.”

An amused huff of laughter left him in reply. His face leaned closer to hers, skull tilting, voice dropping...

”aw, but little kitties don't talk, do they?”

…

It would've been an understatement to say that her brain short-circuited. For a second, her lips snapped shut in reflex. Just as quickly though, they opened again.

”I'm not...” She shook her head as if physically trying to get rid of his words that were ringing in her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly and pinched the bridge of her nose (hopefully to make her heartrate calm the fuck down, to snap out of it...)

She took a deep breath and met his empty sockets again, this time intending to not go braindead from a bit of flirting.

”Listen, we need to have some rules set into place, okay? We're coworkers, I guess, and we can be friends, but I don't wanna make things complicated. So...”

Killer (surprisingly) backed off, now standing upright with an interested look on his face. Or was he close to bursting into laughter? There was no way to know.

”First of all, no more teleporting into my room. Or like... In the shower. I can't-, just... It's not okay.”

Holy shit was it hard to talk serious with cat ears on...

”And please, no talk about knives or whatever...” She gestured briefly to her head. ”This is... When Dust is around, I don't want him to-...”

The rest of the sentence got stuck in her throat, as her attention was caught by a knife, speak of the devil, glowing with a red hue materializing in Killer's hand. She subconsciously pressed her back tighter against the door of the closet.

”heh. that's cute. what other rules ya got for me?”

It was big. Like a kitchen knife, the blade a good seven to eight inches. Something that he was obviously using to kill. Killer never looked down to it, his dark gaze stayed on her, drinking in every expression of hers as he wiped the blade clean on his shorts – *Shink... Shink...*

She forced herself to snap her eyes back to Killer's face, which, unfortunately, wasn't much less intimidating to look at. The dark stream of whatever was leaking from his sockets had intensified, now unable to dry out before dripping onto the floor next to his sneakers. He was grinning, slightly manic, with something predatory hiding behind his expression.

”none, huh? or did kitty's lil tongue get stolen by a big, bad tiger?” The tone of his voice was light, mocking. Was he pouting at her?

Right, he was just messing with her, again. His knives were nothing she needed to be afraid of. She could bite back. Just a little bit.

With another (hopefully not the last) burst of determination from somewhere deep inside her, she rolled her eyes, and stuck her tongue out to him.

”Nah, still got it. Listen Killer, you're not gonna scare me with your-”

…

The determination from her soul was suddenly faced with a stronger one.

A skeletal hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her around, before it roughly shoved her body against the closet door with a loud bang, knocking the wind out of her lungs. A second after, another bang, and the glowing knife was stabbed to the door next to her head, several inches deep, right where her gaze had frozen in shock. Killer, now behind her, spoke right next to her ear, his voice dangerously close to a growl.

”listen. closely. human. you've unfortunately gotten yourself stuck in our territory. the boss has plans to keep ya 'round, but i'd highly suggest ya try to stay on his good side, cause it only takes one tiny little wrong move on your part, and he won't hesitate to have ya removed. and, ya wanna take a lil guess who usually gets to do the dirty work 'round here, hm?”

Killer pushed his hand against her upper back even harder, simultaneously giving the handle of his knife a sharp twist, making the wood around it crack and splinter.

It was the killing blow. Smooth and practiced.

”did i make myself clear?”

She couldn't answer. The weight of his hand pinning her to the door was starting to make breathing difficult, bordering on getting lightheaded. This was also the first time she'd really felt his magic. Unlike Dust, who at the very least had the slight static crackle surrounding him at all times, Killer's seemed to be more controlled, reserved only for very specific circumstances. And now, something behind her was almost burning the surrounding air. It was quickly replacing what was left of her ”plan” with a warm rush of fear.

No... Fear was supposed to feel cold...

”so, ya can make rules all ya want, but remember that you're in no position to do so. ya may be able to act all soft n' cute with your murder-boyfriend... even somehow got horror all heart-eyed for ya, but...”

He leaned closer, teeth pressed against her ear, his growly whisper travelling across her skin.

”i'm. not. like that. to me, you're just a little plaything. a pretty lil toy, to keep me entertained...”

Killer's hand on her back released the hold and reached up to tangle his phalanges into her hair, pulling to force her head to fall back against his clavicle. She was panting, mainly due to no longer having her lungs forcefully compressed against a hard surface. Maybe also... From something else.

A small, involuntary sob ecaped from between her rapid breaths. Maybe it was the logical side of her brain scolding her for not resisting, for being lured into submission despite her efforts.

”aww, did'ya get scared of me after all?” Killer's mocking tone returned.

He tugged on her hair tighter, tilting her head to the side to expose her neck. He leaned over her shoulder, and a tilt of his skull forced a drop of his eye leakage to fall onto her collarbone, making her hiss in pain through her teeth. It burned, like hot candle wax travelling down her skin towards her chest. Killer's breathing only got heavier, his gaze intensely focused on the skin of her neck.

”heh... somethin' tells me you're not all that turned off by that...”

His hand left the handle of his knife to lightly trace a phalanx across her neck, over a very particular spot. The scar there was faded white, thin, barely visible even in daylight. But apparently the lack of eyelights on Killer didn't hinder his ability to spot a weeks old knife wound.

She could hear the grin, the intrigue in his voice.

”heh, did dusty do that to ya?”

Killer grabbed the handle of his knife again, and grunted as he yanked it off the door. A cracked hole was left in the wood.

”did he hurt ya?”

The knife slipped under the hem of her shirt. She tried to convince herself that the small gasp that left her mouth was only a reaction to the sudden coldness on the skin of her stomach, travelling upwards...

”did he make ya cry?”

Killer's deepening breaths were a reaction to... Something else. The burn of his magic was starting to become more prominent where his pelvis was inches away from touching her.

The knife reached her sternum, from where he let the dull back of the blade trace over her breast, stopping at the edge of a hardened nipple. Again, just from the sensation of the cold metal. Not from whatever was happening between them.

But, with a small, but very precise flick of his knife against her nipple, he managed to pull out a whimper from her.

He snarled.

”yeah... and ya fuckin' liked it, didnt'ya...”

The logical side of her brain screamed 'no'.

Her soul was screaming for something else.

Judging by the red glow under her shirt dimming, Killer had dematerialized his knife. He released the grip on her hair and grabbed her hips with both hands, pulling her ass tight against his crotch.

Aaand yep. There it was. At least she wasn't the only one worked up by this encounter.

”Ah...”

No... She meant to say no! This was not what she was intending to-

Killer shushed her, as if sensing her inner turmoil.

”i know, i know, ya can't... not before he agrees...” Killer spoke while shamelessly grinding his very obvious bulge against her. ”mmmh... wasn't intendin' for this either but... you're just waay too much fun to play with...”

Oh, so he did have some respect for her boundaries after all? Good thing he did, cause she'd apparently lost the ability to do so quite a while ago.

”yeah... lemme handle the convincing. will tell ya when he's ready. and i'll promise to keep quiet about this, if ya answer just one question for me, kitten...” Killer breathed, one hand coming up to stroke the faux ears on her head. ”so... once we do get the 'go-ahead'...”

Killer thrust once, hard, the entire closet rattling with the force of his hipbones colliding against her. His voice, breathy but demanding, was right up against her ear again.

”is that how ya want it? want me to give it to ya rough and dirty, exactly how ya deserve it for being such a fuckin' tease? want me to split that tight cunt of yours open and fuck ya sore? tell me. and if ya even think about lyin' to me, i'll slice your pants in half and do all that right here. stars knows i fuckin' want to...”

With each word the rational side of her brain slipped away further, eventually reaching the point of no return. She was only able to keep nodding. Enthusiastically.

Killer's responding chuckle was dark.

”thought so.”

With a quick slap on her ass, hard enough to make her jump, Killer popped out of existance. She was left standing against the closet with a sting on her butt, a burn on her skin, a pair of cat ears on her head, and thoroughly soaked underwear.

...

Neither of them slept for a while.

Chapter Text

It was so bright.

It was so loud.

Her breathing was heavy, as she tried blinking her eyes open. But the blinding light shining down made it painful, impossible.

She threw a hand over her eyes to block most of it, and decided to focus on listening instead. Was she in danger?

She heard people screaming. Car horns honking. Some indecipherable clanks and bangs. None of the sounds were exactly close to her, which was comforting, she might just be in a safe place.

Her free hand felt the area around her. The ground she was lying on was warm, and it felt hard like stone. There was some texture to it, tiles maybe?

*BOOM*

Oh. That was a sound she knew very, very well.

Day three sucked, to put it mildly.

Partly, she had hoped that her role at the castle wouldn't be that of a stay at home maid / therapist / a random human that just came as a bonus when a new recruit was brought in. She'd gotten bored of that occupation after only one day, and the urge to have something to do, to make herself useful, had already overtaken most of her thoughts.

Well, she really should be more careful of what to wish for. Because after today, she was getting close to praying to some higher powers that Nightmare would have a job more suitable for her current talents, than whatever the hell he was intending to turn her into.

She just required ”training”, the god had said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. But no matter how hard she tried to wrap her head around it, she couldn't find a single reason why spending hours, days, weeks, months, (years?) to prepare an ordinary human to join a trio of multiversal murderers would be worth the time and effort. She'd tried asking, but was only met with one cryptic answer after another.

One of the answers that confused her the most, was when she'd questioned him about the ”nature” of her upcoming job.

”Oh, you're no stranger to taking a life, if that's what you're worried about.”

”What? What do you mean, I've never-... I haven't killed anyone!”

”Hmm... Correct... Maybe not this version of you...”

After that, the tentacle had gone back to writing some pointless notes, leaving her yet again with more questions than answers. She desperately wanted to argue back, to demand for an explanation, but a small bit of friendly advice from last night stopped those plans short. She decided that it was better to drop the subject and to try to stay on the god's good side instead, if only to not get ”removed”.

The boys' reactions were mixed.

Killer had obviously known about this upcoming arrangement for a good while, and it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume that he even had a say in it, considering the enthusiasm with which he arrived at the first group meeting of the day. And, surprisingly, it seemed like he had no trouble acting professional and innocent all day, meeting her eyes as if he hadn't been two seconds away from fucking her into oblivion last night. Her attempts at brushing the whole thing off were not nearly as successful, as even the sight of his black tears made the burn mark hidden under her sweater itch, serving as a not at all helpful little reminder of what went down. But she couldn't help but think, had he actually taken some of her ”rules” to heart after all? Or was he just behaving because Nightmare was around?

Horror wasn't reacting much, as expected. But whenever she'd shown signs of hesitation (aka borderline panicking, no longer being able to hide the fact that she was absolutely terrified to be involved in this), Horror would either offer her a crooked smile or tell her to not worry, that she would 'do just fine'... Easy for him to say, he was a big and scary magical skeleton monster with an axe, she was just a human. But, it was kinda sweet, in a weird way. She couldn't help but appreciate his effort to offer some reassurance, as it was something that the others seemed to be incapable of doing.

And Dust... Well...

He was quiet. Unmoving. Face hidden in the depths of his hood, only speaking when a question was presented to him and even then only replying with a single word or two. He had obviously been somewhat aware of Nightmare's plans, considering his unwillingness to argue back on the topics that obviously bothered him the most. Those of which included, but were not limited to; the importance of gaining sufficient LV, practice encounters, soul trait utilization, the possibility of save power reignition...

She tried her hardest to follow along. She really did. But it seemed like Nightmare was more interested in the practical side of things, rather than actually bothering to explain to her why he considered this a good idea.

And those early morning meetings weren't even the part that sucked the most about this day. It was the headache. The dizziness. The nausea. The blackouts. Literally everything that had to do with the first part of her training; learning to stay awake through multiversal shortcuts.

Safe to say, she wasn't very successful. She was starting to lose count of how many attempts she'd gone through, and none of Nightmares ideas that he got from his stupid books were helping. There was just one sentence that gave her some relief; ”multidimensional travel, as uncomfortable and disorienting as it may be, is not physically dangerous for the human body”. So, at least she knew she wouldn't die trying. However, it was hard to ignore the fact that Nightmare had only now thought of the possibility, as she'd already been yanked from her home universe to his without a second thought.

...

She tried eating some lunch. She requested a one hour break from shortcut training to make sure that at least some of the nutrients would absorb into her body before her stomach would most likely empty itself again.

Horror helped communicate the request to Nightmare. She got a three hour lunch break. Thanks Horror.

…

And, if this all wasn't a lot to deal with on it's own, she was also doomed to spend each attempt with Killer's arm wrapped around her middle. He had been insistent in volunteering for the job, claiming that he apparently was the one most experienced with the shortcuts, and would be able to best take care of her if (and when, for the umpteenth time) she would pass out in the void. It did sound like a believable reason, but knowing Killer, it couldn't be the only one.

Nightmare had agreed. No-one had dared to argue.

...

So, here we go again.

”au one-twenty-two comin' up. ya ready kitten?”

No. The pet name isn't helping.

”Yeah sure. Knock me out.”

Killer's arm draped around her waist, pulling her close against his side. They stepped through the portal into nothingness.

Interdimensional travel guidebook, chapter 16 (troubleshooting):

Don't look at the void. Don't listen to the void. Don't think about the void. Obstruct your vision with your eyelids. Fill your chest region with air and remove it through your mouth cavity in a calm manner. Don't think about the void. Don't think about the void. Don't think about... His hand... Grabbing your skin... It's just there to keep you safe... Don't think... About-

Killer grabbed her as her body went limp, and she was carried back to the castle on his shoulder like a ragdoll. Again.

The next day, there was progress. It seemed that ”disorientation from direct exposure to interdimensional void matter” was indeed ”reduced, when relocating to neighbouring coordinates”. So, in human language, the closest accessable universe to Nightmare's own (conveniently labeled as ”zero”) was AU #4, which basically meant that teleporting to it should naturally be easier for her body to handle. Nightmare had been weirdly hesitant in suggesting it (and opted to torture her with longer trips for the entirety of yesterday), but it seemed like he was running out of options at the same rate as she was running out of will to continue on with this ”experiment” of his. For this one, as well as a few of the previous ones, he required the whole trio to join her, just in case ”anything unusual happened”.

She still passed out. Kind of. Her body did give up on life again, causing her to slump against Killer in the darkness of the void, but her mind was able to stay somewhat alert for the first time. Which turned out to not necessarily be a good thing, as the conversation she overhead only increased the throbbing headache that she was starting to suffer from.

”heh, fallin' for me again there, are ya?”

”that's the fifth fuckin' time you've made that joke, ya mind shuttin' up now?”

”but she hasn't heard it yet! one of these times she'll be awake enough, i can't risk losing the opportunity!”

”and how do you know she's not awake right now.”

”oh, she wouldn't be able to stand my jokes, if she even faintly heard them...”

The details on what happened next were a bit blurry, but as she regained full consciousness, she made a mental note in bold capital letters to bring sunglasses if she ever visited AU #4 again. The light, the noise, all of it was just too much.

But hey, at least she made it, finally! Her first somewhat-successful multiversal shortcut! She was awake, she was safe, she was no longer within the dark stone walls of the castle-

...

Hold up.

Sun on her skin. Fresh air in her lungs. Wind in her hair. The sounds of other people, other humans.

She'd been in Nightmare's castle for four days. Before that, she'd been in the empty Underground for months.

...

The tears started spilling out before she managed to open her eyes.

Chapter Text

”this is such a stupid idea, the plan was to just get her in and back out, we weren't supposed to engage with the mages-”

”it attacked us! c'mon dusty, we're three against one! n' she'll be fine, she's passed out, safe, i'll keep a socket out, alright?”

”...”

”look, the boss doesn't care. we can have some fun while we're here, let out some steam. ya sure look like ya need a good fight.”

”...fine. but we're gone as soon as the rest of 'em show up.”

”gotcha.”

How had she forgotten all this?

She'd forgotten other humans. She'd forgotten birds, clouds, the smell of exhaust gas. The midday sun was still uncomfortably bright, but her teary eyes were slowly starting to get used to it.

She sat on a tiled roof of what was probably a 10-ish story building, giving her a perfect view over an unknown city. The scenery looked as if she had ended up in a part of the old-town, where some historic structures were left in place to serve as a tourist attraction. Actually, now that she thought about it, she did remember Nightmare mentioning something about time travel, but due to the blackouts affecting her short term memory she wasn't able onto grasp to any further details.

A small sting on her arm snapped her out of her thoughts. A small mosquito had landed on her skin, and was beginning to fill its belly with food. Right. She'd forgotten those as well. Out of habit, she slapped a hand on it, killing the small bug instantly.

She looked around. She could see other buildings, smaller wooden houses, a park with trees swaying in the wind, and a bigger forest in the horizon. It was beautiful, so lively, so colorful... Just like she remembered.

*BOOM*

Well, except for that. As if there was any time to get sentimental around these three.

She quickly wiped her eyes dry on the sleeve of her shirt, and carefully approached the edge of the roof by crawling on her hands and knees. Fear of heights? Not today.

She peeked down to the street below her.

…

Oh.

The sight was, terrifyingly so, exactly what she should've expected. She was working with murderers, after all. Had she forgotten that little fact somewhere along the way?

It was like straight out of a horror movie. There were people screaming, frantically running away from a cleared out area, shoving their way past each other in a desperate attempt to get to safety. There was blood everywhere, the street was quite literally painted red. There were humans slowly bleeding to death, clutching wounds on their stomachs, desperately trying to crawl away from the street to inevitably draw their last breath. Some of them were cleanly chopped in half or had their heads missing, and maybe the luckiest ones were merely bloody piles of body parts and guts, not exactly identifiable as humans anymore.

In the middle of the mess, was one of the skeletons, bloody axe hanging heavy against his shoulder. Horror was approaching a small group of humans, and quickly picked up his pace as his soon-to-be victims realized that this was the moment to start running for their lives. No wonder, Horror looked terrifying. The way he had charged at her on that first day was nothing compared to what the few unfortunate humans were faced with now. He wasn't looking for a bite to eat, he was intending to kill.

Dust was a lot harder to find. The blasters he kept summoning told her eyes to keep scanning a certain area further down the road, but no matter where she looked, she could not find a trace of the skeleton himself. It was only when she heard his voice, that she was able to locate him, on the roof of a small nearby house. It was definitely a place that she'd checked before, meaning that he couldn't have been there for long.

”found it, gonna need backup!”

Backup? Dust?

...Where the hell had Nightmare brought them?

Killer was by his side in a blink. They exchanged some words that she was unable to hear, and any lip-reading skills proved to be useless against lipless monsters. Whatever they were talking about however apparently bored Killer enough for him to start throwing knives towards some unfortunate humans that were passing by. Many of which hit, but never enough to kill, at least not instantly. It seemed like she'd found the cause behind the slower, more torturous casualties.

Dust elbowed Killer to get his attention, and not long after they both vanished, teleporting to who knows where. Her eyes were drawn to Horror again, who was catching up to the humans. One of them, a male, probably not much older than her, suddenly stopped and turned, coming face to face with Horror.

He sacrificed himself. He let the others get away. He stood in place, unmoving, as Horror swung his weapon.

It was quick. Painless, as much as getting decapitated by an axe probably could be.

The gasp she breathed in jolted her whole body, and for a brief moment she forgot that she was one wrong move away from falling to her death. The realization came a few seconds after, along with the return of the lightheaded feeling, and she gripped the gutter to ground herself, knuckles white.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit, he just killed someone. She just saw someone die. They were killing people. Humans. Like bugs.

Before the panic managed to take over, she squeezed her eyes shut, reminding herself to breathe.

...

”It is natural to feel like there is a lot to take in during the first few weeks of your training phase. But that is all part of it, to learn how to keep your weaknesses... I mean, these... 'Emotions' of yours, in control. You should not let your secondary traits limit the true power of your soul. It is, after all, what makes you worthy of an important role such as this. And we would not want you to quit due to some insignificant concerns of yours, would we?”

...

No. Her concerns weren't insignificant, they were very much real and justified.

But she refused to quit. She knew what the nature of their work was. There should be no reason to act shocked when finally witnessing the action with her own eyes. Everything was cool, normal, she was all buddy buddy with three serial murderers, no big deal.

Maybe if she told herself that for long enough, she'd eventually start to believe it.

She opened her eyes, and quickly found Dust and Killer further down the road, seemingly having a surprisingly civilized conversation with each other. She couldn't hear any words obviously, but judging by their gestures, neither looked like they were planning on killing one another anytime soon.

Huh. Interesting.

…

”it's hiding in that house, decent at dodging but can't take too many hits.” Dust explained, the fresh EXP crackling pleasantly in his joints.

”k, keep watch, me and h will smoke it out. if ya see it make a noise or somethin', don't just go for the quick n' easy kill, yeah? wanna see how weak its defence really is...” Killer spoke while sorting through a stack of knives, searching for his current favourite one.

Dust scoffed, but silently agreed to Killer's proposition. An opportunity like this wasn't gonna happen everyday after all. It was only a year after the war in this AU, which meant that more mages might be around as well. And even if this one didn't get backup, a human proficient in magic was always dangerous, even when outnumbered three to one. The trio really needed to work together for this. But Killer might've been right for once, it was gonna be a fun one.

The blood-stained hunter joined the two, and the plan was communicated to him as well. Horror would be able to locate the human by smell, and him along with Killer would be enough to block or dodge any incoming attacks. The long distance fighting would be left for Dust.

And the plan was in motion.

...

She zoned out for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. Seeing the trio work together was like watching a well-organized football team. They communicated with each other in a way that seemed impossible outside of a battle scenario. They seemed to have a goal in common, they were backing each other up like old friends, they were good at what they did.

But who were they fighting? She hadn't seen any other monsters so far in this universe, and all humans had fled the scene, smart enough to not attempt to take the three of them on at once. So why was the trio so serious about this? Was there actually no enemy, and this was just some sort of a practice round for them to learn how to work together?

...And where the hell did Killer just disappear to?

…

A sudden thud behind her startled her, causing her to jump an inch closer to the edge of the roof. She quickly scooted backwards to safety, but before managing to turn around, she heard a long groan of pain, followed by an unfamiliar male voice speaking.

”Owww God... What the fuck-, where am I? Wh-... Who the fuck are you?”

It took her a moment to realize that the human was speaking to her. He was maybe in his 30's, neatly dressed in an vintage suit, and the expression on his face was that of pure agony.

Rightfully so. There was a knife jabbed to his right thigh. A glowing red one.

”Excuse my language ma'am, but if you have any idea what in God's name is going on down there, please, please tell me-, oh it hurts like hell...” The man was sitting on the roof, studying the weapon sticking out from his leg, seemingly debating whether pulling it out would make his situation better or worse.

”I...” She started, before giving up on the idea of trying to come up with a normal answer to his question. Hell, she'd only interacted with skeletons for the past, what, few months? Her human to human social skills weren't exactly up to date, especially not in the mess that was currently going on around her, not with the booming sound of more blasters coming from the street below just now.

She finally blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

”Did-... Uh... Did one of the skeletons drop you here by any chance?” Her eyes stayed on his leg, where blood was starting to soak the fabric of his trousers. The knife had to be one of Killer's, there was no other option.

The man decided to leave the weapon in place, and turned to look at her, eyes narrowing.

”Yes, I don't know how, but-...” Slowly, his expression changed into that of disgust. ”Wait a second. Are you the one that he was talking about?” His voice raised, and he stumbled up, mindful to not put weight on his right leg.

”Wait, what? What did he say?” She stood up as well, mirroring his position, suddenly very aware of the rather dangerous situation she found herself in. The pain-contorted expression on the man's face was starting to turn into pure anger.

”You're fucking friends with those maniacs!?” He shouted, pointing at her. ”You're playing a part in this sick little fucking game, trying to be like them, thinking I'm gonna be your first, easy victim, huh!?”

She merely stared at him, confused, speechless. Apparently her lack of a reply did nothing to calm the man down, as he started limping towards her.

No... He wouldn't...

”Cause that's what the freak told me. And you're so, so wrong if you think that's gonna happen. Because what's gonna happen is, I'll give you the fastest way down right back to their arms, you fucking traitor...”

Yes. He would.

Luckily, living with the skeletons meant that her reflexes had gotten good. Very good.

So good, that the man's attempt to push her off the edge never even touched her. He surged forwards right past her, too far gone to stop the momentum, causing him to slip over the edge instead. She didn't dare to look, but by the sound of it, he'd managed to grab a hold of the gutter, leaving him dangling in the air with only a weak piece of metal and his own grip strength to count on.

He screamed in terror for a good while, frantically trying to pull himself back up. After realizing that his attempts were failing, it didn't take long for him to start pleading for help. He tried everything he could to try to convince her that he wouldn't try to pull her down with him if she offered a helping hand. He apologized for what he tried to do, for what he said, telling her that the skeleton must've talked about another human, that this all was just a big misunderstanding.

She told him that she didn't believe him.

After that, the man started shouting again, taking out his rage on her, telling her what a degenerate, selfish murderer she would be if she let him fall, how she would be no better than the monsters destroying the town below them. He told her that he'd fought in the war, and assumed that she'd had a hand in helping the them escape the Underground. He scolded her for betraying the human race and befriending monsters, eventually accusing her of getting involved in interspecies activities, calling her a disgusting monster-fucking whore along with a dozen more synonyms. He told her that she deserved to rot in hell for an eternity.

She didn't reply. She backed off from the edge, and sat on the roof, hugging her knees to her chest with trembling arms.

Eventually, the man started crying. He told her about his family back home. He had a wife and two kids. He told her that he had been on his way to a nearby café with his friends today before two of them were shot, their blood and guts exploding everywhere.

He told her that his grip was slipping.

He told her that he was scared. He told her that he didn't want to die. He called out to her, he called out to his God. He begged for mercy.

…

She didn't want to fight.

She didn't want to kill.

She wasn't a murderer.

...

But trying to spare his life would only lead to the death of both.

”h, behind ya!”

Horror did a quick 180 turn before raising his axe, just in time to block a stream of glowing yellow crystals, the blade reflecting them back to burn holes into the wall of a nearby building, making it look like a block of swiss cheese.

”dust, three o'clock!”

”on it.”

Dust's blaster summoned and aimed towards the human mage responsible for the stream of magic attacks. After a brief charge, the burst of light shot out, disintegrating an unfortunate dumpster that happened to be in the wrong place.

The human had dodged. Another blaster summoned, and they did it again, once, twice...

The fourth one hit.

But it didn't kill.

The human collapsed to the ground with a painful-sounding wail, immediately going for the first healing item that they could get their hands on. It barely managed to reach their mouth, before they had to roll out of the way of a knife hitting the ground next to them, followed by a dozen more, eventually forcing them to a dead end against a wall.

Killer was in front of them in a blink. He effortlessly picked the human up by their collar and pushed them against the wall, bringing the sharp edge of his knife right against their throat, cutting the skin just slightly. Determination was leaking down from his sockets in a steady stream, and he was fighting the urge to push the blade deeper and savour the new EXP.

”heh, dyin' to get one step ahead of us, huh?” Killer spoke slightly out of breath. ”welp, too late now. any last words?”

The human's weak attempt of another magic attack was cut short by Killer bashing their head against the brick wall behind them. He let go, causing their body to drop to the ground, not quite unconscious but judging by the grimace on their face, they might've wished they were.

”wanna have this one, big guy? a lil 'thank you' for the good times?” Killer suggested to Horror who'd caught up with them. He stepped closer, casting a shadow over the trembling form on the ground.

After a bloody cough, the human spoke.

”I don't know how... You got – *cough* – out... But the rest of you... Will stay down there. Forever.”

Killer groaned in frustration, before swinging his leg to kick the human in the ribs, hard. The loud telltale crack of bones breaking and the gasp of pure agony worked to slightly quiet the desire for EXP burning through him.

”that's a shitty choice of last words if i've ever heard one, and i've heard a lot.” Killer spat out, patting Horror's shoulder. ”see, my buddy here is a tiny bit more merciful than i am, he might even chop your head clean off if ya asked nicely, ya wouldn't feel a thing. doesn't that sound nice?”

”...might.” Horror added, grin unhinged and gaze locked to his victim. Killer chuckled and gave another approving pat to Horror in response.

The human groaned in pain, their voice growing weaker with each word.

”The others – *cough* – will be here soon. They'll kill you... Your whole race will go... Extinct...”

Horror took a step closer, adjusting his hold on his axe in preparation. His victim tried escaping, but due to every movement causing agonizing pain to their ribs, they were forced to merely crawl on the ground pathetically, as the axe-wielding skeleton steadily followed behind them in a world's slowest game of catch.

It was hilarious.

Suddenly, a scream from somewhere nearby caught Killer's attention. It was too distant and quiet to interest the others, but oh, he knew what the source was, what he'd been buying time for this entire mission. He knew that she had managed to stay somewhat awake during the travel to this universe, but he'd had to wait for a good while for her to recover. And sure, the candidate Killer had chosen was never gonna have a fair chance, but she still got the job done quicker than expected. Colour him impressed.

The sound lasted for a good while, travelling down, down, towards the ground...

Before it fell silent.

...

”h, it's all yours, have fun. i'll be back in a few.”

She didn't mean to.

She never wanted to.

It was only for self-defence.

Yet, she could feel it, deep in her soul. The guilt, that came from causing the death of someone. She'd done something irreversible, something permanent. If only she could go back in time, to undo it all, to make a different choice and be able to save him, to let him live...

She tried to...

...

But she couldn't. Not anymore.

Distantly, she could feel the heat of a familiar magic behind her. Her already sensitive soul felt like it was gonna explode from the intrusive gaze peering right into it.

”level two, huh? little kitty's grown some claws...”

She could barely hear the voice behind her, but it couldn't have been more obvious who it belonged to. She was still sitting on the roof with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, borderline hyperventilating, her entire body trembling in reaction to the pain inside her. Tears were gathering in her eyes, and her head was starting to feel dizzy from the lack of carbon dioxide.

”ya 'right?” Killer spoke, stepping closer to her. ”hp looks good, can't see any damage...”

Eventually, through the shock, the cogs started to finally turn in her brain.

The red knife. The hate and anger that had been ignited inside the man, how he decided to attack her without thinking twice about it. '...Your first, easy victim...'

”Y-you...” She stuttered through her sobs. ”You tricked me into this...”

Killer sighed, stacking the knife in his hand away for now.

”well... i might've given ya a little push in the right direction...” He spoke, sitting down next to her. ”but ya did the dirty work ya self. boss wasn't kiddin' about the dt ya got in there.”

She couldn't even begin to try to analyze what the hell he was hinting at. Was this an effort to comfort her? If yes, it wasn't working very well.

She only cried harder, her head dropping against her knees.

...

Killer cleared his non-existant throat, and glanced at the mess of a human beside him. Distantly, he could hear the faint cries of pain coming from the mage having a real bad time with Horror. Or Dust. Maybe both.

”don't worry, it's your first time. you'll get used to it.” Killer voice was distant, the words the only sense of comfort he had to offer. ”b'sides, if it makes ya feel better, the guy did say some pretty nasty stuff about your bonefriend, dude was a racist asshole to begin with...”

Killer's words trailed off as the human only curled on herself tighter. Hell, just a couple of nights ago he'd wanted to make her cry (though, in different circumstances), so why was he now so interested in making her stop? His job was just to set her up for the first kill, not to deal with the aftermath, there was no reason for him to even bother with this...

After a long moment of hesitation, Killer placed a hand on her shoulder in another weak attempt of comfort.

...Bad idea.

As if a trigger had been pulled, she leaned against his touch for a split second, before her body gravitated towards him like a magnet, close, real close, too close, her arms wrapping around him, head on his shoulder, chest pressing right against his-

Killer quickly pushed a hand between their bodies and shoved her chest away from his ribs, giving him some much needed metaphorical breathing space. Her hands only grabbed tighter onto his shoulders, arms, anywhere she could reach, refusing to let go despite her attempt of a hug being restricted by Killer firmly holding her in place at an arm's length. Either she was unable to register the violation of personal space, or was just too far gone to care about being rejected. Her head fell onto his arm between them, her tears soaking the sleeve of his hoodie.

Any witty comments Killer worked hard to come up with never saw the light of day. This was worse than the first time, back when he'd saved her from Horror's attack. The contact now had lasted only for a second or two, but even that was enough to make his soul flutter, recover, twist and throb out of shape again, before finally settling back into the more comfortable, dull hum, that could only be sated with violence.

How could she not see it? He was a killer, not someone to cling to for safety, for fuck's sake...

After a few moments of awkward silence from his part, Killer was able to pull her up and maneuver her body from his front against his side instead. She continued desperately clinging to his arm like a lifeline, as he teleported both of them back down to the street.

...

Oh, right. Ew. Gross.

Fortunately she didn't bother lifting her gaze to see the mess that they were greeted with. She would've probably thrown up her lunch before passing out yet again.

”dust, take your human, she's spikin'.”

Killer practically tore her off of him, and tossed her over to Dust. He was covered in blood and dust (probably his own), but she latched onto him regardless, burying her face in his hoodie, finally getting the proper hug that she'd been craving for.

Well, kind of. It wasn't like Dust was returning the gesture. Every joint in his body locked up, and the bone attacks aimed at the half-alive, half-gutted human on the ground froze mid-air. He processed Killer's words with a delay, but when they clicked, the already irritated magic in him flamed, his eyelights extinguishing in realization.

”w h a t .”

”ya heard me. we're done here.” Killer replied nonchalantly, directing his attention to Horror, who was busy driving the blade of his axe into the human's ankle. ”h, finish that thing off, it has seen too much. don't want it to spread the word 'round.”

Horror growled in response. Seemed like he would be spending the next few hours locked up in his room again, as he'd apparently gotten too high on blood and EXP to think straight or follow any orders anymore.

”ooor ya could just get rid of the vocal chords, that's fine too-”

*BOOM*

The shockwave caused all four of them to fly back a few feet, the bloody remains of the human splattering across the wall. Dust had finally wrapped a tense protective arm around the trembling, scared human against him, but the lights in his eyes hadn't returned.

”k, that's one way to end things...” Killer muttered while standing back up, brushing some gravel off his clothes. ”boss, take us back. mission successful.”

Chapter Text

Hugging Dust during the trip back had been like trying to hug a wall. The sharp crackle of his magic should've felt familiar and safe, comforting... But it hadn't. It had felt as cold as the void around them. He refused to meet her eyes, and his hand around her waist had only done the bare minimum to keep her away from danger, much like Killer's during all those failed shortcut attempts.

In addition to that, Dust let go of her as soon as they returned back to the castle, vanishing a second later without a single word. She dropped to the floor on her knees, yet again abandoned, left to deal with another day's worth of trauma all by herself.

”Whatever happened to wiping your shoes before entering!? This carpet was brought here LAST WEEK.”

Oh, great.

She half-paid attention to Killer and Nightmare arguing about blood-stain removal strategies, the topic absurd enough to work as a decent distraction from the mess that was going on in her head. At least for a moment. As their (very important) conversation continued in the background, she heard some shuffling next to her, before a hand grabbed her chin. A big one. It tilted her head up gently, forcing her teary eyes to meet a glowing red one, inches away from her face. It merely stared at her, pulsing and scanning her face, and for a moment it almost felt warm, comforting, exactly what she needed...

But as the memories loaded in, the panic reflex kicked in again. Her eyes widened, as suddenly all she could see in front of her was the axe murderer. The weapon was lying on the floor beside him. This time, she had seen him use it. She remembered a human with their head missing, his clothes were stained with blood, he had...

Oh no... No... Nononono...

”HORROR. Back off.”

She scrambled backwards on the floor, but unfortunately the monster followed, crawling towards her, never giving her a chance to get away. As if on cue, black tentacles shot out from the walls and quickly wrapped around him, trapping his arms against his ribcage, restricting his attempt to move closer. She was unable to look away as the giant skeleton fought back, growling, trashing against the hold, nearly succeeding in freeing himself. He was strong. And he was dangerous again. If those tentacles failed to hold him back, she'd likely be dead in seconds.

She barely registered Killer grabbing her from behind and pulling her back away from the monster in front of her. He then went to Horror, snapping his phalanges a few times in front of his face.

”h, c'mon, snap out of it, she's not food, remember?” He tried getting Horror's attention.

”i know.” Horror growled, his eye never leaving her. ”but she... she needs...”

Killer placed his hands on Horror's shoulders in an attempt to ground him, and spoke close to his face, lowering his voice slightly.

”yeah i know, she needs a hug or some shit. but not from you, look at her, she's scared shitless of ya right now.”

Horror's movements froze, as he re-focused his gaze on the trembling form on the ground, and the watery eyes staring up at him, wide and full of fear. She was pressing her back against the wall, her entire being was practically screaming at him to go away. Horror was unable to reply as he merely stared at her, hands twitching, fighting the urge to try to pull himself free, not giving any reaction to Killer shaking his shoulders in an attempt to get his attention.

”yeaah, you're still off in la-la land... listen, boss will take ya to your room, there's food in there, i'll come check on ya in a few hours, alright?” Killer spoke, nodding a confirmation to Nightmare.

She couldn't watch as Horror was carried away. He went quietly, never protesting the decision. But as the sudden wave of pain reached her, she could feel it, wordlessly communicated; Horror hadn't intended to hurt her. The big and scary murderer had only tried to help. She had seen it in his expression right before the fear had clouded her senses, before the primal survival instinct had shattered what almost could've been... Something.

It was all just too much. She almost wished that she'd passed out during the trip back again to have a moment of peace, to not have to deal with any of this just yet.

But even that was too much to ask for, it seemed.

”boss will wanna talk to ya in a minute. need a ride to the office?”

Another fake hug? No thanks.

Her voice broke when trying to speak, expectedly. She cleared her throat briefly, before managing to get the words out.

”I'll walk, thanks.”

She finally got a hug.

It was probably the world's weirdest one. But it was better than nothing.

Nightmare had offered. She had wordlessly taken the opportunity. The tentacle was warm and squishy, and the only thing that didn't make it feel gross was the fact that the black slime didn't actually stick to her, it just kinda melted off from wherever it touched. The thick root of the appendage was originating from the floor, and the rest of it was supporting her weight like a floating body pillow. She was quite literally straddling it, arms and legs wrapped around, her face pressed against the moist surface as she sobbed out whatever was left of her panic attack.

”And, uh... How long do you need this 'treatment' for exactly..?” Nightmare spoke, the awkward tension in his voice palpable.

She was only able to shrug. What else was she supposed to react with? At this moment, she'd given up on the idea of trying to suck up to him any longer. If that was gonna get her killed then so be it.

Apart from giving her some time to cry her eyes out, it was safe to say that the God of Negativity wasn't exactly the best with human emotions. But at the moment, it seemed like he was the best option out of four bad ones. Killer had straight up rejected her, Horror seemed to be in a very unstable state and may or may not accidentally kill her, and Dust had literally vanished out of existance as soon as it was physically possible.

Why had he left? Was it because she had killed someone? Was it because she'd now gained LV, the exact attribute that Dust seemed to hate about himself? Did that mean that Dust now hated her too?

As the thought triggered another round of sobs, she nuzzled back into the slimy tentacle, the presence of a somewhat alive-feeling thing under her giving a slight bit of comfort. Like, the sliiightest, if you took it under a magnifying glass.

Maybe she was a murderer. Maybe that was all that she was good for. Maybe she was everything that the man had called her, maybe she deserved each and every single horrible thing that he had threatened her with.

...

Eventually she ran out of tears to cry. All that was left was a cold numbness. Still, having something physical to cling to was helping somewhat. Or, well, maybe it was more for the fact that making Nightmare feel uncomfortable about this situation felt like a small form of revenge. Best to not think about that too loud though, in case his mind reading abilities are anything like Dust's.

”hooly shit, is she ridin' that thing or somethin'?”

...Oh fuck no.

If her face hadn't already been pressed against the tentacle, she would've dramatically dropped her head down in response. From the sound of it, Killer had joined them in the office and apparently found the whole situation hilarious.

”Quiet. If you happen to have any knowledge on how to better deal with human LV-spikes, I will GLADLY take it.” Nightmare's voice echoed, the frustration in his voice evident now.

”suuure ya would...” Killer giggled. ”heh, hell if i know, usually they just go right for the next one...”

He moved closer to the tentacle / now body pillow, tilting his skull curiously.

”comfy?”

She groaned in frustration, and lifted head enough to try to flick some slime that had gathered on her hand towards Killer. It didn't hit, obviously, he dodged it with little effort, chuckling in amusement. She cleared her throat and was just about to attempt to possibly tell either or both of them to fuck off, when something caught her eye, and subsequently her whole attention.

In the middle of the office, behind the huge darkwood desk, was a face. Well, not just a face, a whole body. Black as the night, black as the tentacle she was lying on. There was a bright blue light shining in a black... Socket?

The all black, goo-dripping creature was drinking a cup of tea.

What. The fuck.

”Is-... Is that...” She stuttered, staring at what she assumed was Nightmare's physical form. How long had he been there? And more importantly, did this idiot summon himself just to be able to drink some tea? Somehow, weirdly, it made perfect sense, considering who she was faced with.

It was barely visible, but Nightmare's grin twitched up slightly. He never turned his gaze towards her, but it was as if he could sense something in her voice, something that was making him way too smug for her liking.

Oh. Oh hell no, she refused to give him that satisfaction.

Maybe it wasn't the first thing that came to her mind when seeing him, but it was certainly the one she decided to voice out loud. She'd already been prepared for the worst anyways, so why not...

”You're shorter than I thought.”

It had the desired effect. Nightmare nearly choked on his tea.

”pffft-” Killer worked hard to hide his urge to burst into laughter, eventually failing after a couple of seconds, cackling like it was the funniest thing he'd heard it years. Hell, maybe it was. Even she allowed herself to feel proud of it, so much so that she chose to not swat Killer's hand away and instead went for the fistbump that he offered.

”Right, I think your time up here is over.” Nightmare spoke, his voice carrying a poorly disguised hint of annoyance as he lowered his tentacle to allow her to slide off of it back onto the ground. She couldn't help but giggle internally as he also decided to leave the half-finished cup of tea on the table and vanish out of sight again.

Poor thing got embarrassed...

...

”So, Killer, the details.”

Killer took a while to compose himself, before plopping on a couch opposite to the desk and resting his still blood stained sneakers on the cushions. She could hear Nightmare sigh in frustration somewhere, though this time he apparently decided against going through another round of arguing about maid duties.

Killer yawned and stretched his arms, before folding them behind his skull.

”one mage down, a bunch of other humans as well, they'll double the barrier strength after this one for sure...” Killer nodded towards her. ”...n' got her leveled up like ya asked, already worked wonders for her shortcut tolerance too.”

Nightmare hummed in approval.

”Hmm, I noticed, just like we assumed... And, how exactly did she acquire her first excecution points?”

Ouch. Gosh, could he just use the acronym like everyone else?

”she pushed some idiot off a roof.” Killer replied with a knowing (proud?) smile on his face.

”It was an accident.” She quickly added.

Killer huffed out a laugh, and shook his skull, his grin twitching.

”nobody gets to level two on accident.”

”Well I did!” She insisted, her voice growing desperate. ”He appeared out of nowhere and was real mad about something...” She glared at the skeleton on the couch. ”...And it wasn't like I meant to push him off, he just-... He tried to attack me, so I dodged and-... He fell and, I guess I could've helped, but he would've definitely tried something and-”

”Ah.” Nightmare interrupted, his voice now closer. ”You see, you do not need to 'fight' in order to kill, not showing 'mercy' when asked to do so is just as effective, perhaps sometimes even more so. Is this what you are referring to?”

”No!” She screamed, before the words registered. ”I mean yes, I guess, but-... That makes no sense, I-... I didn't mean to...” Her words trailed off, another tearless sob forcing its way out of her body. ”I never meant to kill him...”

Killer and Nightmare went quiet as she started trembling again.

Screw this. If she wasn't gonna receive any form of comfort, she'd rather get out of here and isolate herself, try to go through this alone. It seemed like it was the only available option left.

She was just about to storm out of the office, before Nightmare beat her to it.

”Killer, take her to her room to recover. We will continue the discussion about the next phase of her training when she has gotten over her spike.”

Spike this, spike that, levels, exp, these were normal emotions, not something to be labeled like stats in a fucking game...

She refused the offer of another shortcut, so Killer was forced to escort her to her room ”manually”. Both of them probably found the situation equally awkward, but since Killer was the most talkative of the four, she decided to make use of the walk down the hall.

Her voice carried a hint of bitterness, as she blurted out the question that bothered her the most.

”Where's Dust?”

Killer glanced at her briefly, before shrugging.

”dunno. probably spiked bad after the mage and decided to go take it out on somethin' other than you this time.” He replied, tone uncharacteristically flat.

She processed the info for a moment. Right, Killer obviously knew that Dust's previous mission had led to him fucking the brains out of her in the middle of the night. Fortunately Killer had apparently learned the bare minimum amount of manners at some point and didn't press the subject further this time, since in a state like this she'd probably slap him across the cheekbone if he tried.

There was something that caught her attention in his wording though.

”What's a mage?”

”a human with magic.” Killer replied. ”they only exist in timelines as old as the one we went to.”

Yeah, she had a feeling about the time travel...

”And why did you kill them?”

You, as in plural. It was easier to think about. She'd of course heard (and felt) Dust's blaster go off as she had been one-sidedly hugging him. Not only that, but she'd also felt the rush it gave him afterwards, sparks of magic radiating from his bones, which meant that he'd literally killed someone right behind her back as she'd been trying to cling to him for comfort. It was a thought that she didn't want to dwell on too much for now.

Killer was quiet for a moment, his grin stretching wider.

”...long story.”

Alright, that's a subject to back off from. Maybe she'd ask Dust later.

Would Dust give her an answer? Probably not.

They passed by Horror's door, which seemed to be trapped shut from the outside with some of Nightmare's black goop, kinda like glue, sealing the hinges in place. She really doubted whether it would be enough to keep him locked in though, she'd seen a glimpse of the raw physical strength that he possessed, surely he could just tear through the wood if he so chose...

Her eyes lingered on the door for a good few seconds, before continuing down the hall.

”And... Why did you kill normal humans? Did they try to attack you or something?”

The ones that Horror had gone after definitely hadn't...

”nah.” Killer replied. ”just for exp. the high makes ya fight better.”

Ah. Of course. At least Killer was being honest about it.

Just for EXP.

Human lives. For points. Levels. Just like in a game.

Was this what Nightmare wanted from her? To sacrifice real people, real humans and monsters, for her to stop caring, to stop feeling-

”hey.” Killer stopped her by grabbing her arm as she nearly walked past the door to her room. ”try to not think about it too much, k? it's easier if ya don't.”

She sighed before opening the door and stepping in, but hesitating to close the door behind her just yet. She rubbed at the dried tears on her cheeks and decided to vent to Killer for a few more moments, if only to waste his time for a bit.

”It's kinda hard not to. I'm not like you, you know, I've still got all these 'emotions' that Nightmare so badly wants to get rid of. I'm not a 'killer', I don't have a murder-nickname like you all do, I'm just a human who for some reason is important enough to be trained to work alongside you guys...”

She paused to let out a sigh.

”I just don't get it.”

She brought her hands back down, only to be faced with a suspiciously excited grin on Killer's face.

Oh no. What now.

”...oh, you'll definitely get one.” He spoke low, his expression beaming.

Fuck's sake. It was supposed to be a joke. But Killer apparently did not take it as one.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, before shutting the door on him.

Killer froze while standing in the hallway and staring at her door, slightly dumbstruck from the opportunity that he'd just been presented.

Why didn't he think of that sooner? Of course she needed a name! That's one of the first things to do to get started, that's how she will be able to distance herself and leave whatever is left of the memories of her previous life behind, it will help her to become more like...

More like...

...

Him?

More like me =)

Either way, she's a lot of fun. The LV really suits her too.

And, heh...

...

She's pretty hot when she's mad.

Chapter Text

*Knock, knock, knock*

…

Apparently the expensive ass bed in her room was not only good for napping. It was also excellent for dry-crying herself to sleep.

How long had it been? Considering the emptiness in her stomach and feeling like a mess in general, it must've been a few hours since she'd curled against the bedsheets and finally gave up on the idea of being able to receive any sort of emotional support in the near future. If it wasn't for the knock on her door just now, she might've come to the conclusion that each and every skeleton was more or less avoiding her now. Most certainly an unexpected turn of events.

”Yeah?” She rasped out before being forced to clear her throat, not exactly surprised of the condition of her voice after a three hour nap and probable mild dehydration.

...

There was no answer.

She threw the blankets aside, checking the state of her clothes quickly to avoid any accidental wardrobe malfunctions, and oh, there's someone's blood from Dust's hoodie staining her shirt as well, lovely...

She got up and went to the door, creaking it open.

...

Still nobody.

Did an 'LV-spike' come with hallucinations as well? Or was this Killer trying to pull a hilarious prank on her? She was just about to call him out on it, before her eyes landed on something on the floor beside her door. Her sense of smell followed soon after, being very pleased with the finding.

Left on the ground was a bowl, filled with what seemed to be the monster food equivalent of comfort noodles.

...

Oh.

Horror, you angel.

”you're okay. just breathe. we have you. you have us. it's gonna be alright.”

…

After only a few mouthfuls, she was starting to feel better. Like, significantly. The meal had the exact effect that she'd been looking for earlier with that good, long hug that she failed to get. It was as if words of affirmation were whispered straight into the bowl, making their way to her consciousness through her tastebuds. Who knew that noodles could work as a perfect substitute for one on one emotional support?

The meal also restored her energy enough to be able to ditch the blood-stained shirt to be washed and change into a set of clean clothes. During the process she managed to get halfway through her meal, before there was another triple-knock on her door.

And this one sounded more familiar.

...Dust?

Her mouth was full of noodles, but she mumbled out a sound that could've been interpreted as a consent to enter.

But again, there was no answer.

She set the plate aside, balancing it carefully on the mattress (since it wasn't like there was any space for a table in her room), before going up to the door again. She opened it, and this time was met with a skeleton whose face was yet again barely visible from the darkness of his hood. He was leaning against the opposite wall of the hallway, hands stuck in his pockets, and what she could see of his face, he seemed to be very interested in the pattern of the carpet beneath him.

But all that aside, she couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief. At least his disappearance had been a brief one this time. Despite her mood being somewhat lifted by the food, the sight of her favourite skeleton – she really should tell that to him sometime – quickly awoke her craving for physical touch yet again. She almost went for the hug, but another quick look at his not-exactly-welcoming body language suggested that it might be better to resist the urge for now.

”Uh... Hi?” She began, voice more timid than what she was going for. She gestured to the half open door behind her. ”Wanna come in?”

Dust only replied by giving the rug on the floor a barely noticable shake of his skull.

Alright, hallway therapy time then, she could manage...

Was this about the spike? His or hers? Maybe Killer was right, Dust had spiked, and considering what happened last time, maybe this was another case of-...

Oh...

She definitely wouldn't mind...

”Do you... Need something?” She asked hesitantly.

Okay, it definitely wasn't the sexiest way to bring it up, especially looking and feeling like the mess that she currently was. But the words were all that were needed, as Dust scoffed in reaction, shaking his skull again. It seemed that he understood exactly what she was referring to.

His skull finally lifted up enough to look at her. Briefly, his eyelights flicked to her chest, before returning to meet her eyes. His voice was ice cold as he spoke out the question.

”can i check you?”

She blinked.

”What do you mean?” She tried her best to keep the eye contact, despite finding the piercing lights peeking under his hood suddenly very uncomfortable to look at.

Said eyelights just rolled in their sockets in reaction.

”just wanna check the condition of your soul.” He spat out. ”need to know if killer's fuckin' with me or not.”

The way he punctuated the word made a chill run down her spine. Apparently he was not looking for physical contact this time. She nodded wordlessly in confirmation, despite not knowing what exactly she was agreeing to.

Dust's gaze dropped to the middle of her chest again, and the lights in his sockets sharpened their focus. After a few seconds, she could see the smallest flinch on his face before his expression took on a tired grin, his posture relaxing slightly. He sighed, blinking slowly, before muttering mostly to himself.

”yeah, course ya did...”

He gazed at her chest with a faraway expression for a good moment. Eventually he spoke again, this time clearly addressing the words to her.

”so, how was your mission?”

The return of the casual, uninterested tone of his voice was terrifying.

”Uh... Didn't Killer tell you?” She countered. She really didn't feel like saying it out loud again. Talking about this with Nightmare had been no problem... This, however, was different.

”he's not tellin' me the truth. but you will.” Dust stated, never taking his eyelights off her chest.

Her sternum.

Her...

(don't think about it, just answer the-)

Suddenly it clicked.

Dust was looking at her soul. He had to be, right? 'Checking' her, seeing the LV she'd now gained, trying to determine whether she was telling the truth, he could see everything that she was in her core, her being at its most vulnerable state...

Holy shit. The thought was suddenly almost... Scary. What if he found something he didn't like? It obviously wasn't the first time he'd done it, but she had now changed. Permanently. What if he really did hate her now?

(i don't.)

No... She knew that Dust wouldn't hurt her. Not on purpose. The check wasn't hurting her, in fact it didn't feel like anything at all. She would be able to tell him the truth, and he would listen. She was safe.

She trusted him, always, she cared about him, she would never, ever leave him, she would give her everything to him, she-

”stop. thinking.” Dust suddenly spoke, his voice dropped to a growl. He shut his sockets and took a few breaths to calm himself, before continuing with his usual monotone. ”just... answer the question.”

...

Her mind went blank in reaction to the sudden shift in his tone, leaving whatever thought process she'd been on unfinished. She stared at him in shock for a few moments, before the second half of the command finally registered. And this was not the moment to leave him hanging.

She took a deep breath in preparation.

And told him everything.

* Y/N.

LV 2. Max HP up since the last time he checked, a side effect from the LV-gain.

But more importantly, whatever ”she's just a natural born murderer” or ”ya know how the determined souls are” -bullshit Killer had been trying to rile Dust up with was now being replaced with her side of the story. And, of course, what she was telling him was the truth, as honest and genuine as it could get. Every little detail of her story got the green light, matching with the feelings of shame, guilt and fear resonating from her. It really had been an accident.

Unfortunately.

It would've been easier if she just lied. Or better yet, she could've been waiting all this time for the right opportunity, to find an opponent weak enough to release the built up DT on. She could've had the natural craving for power, the urge to turn the blood and dust on her hands into a resource of ever growing numbers, just like all the other determined souls he knew.

But, of course she ”hadn't meant to”. Despite being determined, probably more than was healthy for a human, the integrity and kindness in her soul were still very much alive and active, just as strong as he'd come to expect from her. She hadn't crossed over the point of no return. Yet. Therefore, Dust was left unable blame her. No matter how he wished for one, he just couldn't find a single valid reason to distance himself, to be able to let go, to get rid of his distorted feelings of care, attachment, desire for her... And many others he refused to name.

”...Can I please hug you?”

He heard the words, spoken weak and fragile, but the rejection that he planned to respond with verbally, accidentally came out as intent instead. So much for distancing himself apparently.

But, could he really blame himself? It wasn't his fault that her soul was rather distracting to look at...

Dust's check was forced to break as her body was suddenly against him, half-exposed soul shining bright against his unfixable one, trying its best to absorb something that it would never get from him.

...

But... He would be lying if he said it didn't feel good.

To be wanted. Needed. Trusted.

He sighed deep, a sound born of pure fatigue, as he gave up fighting for now, and allowed his arms to wrap around her. He pressed her body close against his ribcage, letting his skull drop down to nuzzle the top of her head.

And stars, it was easy to enjoy this. It was always too much. Too close, too warm, too soft...

Yet, he seemed to not be able to get enough.

Dust's hands travelled to her waist, sneaking under her shirt to feel the softness of her skin underneath. He barely got a moment to think about his next course of actions, before his hands were already tightening their grip on her, sharp tips of his phalanges digging into the skin. She let out a gasp against him, sounding like a very... Pleased one? Hopefully as a reaction to his touch.

But how would he know? All he knew was that for some reason, she kept coming back for more.

More of this. More of him.

And fuck... It was addicting. As was the feeling of her hands wandering at the back of his ribs, the rise and fall of her chest matching the rhythm of his own deepening breaths, and the – (yess, right there-) – fingers brushing softly against his vertebrae...

She hadn't been wrong. He did want to. It was the only way he knew how to get more of what she was offering him. He always wanted everything she could give, and if he was selfish enough, he could take have all that right now, just like last time, and all the ones before...

He could have his quick, easy fix once again, that small moment of quiet...

...

No...

They're both spiking. She's going through this for the first time, that's what's making her so... Touchy.

He was still lucid enough to back off. And he should.

…

Dust softened his grip on her waist, rubbing at the small dents that the tips of his phalanges had left, as if trying to physically undo the consequences of his impulsive behavior yet again. Or, maybe it was more metaphorical than that, a futile attempt to reverse everything that he'd dragged her through. He should've never told her what happened to his Underground. He should've never touched her for the first time. He shouldn't have gone back for more. He definitely shouldn't have brought her in the castle with him.

There was no way to reverse time. Not without a reset.

But he would find a way to fix it. He just needed some time.

”...m' not gonna let you turn out like me.” Dust murmured into her hair. Accidentally audible, considering the way her breathing stuttered, before she lifted her gaze to look up at him. Her eyes were watery. Had he read her wrong? Did she not want to be touched?

He stilled his hands, just in case.

”I'm not gonna. It's not like I want to keep killing people or anything.” She spoke, words half-whispered.

Dust stared down at her, a slow, tired smile spreading on his face. He released his hand from her waist to stroke his phalanges gently against her cheek.

”you think i do?”

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to reply... But the words never came out. She averted her gaze, breaking the brief eye contact.

Sure, Dust could try to explain himself, that what he did was not born out of desire. It was a necessity, a coping mechanism. A routine, by now. But none of that really mattered, in the end he would always be a murderer in her eyes. And, well, not that she was wrong about that, he'd proven his true nature to her enough times by now. And eventually she'd learn to finally recognize what was best for her.

She had to, eventually, right?

Dust sighed, and adjusted the hem of her shirt back down to cover the skin that he'd left exposed, before leaning back against the wall. She took the hint, and stepped back to put some distance in between them again.

”go get some sleep, yeah? might be a rough day for ya tomorrow.” Dust sighed, before gently nudging her back towards her room. The least he could do for now was to make sure she was at least getting some rest without any... Distractions. Surely he could come up with a healthier outlet for himself as well.

Maybe just one last glance before she leaves though...

…

”Yeah, probably. I'll see you later.”

”And uh... Thank you. For listening to me.”

”Hope you'll sleep well. Remember to eat something too.”

...

”...And hey, you can uh... Visit, if you'd like. If you're having those nightmares again or... Anything. I don't really care what the boss has to say about it.”

”I mean, I called him short today and all he did was get a little grumpy about it. I'm starting to think he's all bark and no bite.”

”So like... I'm here for you. Anytime. Okay?”

...

”Dust?”

* Yours, yours, yours, yours, yours, yours,
yours, yours, yours, yours, yours, yours,

”...yeah. okay.”

[EXIT]

Chapter Text

”You can think of it as self-defence, if that eases your mind. I've read that humans sometimes do that for... Fun?”

Sure, martial arts are indeed a popular activity in human culture. And maybe there was a chance that she could learn to treat this new 'training plan' of hers as merely a hobby. For now.

But Nightmare, my dude, nobody defends themselves efficiently with a flimsy plastic knife.

...

The practice room was huge. Bigger than Nightmare's office, surprisingly. Compared to the rest of the castle, the walls were made of some kind of (probably magically) reinforced metal, obviously designed to withstand attacks far stronger than the plastic toy she kept challenging their structural integrity with.

Like, it didn't even stick to any of the targets that Killer had set up for her. It either bounced right off before dropping sadly to the floor, or barely managed to knock over some bottles if she threw it hard enough. If she was able to land a hit in the first place, that was.

And judging by Killer's poorly hidden giggling, this was either 100% his idea, or just something that he was forced to go along with and just decided to sit back and get some laughs out of it. Or, more likely, to get a show watching her get all breathless and sweaty like one of those scantily glad music video girls on exercise bikes. The look on his face suggested that he definitely didn't mind when she was forced to replace her sweater for a tank top in order to continue without passing out from heat stroke.

(Actually, it wouldn't surprise her if he decided to find out how to access the air conditioning, just to be able to turn it off completely for the rest of the session. Just because he could.)

But Nightmare wasn't exactly wrong with his statement. In the end, having something vaguely productive to do and getting some physical exercise in was kind of fun. As long as she focused on thinking of it as a hobby, just something to get her blood pumping and her mind active, it was quite easy to enjoy the challenge. And despite the obvious subtle flirting – a suggestive comment here and there, gaze lingering for a bit too long – Killer seemed to be taking his role as a personal trainer quite seriously.

...

She was two hours into her first session, currently releasing her energy onto a plain white mattress riddled with small knife-wide holes and slices, that had been placed to lean against the wall in front of her.

Eyes on the target, feet grounded, core tight, draw back aaand...

*Stab*

”aim higher. more elbow.” Killer's adviced as he circled around her, analyzing her form.

*Stab*

None of the holes in the mattress were her doing. The plastic knife wasn't able to even leave a visible dent in the fabric.

*Stab*

”yeah yeah, keep goin'...”

But if Killer was frustrated with her inability to puncture a hole after a hundred or more attempts, he definitely didn't let it show. Instead, he studied every small movement of hers with intrigue, offering tips or words of encouragement whenever her motivation or confidence started visibly dropping.

*Stab*

”try goin' across.” He suggested.

She took a breath and readjusted her leg position slightly, before swinging the weapon again, this time cutting a straight line down from the upper left corner. And maybe all the dull stabbing she'd been doing had broken the toy knife, since it finally did a small amount of ”damage” to the mattress, leaving a shallow, diagonal scratch on the fabric.

”yeah! that's it!” Killer exclaimed, almost jumping up in excitement. ”do that again.”

She repeated the action as best she could, attacking the mattress now with slashes rather than stabs. Horizontal, vertical, diagonal... And yeah, she definitely must've broken the knife, since each hit now scraped the surface enough to leave small, but visible proof of her attacks.

She went for one, two, three more swings... Before she had to stop to take a break. She leaned her hands on her knees, breathing heavily, somewhat aware of Killer stepping forward to examine the damage that she'd done to the mattress. Once she was convinced that she wouldn't pass out from oxygen deprivation, she walked over to her bag to grab a bottle of water to make up for all the sweating she was doing.

”yeaah, your technique ain't half bad...” Killer muttered, tracing his hand over the little scratches she'd made. He then turned towards her, tilting his skull curiously. ”what's your intention?”

She glanced at Killer from behind her bottle, raising an eyebrow. After a few more gulps, she lowered the bottle and screwed the cap back on.

”What do you mean?”

Killer shrugged.

”well, it's hard to do any damage with that thing...” He nodded towards the toy knife in her hand. ”so, like... whatcha thinkin' about when swingin'? someone on your mind ya wanna do that to?”

Oh. Right. There goes the fun 'I'm just getting a good workout while gaining some self-defence skills' -aspect of this again.

”Nah.” She tried to reply as casually as possible, studying the knife in her hand. ”I think I just broke this and there's a cracked piece of plastic in here that's scratching the fabric...” – There had to be, right? – ”Uh... Somewhere...”

After a few moments of turning the knife around in her hand in awkward silence, she was forced to admit it. The weapon was intact, just as dull and smooth around the edges as it had been two hours ago.

She sighed, dropping her hand back down in defeat.

Killer just chuckled.

”heh... you'll get it eventually.”

The first training session ended with Killer picking up the targets and other practice items they'd used, tossing them into a corner rather messily. She assisted him in the process, but couldn't help but wonder whether this was still the same skeleton she was seeing. Since when had Killer been one to put an effort to clean up after himself?

”oh, by the way, can i call ya heart?” Killer blurted out after throwing the mattress into the corner, finishing off the pile of random items.

”...What?” She asked, caught off guard.

”cause you've stolen mine...”

She made sure that Killer both heard and saw the groan & eye-roll combo that she deemed suitable to react with.

”That's so bad. Even for you. Also, you don't have a heart.”

”nope.” Killer replied, popping the letter 'p' somehow. ”wanna give me yours?”

”Literally or figuratively?” She countered, trying her best to keep her tone uninterested despite knowing that Killer was obviously getting a kick out of every answer she granted him.

His grin grew wider. Yeah, she definitely shouldn't try to push his buttons like this...

”depends on your answer.”

She ignored the drop in his voice with another eye roll.

”You're weird.”

Killer chuckled, not doing a damn thing to disagree with her statement. Considering the conversation concluded, she threw her sweater back on and resumed with packing her things, water bottle, plastic knife, half-eaten protein bar...

…

Killer was still just staring at her.

”What.”

”ya didn't answer me.”

She threw the last items into her bag with a little more force than was necessary, before turning to face him.

”Answer what? Your hilarious pickup lines?”

”mm-hm.” Killer hummed before tilting his skull, considering something. ”well... i'm not actually askin'. just tellin' ya.”

She sighed, her frustration towards this guessing game growing palpably.

”Telling me what.”

”your new name.”

...

Her movements stopped, and she was left to stare at Killer's empty, unreadable sockets in confusion. The words took a moment to register, but once they did (partially), a flashback from a conversation last night finally made it click.

Of course, the whole 'murderer-name' -thing. How had she forgotten? Or maybe she'd been actively trying to forget, in hopes that Killer would too... Yeah, as if.

But... She was kind of intrigued now. Did she really hear him correctly?

”...Heart?”

”yup.” Came his reply.

Well, that answered that. And arguably, it wasn't the worst option out there. In fact it seemed weirdly... Endearing. But considering that this was Killer she was talking to, that just couldn't be the case here.

”Why?”

Killer's grin grew wider, like he'd been waiting all day for the question.

”cause that's all ya are in battle, just a tiny little heart floatin' 'round, makes sense to name ya after it.”

Huh. Sounds fake, but okay. Not like she was expecting a normal, riddle-less answer to that anyways.

”...b'sides, it was the only one that the boss agreed with, ya don't even wanna know the other options i had for ya...” Killer continued, browbones bouncing.

”Yeah, you're right. I don't.” She agreed once the initial confusion had wore off, determined to not give him any more confidence boosts. Her bag was thrown over her shoulder, and she was on her way out the door, as she heard Killer's voice once more.

”same time, same place tomorrow. and by the way, i think you're qualified enough for the real thing, ya can throw that wannabe butter spreader in the trash for all i care.”

…

Right.

Until tomorrow, then.

Chapter Text

After a day of throwing, stabbing and play-fighting, it wasn't a surprise that she slept like the dead the night after, longer than she'd probably done since her life on the surface. The morning brought some sore muscles and a noticable increase in appetite, which luckily a certain food-loving skeleton was very happy to take care of. A good, healthy breakfast was delivered to her doorstep, and she prepared herself for another day. This was already starting to feel like a routine.

Not in a nine to five job -kinda way. Just as a hobby.

After stepping into the practice room again and nodding a quick hello to Killer, she dug through her bag to re-equip the toy knife, readying it for another round. Whatever she'd been about to do next however was interrupted by Killer's words catching her attention.

”oh yeah, got this for ya. catch.”

...Huh?

Killer tossed something her way, and luckily his impeccable aim managed to overpower the delay in her human reflexes. Before she could really make a move towards catching the object, it already flew right into her hand, taking the place of the previous weapon that dropped to the floor in the process.

Looking down, she swallowed.

In her hand was now another knife. A real one.

Well, it was hard to tell whether the materials were actually ”real” or not, since the slight tingling sensation insinuated that there was at least some amount of magic involved in the making of it. The handle was black in colour, fitting in her grip nicely. The blade itself was around five inches, not excessively big, but definitely not small either. It had a nice bit of weight to it, making it feel sturdy in her hand.

But what caught her eye the most, was the extremely detailed, beautiful carvings on both sides of the blade. There were spiraling vines, each continuing and expanding from the other like fractals, travelling from the tip all the way to the heel. A faint red glow was eminating from each line, contrasting the colourless glint of the metal-like material.

She couldn't help but study it closer, bringing her other hand to brush her fingers gently against the artwork. The magic tingled even stronger against her fingertips, but otherwise it felt smooth. No sharp edges, except for the actual edge of course, which she decided to not examine closer. After all, she liked her fingers the way they were; actually attached to her hand.

”ya like it?” Killer's voice snapped her back into reality.

Despite the elegant appearance of it, it wasn't easy to distance herself from the fact that the knife was intended to become her weapon to kill people with. The idea of accepting a gift like this felt so wrong, so immoral...

But...

”It's... Wow...” She sighed. ”Where did you get this?”

She glanced up at Killer. Surprisingly, he avoided the eye contact and looked to the side instead, scratching the back of his skull.

”well, ya know... ya needed a weapon n'... just wanted to make sure ya got a nice one...”

The uncharacteristic, slight hesitation in his voice forced her to put two and two together, suddenly making her eyes widen in realization.

”Wait, what? Did you make this?” She exclaimed with a little more volume than what was probably needed. ”This is like the coolest thing I've ever seen! How did you-... Wait, is this red thing your magic? Is that what's making it tingle? It looks so... Pretty...” Her words trailed off as she traced her fingers over the carvings again in awe.

”uh... yeah, it's-...”

Confused by Killer's sudden lack of words, she looked back up at him, just in time to notice something on his face.

What the hell. Is he blushing?

She didn't get a chance to examine his reaction further, as the faint glow faded as quickly as it had appeared. He cleared his throat briefly, before stepping closer to her, seemingly trying to divert away from the topic.

”here, i'll show ya.”

...

...

It turned out that there was a lot more to the knife than just the pretty appearance. It apparently ”sensed intention”, which Killer didn't bother explaining further. It could also fold (shocking, right?), making it fit nicely into her pocket. The next few minutes were spent with Killer trying to explain to her that the item would stay with her even if she changed her clothes.

”Like, it will somehow magically teleport from one pocket to the other?”

”sure.”

”And what if I changed into clothes that didn't have pockets on them?”

”might end up in your bra then.” He suggested with a wink.

And what if she didn't...

...Nevermind.

”well, ya don't wanna go into battle all bare boned do ya?”

...

She didn't bother arguing back.

The point was, she now had a weapon, one that was supposedly designed just for her. Killer hadn't really elaborated much on the subject of magic, but the sheer lethal potential of the knife could be felt as she turned it in her grasp, the handle tingling under her touch.

She could kill someone with this thing, quite easily too. She wouldn't, of course...

But... Looking down to it, a strange feeling started to slowly wash over her.

* ”Knife #3427” – Weapon AT ??

* Made with LOVE. Damage scales
with intent. Not for beginners.

Curiosity. Confidence. Power.

...Determination.

...

”so... ready to try it out, heartthrob?”

Her lip twitched up into a smile. She did kind of want to.

After all, it was just too pretty to go unused, wasn't it?

Progress like this shouldn't be able to happen overnight. Maybe the new weapon was just more fun to throw. Maybe there was indeed some magic involved, helping her with the aim. Or, maybe Killer was just a really good coach. Whatever the reason, she kept hitting the targets with significantly better accuracy compared to yesterday.

Starting out with the toy knife had apparently been Nightmare's idea all along, the reasoning behind it being to ease her into the fighting system without causing a risk of any serious damage to either of them. But now that the 'big guns' were brought out, Killer's enthusiasm towards the whole thing seemed to double.

However, there seemed to be a problem. Her intent, supposedly meaning that the damage she was doing was still not up to the level that she was apparently ”capable of”.

...

”ya should think of...” Killer hummed thoughtfully for a moment. ”is there someone ya hate?”

The intrusive thought won.

”You?”

”nah, ya don't.” He replied with confidence. ”ya love me.”

The smug grin on his face earned a roll of her eyes in reaction.

”but, actually...” Killer continued, briefly glancing at the weapon in her hand before deciding to step in front of her, blocking the view of the target on the wall. ”that might make this more fun. hit me.”

She froze. His words sounded dangerously close to a challenge. But then again, he might just be joking.

”What? No.” She replied, shaking her head. She half-expected Killer to reply with the punchline, but...

”do it.” He insisted, voice stern. His body had suddenly grown completely still, as if he was ready to launch into an attack himself any second.

Oh shit. This wasn't a joke, was it? Sure, she was training for potential fights with actual living opponents, but she didn't wanna accidentally hurt him or something, the weapon in her hand was sharp, dangerous...

”Uh, maybe I could try with the toy knife again-”

”no.”

Killer's magic was burning the air in between them. Even the leaking of his sockets had come to a stop.

He was not asking. This was an order.

She glanced at the knife in her now slightly trembling hand. Then back to Killer. Slowly, she raised the weapon up, eyes focused on his expression. Once poised for attack, she paused for long enough to let the unspoken question hang in the air. 'Are you sure?'

She never got a reply. Killer didn't move, in fact, it seemed like he was barely breathing. She took a deep breath, making sure that he sensed the direction the swing would come from, and...

She went for it.

The attack was, for lack of a better word, pathetic. A far cry from the ones she'd hit the various inanimate objects with before. Her hand swung down as if in slow motion, giving Killer basically five business days to react and dodge out of the way. The aim was also so far off that he never even needed to step aside from his place, all he had to do was to slightly lean out of the way, as the knife passed through the air where his shoulder had been a moment ago.

There was a second or two of silence... Until...

Killer burst into laughter, dropping to the floor as his legs gave out from under him.

Oh for fuck's sake.

Her hands were trembling, her breathing uneven, and she couldn't do anything but stare at the potentially deadly weapon in her hand, all the while Killer was literally rolling on the fucking floor, clutching whatever non-stomach he was using to uncontrollably cackle his bony ass off.

Yeeah, maybe she was starting to understand what this talk about ”intent” was all about...

”hahahaha! oooh fuck kitten, ya sure know how to give a guy a bad time – got me dyyying over here...” Killer managed to speak through his hysterical laughs.

”Oh, shut up! I just... I didn't know if you were being serious, or like, how hard I should go...” She tried to explain herself.

Killer managed to get himself into a sitting position, still breathlessly laughing, wiping some tears from his sockets that didn't look like the black substance that was usually leaking out.

”ohhh babe...” He tried his best to control his giggles and switch into his seductive voice instead. ”ya can go as hard as you'd like~...”

She scoffed in reaction. Was he deliberately provoking her now? If yes, it was kinda working...

But hey, she was still the only one with a knife in her hand, he was physically in a more vulnerable position, sitting on the floor as he was, it wouldn't take much to just lift the knife back up and...

”Can I try again?”

Killer's laugh slowly died down, reducing into mere breaths, as he stared up at the weapon poised for attack. That she was aiming at him. The one that he'd handcrafted for her, infused with his magic...

The amused grin on his face started to turn into a more sinister one, as he worked to stabilize his breath. Partially due to the laughing fit from earlier, but mainly because of...

Well, damn. She sure was a vision like this. And while being threatened with a knife pointing at his soul wasn't exactly a situation he expected to find himself in today, he wasn't complaining the slightest.

”...fuck yeah.” He finally breathed out the reply.

Immediately, she lunged forward, going for a stab near his shoulder. Killer got slightly caught off guard this time, not expecting the sudden switch in her confidence. But a delay in his reflexes wasn't exactly gonna get him hurt just yet, so he was still quite easily able to roll out of the way as the knife passed through air.

The next swing came even quicker, intended to travel across his chest. That finally prompted him to stand back up from the floor, just in time to be able to dodge the next one, and the one after that, and the one after that...

”Is this okay? You good?” She spoke slightly out of breath, throwing attacks at him like she'd been doing this for years. Fuck, she was made for that thing, he knew it...

”yeah, yeah...” Another attack, another miss. ”keep goin'. give it your all, show me what ya got.” He challenged, even managing to throw in a wink. How was he having trouble multitasking all of a sudden?

Provoke a determined soul, and you'll get exactly what you ask for. The attacks came fast after that, from the left and right, from above and below. Of course, her inexperience was showing, and once Killer got used to the rhythm, dodging the attacks wasn't that big of a deal. But that only made it more fun, as it allowed him to focus on... Other things.

Her breath, coming out in panted huffs. Her gaze, laser-focused on the target in front of her. The way she occasionally remembered to adjust her position, trying to follow his advice from before. And fuck, especially the way she decided to completely ignore the voice in her head, and instead went for the unpredictable, sloppy, instinct-driven fighting style that seemed to come more natural to her.

It was...

Hot. As. Fuck.

Killer wished he could read what was going through her mind right now. Was she genuinely trying to hurt him? Would she stop if he asked her to? How much of his HP would it drain, if her weapon reached his-

…

The slightest lapse in his concentration. That was all it took. One particularly well-aimed swing of her knife got just a bit too close for comfort. Not enough to hit, but... He was forced to back off.

”okay okay, time out.” He called, breathless.

Well, at least one of his questions was answered. She did stop her attacks. Not that he actually thought she wouldn't, but... He couldn't rule out the possibility. He was dealing with a human after all, a determined one at that.

”Really? Getting tired already?” She asked, voice playful, despite them both breathing equally heavy.

”nah.” Killer replied. ”just... got some feedback for ya...”

He started babbling again. Sweet nothings at this point. She was taking in his advice, but whatever comments he came up with about her form or her fighting strategy weren't all that relevant anymore. He just needed to stall for time for a bit, enough to get him to focus again...

Before it was time for round two. Despite the brief moment of recalibration, it was still just as unplanned and instinctual, leaving them both a panting mess afterwards.

Exactly how he liked it.

…

Maybe he'd underestimated the kitten's abilities after all.

Maybe she did have more to her than being just a pretty little toy.

Chapter Text

The third training day did not go as planned.

The session started off as usual, and everything was fine for a good portion of it. They'd picked up from where they left off the day before, starting with aiming practice and minor technique adjustments, though Killer had toned down on the verbal cues significantly compared to the first two days, which she could only interpret as a sign of her progress. She had also been holding a cautious sliver of hope that his impulse yesterday to step in front of her weapon was a one time thing... But she should've known better, as his excitement to go for another round was visible the moment he suggested it.

The other sign of her progress became obvious when the (one-sided) sparring began. Compared to the day before, when she literally had to give it her all to cause any signs of fatigue on Killer, today was different. Because today, he'd started dodging her attacks by teleporting. Sure, it happened like every tenth swing or stab, but she had a feeling that he wouldn't waste his energy doing it if he absolutely didn't need to. And, she probably shouldn't have felt as proud of it as she did, but... It honestly felt like the biggest compliment ever.

...

But eventually, that was where it all started to go downhill. Sure, she had intended to aim her attack in a different way than what she would've normally gone for to catch him off guard, but... She hadn't mean to do that.

And more importantly, she definitely hadn't meant to cause the snowball effect that happened afterwards.

In the heat of their ”battle”, her knife caught the sleeve of Killer's hoodie, leaving behind a small tear, no more than an inch wide. Her hand flinched back as if something had burned it, and she took a step back, staring at the damage that his shirt had taken.

The damage that she'd done to it.

Oh no...

”Fuck-, oh fuck sorry, I didn't mean to hit you-, I mean... I didn't actually hit you, right?” Her panicked voice spoke as she stacked her knife away and rushed over to Killer to investigate the tear. After determining that his shirt was apparently the only thing that had been damaged, she sighed in relief. ”Oh thank fuck...”

”no no, that's... heh...” Killer chuckled, eyeing the damaged sleeve of his hoodie. ”that's good. means you're improvin'...”

Apparently deciding that his clothes were getting in the way, he unzipped his hoodie and began undressing it.

”No, listen, that was way too close, I-... Uh...”

Wait, where did that thought just disappear to?

”I wasn't... I mean, I didn't-... Mean... To...”

He's even wearing a shirt underneath. Very decent. A black – oookay, sleeveless – shirt, form fitting and sticking to his slightly sweaty bones very nicely...

Whoa whoa whoa. Snap. The fuck out of it. They're just bones. Since when did she start acting like a Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time? She'd seen Dust's bare ribs before, this was nothing new...

Except that it was. Her gaze lingered on his arms for way longer than she was comfortable admitting, especially to him. And damn, the way the outline of his ribs was clinging to the very thin material of the shirt too...

Killer tossed his hoodie behind him, returning to meet her eyes just a second too early.

Eyes up. Shit. Words. Now.

”I-... I wasn't intending to hurt you. Or your hoodie. Sorry.” She blurted out. She could blame the rush of blood on her face on the physical activity, right?

It seemed to take a while for Killer to catch on why her sentences were suddenly getting cut in half. He studied the expression of her face for a moment before he, experimentally, started rubbing his arms, as if massaging some blood (or maybe magic) into his non-existant muscles, the leather of his glove creaking as it travelled against bone.

Don't look, don't look, don't look...

”yeah? ya suuure you're sorry about the hoodie?”

Oh, he knew, the teasing tone of his voice was a dead giveaway. Fuck, the confidence, the ego of this guy had to be through the roof right now.

She had to act fast.

”Yes, I'm sure. You good to continue?” She tried dismissing him, re-equipping her weapon in preparation for another round. She just had to stay confident, to not give him anything to work with...

Killer studied her face thoughtfully for a moment, before speaking.

”hmm... actually, lemme just make sure we're on the same page here. if you're not intendin' to hurt, what is it you're trainin' for then?”

”Uhh... For... Self-defence..?”

That... Did not sound very confident.

Killer blinked once.

”self-defence.” He repeated, voice dull, as if the statement was just too stupid to even make fun of.

She agreed with a quick 'mm-hm', even though the half-lie she'd come up with in her head was becoming more unconvincing every passing second. For a long, tension-heavy moment, they stared at each other in silence. Killer's expression was impossible to read, the practice-fight setup had a tendency to make his already unpredictable behavior straight up volatile.

Finally, his grin twitched up, and a small chuckle left him. But it was too low to be an amused one. His skull tilted, and his voice dropped to a smooth baritone, as if a switch had been flipped.

”and... what exactly are you defending yourself from?”

She swallowed. This was a real dangerous direction for this to go...

”W-well... I mean...” She started, voice shaking despite her efforts. ”I guess it's good to have those kind of skills, if I ever need them? You know, if someone... Uh...”

*Pop*

Killer disappeared. What the-

”-Ah!”

The yelp she let out echoed in the room as her knees were suddenly kicked from behind, causing her to drop onto her hands and knees on the not-exactly soft floor of the practice room.

Ouch. Rude.

”if someone what? did this?” Killer finished the sentence, the smug, amused tone of his voice sending a rush of frustration through her. Ignoring the pain in her kneecaps, she scrambled back up, and turned to face him.

”What the fuck, Killer?” She nearly shouted. ”Why'd you-... You can't just do that, that hurt!”

No, she wasn't injured by the fall, but that didn't mean it was exactly pleasant either...

Killer's voice matched the pouting expression on his face.

”aww, but ya said it ya self... there are people out there, who can't control themselves 'round girls like you...” He paused to look up and down her body. ”and... no offence, but it looks like your defence skills do need some improvin'...”

Her gaze flicked briefly down to his hand to find a newly summoned knife there, matching the size and the sharpness of hers, serving as an involuntary reminder of the latest time he'd used his knives around her. That night, the very meeting she'd been trying hard to erase from her memory, if only as a pathetic attempt to keep things professional between them.

Shit. A change of plan was needed.

”Don't. Come near me. With that.” She stated with as much confidence as she could muster. But unfortunately, as if her words had been completely inaudible to Killer, he stepped forwards, twirling the weapon between his phalanges.

”gonna stop me?”

She took a step back. Futile. He followed by teleporting right in front of her, startling her enough to cause her to stumble two more steps back in reaction.

Aaand her back hit the wall. Fuck.

Killer stopped with only inches between their bodies, still fiddling with his knife as his gaze travelled down her body, not even trying to hide how it lingered on her chest. A bright, glowing red tongue swiped quickly over his teeth just briefly enough to be visible, and if that wasn't enough of a reason to sound the alarm bells, the feeling of his free hand brushing against her outer thigh, confidently stroking upwards, definitely was one.

”maybe... we could play for a bit... could teach ya reeeal good...”

...

No.

As if suddenly remembering its existance, she gripped the handle of her knife tighter. He had a weapon, she had a weapon, they were equal, she could FIGHT back...

(He'd told her about his LV. They absolutely were not equal.)

The close proximity of the two made it nearly impossible to adopt a proper form for attack, but she managed to raise the weapon in between them, albeit not as confidently as she probably should have done. After all, her intention wasn't to actually touch him with it or do any damage, she just needed him to understand the unspoken words behind the threat.

Back. The fuck. Off.

...

Killer's hand stilled on her thigh.

For about two seconds.

Before she could process anything that happened, there was a bright flash of red, a *clank* that dislodged the knife from her hand, followed by a sound of clatter as it dropped to the floor next to her. She turned her head to the direction of the noise, just in time to see her weapon being kicked to the opposite side of the room, conveniently way out of her reach.

Welp, there goes her only sense of confidence.

”nu-uh. if ya have to defend ya self, you're already in a losin' position. gonna have to get more creative than that...”

The grin on Killer's face turned sharper than the knife she'd been threatening him with. His breath was hot on her face as he leaned closer.

”so, show me~... how would'ya fight back if someone came on to ya like this?”

And suddenly, his hands were everywhere. Her waist, hips, thighs, just barely avoiding the more delicate areas. After the initial wave of shock passed, she roughly swatted his hands away, but her attempts to keep him at arm's length were successful only for a second or two before he came back for more, grabbing and squeezing her as if she had suddenly given him the permission to do so. Which obviously, she fucking hadn't.

”S-... Stop! You're so-... Annoying!” She spoke between heavy breaths, clinging to the bones on his arms to try to keep his hands off of her. Killer just giggled, further confirming the fact that he could easily overpower her at any moment he'd like. He was just toying with her.

”ya know... i don't think insults would do much for guys like this... might even make 'em go... harder...”

'Pleaaase let that be just a stupid pun and not anything that should be taken literally...'

Killer's touch continued to travel eagerly down from her waist, to her hips...

”and, what if they did this?”

...Before suddenly grabbing her ass with both hands.

Since he wasn't actually pinning her to the wall this time, she was able to shove an elbow into his ribcage hard enough to force him to back off a step. She probably hurt her elbow more than anything, but he'd clearly been asking for some kind of reaction, right? That should suffice.

But unfortunately, Killer didn't look the least bit offended by the hit. If anything, he looked more excited.

”heh. not bad...”

A tug on her chest and a swing of Killer's arm was the only warning she got, before her body was thrown to the ground, her back hitting the floor with a thud, knocking the wind out of her.

Of course. Gravity magic. Now that's just straight up cheating.

”...but not exactly good either.” Killer continued, hand hovering in the air as he walked around her. ”ya see, i've told ya before that guys like me don't exactly like to play fair...”

”Yeah, yeah, I know about your magic tricks, you're-, ngh-, not gonna scare me with that...” She interrupted him, grateful for her remanining ability to speak, as most of her focus went to avoiding looking up anywhere near him and his stupid fucking glowing pants.

Killer merely grinned at her useless struggles against the invisible force.

”aww, did dusty hold ya down like this too? course you're not scared, i know ya two did some freaky shit... but, heh-, never thought you'd agree to this...”

She scoffed, refusing to answer. He knew way too much about her sex life already, she didn't need to feed him with any more details.

Killer finished his circling, standing now next to her, skull tilted curiously.

”but i digress. so, back to the topic...”

Her attempts at struggling against his magic came to a sudden halt as Killer's sneaker pressed against her cheek, forcing her head to face away from him. And he left it there.

What. The fuck.

”so, you're in a bit of a sticky situation now. ya can't fight, ya can't move, and, heh... boss likes his quiet, so the walls are extra sound-proofed here too... ya could scream aaall ya want, nobody would hear ya...”

She tried turning her head, definitely not to see him, but to put up a small effort of fight in the only way she was still able to. But even that turned out to be a bad idea, as Killer only pressed his shoe against her face harder, making her cheeks get squished under his foot.

This had to be rock bottom. His used, dirty shoe, was right against her face, and he had a hold on her soul that made nearly any kind of movement impossible. It just couldn't get any worse.

But... The newly appeared ache between her legs told her that she might be on her way to reach a new low yet again.

”and... those sexy little threats and wiggles don't exactly have the right intent behind them... might even make me think you're into this...”

Shit. Those words sounded just a bit too familiar. Goddamn intent this, intent that, why couldn't these skeletons just rely on her words for once, instead of determining the level of her consent by some subconscious and somehow involuntarily visible feelings of hers?

She muffled out a sound that sounded distantly like a disagreement, desperately hoping for him to not peer into her soul right now and find out the full truth. He didn't deserve to know.

”aw, am i wrong? d'ya want me to stop? i'll give ya a hint, ya gotta use that pretty mouth of yours n' talk your way outta this...”

Talk? Really? With a shoe on her face?

Fine. She'd lost the last of her dignity already anyways.

”...Plleas sstp?” She managed to speak, voice embarrassingly muffled.

Killer chuckled in amusement, tilting his skull.

”hmm, not really convinced with that... what's in it for me?”

Her eyes widened. He wanted to negotiate some kind of a deal now? That... Sounded very concerning. He did have her body fully under his control after all, and it wasn't like he had been exactly subtle about his plans concerning her thus far. But she had never agreed to any of this! And he knew that! And it wasn't like she wanted him to just have his way with her, rip her clothes off and take her on the floor right now-

”mm, i know... we'll get to that eventually...” Killer spoke thoughtfully, as if replying to something she absolutely did not say out loud. Or think out loud for that matter.

She hadn't, right?

”...but, since colleagues aren't supposed to fuck each other in the middle of a practice, how 'bout i take somethin' else in return for this little lesson, hm?”

Finally, finally, the sneaker left her cheek. But... Turning her head towards Killer was a mistake. First of all, his hand that wasn't hovering in the air to maintain the control on her, was holding yet another knife. He was on his way to kneel in between her legs, the expression on his face disturbingly neutral, considering the...

Yep, she glanced down. How could she not? His bulge was like a beacon shining down at her at this point.

It took all her concentration to not let her reaction show physically, but she failed to stop the rush of arousal that washed through her at the sight. Sure, it had been a while since she'd gotten some action, but that didn't mean it didn't look good. Red, as expected, outline pretty much visible through his white shorts, leaving enticingly little for imagination.

Fuuuuuck.

And yeah, judging by Killer's smug grin that followed, he definitely caught her looking. But still, he would never know how embarrassingly affected she actually was, not unless he...

...

Wait.

Oh no...

Killer's hand holding the knife hooked onto the waistband of her pants, pulling down just enough to reveal a bit of her hip, and her underwear of choice for today. Her sound of disapproval was ignored, as his phalanges pulled on the fabric of her panties, making it snap against her skin.

”mmm, pretty... it'd be a shame if someone ruined these, wouldn't it?”

The slice of his knife was quick but precise, never actually making contact with her skin. And just like that, the waistband of her panties was cut in half. One of her favourites too. Fuck's sake.

”I hate you.” She finally managed to groan out loud.

Killer chuckled as he made an identical cut on the other side as well.

”we'll see about that.”

Grabbing a hold of the fabric, he started pulling her underwear off her. Not only that, but he did it slow, purposefully letting the fabric drag against her folds, no doubt soaking it even further than it probably already was. She had to squeeze her eyes shut and bite her lip to stifle the whimper that almost left her, and even then it was impossible to stop the shuddering gasp from being audible. It just felt so fucking good. How did it feel so good? He wasn't even touching her!

And the worst part of all of this was that Killer knew the effect he had on her. And if that fact hadn't been obvious before, the arousal-covered piece of clothing that he was now dangling in front of his face definitely confirmed it. All he did was just stare at it, while breathing heavily. For quite a while.

She sighed, rolling her eyes.

”Are we done now?” She asked, refusing to meet his sockets and trying to replace the embarrassement (and the breathiness) in her voice with frustration.

”fuck, kitten...” He finally breathed out, gaze still locked onto the price in front of him. ”all this for me?”

His voice and the expression on his face seemed to be torn between smug amusement and pure lust, as if he was trying his best to hold the latter back. There might've even been a hint of... Disbelief? Was he capable of that?

The magic holding her down suddenly released, causing her to breathe out a sigh that turned into a small cough. Finally being given freedom, she crawled backwards away from Killer and adjusted the waistband of her pants back to a decent level, before wiping her face clean-ish from the sand and (hopefully) not monster related dust that his shoe had left behind. Ew.

Killer too seemed to finally snap out of his underwear-induced trance and huffed out a short laugh, before stuffing the newly acquired item into his pocket and conveniently also adjusting... Something else in his pants.

”sure, yea. we're done. unless ya wanted to take it further..?” He suggested so casually it was frustrating. ”i'm still up for it...”

She retrieved her knife from the corner, and replied to Killer with the most deadpan expression she could muster right now. Which probably wasn't very convincing, considering the furious blush on her face and the fact that she would have to perform the walk of shame back to her room while going commando, not far off from leaking down her thighs at this point.

Lesson learned. She was never, ever calling whatever they did 'self-defence' again.

Chapter Text

In the very early hours of the morning, her sleep was interrupted by a bang from the room next door. And concerningly so, this wasn't the first time she'd been woken up by a sound like that during the past few nights.

Training was going fine, and Nightmare seemed to be pleased with her progress, apparently blissfully oblivious to what was actually happening in the practice room. Sure, what went down last time wasn't exactly supposed to happen, but she preferred Nightmare not knowing about it anyways, as she wasn't sure whether something like that could be used against her even if it had been Killer who'd initiated the whole thing. It wasn't exactly easy to forget the whole ”behave or die” command that he'd been the messenger for, so it seemed like the safest option was to play along for now.

Since the whole LV-incident, her life at the castle had come to somewhat of a standstill. Her days were spent throwing knives around, and the nights alone in her bed, recovering from another day's worth of definitely-not-murder-related work. But during nights like these, when a reminder of the disturbing reality of the situation made escaping to a mindless slumber impossible, she was forced to think again. There were, after all, several things that were not well.

Dust seemed to still be barely getting along with Killer and Horror. The only time she'd seen the three of them somewhat willingly in a room together (that didn't involve forced group meetings or killing people), was the one infamous dinner during one of their first nights here. After that, everyone had just collectively and wordlessly agreed that any kind of roommate / colleague bonding time just wasn't worth the effort, at least none that she knew of. Every night there was food available at dinnertime, but everyone was always busy either on a mission, practicing (were they really?), or just sulking in the confines of their own rooms, making any kind of casual interaction impossible.

This was not ideal.

...

There was another bang.

Dust hadn't taken the offer to visit her during the night, and the urge to break into his room was increasing by the second. His stubborn tendency to choose to suffer alone was starting to be unbearable to ignore once again.

*Bang*

Of course, she could be wrong. She didn't know for sure what the source of the noise was, maybe it was nothing to worry about, maybe one of them is just doing something work-related in their room that's causing random sounds... In the middle of the night...

*Bang*

*Bang*

*Bang*

She needed to stop thinking for a while.

...

...

Down the hall, a couple of turns from the living quarters, was a cozy balcony, overlooking...

Well... Not much.

There was mostly darkness. No matter the time of day or night, it was impossible to see further than a few meters ahead. It all kinda just faded into black. But somehow, the air here was cooler, fresh, smelling faintly of early morning fog. So, whatever laws of physics applied in this universe, it seemed like this was the closest thing to being ”outside” as the castle would allow.

She'd visited this place earlier, but this must've been the first time she'd done so at this hour. The only thing lighting up the all black sky, was a faraway moon. Or, something that was this universe's equivalent to a moon, anyways...

She decided to call it a moon nevertheless. Not the Moon, just a regular moon.

There wasn't a day and night cycle. Either the glowing ball was visible, which meant that it was very late. Or, it was nowhere to be seen, signaling the waking hours. That was where her details about this phenomenon ended.

There was no wind. No stars. No sounds of animals in the distance. Just silence.

She stared off into the darkness for a few more moments.

...

...

What the hell was their situationship anyways? How was she supposed to approach a situation where she first gets killed by a random skeleton monster a few times, then decides to leave everything in her previous life behind for him, then ends up having sex with said skeleton and moving together with him and two of his alternate universe counterparts plus a weird tentacle god who went on to destroy her home universe?

What were they? Colleagues? Roommates? Friends? With benefits? Partners in crime? Regular partners? A weird three-way drama waiting to explode any day? Did they even need to define any of it?

What does Dust want? Would she get an answer if she asked?

At least with Killer there was no need for questions like these, he'd made his intentions extremely clear by now.

Why couldn't everything just be simple like that?

...

...

The position of the ”moon” had shifted slightly. Counterclockwise.

Yawning, she decided to return to her room.

After opening the door with a small click, she froze at the sight of a light shining from the floor. The screen of her phone was lit up, for just a few seconds, before it switched off again, leaving the room dark.

Her phone? Yeah, she'd pretty much forgotten its existance at this point, since it wasn't like there was a way to access the internet here, let alone call or text someone, or...

...

...Text someone?

...

Dust still had her number.

She closed the door behind her and rushed over to the phone, her sleepy state vanishing as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on her.

And sure enough, there it was, words on the screen suddenly making her forget the lack of stars on the night sky.

- Dust: you awake?

A sigh left her. Was it relief? Worry? Excitement?

Sure, she had intended to go back to sleep a minute ago, but...

- I am, what's up?

...She would have a day off tomorrow anyways. Sleep could wait.

*Typing...*

She stared at the screen, seconds feeling like hours. A few of them passed, until a new message caused another sigh to leave her – one of affection.

- Dust: can i come over?

The answer was easy.

- Yeah. Always

She'd been expecting for Dust to pop into existance next to her on the bed, so of course she got startled when there was a faint knock on her door instead. He was a magical skeleton monster with teleportation abilities, why was he not using them?

She got up, and opened the door for him. It was dark in the hallway, but he looked... Normal. If there was such a thing for Dust.

”Hey.” She greeted him with a small smile. A short, low 'hmh' was the only response she got. Yup, seems normal indeed, just as impossible to read as always.

She stepped aside to let him enter. Dust took in his surroundings for a moment, before choosing to take a seat at the edge of her bed. Now, in a dim lighting, he did look pretty much like his usual self, maybe slightly less grumpy than what his recent reclusive behavior was suggesting. His hood was up, but his face was visible. Good sign.

”nice bed.” He muttered after a moment, no distinguishable tone to his voice.

After closing the door, she climbed up to take her own place, leaning against the headboard.

”Yeah, it's from, uh... You know...”

”mm-hm.”

Well, that was already a direction that this conversation wasn't supposed to go. Noticing his reluctance with the topic, she quickly decided to switch onto a more suitable one.

”So, uh... How come you didn't just teleport in here? I thought you preferred that to walking.”

”can't 'port anywhere i haven't been to or isn't in my line of sight.” Dust explained.

”Oh...” She nodded slowly. ”That makes sense, kind of.”

Small talk? With Dust? Yeah, she probably shouldn't have excepted to get far with that strategy.

A minute passed in silence, with neither of them saying a word. Dust hadn't once met her eyes since stepping into the room. Not only was he difficult to interact with on a good day, but it had also been a while since they'd talked, leaving her slightly out of touch as to how to approach him casually. And actual alone time like this hadn't happened in at least, what, a week? Two weeks? Was time getting distorted here too? Did time really even matter anymore? It sure as hell seemed to move slowly. The moon moved slowly.

Ditching the attempts at small talk, she clung onto the only logical concept of time available currently and decided to take the next steps with him slowly. Scooting closer to him, she carefully placed a hand over his that was resting on his leg. The small gesture was left unanswered, but it seemed like he wasn't trying to back off from it either. She kept her voice soft as she spoke to him.

”Why are you awake? Are you having nightmares again? I heard some noises from your room and-...”

Dust cut her off by a small shake of his skull, leaving the sentence unfinished. The staring contest he'd started with the wall ahead of him continued for a few more long seconds, before he pulled his feet up on the bed (shoeless, thankfully) and settled into a cross-legged position facing her. The hand contact was broken in the process, hers returning back into her lap on instinct.

Dust seemed to gather his thoughts for a while, before finally turning them into a few hesitantly spoken words.

”can i... ask you something?”

She nodded and hummed an affirmative, deciding to brush off the fact that he'd straight up ignored her previous question. This was more important now. Dust was talking.

”how are you feeling about all this? i mean the training, and... everything.” Dust spoke, the end of his sentence sounding like he was definitely leaving some words unsaid.

She blinked, somewhat surprised of the question. Well, not so much the question itself, but moreso the fact that he was putting in the effort to initiate any sort of conversation in the first place. She didn't need to pull up a calendar to know that this was something that hadn't happened in a while.

...How was she feeling about this?

”Uh, it's just... Weird, I guess. The training itself is kinda fun actually, gives me something to focus on. And it was nice to get out of the castle for a moment as well, at least until it came to the whole 'killing' -thing, I mean...”

Dust smiled, his expression uncharacteristically soft, gaze still locked onto the bedsheets.

”yeah? what do you like about the surface?”

She thought about the question for a moment, trying to remember the few good parts of a terrible day.

”I... Guess just the... Fresh air? Like, it's nice to go out, see a new place...”

Meet new people, watch them die... Nope.

”...And uh, seeing the sky was kinda nice.”

Well, it was an answer. Not a great one, but it would have to do.

Dust nodded slowly, seemingly deep in thought. After a long moment of silence, she figured that he wasn't gonna be the one to continue the conversation from here.

”How about you? How do you feel about all this?” She returned the question.

Dust shrugged in reply.

That was it. That was all she got out of him.

Well, if she thought her answer was bad, it was still lightyears ahead of the socials skills of this skeleton apparently.

”Okay... So... What do you wanna do? Did you want to sleep, or...?” She left the question hanging in the air, trying her hardest to not let her frustration show in her voice. Why did it have to be so impossible to have a normal two-sided conversation with him?

Dust sighed in reply, before his hand reached into his pocket.

”brought something for ya.”

Ah, theere we go. He did have a reason for his visit after all. Of course he did, he wasn't exactly the type to do things just for the fun of it, especially if said things could have a positive impact on his mental health. She should've known better than that.

Dust pulled out a small, rectangular box from his pocket. Her breath got caught in her throat at the sight of it. It looked very much like a...

”so, this is, uh...” He opened the box, revealing a simple metal-grey ring inside. ”i found this during a mission today. figured you should at least have a decent piece of armor on you in case you... need it.”

She stared at it. Then stared at it some more. There was suddenly a swarm of angry butterflies in her stomach.

”Dust..? What is this?” She asked hesitantly, taking the opened box that he was offering her, turning it in her hand.

”should be good quality, you'll see the stats once you equip it.”

”...What?”

Dust rolled his eyelights, before taking the box back from her. He pulled the ring from its holder and took a hold of her left hand, starting to fit the ring into place. It was too big for the pinky, but the finger next to it seemed like a perfect fit.

”that feel ok?” Dust asked, once the ring was in place. He was still holding her hand, eyelights now searching her face for a reaction.

He apparently had no idea why she'd suddenly lost her ability to think straight.

”Dust, why are you giving me a ring?” She asked once more for confirmation. She just needed one more nonchalant answer to stop the spiral of thoughts going on in her head...

Dust sighed, his gaze dropping again.

”i just... don't exactly trust killer's ability to control himself during your sessions. you should wear it at all times if you can, if only as a... precaution.”

That sealed it. It was just a cultural difference, nothing more. As the initial shock started fading, it was slowly being replaced with the knowledge of what this was actually about.

Armor. Rings are armor for monsters. Got it. Don't think too much into it.

”...Okay.” She finally breathed out, still staring at their joined hands. ”Thank you, for this. I won't take it off.”

Dust's eyelights raised up to look at her, meeting her eyes for the first time in what must've been days.

”promise?”

She stared back at him, trying her best to hide the utter confusion on her face. The question was absurd, in a real bittersweet way. One word from Dust could have a hundred different meanings, and ”promise” wasn't one that he'd used lightly in the past. But somehow, if she really focused on those eyelights, she could see something behind his expression. Or, it wasn't so much something that could be seen, heard or felt, it just... Was.

If she was to continue playing this ”game” the way she was, having the ring equipped would act as a protective armor, its magical abilities making the hits that she would inevitably endure cause less physical damage, consequently making them less painful.

But that wasn't all of it. The last part was weak and distorted, but it was there.

He was gifting her this because he c-ar-ed-.

...

Maybe that was all that was needed.

She swallowed down an emotion that threatened to escape, and forced her mind to interpret the answer she was going to give him in the most. Casual. Way. Possible.

”Yeah.” She nodded. ”I promise.”

* ”Stolen Ring” – Armor DF 30

* Just a simple piece of jewelry. Don't
bother returning, there isn't much
left of the previous owner.

Dust's gaze flicked briefly to the wall, before his hand withdrew from hers and reached into his pocket again.

”also...” He pulled out a small plastic bag, handing it to her. ”these are from... well, you can probably guess.”

Forcing herself to ignore the feeling of the ring around her finger, she took the bag offered to her. Through the plastic, she could see small pieces of what seemed like candy inside, maybe 20 of them in various colours and sizes, looking somewhat similar to the ones she'd seen in the jar on the kitchen counter. And, since there was only one skeleton in the castle who was interested in anything food-related, she could indeed guess who was behind this particular gift.

* ”Candy bag” – Heals 10-20 HP

* Mixed handmade monster candy. The
bigger the piece, the more HP is healed.

Oh, so they were talking to each other?

”he wanted you to have this. for... similar reasons.” Dust explained. ”if you ever get injured, two of these will be enough to heal ya no matter how low you are.”

She nodded slowly, studying one of the candies in her hand. They smelled like regular sugary treats, kinda making her want to try one right now, but... She obviously wasn't injured currently. At least the way they'd been packaged in a resealable plastic bag made them look less like candy and more like medicine of sorts, quelling the urge slightly.

”and same thing here, always keep them with you if ya can. just stick the bag in your pocket, it'll appear when-... if it's needed.”

”Yeah, Killer told me about that...” She replied, following his order. Because of course a magical pocket could fit a foldable knife and now also a bag of candy... Luckily she'd made the decision to not question the laws of physics when it came to monster stuff a long time ago.

The sudden flare of Dust's magic could be felt.

”he what.”

Her gaze snapped up in reaction to the unexpected switch to the cold, almost murderous tone in his voice. Did she say something wrong? He'd been so approachable until now, what happened?

Dust took a breath and closed his sockets briefly, before re-wording his question, voice now sounding as if he was trying his best to sound casual again.

”why did killer tell you that?”

”Oh. He gave me a knife.”

The flinch on Dust's face was barely visible. If he'd been sulking in the depths of his hood again she might've missed it. And, just as she feared, the small reaction was quickly hidden by a lazy smile that he forced on his face. He even let out a brief chuckle, sounding nothing like his genuine laugh.

...Had she ever heard him laugh genuinely?

...

Of course.

Of course Killer would give her a weapon. If there had been doubts before whether Nightmare was really planning to turn her into a murder machine for his own benefits just like the three of them, this confirmed that the two knew exactly what they were doing. A determined human coupled with a knife was a foolproof recipe for disaster. Her soul would be harnessed to act on pure, lethal instinct, eventually overwriting any traces of kindness or integrity left.

After all, how was a human like herself going to say no to a demigod? She hadn't even been able to stay away from Dust when it was needed, she was unable to resist Killer's charm, and even Horror-

...

A sudden *bang* sounded from somewhere down the hall again. Then another, louder than the previous one. That confirmed it, the source of the noise definitely wasn't the skeleton in front of her. And if it wasn't him, then...

”What's making that noise?”

Dust sighed, and brought his hand up to pinch the space between his sockets.

”...it's horror.”

Her eyes widened, gaze turning to the wall instinctively. She hadn't expected Dust to know, much less for him to tell her so openly. Not only that, but he defied expectations once again as he continued speaking.

”he's the one havin' bad dreams. has it worse than i do.”

*Bang*

The sound, combined with the info she'd just received made something in her chest twist painfully. Horror. The big and scary, sweet and gentle monster was suffering. Alone. For how many nights in a row now? Why wasn't anyone helping him? Why wasn't she helping him? If he was anything like Dust (which he probably was, they were technically the same person after all), maybe she did have a chance in making him feel better? Would the same trick work for him as well? She had to do something about it, right?

Dust let out a sigh, making her gaze snap back to him.

Shit, had he been reading her mind again?

...

Dust hadn't really slept much in the castle. Not since the first night, back when he'd had... Company.

Only now, the nightmares weren't his own. But the sounds of pained groaning and body parts hitting the wall separating his room and the one next to it were all too familiar. They were the same person after all, sharing the same soul deep down. And Dust knew all too well what the easiest solution to the problem was – a 'one cure fits all' kinda situation.

Still, it had taken a couple of days for him to make the offer. To make the decision to let go.

”WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THIS IS DIFFICULT FOR YOU? YOU HAD NO TROUBLE GETTING RID OF ME EITHER.”

But wasn't that his new goal anyways? This was just the first step towards it.

Maybe for now, it was just to genuinely help the ex human-eater, to give him another chance, the guy seemed to have been through enough shit in his life. He was also the more tolerable of the two, providing her with actually useful items instead of giving her stupid nicknames or... Knives. In a situation like this, Horror could almost be considered an ally.

Or maybe it was for Dust to get some peace and quiet himself, to make focusing on his new ”work project” possible. Or maybe it was to let her fulfill her ”purpose” of feeling ”useful” once again, just with another version of him at the receiving end.

Maybe it was all of the above. But whatever the reason was, he could've never expected the conversation with Horror to go where it did. He just had to go and try to act like the reasonable one, didn't he?

...

”thought ya... marked her?”

”didn't. can't remember doin' it so it doesn't count.”

It was a stupid excuse. Both of them knew that that wasn't how it worked. Luckily, Horror had decided to not push it.

But unfortunately, it wasn't the only question that he had hit Dust with.

”...bonded?”

'shut. the fuck. up.'

”look-, just... tell her what ya need and she'll come running to your door in an effort to help you as soon as ya do, i know that much about her. just don't accidentally kill her in the process or somethin', alright? preferably.”

...

Well, in the end Horror hadn't taken the opportunity, so that was something at least. But it wasn't like he was exactly able to keep his issue a secret from her for long, not with all of them crammed into the same damn wing of the castle for each night, with walls as thick as paper.

They were the same person. Horror would get addicted just as easily, maybe even easier, considering the healthier state of his soul. Dust knew that.

But maybe it was easier to not care anymore. That was something he used to excel at, after all.

...

Dust stared at the ground for several long seconds, before speaking.

”ya wanna help him?”

She blinked. Either he could literally hear her thoughts, or was just damn good at guessing. She chose to go for the second option, if only to make her feel like she still had a sense of privacy around him.

She nodded her answer.

”Only if you're okay with it.”

Dust smiled. It looked really, really close to his genuine one. Even his eyelights raised up to look at her, his gaze warm and soft. He can't be faking this one...

”go for it.”

Her eyes widened. If he was indeed telling her what she thought he was, this was huge.

”You sure?”

Dust's expression stayed unchanging, as if frozen in time. He shrugged.

”wouldn't lie to ya. scream if he tries anythin'.”

She didn't get a chance to reply, as she was suddenly left staring at an empty space on the bed where Dust had been just a second ago.

Guess that meant the end of discussion then. At least it seemed like there was some progress happening between the boys? Communication even?

That had to be a good sign. A very good one.

...

Technically, Dust didn't break a promise. He never lied to her. He just succeeded in making his agreement sound like the truth. And at times like these a conveniently timed shortcut really came in handy, faking intent for even a few short seconds was an exhausting task.

Faintly, he could hear the door of her room open, soon followed by a knock on the one next to his, immediately stopping the sounds of distress coming from the other side of the wall.

Yup. Dust was definitely sleeping on the couch tonight.

Chapter Text

Was she actually doing this? What the hell did 'doing this' even entail? Did he even want help? Was this safe by any means? Was she even decently dressed for this? Tank top and shorts? Seriously?

Why didn't she stop to think about those questions before reaching for the doorknob?

...

Rationally thinking, if Dust trusted Horror enough to suggest ”going for this”, that had to mean there was some kind of a mutual understanding going on between the two. And the least she could do was to check whether Horror was doing okay, maybe bring him a snack or some water if he needed it. That was just a polite thing to do, and it didn't exactly seem like the others were interested in putting in the effort.

”Horror?” She half-whispered through the small crack in the door. ”Are you awake? Can I come in?”

That last part just... Slipped out.

After a moment of anxious waiting, she figured that the answers wouldn't come without some effort from her part. Suddenly overwhelmed with concern, she peeked her head to see further into the room. Just to check on him.

The first thing she was hit with, was the temperature of the room, probably a good five degrees colder compared to the rest of the castle. The air smelled somehow of wet moss. And though it was almost pitch black inside, the absolute chaos that decorated the room was very much visible, almost reminding her of Dust's old room back in the Underground. Random trash and broken objects littered the floor, and the interior design looked as if everything movable had been pushed against the far wall to make some space in the middle of the room.

And then, there was that eye. Staring right at her, glowing in the dark corner like a blood moon on a starless night sky.

He was obviously very much awake. And very, very aware of her presence apparently.

Horror was not speaking. Not that he'd have to, she was the one who had invaded his room after all, and was yet to offer him any explanation as to why she did so, too busy standing frozen in the doorway and calming her pounding heartrate down to an acceptable level. And to breathe, that was a good thing to remember as well.

”...Hi.” She offered, with a small, shaky smile.

Horror didn't move, remaining still as a statue, apart from his eyelight that seemed to follow every single little movement of hers.

Here goes nothing.

She quietly shut the door behind her, and took a couple of careful steps towards the huge skeleton sitting hunched in the corner of his bed. A bed, that was quite obviously way too small for someone his size, as was the entire room for that matter. He was clutching a bundled mess of blankets, and there was a cracked dent on the wall where his skull was leaning against.

...Oh.

That must be where the banging sound had originated from. Not good.

She hesitantly took a seat on the edge of his bed at a comfortable distance, before taking a deep breath, focusing on keeping her voice soft.

”I'm sorry to just burst in but... I heard you're having some trouble sleeping. Dust told me. And I just thought, if you need anything, I'm here for you. Could bring you some snacks or... Whatever you need.”

She paused for a moment, carefully considering her next words.

”Or... If you just want me to... Be here, I could do that too. It has helped Dust a couple of times, and since you're... Well, you're kind of the same person, so maybe it could work for you too?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized what a stupid statement it was to make. That wasn't how people worked. Everyone was an individual, she shouldn't try to label the three of them into the same category of 'skeletons named Sans', expecting them to like the same things and act the same way.

A sudden wave of regret quickly took over, the next words flying out from her mouth without a second thought behind them.

”Or, uh... If not, I can just leave. That's fine too.”

Horror wasn't replying. After another disappointing moment of silence, she sighed and broke the eye contact, before standing back up from the bed.

”Yeah. I'll do that. I hope you have a good night-”

”don't.”

...

The word was barely audible. Her gaze snapped back towards Horror to meet his eye that was communicating the exact thing he had spoken out loud, doubling down on his plea.

Yeah. Each of them definitely needed a unique kind of approach, and she was slowly figuring out what the correct one was for this particular skeleton.

”...Okay.” She breathed out, carefully sitting back down on the bed. ”Okay. I'll stay.”

What was visible of the expression on Horror's face seemed to soften slightly at her response. But even that didn't do much to hide how tense he still looked, hands tangled into the bedsheets, as if they desperately wanted to hold... Something else.

Wait. This was a situation she knew first hand. Maybe the solution could be even simpler than she'd originally thought?

”Do you want a hug?”

...

...

Silence wasn't a rejection. Not with him. Wait for it.

There was a long moment of processing. When the words apparently registered, Horror's eyelight blew wide, and his hands grabbed the sheets in his lap to toss them to the side. The unexpected movement, as well as his form suddenly coming closer to her faster than she had been prepared for startled her enough to flinch back away from him slightly, her arms coming up to protect her chest.

Immediately, Horror froze in place, eyelight shrinking small.

”Hold on, wait...” She quickly spoke, dropping her hands back down. She had to prove to him that she wasn't scared, she just... Hadn't had an axe murderer hug her before.

'...Get that name out of your head already.'

”Just... Go slow, okay?”

She scooted closer towards him on the bed, leaving enough space for him to initiate the contact whenever he felt like it. But Horror seemed unsure, his eye scanning her face as both of them waited in silence for the other to make the first move. Well, he had gone for it already, but she just had to ruin it because of some stupid trauma response, hadn't she?

She sighed and dropped her gaze, breaking the eye contact. With a movement that was intended to come across as confident, she grabbed a hold of Horror's hand, bringing it to her shoulder and keeping it in place with her own hand. His bones felt heavy and warm, the pressure almost grounding.

”Look, I'm not afraid of you. It's just-... I've been through a lot lately, and my reflexes might be a bit jumpy from having to learn to dodge knives and bones and axes and whatnot...”

Horror's hand twitched against her shoulder as if trying to pull away, but hers held it in place insistently.

”No, I don't-...” She took a breath, squeezing his hand. ”I don't blame you. And I don't need to know the details on why it happened, I just...”

He tried to kill her. Sure.

But so did Dust. Successfully.

”...I want you to feel better.”

Desperately. As if she could hear how much he needed this.

...

Slowly, Horror's hand moved under hers, phalanges opening and brushing against her fingers, before lacing the digits together. His claw engulfed her smaller hand, but despite the ridiculous size difference and the obvious power imbalance, right now there was nothing about his proximity that felt scary. Not anymore. She squeezed his hand in affirmation, and leaned her cheek against their joined hands. Holding her gaze on that lone red eye felt hypnotizing.

Horror blinked once slowly, before his deep, quiet voice broke the silence.

”...can i?”

She nodded, cheek brushing against his knuckles, rational thoughts somehow not feeling all that important anymore.

...

...

Well, some thoughts returned at full force as Horror picked her up and confidently positioned her to straddle his femurs as if she weighed absolutely nothing.

Oh. Oh wow.

Yeah, the breathing. Remember to do that.

As the initial surprise passed, she noticed a few things. His hands weren't grabbing roughly, they merely rested on the curve of her waist, phalanges probably close to making contact with each other if he was to squeeze a bit. There was no sharp static electricity surrounding him, neither a burning sensation of overflowing magic. He was just really warm. And soft. Was it just his clothes? Did he feel warm only in contrast to the cool air of the room?

Horror leaned against the wall, skull tilted slightly to the side as he watched her reaction with an expression of curiosity. The small grin on his face might've even hinted towards mild amusement, which she couldn't help but feel a little bit proud of. It sure was a stark contrast to his demeanor just a couple of minutes ago, insinuating that her plan might just be working as intended.

One of Horror's hands eventually left her waist to reach behind her, gently coaxing her forwards but still letting her be the one to initiate closing the gap.

Right. The hug. That's what this was about.

And oh, how easy did he make it. The monster who'd tried to chop her up with an axe was suddenly nowhere to be seen, and instead her body leaned closer towards the warmest, most ridiculously comfortable lap she'd even had the chance of experiencing. Her hands snaked around his shoulders, face nuzzling against the fluffy fur of his hood, and for a moment it was easy to forget that this wasn't about making her feel comfortable. This was all about Horror.

...Whose form had gone tense, and his breathing had stopped for long enough for her to consider backing off.

But that wasn't how this skeleton worked. If he wanted her to leave, he would tell her. If he wanted to tell her, he needed time to be able to do so. And even if his words somehow failed and he'd have to resort to physically pushing her away, with that strength of his he'd have no problem doing so.

So she stayed still. Waiting.

The sigh that finally left him was strained, his body visibly deflating. His arms wrapped around her, first hesitantly, but a sense of desperation grew in his movements as he finally gathered her body as close to his ribcage as physically possible. There was another sigh, a long one, that ended with a low groan, vibrating against her. His arms squeezed tighter for a moment, before releasing again, repeating this for a few times as if he wasn't quite sure of the amount of strength he was supposed to be using.

As he settled with a pressure equivalent to a form-fitting shirt rather than a corset, his skull fell back against the wall with a small thud, another stuttering sigh leaving him. In fact, none of his breaths seemed exactly ”normal” or ”controlled”, it sounded more as if he was trying to breathe through a thick could of smoke while having a mild panic attack. She didn't exactly know what to make of that, other than the obvious fact that this guy apparently hadn't been hugged in a while.

Touch-starved. That's what's going on. Just like Dust. And probably Killer, now that she thought about it, just in a different way. He was the direct one, leaving no room for misunderstandings. Dust was... Complicated.

And Horror was something new to get used to.

His hands never wandered anywhere inappropriate, they merely stroked soothing patterns through her shirt, the tips of his phalanges feeling like a wide tooth comb scratching her back. The uneven gasps and sighs were slowly starting to settle into a more stable rhythm, his chest rising and falling against her.

Neither of them were in a rush to let go anytime soon.

...

...

Eventually, there was a sound. Quiet, impossible to hear if she hadn't been pressed right against him.

Horror was... Purring?

Even after taking a mental double take to confirm that it wasn't a sleep-deprivation induced hallucination, it still sounded exactly like it. It was a low rumble that vibrated somewhere deep inside his ribcage, enticingly calming, as if she was petting a cat twice her size. Or, getting petted by one, more accurately. And if she'd felt sleepy before... Well, listening to that quiet hum was like getting soothed by a lullaby.

The hug had already gone way past the unwritten social rule of what was an appropriate time to hug someone you'd never had a full conversation with, so it was simply easier to let go of concepts like ”time” or ”personal space” at this point. And whether it was intentional or not, he made it so incredibly easy – to relax, let go, close her eyes and savour the warmth and softness all around her...

...

Somewhere in the remaining conscious part of her mind, she realized that this was starting to look increasingly like she might be spending the rest of the night here, in Horror's room, in a bed that was way too small for him alone already. Talk about a cliché romance trope there.

But that wasn't what this was about. Not at all.

This was all about helping him.

”...thank you.”

It had taken an hour, but words were starting to come easier now to Horror. Whispered as quietly as he could to not wake her up.

”stay. just... stay here. shhh... just sleep. you're safe.”

Sweet nothings. He just wanted to talk to her. To tell her anything and everything he'd not been able to before.

Despite the fatigue, the fog in Horror's mind was starting to clear out, the memories of his most recent dream slowly fading. He no longer needed to hurt himself to make the pain go away. There was now something else, something better, that made forgetting so, so easy.

”i promise to keep you safe. i promise to... try.”

But he couldn't forget. Forgetting was dangerous. When he forgot, he would hurt people, he would lose himself, he would kill.

Humans.

He suffered because of a human. His friends died because of a human. His body would never recover from the damage done by years of starvation, abuse and injury, and having descended into instinct-driven madness, all from being left to rot in hell by a human.

So, after all that, how was it possible that he was now falling skull first for one?

But this one... Her body so small and soft against him, her hair smelling like vanilla, and her soul – oh stars, that call... Unconscious, unfiltered, grateful for the safety and comfort that he was providing. Declaring herself his from day one.

With all that, how could he not?

...

No... That wasn't right. Day one was the one he wished he'd forget. That was when he'd almost...

Horror grunted as his soul gave a painful throb at the memory.

He had joined the team because Nightmare had promised to keep Papyrus safe and healthy. In return, the deep-rooted anger and vengeange in Horror had been turned into a useful resource, his survival instincts trained to be at Nightmare's beck and call. Back then it had been a no brainer, an easy deal to agree to.

But the day she'd arrived to the castle, this settlement finally had its first real consequences.

They'd been to a mission with Killer. Horror had used his axe. He'd probably spiked afterwards, the details were hard to remember. The only thing he did remember from that point onwards, was seeing a human. The instinct had took over from there.

Killer, of all people, had been the one to save her. Gotten to her good side far quicker than he would've been able to do otherwise. From day one, she'd trusted the killer, and feared the butcher.

It had made Horror jealous.

Sure, Killer was effortlessly able to come up with jokes that made her roll her eyes. His less than subtle flirting was making her blush on the regular. And it wasn't like he was being secretive about what happened between him and ”his pet” behind closed doors, in fact he probably wouldn't mind the whole damn multiverse knowing about how nice grabbing her ass had felt like.

But those things weren't what really bothered Horror. After all, he could have his share later. He just needed to be patient.

What bothered him, was how much control Killer had over himself. He never attacked unless he wanted to, or unless he was provoked. It felt strange to admit, but he was the rational one in that sense. And since there was no reason for him to attack her, and near-suicidal provoking didn't seem to be in her nature either, it meant that Killer was easily able to wrap her around his phalanx and do exactly what he wanted with her. Controlled, calculated, slowly breaking through to her soul to manipulate it to his will. All according to the plan.

The plan. Put in motion by Nightmare.

Horror didn't agree with the plan, and even less so did Dust. But neither of them knew how to stop it just yet. Nightmare had saved both of them from their timelines after all, promising safety and expecting loyalty in return. The two weren't dumb enough to think that breaking a promise like that would come without consequences, especially as both of them had something on the line, something that they really didn't want as a stake for bad decision making.

For Dust, it was the human. For Horror, it was Papyrus. And the human.

So, Horror had made her monster candy. That was the least he could do for now.

...

The human herself was a mystery. She wasn't defenceless or weak (the knife-wide hole in Killer's hoodie insinuated as much), her soul had always been strong, kind and honest, meaning that there had to be some threats or promises in place preventing her from saying no to the plan. And no matter what Killer claimed, the determination she was running on was not of the power-hungry kind.

No... It seemed like the only thing her soul was determined to do was to make all three of them lose their stars-damned minds over her.

The first time Horror had felt it was on day two, as soon as he'd been lucid enough to listen. She'd come to the kitchen. Spoken to him. Of what, Horror had no idea. He'd barely heard any words over that irresistible call of her soul – cautious, but impossibly curious. He'd tried replying verbally, but the way his own soul had been working in overdrive to match her resonance had left his body unable to follow.

Heh, maybe he'd overdone it slightly, making her speechless in return... He couldn't really ask for a better compliment than that though, could he?

But it was the unnatural strength of that call that confused Horror the most. It couldn't be because of the purple bite mark at the back of her shoulder, that was the old-fashioned agreement, too primal and physical to reach her soul. So had Dust soul-bonded with her after all and that was the reason why Horror could feel the connection too? He could almost bet that even Killer could, no matter how much he was in denial about it. Killer had just decided to focus on the aspects that he still had control over, mainly the more... Physical ones. And well, since the human did seem to want him just as bad, Horror couldn't exactly blame Killer for indulging.

...Horror hadn't felt that from her yet. Then again, he deliberately hadn't provoked it either. Her presence was addicting enough as it was already, he didn't know what would happen if one day she decided to find his scarred and broken self attractive.

Well... He could guess what would happen. He'd lose control before he got to enjoy any of it. That was something he'd have to avoid for now. They needed to take things slowly, like she'd said. Though, it was a bit of a contradicting statement from her, considering that she was the one trusting someone who'd swung an axe at her enough to fall asleep on them...

Not that Horror was exactly complaining about the current state of things...

No... Not at all...

...

A couple of days ago, he'd tried asking about the bond. But Dust – heh, he and his stubborn self – had refused to elaborate. Interrogating the human was no use either, as her awareness of her soul would always be limited due to the nature of her species. Therefore, Horror was left with more questions than answers. Both of which were slowly starting to get blurred in his mind.

He was so, so tired. After being plagued by the same dream night after night, all he wanted was to let the warmth of her soul so close to his drag him under. But, no matter how he craved to, he couldn't fall asleep now. If he did, there was a good chance that he would forget, that the world around him would go dark and cold, that the barrier would trap him underground again. It always did during the night.

Her being here now, in his bed in the middle of the night, wasn't smart, to say the least. But it wasn't like Horror could wake her up and send her away either, that simply went against every instinct he ever had. But luckily, depriving himself of his basic needs was something he'd had plenty of experience in. He just needed to survive through another sleepless night. He had one more in him, he was sure of it.

He'd just have to stay awake.

...

To say that Horror was surprised of Dust's decision to trust him to be around a human in his unconscious state would be an understatement. It had been... Real optimistic of him. Or self-destructive. Only Dust knew the real reason.

Horror hadn't asked about his past. He'd had the whole argument with Killer about killing you-know-who way back when he'd joined, there wasn't really a point to go through with all that again. Dust probably had his reasons. Horror preferred not knowing. Besides, the fact that Dust kept having occasional conversations with someone that definitely wasn't himself insinuated that unlike Killer, Dust hadn't forgotten. He still cared. In a real twisted way, but he did.

So in return, Horror cared about Dust's feelings. A little bit.

But not enough to say no to this.

...

...

In her sleep, she sighed out a deep breath, her body melting even closer against him. One of her hands travelled from his shoulder, over his collarbone, continuing its way down, unintentionally tracing over each and every single rib of his. Slowly. Gently.

Horror's breath hitched. His bones were bruised, cracked, damaged beyond repair. But, oh... Touch like this was something he hadn't felt in a long...

Long...

Such a long time...

Even without her conscious intent... It still... Felt... So...

...

No...

Gritting his teeth, his hand grabbed her wrist, pushing it away. He might as well have turned down a full course meal in the middle of a famine with the way rejecting her touch made him feel.

It was gonna be one hell of a night.

...

...

It was a careful balancing act. He could let his gaze linger on the mark on her shoulder, but he couldn't act on his desire to add to the collection. He could touch, but not too much to arouse what was left of his magic – that was a whole other test for control that he was not ready for just yet.

Right now, he was lucid enough to keep her safe around him. But it was still way too early for Dust to send her here. Horror didn't know what kind of nightmares this version of him was suffering from (or whether he slept at all), but he could guess that Dust likely wasn't dreaming of freshly stained meat cleavers, or the sensation of teeth sinking into warm flesh.

Or, hell, maybe the latter wasn't that far off, considering that marking her apparently hadn't been a conscious decision by him either. The faint effects of healing magic use around the scar was proof that Dust had regretted his actions, aligning with what he'd told Horror about ”not remembering” the instance. But a mark like that wasn't exactly something that could be undone, or even properly healed. It wasn't a bond, but... The intention was similar enough. She was his.

And the reason for Dust's amnesia regarding the incident... Well, part of it was likely due to certain instincts of his being triggered – a Level of Violence high enough did mess with the ability to differenciate between certain urges after all. Couple that with EXP-deprivation, and suddenly the pain and pleasure, giving and taking, the cure for bloodlust and loneliness, they all become the same. A mark of commitment should be born out of love, not the acronym. No wonder Dust felt guilty about it.

At least she'd agreed to it. The scar would've faded otherwise.

And since she'd been the only one around in his Underground to release all those urges on, marks aside, she'd likely been lucky to get out of there alive and in one piece. After all, Horror knew first hand of the effects that a scent of blood as sweet as hers could have... Enough to make a guy go insane...

...

Ah. He caught himself slipping again.

Focus. Castle. There's food here. Keep Y/n safe.

Stay awake.

...

...

He would ask her out tomorrow.

Chapter Text

The next morning, she woke up at the goddamn ass crack of dawn. There was a lamp on in the corner, but even without any natural light or clocks around, the ache in her body informed her that this was definitely an unexpected, uncomfortable anomaly in her sleeping schedule.

Was she supposed to have training today? Earlier than usual? That was... Unlike Killer.

No... Today was her day off, wasn't it? And there weren't any alarms going off currently either...

Groggily, she blinked her eyes open. Right after the ”why am I awake” -kind of shock, came another.

Where was she?

The silky red curtains of her own bed weren't there to greet her like they'd done for the past couple of weeks. Instead, there was something else, something just as red, that was actively staring right at her.

Huh.

She stared back, blinking dumbly a few times as if the red eye would suddenly disappear and reality would take over. But it didn't. It was still there. She was still awake.

And so was he, it seemed.

Well then. Maybe this was progress. A huge, scary, not-an-axe-murderer was looming over her and watching her sleep, definitely a jumpscare-worthy sight, but she didn't even flinch. Sure, she didn't exactly get the comfortable 8-9 hours in last night, which could have an influence on her reaction speed...

Or maybe it was time to finally host a funeral to her survival instincts, because apparently whatever happened last night hadn't been just a dream. Nope, this confirmed that she'd indeed fallen asleep in Horror's bed, most likely on him, since she never remembered climbing off from his lap. Way to get to know someone. Great work there.

Embarrassment was quick to take over all other emotions.

”Oh... Uh, I-...”

She cleared her throat. God, that morning voice...

”...Sorry. Hi. Morning?”

Horror smiled down at her, his skull tilting.

”...mornin'.”

Well, at least they matched. He had a chronic case of morning voice.

Horror was holding a huge plate in his hand, carrying enough toast to feed three people. Though, he was pretty much the size of two, so maybe it wasn't that surprising. She remembered hearing from the others that he had somewhat of a thing for routine, waking up at stupid o'clock every day to prepare breakfast for everyone. This was the first time that she was seeing it in action though, as the only evidence of his behavior thus far had been the appearance of a plate by her door each morning, left sitting for long enough for the food to go cold. It was always still good though, as was everything he cooked.

She sat up on the bed, rubbing her eyes.

”Listen-... I'm sorry, I don't remember falling asleep, this is really not what was supposed to happen...”

She tried fixing her hair into a somewhat (not really) presentable state, and continued explaining herself.

”...And-, ugh, I'm so sorry for stealing your bed. I really didn't mean to. You probably weren't even able to get any sleep-”

”stop.” Horror interrupted her. Her mouth snapped shut in reflex, as if trained to do so. The tone wasn't the same one that Dust used when she was pushing things, but... There was still a good reason to be wary around Horror. She knew next to nothing about the guy after all.

Besides, she was still uninformed about what had actually happened last night. She hadn't done anything weird, had she? It wasn't like she'd been drunk or anything, but lack of sleep did have similar effects to being under the influence, possibly lowering her inhibitions...

...He hadn't done anything, right?

A quick body check told her that nothing was hurting, her clothes were as she remembered them being, everything seemed fine. There was a blanket wrapped comfortably around her, the one that had been rolled up into a ball the last time she'd seen it. Nothing seemed off.

Horror took a seat at the edge of the bed, placing the plate of toast in between the two.

”...stop sayin'... sorry. i asked ya to... stay.” He grumbled.

Oh, yeah. He did do that. She'd offered, he'd taken the opportunity. Though, she did have a suspicion that the plan might not have worked as intended after all, as there was no way in hell that the two of them could've fit in his bed without him crushing her in the process. He'd probably just gone to sleep on the couch instead.

But, just to make sure...

”Did it... Help?”

The brief chuckle that Horror responded with was all the answer she needed, making the guilt-flavoured embarrassement of hers return. She watched as he picked up a piece of toast from the plate, staring at it for a moment, before settling for pushing the entire plate closer towards her.

That got the message across. More eating, less speaking. And although having breakfast delivered to bed after a night like this did make her feel even more guilty, she couldn't help but notice how absolutely delicious the toast smelled. And she was feeling a bit hungry too...

Ah, to hell with it. If he wanted her to leave, he'd tell her, right?

Horror watched as she took a bite from the toast. A muffled approval from her brought a content smile on his face, before he turned his attention to his own piece, which was tossed right into his maw. She really tried to not stare, but there was something about watching him eat toast that just felt... Comforting. The red substance staining his teeth was just strawberry jam.

”What happened?” She finally asked, taking another bite.

Horror threw his second slice of bread in. He didn't chew. Nor did he swallow. But he was able to talk right afterwards. Guess it just disappeared into his mouth then. Monster stuff.

”just... the hug.” He paused for a moment, searching for the words. ”nothin'... weird. kept ya safe.”

She looked up at him. Replayed the words in her head for a few times.

That was... New. Had she finally found a skeleton that was able to communicate and respect her boundaries?

...

...

Much of the breakfast was shared in comfortable silence. Occasionally, she could see Horror glancing her way as she was mid-bite, before his attention focused on the plate again. The small movements of his phalanges indicated that he was counting something, as if he was keeping track of the contents of the plate.

One. Two. The meal was split in half, five pieces for each. One, two...

A third phalange lifted hesitantly. Horror stared at his hand for a moment, before tossing a piece of toast in his mouth. He rearranged the plate into three portions, three pieces for each. Three. Six. Nine. He paused again, now holding up two phalanges. Another piece was tossed in his mouth. One... Two. The meal was split in half again, one, two, three... Four for each. Eight.

She'd finished her first piece a moment ago, waiting for the right moment to go for another. Whatever he was doing obviously made sense only to him, but he looked invested enough that interrupting this process would've felt rude. Only when he seemed to snap out of this thought loop and get back to eating ”normally”, she deemed it appropriate to grab another piece and initiate some small talk.

”How's Papyrus doing?”

A warm smile spread on Horror's face.

”...good.”

Sure, his answers were always on the shorter side. But that didn't mean that he wasn't in the mood to talk. It was becoming somewhat of an instinct at this point, to wait until she was sure that he'd gotten each word out that he was intending to before continuing the conversation.

Horror paused his eating after his answer, focusing on fiddling with his phalanges again. The words came out hesitantly after a long moment of silence.

”do ya have... work? today?”

She shook her head before managing to swallow the piece she'd been chewing.

”Nah. Day off.”

Horror hummed in response, nodding slowly.

”any plans?”

She shrugged.

”Not really. Why?”

He was quiet for even longer after that, phalanges clicking against each other. From the outside, it might've looked like he was nervous about something, but most likely this was just another case of him needing some time to put his thoughts together.

So she waited.

...

'just say it. just ask. don't overthink it, that broken head of yours ain't good for that.'

'you had the whole night to plan for this and you're getting all tongue-tied now? seriously?'

'as if she'd want-'

'even if she doesn't agree, you can try again later. there will be a later, another day off, another chance. there... has to be.'

'do you really wanna wait and find that out, numbskull? sit here in silence until she gets bored of you? yeah, didn't think so.'

'so say it.'

'now.'

...

”would ya like to... meet him?”

Regular teleporting was apparently child's play compared to interdimensional portal magic, which of the castle's residents only Nightmare was proficient in. Any monster with an abnormally high magic reserve could theoretically initiate a shortcut, but none of the skeletons had ever put in the effort to fully learn the theory behind it. They had Nightmare for the job after all, so why should they?

Horror did have a good reason to – to be able to go in and out of his universe without Nightmare's assistance – but certain things insinuated that the control he had over his magic seemed to be on a slightly different level compared to the other two. He used a physical weapon, instead of magic ones. She'd never seen him teleport. He didn't have an aura of magic surrounding him. His eye was glowing red, but something about it seemed... Off. But it wasn't like a possible lack of magic seemed to be holding him back, as he was definitely making up for it with his raw physical strength. Another thing that the skeletons did not have in common.

In any case, this meant that a trip to Horror's universe couldn't happen without the whole ”asking for a day off from your boss” -discussion. The whole thing seemed weirdly mundane, an absurd enough situation to get some giggles out of her. Walking into the office with a serial murderer to ask for a day off to hang out with his brother. Yeah, sooo normal.

They'd gotten the green light. She was beyond excited, practically jumping up and down in joy, matching the energy that she'd responded with when Horror had suggested the whole thing. Well, maybe she'd overdone it juuust a bit this time, just to see him flustered again, to make that faint blue blush coat his cheekbones once more – a visible proof that he did have some amount of magic flowing through his bones.

It had worked.

But she didn't have to fake her enthusiasm much. She was going to get out of the castle after all, for something other than murder for once. An actual day off, almost like a vacation. A change of scenery, long overdue at this point. Not only that, but she was also going to finally meet a version of this mysterious ”Papyrus” that she'd heard so much about. Well, she had ”met” one already, only in... Very different circumstances.

And, she'd also get to spend some more time getting to know Horror, the skeleton who was steadily gaining friendship points and slowly but surely replacing every bad memory with him for a better one. It felt like a fresh start.

There was just one problem.

However excited she was, another multidimensional shortcut wasn't something that she was exactly looking forward to going through again. Apparently the ”boost” in her LV was supposed to make things easier, but that didn't mean that the next few minutes spent inside the void were going to be comfortable.

...

...

Both of them waited patiently as the portal materialized in front of them. A familiar, seemingly endless abyss of non-matter greeted them.

Sensing her hesitation, Horror reached and grabbed a hold of her hand, phalanges interlocking with her fingers.

”you'll be... okay.”

She sighed, squeezing his hand for comfort.

”Yeah, I know. But I might pass out. Again.”

Horror hummed in understanding. Briefly, he glanced at the portal. Then back to her.

Suddenly, the floor disappeared from under her feet. With an inhumanly effortless movement, Horror had grabbed her body and positioned her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the fur of his hood cushioning her stomach as his arm wrapped around her legs and pinned them in place.

Ooookay then. He really had a habit of tossing her around like a ragdoll, huh? Sure, it was probably a somewhat necessary safety measure this time but... Damn.

”W-well. I guess this... Works.” She spoke, trying to cling to the back of his hoodie as a weak attempt to support herself even a little bit. She vaguely remembered being in this position before – it was similar to how Killer would hold her when she'd kept passing out during her ”shortcut training”, and technically it was possible that that's where Horror got the idea from, the thought making it feel slightly less... Demeaning.

Horror chuckled, patting the back of her thighs affectionately. He clearly found the situation amusing.

”ready?”

If she was being totally honest, no. Never for this. But luckily Horror felt sturdy like a brick wall. Most likely it would still suck, but at least she knew that she would be in safe hands.

She gave him the go-ahead, grabbing a firm hold of the back of his hoodie. His grip on her legs tightened in response, making any attempts at fleeing impossible. Not that she would have a reason to, the void didn't feel all that inviting to jump blindly into...

Also... Getting carried around like this by him wasn't exactly the most uncomfortable position to be in either, now that she thought about it...

...

Focus. What were the rules again?

Deep breath in. Hold it.

Shut your eyes. Don't think about the void.

Don't think about him carrying you on his shoulder like a piece of meat, like freshly caught prey.

Chapter Text

For the second time today, she regained consciousness not having a clue where the hell she was. One fact that was obvious from the get go though, was that whatever she was lying on definitely wasn't a bed this time.

Everything was... Bouncing. There was something hard digging into her stomach. The air smelled like wet moss and cold fog. She could barely move, not only due to the lightheaded feeling after losing consciousness, but also due to being physically restricted by something, only her hands and upper body remaining in her control.

She opened her eyes, and lifted her gaze up as much as the position allowed. Trees were passing by at an alarming speed, travelling... Backwards?

Trees? Since when had there been trees around?

”Nh-... Wh-... What's happening..?” She slurred out.

Hearing no answer from her captor, she tried to refocus her senses. There was something cold travelling down her face, the faint sound of heavy footsteps crushing some soggy leaves on the ground, and...

Oh...

It was raining.

Actual, real life raindrops coming from the dark clouds on the sky, not just condensed water dripping down from the ceiling of an underground cavern. The forest was drinking in the hydration, excess water rolling off the leaves to be absorbed into the ground. The biggest damp patch on her shirt was starting to stick to her skin, making some goosebumps rise on her arms.

The reaction was severely delayed, but the reality of the situation was slowly starting to sink in. The trip to Horror's universe (an AU in the triple digits, faaar from Nightmare's) had caused yet another blackout, as expected. She was still lying on Horror's shoulder, the top of his scapula pressing into her stomach as he ran. For a monster so big, it was almost scary how quiet he was. Just like an experienced hunter – fast, agile and invisible when it was required, contrasting the primal fear that he induced in those he wanted dead.

Why was he running? Where were they going? Were they in danger?

He hadn't forgotten again, had he?

”Horror?” She tried getting his attention again, tapping the back of his ribs for emphasis.

No answer. She tried turning in his grip enough to see the direction they were going, but just then he came to a stop. There was a sound of a door opening and she was brought inside, the intensifying rainfall now hitting a metal roof instead of her skin. From what she could see, the place they'd arrived to was a small room with wooden walls, almost like a garden workshop -feel to it.

Horror was breathing heavily, still non-verbal. There was a faint rumbly sound of thunder in the distance. The way he held her down allowed little to no movement, and most of what she could see behind her from this angle was just blue hoodie fabric. Dropping her gaze, on the floorboards she could see the remains of old, muddy footsteps and some dried... Red... Stains...

”Uh... Horror?” She asked, now with an undertone of trepidation in her voice. ”Put me down? Please?”

...

She had passed out. Gone limp. Rain had been pouring down. She would have gotten cold. Horror had panicked. He'd wanted to protect her, keep her safe. This had been the closest available place for shelter. Of course he would he bring her here, of all places... Stupid, stupid, stupid...

Put her down? While the ugly truth of his past was fully on display before them?

”...no.”

It was the wrong answer. Horror could feel her body tense, her breathing coming to a halt. She tried turning around again, but his free hand came up quickly against her back as a reflex to stop her from being able to move. The action knocked the wind out of her, as her chest was being pressed firmly against the back of his ribs. He was being too rough with her. But if she turned around, she'd see everything. If she'd see, she'd never let him hold her again. He didn't want that to happen.

But... Judging by her struggling, pinning her down against him was another wrong answer. What was the right one? He couldn't take her back out in the rain, the cabin was still some ways ahead, maybe he could just hold her until the storm passed-

”Horror. Listen to me. Can you talk?”

Words. She needed his words.

He tried to reply, but the only thing that came out from his mouth was an indecipherable grunt. Why wouldn't his mind just shut up, make sense, focus for once-

”Where are we?”

He could answer questions. Simple ones.

”...shed.”

”Why?”

”safe. no rain.”

Horror stared at the wall ahead of him, his gaze travelling over each and every single item arranged in the familiar order. Axes on the left, four out of five of them, two cleavers in the middle, a couple of saws on the right. Ropes and chains in a box on the ground, next to it a cage for keeping the smaller animals in, currently a storage container for the beartraps.

None of the tools had been used since arriving to the surface. They had food. There was always enough of it. They were... Not healthy by any means, but surviving. Doing better. Recovering. But still, Horror had kept every single one of his items. Definitely not for the reminder, his body was enough proof of the hell that he'd gone through... No, it was the fear of their safety being taken away that hadn't allowed him to get rid of his tools, all stained with old, rusty blood.

And she... She definitely didn't need to see any of this either. He'd wanted to show her the stars, not a sky blocked by rainclouds and a bunch of weapons used to cut sweet things like her open. He'd messed it all up again.

”Can you please put me down?”

He could. He probably should.

But he didn't want to. He knew what would happen if he did.

Sighing, Horror loosened his grip and grabbed her waist to set her back down, as gently as his hands allowed. He held her for a few seconds, just to see that her legs were stable enough to carry her on their own, while doing his best to avoid meeting her gaze, not wanting the look of fear in her eyes be last thing he'd remember of her.

The door was left open, she would be able to flee as soon as she needed to. He wouldn't stop her, or try to run after her. There was a whole safe universe out there, she was a kind, pretty girl, someone would be able to offer her a place to stay. She would be fine.

Sure, Dust would kill Horror as soon as he returned to the castle, but that was an issue for later.

He released his hold and stepped back, leaning against the wall and stuffing his hands in his pockets, giving her space. His gaze was locked to her shoes as she turned around. The seconds ticked, as Horror waited for the inevitable. A gasp, a scream, a frantic attempt to escape, like he'd seen countless times before.

But... It took a while. Maybe she was frozen in a silent shock? That happened too sometimes. Those were the effortless kills, the easy ones. Had she reacted like that when he'd attacked her? He couldn't remember hearing her scream so she must've, poor thing...

...

The rain kept banging on the roof, tempting her to step out the door to hopefully see a lightning strike.

A murder shed, huh? Of course he had one. The place was surprisingly clean though, there wasn't a smell of death or rotting flesh, and every item seemed to be stacked neatly as if put away to storage. None of the bloodstains on the weapons looked fresh either.

Another crack of thunder echoed from outside, even closer now. Walking out the door, the feeling of raindrops splattering against her skin brought a smile to her face. It had just been so long since she'd got to experience nature, real weather, not just the strange pseudo-weather that the Underground had possessed. It made her feel so alive, like a giddy child running around in puddles and not having a care in the world that her only available set of clothes was getting absolutely soaked.

And there it was. A flash on the sky lit up the entire forest around her for a split second.

”Horror! Listen!”

She counted for one... Two... Three... Four... Five... Before the rumbly sound of thunder followed.

”Six seconds! How far is that? It's like... A little over a mile, right?”

Turning her gaze back towards the shed, she could see Horror ducking his skull slightly as he stepped out through the doorway. To say that he looked surprised seeing her standing out in the pouring rain would've been an understatement, he looked more like his nonexistant brain had short-cirquited and was currently in the process of booting itself back up.

Did he think humans would dissolve in water of something? Or did he really think that his collection of butcher tools would be enough to scare her away? Think again, big guy.

”How far is your house? I don't mind walking in the rain.”

The rain had began to subside, only a light drizzle remaining as the two of them reached their destination. Her shirt was soaked and she was shivering slightly, probably looking like she'd had a cold shower with all her clothes on. Not exactly the way she would've liked to be introduced to Horror's brother as, but... Honestly, it had been worth it. After all, who knew when she'd get to have a day off like this again and whether a sudden thunderstorm would coincide with it?

The house was nothing fancy, it looked more like a once abandoned cottage that had been renovated to meet living conditions. Two stories, a skeleton flag on the roof (huh, that looked familiar), lights peeking behind the curtains, overall hosting a cozy and calm athmosphere to it.

For about 10 seconds.

As they reached the porch, the front door suddenly swung open with such force that it was a miracle that the whole thing didn't jump off its hinges. The cause behind her minor heart attack was standing in the doorway, tall, so tall, somehow even taller than-

”SANS!!!”

And, oh wow, so loud.

The new skeleton practically leaped from the doorway to trap his brother in a bear hug, and she watched in utter disbelief as he was able to lift Horror a foot off the ground as if he weighed nothing. Ha, him being in the receiving end for once, how the tables have turned...

”YOU HAVE LOST APPROXIMATELY TWO AND A HALF POUNDS SINCE YOUR LAST VISIT! DO I NEED TO HAVE A DISCUSSION WITH YOUR SUPERIOR ABOUT THIS?”

”nah, paps... just gotten... carried away lately...” Horror mumbled into Papyrus's shirt that seemed to be in the process of suffocating him.

”I WILL BE CARRYING YOU AWAY TO THE NEAREST RIVER IF YOU DARE TO ASSAULT MY EAR-HOLES WITH ANOTHER-”

”...didn't mean to... weigh ya down... heheh...”

”UGH!!”

Oh, the brotherly love between the two of them was palpable.

During their walk to the house, Horror had asked her to call him by his ”real name” around his brother. Apparently Papyrus wasn't familiar with the nickname that had been given to him, and Horror preferred to keep it that way. This was also his universe, only one of him around, no need to differenciate between multiple versions. Now that she thought about it, the name Horror didn't really even suit him anymore, it felt more like a name given for shock factor more than anything else. Unlike hers – the fact was yet again proven when she'd asked in return whether he knew of the name that Killer had given her. Horror's only reply had been a deep chuckle and a muttered ”sweetheart”, punctuated with his hand petting her wet hair. Yeah, not much shock factor there.

The tall, taller, tallest skeleton suddenly seemed to notice her presence, and set his brother back down on the porch somewhat unceremoniously. He then bent himself way down to reach her eye level and narrowed his sockets, as if he wasn't able to determine what kind of creature his brother had brought into the house. After a moment of mutual staring, his gaze flicked back to Horror.

”SANS..?” Papyrus asked, his voice significantly lower in volume as he glared at his brother suspiciously. ”WHY ARE YOU BRINGING A HUMAN TO OUR HOME..?”

Horror seemed to visibly perk up at the words, his hand suddenly grabbing a possessive hold of her wrist.

”it's-... she's not-...” He stuttered.

Papyrus set his hands on Horror's shoulders and leaned down to meet his gaze. His voice came out even quieter now, almost whispering, as if he was telling a secret that she wasn't supposed to hear. Safe to say, the attempt was not successful.

”Sans, We Never Did That, Remember?”

...

Wait, what?

Horror blinked, his jaw clenched tight, unable to come up with a reply. The grip he had on her wrist tightened, bordering on being painful.

Papyrus sighed, his browbone furrowed in concern.

”Have You Been Having Those Dreams Again?”

...

Alright. The topic they were discussing wasn't exactly hard to guess. But Papyrus's words had put a big old plot twist to the whole story just now. Was he in denial? Did he not know? Or did he not remember it happening? All options seemed equally concerning. Or was Horror the one who didn't remember? Had the thing even happened in the first place?

Really? The thing? Maybe she was the one in denial here, her inner voice not being able to address the topic by its real name. The thing, of course, being the whole human eating... Thing... Just something to be swept under the metaphorical rug just like Horror's shed, tools, axes, and the ease with which he was able to decapitate a person.

Just like that. Easy.

Right?

Hearing no reply, Papyrus sighed, releasing his hold on Horror. He then turned back to her again, just in time for her to quickly force a smile on her face that she hoped looked genuine enough. Ending the tense moment, Papyrus took on his towering pose again and cleared his throat as if merely for the dramatic effect.

”SO, SANS, WHO DO I HAVE THE PLEASURE TO INTRODUCE OUR COOL SURFACE HOME TO?”

The forced change of topic couldn't have been more obvious.

Horror seemed to finally notice the death-grip he had on her wrist and quickly withdrew his hand, bringing it up to scratch the back of his skull nervously.

”uh, yeah... this is... y/n. r'member i told ya 'bout-”

”OH! YOUR MATE!”

...

What.

Could he stop dropping bombs like that on her out of nowhere?

Horror seemed to go just as speechless by the comment. More accurately he didn't get a chance to explain himself as Papyrus suddenly grabbed her hand in both of his, shaking with an intensity that could've easily dislocated some joints if he'd been any more excited about the action.

”OH WOWIE, IT IS WONDERFUL TO FINALLY MEET YOU HUMAN!! SANS HERE HAS BEEN TELLING ME A LOT ABOUT YOU, SPECIFICALLY ABOUT YOUR PREFERENCES FOR HOMEMADE FOOD AND YOUR TERRIBLE SLEEPING SCHEDULE!”

”Oh...” He wasn't gonna stop shaking her hand anytime soon, was he... ”I-it's nice to meet you too, Papyrus!”

”YOU... YOU KNOW MY NAME?” His gaze flicked to Horror, and she swore she could see his eyelights sparkle for a moment, the expression of pure joy on his face enough to lit up the darkest room. ”THAT CAN ONLY MEAN THAT THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS REACHED YET ANOTHER LEVEL OF POPULARITY, NOW EXTENDING TO MULTIPLE DIMENSIONS! NYEHEHEHEHEH!!”

Unfortunately, the enthusiasm of his handshake only intensified.

”Y-yeah! That's right!”

She glanced briefly at Horror for help. He chuckled, clearly amused by the whole exchange, but he did eventually place his hand on Papyrus's arm, which seemed to do the trick of snapping him back to reality. Papyrus stilled, still holding her hand while leaning forwards slightly and doing another thorough double-take on her. His gaze travelled from her hair, to her clothes, to her shoes, all the while squinting his sockets. One thing was becoming obvious, he was definitely suffering from some kind of sight-related disability.

”SANS? WHY IS THE HUMAN WET?”

Ah. He's blunt, too. Noted.

Horror smiled, draping an arm around her waist and pulling her against his side.

”heh... think she's just a bit... under the weather...” He chuckled, rubbing his hand over her wet shirt, making it stick to the skin even more. But she couldn't help but smile at the pun and lean into his warm touch a little bit. It felt... Nice.

Papyrus groaned in reply, physically yanking the two of them inside the cabin.

”YOUR WEATHER-RELATED PUNS ARE NOT HELPFUL! YOU WILL GET HER SOME DRY CLOTHES IMMEDIATELY, I WILL PREPARE THE SPAGHETTI IN THE MEANTIME!”

The human had been brought inside. She was safe, Papyrus was safe, everything was okay. She hadn't tried to escape, she wasn't going to run away from him. It had taken Horror the full 10 minute walk to the cabin to stick this information into his thick, stubborn skull.

It felt strange for Horror to call a place that existed in his universe safe, let alone it being a place that a human like herself would willingly want to visit. Hell, safe or not, the air here reeked of death. Like a wet graveyard. Horror hated his universe. But his universe was making her happy. It was making her smile, and there had been a barely uncontained look of excitement in her eyes whenever she'd seen a bolt of lightning strike.

He'd succeeded in his goal. A day off. A vacation. A safe place. That was what he'd wanted to give to her, similarly to what was keeping him sane too, to contrast everything that was happening in the castle and in the countless universes they'd corrupted.

He couldn't do anything to stop Nightmare's plan. But he could cook for her, keep her fed and healthy, he could bring her here to his hideout anytime she wanted.

He could make her happy.

She was already getting along with Papyrus. The lack of stars didn't bother her. She liked the rain. She'd seen his shed, his tools, shrugged it off like it was nothing. And maybe it would have been relieving, if that relief wasn't coated with a layer of concern.

Whatever anomaly in her soul was making her so comfortable with all this... It wasn't normal. Maybe she'd been lucky enough to get away with it with the others, but her trust extending to Horror too might get both of them in big trouble if she wasn't careful. Unlike the others, he was fighting a constant battle against his instincts to try to keep her at an arm's length. Mostly metaphorically, as touching was now allowed.

And he liked touching her. A lot.

But what made things difficult, was that ”being careful” seemed to not be her thing at all. In fact, she was doing the exact opposite.

...

...

Horror had taken her to his room upstairs. He'd dug through his closet to find her some clothes to borrow. He'd found his warmest hoodie, one that he used to wear a lot during the power shortages Underground, way too big to fit her comfortably but it was all he had to offer for now.

He'd hesitated. Taken a deep breath, only to realize that the shirt smelled like... Him. It had struck to him then what a bad idea this was, on so many levels. But he would never hear the end of it from Papyrus if he let her walk around the house in wet clothes either, humans could get cold and sick from that, he couldn't let that happen...

So, he'd decided to turn back to her, hoodie in hand. And that was when time had stopped. Everything had become a blur.

Did she really think that taking off her wet shirt in front of him was a good idea? That he would be able to think straight with so much of her soft skin suddenly exposed? Arms, shoulders, neck – just like last night – but now also her stomach, and the curves on her chest with that pretty piece of fabric just about covering-

”You found one?”

Her voice was the only thing that was able to snap Horror back into reality, forcing him to avert his gaze and focus on the wall to get a hold of himself. He should've walked away right then and there – stars, if he could've still teleported, anywhere to not have to do the impossible and force himself to stay away, to not look, to not touch...

But... He did have one thing on his side at least. His magic was always slow to catch up. Maybe he could stay for just a bit longer...

There wasn't much conscious thought that went into his next course of actions. Horror's gaze returned to meet hers, and he extended his arm to offer the shirt to her – more excited to cover her in his scent than he was willing to admit to himself. He let his gaze drop lower as she started fitting his hoodie around her shivering body, and he quickly found himself fascinated with certain effects that the cold seemed to have on a human body. And maybe he could convince himself that the reason he kept looking was to just prepare himself for later, to memorize what he'd be in for when he'd finally get to have her alone and undress her himself-

...

Shit. No. Nonono.

Turn around.

Walk away.

Now.

...

The faintest spark of magic travelling through his bones had sobered him up quicker than anything else could've. With the last bit of his control, Horror was able to leave her in his room by herself. He walked downstairs, ignoring Papyrus's quips about him looking extra grumpy today, and stepped out the door.

He needed to go for a walk. A long one.

Chapter Text

”REALLY!? HUMANS COOK THEIR SPAGHETTI UNTIL IT'S ALL SOFT AND NOODLY??”

”Uh... Yeah? We do? I can, uh-... Show you, if you'd like...”

There were a few reasons why she decided to offer to help Papyrus with his cooking. First of all, it was just a fun bonding activity, and since Horror seemed to have disappeared from the cabin for some time now, she'd been left with nothing worthwhile to do. Second, even though the change of shirt and socks did help to recover some of her body heat, the inside of the cabin was still cold, even colder than Horror's room in the castle. And as the kitchen was currently the warmest area with the stovetop doubling as a radiator, she was naturally drawn towards it.

But most importantly, it was the sight of Papyrus trying to make spaghetti sauce out of crushed, raw onions that forced her to politely step in. If she was to eat this food after all, she wanted it to be at least edible enough to avoid any awkward moments during dinnertime.

The decision turned out to be a good one. What she had hoped to be just an eyesight-related issue (it was technically possible to confuse tomatoes with onions, right?) was actually just Papyrus being creative with his cooking. Damn, she must've been close to starvation back in the Underground if this was what she'd determined edible at Dust's place, back at the spaghetti house.

But even though his cooking skills sucked, to put it mildly, she still enjoyed Papyrus's company. He was definitely a character, and by no means any more sane than the others, but there was something about his presence that brought a nice chance in athmosphere compared to her ”normal” day to day life. Maybe it was that little brother -energy. Maybe it was the sudden possibility of a platonic friendship, yet another thing that she hadn't gotten to experience in a while. Never with Dust. Neither Killer. Whatever she had with the two of them was just way too far gone for that.

How about Horror? The one skeleton that she could sleep comfortably on and not have to worry about anything weird happening?

Where was he anyways?

”Hey, where's H-...”

Oops, you're not in the castle now.

”...Uh, do you know where Sans went?”

Sans. Sans the skeleton. Ha, nice rhyming. Suits him.

A dramatic sigh preceded Papyrus's monologue.

”MY BROTHER DECIDED TO WALK OUT THE DOOR, MUMBLING SOMETHING ABOUT FIREWOOD, BUT CONSIDERING THE AMOUNT OF TIME NEEDED TO FINISH A TASK LIKE THAT I WOULD ASSUME THAT HE EITHER FORGOT ABOUT WHAT HE WAS DOING, OR IS USING THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO LAZE AROUND AS USUAL, OR HE MIGHT HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY, THIS NOT BEING A RARE OCCURENCE CONSIDERING HIS UNWILLINGNESS TO TAKE CARE OF THE STATE OF HIS SLEEPING SCHEDULE, CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT HE ONCE EVEN REQUESTED DELAYING BREAKFAST IN ORDER TO-...”

He kept talking. Apparently once he got going, there wasn't much to do to stop him. But in all honesty, it was endearing, and if it kept him from destroying the kitchen and the food along with it, she would happily listen.

Talking about sleeping though...

She yawned. The consequences of last night's sleepover adventures were starting to make themselves known at an increasing rate as the day progressed. And it wasn't like Papyrus was exactly the most relaxing presence to be around either, no matter how she was growing to like him and his enthusiam.

Dinner and a nap. That sounded like a good plan, right?

Papyrus watched mesmerized as she continued stirring the pot of pasta, wringing his hands together in excitement. Oh, and he also broke the silence, meaning that he'd stopped talking for a few seconds at some point.

”SHOULD I ADD THE GLITTER NOW OR LATER?”

Add what now?

”Uh... Edible glitter, I'm assuming?”

Papyrus dug through a nearby closet and only responded with a ”TA-DAH!”, dropping off three different coloured bags of glitter on the kitchen counter. Not the edible kind.

”Oh...” Her hand stirring the pot froze, as she carefully considered her next words. ”Uh, let's add it later? That way everyone can, uh... Decide how much glitter they want on their portion, okay?”

”WOWIE! YOU'RE A SMART HUMAN! THE AMOUNT OF GLITTER SHALL BE DETERMINED LATER!” Papyrus announced, holding a finger up for the dramatic effect.

Whew. Crisis averted. Maybe it was a good thing Nightmare had wanted Horror for the team instead of his brother...

...

...

The spaghetti had been cooked (to a softness acceptable to human standards), the sauce was good to go (not burned, the amount of tomatoes exceeding that of the few crushed onions), and the bags of glitter waited for their turn on the counter. In other words, dinner was ready. But as the two of them were rationing out portions for three (similarly to how Horror had done this morning, interestingly), the task was interrupted by a familiar 8-bit melody coming from Papyrus's... Pocket? Did his armor-shirt have pockets or was this another ”monster thing”?

(Spooky scary skeletons. Of course.)

It only took him a few seconds to determine the phone call important enough to proceed to down the contents of his own place in one go and throw some glitter in to wash it down, before bolting out the door, all the while exclaiming something about ”guard duties”. She barely managed to wave him a ”bye” and a ”see you later”, before he was gone.

Well, at least the whole glitter-situation wasn't a problem anymore.

Now that she had the first moment of peace and quiet in what must've been an hour, she could hear a faint sound coming from the living room. Poking her head out, she could see Horror slumped on the couch, sockets closed, his ribs rising and falling in time with his soft snoring.

Fast asleep, apparently. How long had he been there?

She walked over to him, yawning again purely from the idea of sleeping at this point. There was a pile of logs on the ground next to the fireplace which insinuated that Horror had indeed gone out to get some, though the task had been left unfinished, the living room remaining just as cold as before. Poor boy, he must be exhausted, his nightmares causing all those restless nights, and even the previous one not being that much of a remedy... Yeah, as if she needed another reason to not wake him up for dinner right now.

Besides...

Dinner and a nap... Hmm...

A nap and then a dinner? Sounds good enough.

The way Horror was half-sitting-half-lying on the couch left more than enough room for two. And just like last night, he looked so comfy, almost like soft pile of blankets, and what was even more tempting was that he was the only available heat source in the house currently...

He wouldn't mind, right?

She sat down on the couch next to him, tucking her knees close to her chest. Carefully, she leaned against Horror's side, searching for any signs of rejection or discomfort in his expression. Finding none, she rested her head against his shoulder, breathing deep, and closed her eyes.

Calmness. Warmth. Safety.

It was easy to melt into his lap again and let sleep take over.

Tick.

...

One second, Horror had been out gathering firewood. The next, he had found himself on the couch after a promise he'd made to himself, to allow himself to rest for a few minutes, to recover enough energy to get him through the rest of the day, trusting Papyrus to wake him up for dinner eventually.

The fatigue that had been building up for several rough nights had quickly won the battle. One second, he'd been in the cabin, the smell of spaghetti sauce lingering in the air, the unmistakeable voice of Papyrus echoing from across the house. That was when he'd remembered. His brother and the human had been preparing a dinner for three, he had eaten his latest snack one and a half hours ago, he wasn't hungry.

But right as his sockets had fluttered shut...

Tick. One second.

He was back Underground. Back in Snowdin. Back in hell.

Dark caverns. No light. Snow covering the ground. No heating. No power.

Cold. Hungry. No food. Always hungry.

Tick. Another second passed.

Was there something that he needed to remember? Something about... Spaghetti sauce... Cabin...

A couch? That made sense. He'd fallen asleep on the couch, probably watching some subpar reality tv again. Sticky notes on a sock. Sprinkles on a pet rock. Everything was okay. He was safe, alone, here in the...

...

Tick.

...

Where was he?

Underground. Snowdin. That's right. Most likely in the middle of a hunt.

He barely felt the cold anymore. Over the years, his body had adapted, the remnants of his magic focused on keeping his body warm enough to survive the freezing temperatures. His vision, the eye in his skull had also grown used to the dark over the years, effectively granting him quite an impressive night vision. But despite that, the forest was foggy today. Not ideal for maximising the success rate of what he needed to do.

With his eyesight unreliable, he decided to focus on listening instead.

Eventually his patience rewarded him, as a quiet noise broke the heavy silence of the forest. It sounded familiar, something that his own gut would make when he'd been without a bite for weeks.

But this time, the sound hadn't come from him.

Had he caught something?

...

Horror's hands found their place on her waist, squeezing briefly, before his phalanges slipped under the hoodie she was wearing, digging into the skin slightly.

She didn't stir.

...

Huh.

Another starving thing, right in his arms. Bigger than a rabbit, smaller than a deer. Still got some meat on its bones too by the feel of it, must've fallen recently. With careful rationing, this would last the two of them for at least a few weeks.

Where was he again? His shed couldn't be too far, right?

Which direction did he come from? Why was there no footsteps in the snow? Why couldn't he recognize the trees here?

...Where was he?

He wasn't going insane, he couldn't, he needed to survive. For Paps.

He was trapped Underground. He remembered that much. The kid had left them to die.

There was no food. There was no Y/n.

...

...

'...y/n?'

Who-...

He couldn't... Remember...

Only... He felt... Like there was something that he was forgetting again...

...

Horror's grip on her tightened. He leaned his skull closer, making contact with unbroken skin. His face nuzzled against her neck and he breathed her scent in deep, exhaling with a low groan.

...

Oh...

He remembered now.

His sweetest treat... Caught in his trap like a poor little mouse. She wasn't struggling, not fighting back, not trying to flee from him, she'd already surrendered. Or, considering how limp her body felt, he must've already strangled her unconscious to make his job easier. That was... A shame. But he couldn't really blame himself, could he? The pretty little thing just always looked a bit too sweet for her own good. A dangerous feat in a world like this.

But from now on, he wouldn't let anyone hurt her. She would be safe with him. He would keep her, take care of her, lock her away in his shed and feed her, just as soon as he managed to catch something else.

...

No, that wasn't right.

There was never enough food for two down here. Let alone three. Sans could go a little longer without, but... His human was starving. His brother was starving. Which one was he supposed to care for?

He couldn't remember. The hunger was starting to have that effect on everyone. And if humans kept falling down like autumn leaves, someone was bound to cross the unspoken boundary eventually. Consumed by their insanity, someone would eventually go for a human, or one of their own. That is if they already hadn't, and those who claimed their innocence were only still kicking because of a well kept secret.

Still, Sans hadn't gone that far, he hadn't gone insane yet.

He hadn't, right?

What was he doing again? Was forgetting a sign of insanity?

...

He took another deep breath in.

The human smelled so.

Damn.

Good.

Her taste had to match.

...

...

Would she mind?

Would she mind if he reached out with his tongue, pressed it against the soft skin, dragged it up and followed the pulsing veins on her neck, would she mind if he told her how intoxicating her taste was, how soft her skin felt everywhere he touched, how he wanted to taste more of it, make little marks all over, how his soul was thudding in his chest for her, how her blood was calling to him, how he could hear those sweet whispers begging for him to sink his teeth into her, to bite her, mark her, make her his, so that she would never leave

...

...

...

Tick.

”...-ake up.”

She blinked her eyes open, nearly going cross-eyed trying to focus her gaze on what looked like a fork in front of her face. Briefly, she met a familiar red eye, before she tried moving out of the utensil's way, the attempt in vain as it only followed wherever she tried to dodge.

”you're hungry. eat.” Horror spoke with a voice that left no room for discussion, the fork in his hand moving even closer to her mouth, some tomato sauce dripping onto the blanket covering her chest.

Once the uncomfortable feeling of having been woken up from yet another unsatisfying amount of sleep passed, she noticed that Horror was right – she was hungry. Briefly she wondered whether monster senses could detect that somehow, before her stomach made a small grumble. Maybe there was no need for superhuman abilities to figure it out after all.

Horror's expression visibly twitched at the sound, before he decided to insistently prod her mouth open with the twirled spaghetti, eventually succeeding in his attempt to feed her the first forkful. Only the first, she tried to reason, before the utensil returned with more food as soon as she managed to swallow the previous portion. She gazed up at Horror, the unspoken question of ”really?” hanging in the air, but the fork in front of her face didn't budge.

Guess this was happening then. But maybe for now it was easier to go with what he wanted and not argue back, as food did seem to be somewhat of a sensitive subject to him. Another note for the skeleton rulebook; eat when Horror tells you to.

Only after he had wordlessly fed her half of the portion, Horror deemed it acceptable to allow her to finish the rest of it herself. He visited the kitchen briefly to retrieve his own portion, and sat back down on the couch, plate in hand.

The now lit fireplace crackled, adding to the warmth that Horror's hoodie and the newly appeared blanket around her were providing. Judging by an actual clock on the wall (for once), she'd been asleep for approximately...

Oh shit, two hours? No wonder waking up felt difficult.

At least Horror seemed to look a bit better this time. The bags under his sockets were slightly less visible, the colour of his bone back to a dull ivory instead of almost a sickly faint grey, insinuating that he had finally been able to get some sleep as well. And again, apart from the skin of her neck feeling a bit itchy (probably from hoodie fur, if that fur was made of something electric), there was nothing that rose any concerns about whether sleeping in Horror's presence was something to be worried about. She really was safe around him.

But something was clearly bothering him. He was not eating. He'd been staring at his plate for several minutes.

The situation seemed familiar somehow.

”Um... Papyrus said he had somewhere to be, he left while you were sleeping...” She tried reassuring him. ”...He ate his own portion already.”

'It's okay for you to eat. No need to save food for others. Was that what he wanted to hear?'

Hearing no reply, she decided to not press the subject, and continued with her meal instead. The spaghetti was good. A little salty, due to mistakenly handing the salt shaker to Papyrus at one point, and the crushed onions tasted a bit weird as well, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. At least she'd been there to observe it being made, so she could count on everything on the plate being suitable for a human metabolism-

”...once.”

Horror had been quiet for so long, that him suddenly breaking the silence managed to startle her slightly. She looked up to see that he was staring at his still untouched plate, his grip on the fork definitely firmer than it needed to be.

”i did it... once.”

It? As in... The thing?

She sat up a bit straighter on the couch, unexpectedly preparing to switch into therapist-mode again.

”Do you wanna talk about it?”

A wave of panic had overtaken Horror's body the second he'd woken up. The human had ended up falling asleep in his lap again, this time with both of them unconscious. His hands had been gripping bare skin under the hoodie that she was wearing, his face pressed into the junction between her neck and shoulder. But even after he'd let go of her and resorted to walking in nervous circles around the living room, his magic had been insistent, his tongue fully materialized in his mouth and hadn't disappeared for a good while despite his efforts. He didn't know exactly what he'd done, but taste of her skin (addicting, sweet as sugar) had still lingered, and refusing to go back for more had felt like he'd been starving himself yet again.

Stars knows what possessed her to put herself in a situation like this again, to trust him to have her fragile life in his hands. And with Papyrus gone as well, there would've been no-one to save her if he'd lost it. Even if she'd resorted to fighting, the weapon she carried would do little to no damage without the intent to kill that she lacked.

He really didn't want to mess it up again. She... Fucking stars, she needed to be more careful with him if this thing between them was ever going to have a chance of working out. If he accidentally ended up hurting her, or worse...

Well, at least Horror would get exactly what he deserved. His reaction time couldn't keep up with blasters anymore, that was for sure.

...

But...

He hadn't hurt her. Was it too early to hope that his instinct to kill no longer applied to her?

Not to say that whatever instincts he was dealing with now were much better. When had he even started thinking things like this? Sure, being attracted to her was one thing, but things like scenting, marking, all those primal urges that were consuming him were supposed to be long forgotten. Was this yet another side-effect from being focused on survival for so many years? In a state like that having a mate someone to care for becomes as much a resource as everything else, something to fight tooth and nail for. Literally, in this case.

But even still... Despite his urges, the skin of her neck remained healthy and unmarked. He hadn't hurt her.

Maybe he could still one day be able to trust himself to keep her safe around him? Maybe he still had a chance?

And if that was the case...

...

A few hours ago, Papyrus had planted that seed of doubt in her brain, insinuating that what had happened in their past had been nothing but a bad dream. Had that been the reason why she'd snuggled up to him on the couch?

No... She'd done the same thing last night, knowing whatever version of the story she'd heard from Killer – that most likely being the over-the-top exaggerated one. Killer of course knew the truth, but his tendency to paint everything with a broad brush seemed to be the equivalent of a coping mechanism, to make his own issues feel less severe compared to his counterparts. After all, Horror was the only one of the group who hadn't gone as far as to dust his own brother. Going along with the whole human-eater narrative had helped with distancing himself in the beginning, to better fit in with the team.

And maybe Horror had wanted to keep the full truth of his past a secret from her thus far, if only to keep her as wary of him as she should be. But by now he'd gathered enough proof that she didn't care either way, and if he was to truly have another chance with her in the future, he wanted her to know the truth.

So he told her.

...

He told her about the human that had fallen down into the Underground. An adult one. Horror had found them dead, probably due to the countless fractures and internal bleeding that they'd suffered from the fall. Their flesh was still warm, muscles not yet stiffened, meaning that they hadn't been down for long. The body hadn't begun decomposing yet, it had still been... Edible.

But satisfying his hunger was something Horror never even considered doing, no matter how easy it would've been in the moment. He'd merely prepared the meat and carefully storaged it, in the hopes that one day his mind would be broken enough to forget why their freezer had suddenly become full – that he'd get to play a guessing game with his brother about which one of the townspeople was generous (or stupid) enough to share a portion of their catch with them.

But he'd never gotten that far. One day, he'd found himself looking at his full plate, much like he was doing now. And unfortunately, not enough time had passed. He'd still remembered exactly where the meat had come from.

Why did he always forget the things he wanted to remember, and remembered the things he wanted to forget?

Why... why... why...

”SANS? WHY ARE YOU NOT EATING? DO YOU NOT LIKE IT?”

Papyrus had been worried about him. He remembered the ache in his gut being painful, unbearably so, worsening with each passing second. He remembered the food smelling mouth-wateringly good, Papyrus had clearly put extra effort in his cooking that day.

And how could he tell his little brother the truth? Wouldn't it be better to hide what he'd done, to carry the weight of his sins alone until the end of time?

...

Nightmare had contacted them not long after that. Horror didn't know the truth (and wasn't sure whether he wanted to know) but it seemed like Nightmare had been observing his AU for quite a while, and had only decided to intervene when things had gotten bad enough to reach the point of no return. The incident remained Horror's last memory of the Underground, a fresh wound in his soul that was never allowed to heal. It kept trying to, but the slightest bonds that formed – similar to scar tissue on a non-magical being – were constantly reopened and torn apart, the chance of recovery slipping from his grasp with every soul he shattered.

...

But it never stopped trying. One thing he didn't tell her, was how each second in her presence was making the will to go on stronger. It was as if her determination was being shared, subconsciously transferred from one living being to another.

Of course, something like that wasn't physically possible. Not in the literal sense anyways. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to enjoy every little drop that she was willing to give to him.

Horror talked for longer than she'd ever heard him do before, slowly and quietly, but with each word carefully articulated to match what he was reminiscing in his mind the whole time. Halfway through his story, she gently grabbed his hand and stroked her fingers soothingly against his phalanges. He allowed it, but kept his hand limp, never returning the gesture.

”paps... doesn't know. i never... told him.” Horror concluded, before finally taking the first forkful of his food he'd been staring at, signaling the end of his monologue.

...

That... Was it? Meaning that he'd never-...

Oh no. She'd gotten it aaall wrong.

”T-that's...” She started, wiping a few unshed tears from her eyes. ”...I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I'm sure you were only trying to do your best to survive.”

He really looked like this small incident that he'd just described was the sole cause for all his worries. Just an accident, a desperate choice made in desperate times. A traumatic experience for sure, but who knows, maybe that meal had even been the one thing that had saved the two of them from turning into piles of dust?

All of this felt like a big misunderstanding.

”But... I thought... I mean, Killer told me that you-...”

The end of the sentence was left unfinished, as Horror interrupted her with a small shake of his skull.

”he knows... the truth.”

The truth. Spoken by the one who knew it first hand. Horror had never ”hunted humans for a living”, or ”eaten them for breakfast”. So whatever she'd heard about his past from Killer had apparently been exaggerated in the best case scenario, and a straight up lie at worst.

”Then why...” She shook her head, trying to form some kind of logic behind this. ”Why would he lie about it?”

Gosh, if anyone, of course Killer would be the one to, he was such an-

”he's an idiot.” Horror shrugged.

...Yeah. That.

A small laugh escaped her.

”Yeah. You're probably right.” She agreed, making Horror's grin twitch up a bit in return.

...

The missing pieces of the skeleton puzzle were slowly starting to click into place. She'd figured out Dust and his past in his Underground a long time ago, and Horror had just filled out some gaps in his story, making the whole thing seem just as tragic and unpreventable as in Dust's case.

And despite what had almost happened the first time she'd met Horror, despite what she'd seen him do with her own eyes...

”...You don't want to kill, do you?”

Horror's hand froze, leaving the coil of spaghetti around his fork unfinished. The following silence could've been interpreted as either answer, but she knew better than to jump to conclusions before finding out the truth. At least now she did, the thought firmly engraved in her mind after today.

Finally, Horror sighed out a deep breath.

”i get to have... this.” He simply said, nodding his skull towards the plate in his hand.

No... Not just the plate of spaghetti. His words might be simple, but the meaning behind them was anything but. The food, the cabin, having himself and his brother safe, it was all thanks to Nightmare. A trade, just like he'd offered Dust. Neither of them wanted to kill, but were forced to in extreme circumstances, the ever increasing LV supposedly making it possible to distance themselves from the nature of their job. Just like she'd suspected.

But what about Killer? He didn't seem to have anyone to protect, and in contrary to the others, he even seemed to enjoy what he'd been recruited to do, constantly bragging about his stats and his recent missions. Somehow it all just seemed so... Fake. There had to be more to him than just the overbearing flirtiness and his unhealthy (and frankly ridiculous) obsession with knives.

Maybe she'd ask him about it someday.

But for now, she was going to enjoy the rest of her day off, until it would be time to return to the castle for the night. Another half an hour nap coupled with a walk outside sounded like a good enough plan.

...

...

The sky was still cloudy, but the rain had stopped. Fresh air in her lungs felt like medicine to a disease she hadn't realized she was suffering from.

Preparing for another trip through universes, she visited the cabin once more to retrieve her clothes she'd left out to dry. But it seemed that Horror didn't want his hoodie back, if the speed with which his hand shot up to stop her from pulling the zipper down was any indication.

”ya can... keep it.” He muttered, another faint blue glow appearing on his cheekbones.

And how could she object to that? Switching a soft, warm hoodie with a damp shirt didn't sound all that appealing anyways.