Chapter Text
Crack!
Papyrus’ head whipped to the side as pain ricocheted over his jaw. They hit him with a pipe. Right in the jaw. He crushed down an infuriated roar rumbling out of his ribs. It petered out in a low “nyeh heh heh” that only aggravated his broken bones more.
The humans growled at him, obviously mistaking his whimper for a laugh, not that it didn’t suit him that way. If Papyrus were being completely honest, he was afraid. No, not just afraid; he was fucking terrified. Down to a sliver of HP and he could feel how fragile he is right now. All because of that fucking mage he’s so goddamn helpless . This was not the legacy he wanted to leave behind. Papyrus wanted nothing more than to impale all of these bastards, rip them limb from limb. An eye for an eye socket as Sans would say.
Oh gods, Sans. He was permanently at one HP. Is this how it felt? Even the slightest bump might shatter him. The younger brother had an epiphany of respect for his brother; respect colored by pitty, yes, but respect nonetheless. If Sans could be strong in a position like this Papyrus could hold his own too. And he damn well will. He let out a laugh with more bravado, projecting his voice in spite.
“Somethin’ funny bonehead?” The human who struck him bristled, lifting the pipe up again in preparation to swing.
He locked his teeth together to minimize the damage to his mandible, glaring up at the goon who smashed him. One of the two he’d stuffed in a box. Fucking peachy. He put on his best grin despite the throbbing ache and just let his magic do the talking instead of moving his mouth around too. “You’re Going To Have To Hit Harder Than That, Human.”
“Don’t.” The mage finally spoke. Peachy lowered the pipe begrudgingly, grumbling. “So, you don’t want to cooperate, Papyrus?”
He scoffed a “Nyeh” and turned to look over his shoulder.
“We’ll do this the hard way then.” The mage, who had been pacing in circles for nearly an hour at this point walked up behind Papyrus, placed both hands on either side of his skull forcing Papyrus to look ahead, and channeled bolts of magic through his fingers.
Papyrus didn’t have enough mental preparation for magical torture on top of everything else. He screamed, furious, bloody murder. The fool who’d been wailing on him with a lead pipe stumbled back at the inhuman cacophony, clapping hands over his ears. It wouldn’t help any, though Papyrus did take some form of sick satisfaction that his torment was giving the humans hell too.
The mage pulled back gasping, far more sensitive to the agony of a soul ripping through the air. The skeleton sagged forward against his binding, gulping air like it would actually help. All Paps succeeded in was making his ribs more sore.
“Ha, seems we won’t be getting anything out of you today, monster. You must be so proud.” Papyrus’ new mage ‘friend’ leaned forward to snarl in his ‘ear’. “Don’t worry. I’ll break you soon enough.” His skull was yanked back and a rough blindfold reapplied. The door to his cell had open when Paps let a hollow laugh. A long sliver had been etched into the mage’s soul like a hairline fracture. He had seen it.
“I Look Forward To You Trying, Human. Next Time, I’ll Be Louder.” He coughed haggardly. “I Wonder What Can Last Longer, My Will Or Your Soul.” The door clicked shut and the tall skeleton hummed bitterly.
Didn’t think I noticed that crack, did you human? I’ve got more tricks up my sleeves than you all know. Papyrus flicked his wrist, magicly gripping the instruments of torment they’d been using on him. Specifically the bone saw. He’d have to be very careful, but he would be able to cut his restraints this way. Who knows, he might even have enough time to set up a trap. Wouldn’t that be lovely. Ah, but what kind? Right now, Papyrus decided he was in the mood for a classic, the bear trap.
A devilish grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. Alright, maybe not one so... violent, but it would definitely keep the mage in place for his ‘japes’ later.
“Nyeh Heh Heh Heh... NYEH HEH HEH HA HA HA!”
Oh, Sans would just love the idea that popped into his skull. Hmm, but what to do about the barrier?
Sans held them tightly, his breathing deep and slow. Frisk recognized it as his ‘thinking’ breath. Not the best of signs, they thought. Chara had stopped crying and adamantly denied having had an emotional breakdown. So, very Chara.
Frisk kept their eyes on the hall, on the leering skull staring back at them.
“ngh. kiddo, you smell like blood.” Sans pulled back, avoiding direct eye contact with them while he lifted Frisk up to sit on the counter. They were just shy of eye level with the skeleton now, really registering how tall Sans was compared to other timelines. Well he was just bigger in general.
They flinched when a cold cloth came in contact with their neck. Sans pulled their chin up slightly so he could clean it more thoroughly. He looked like he was about to say something when the apartment door slammed open and Undyne stormed in.
“What the hell bonehead! Why did you just vanish like that? Uh, wait, HOW did you vanish like that?!” She paused mid tirade to observe what Sans was doing, her eyebrows shooting up when he rinsed the dark hand towel in the sink. Her mouth opened and shut for a second, gaze resting fully on Frisk
“this, undyne, is why i didn’t want to have the meetin’ sooner.” He patted their knee and Frisk turned their eyes from the lingering Fish monster, to Sans. “i’ll go get ya a bandaid, ‘kay?”
They nod curtly.
Sans moved to the door only to pause when his foot taps against the knife. He let out a long sigh and stooped to pick it up. “this was one of my good ones too.” The grumbling wasn’t really directed to anyone but still weighed in Frisk’s chest. They dropped their gaze to their feet as Sans deposited the offending blade in the sink.
The skeleton finally passed into the hallway, tugging off his rusty red coat. Frisk’s eyes widened when he walked right through the shadowy creature. The leering thing followed their gaze and its grin cracked to nearly split its skull from ear to ear. All the while that polluted red light dripped from its drooping eye sockets.
Sans was back in front of them before they realized it, lightly pressing a bandage to their neck. Undyne cleared her throat once and he clicked out something under his breath. It was almost like a ticking clock only lower and more sporadic. There was a structure to it nonetheless, so Frisk didn’t think it meaningless.
“jus’....” Sans turned to face the mobster, his gaze flicking to Frisk and then down the hall. He pinched the bridge of his nose and growled. “jus’ put the package in the room at the end hall.”
“I thought Alph said you always kept that locked.” She returned his stern gaze quizzically.
“i do. guess why.”
Undyne paused for a moment returning Sans level emotionless glare. “Oh.” The captain shrugged. “Okay, but is there a key or something?”
Sans snapped his fingers, a brief spark of blue light erupting from his fingertips. “heh. yeah, a skeleton key.”
Undyne groaned softly and trudged out the door. Sans waited a moment before fixing his gaze on them once again. “ ‘lright. back to bed with you…” He didn’t move to let them down from the counter, leaning forward on his hands so Frisk was effectively trapped on the cool faux granite. “but first you’re going to tell me what that was all about.”
They shook a little, mind flashing through their nightmare and the previous reset unbidden. “I-I don’t know.” Frisk whispered barely above a breath. Urgency prodded at their mind, encouraging them to not sign. For some reason, they felt like it could read their signs even if Frisk’s hands weren’t in the creature’s line of sight. “I was someplace dark, just floating… and there was static that got louder and louder an-” They sucked in a breath, not used to talking quickly, if at all, anymore. “And I saw things… you…. You were there and… sometimes I was you, an-”
“wait.” Sans shifted so that he could glance around the apartment, listening intently to something that wasn’t there. “you were me? are you sure?”
“It was like… hearing your thoughts and feeling pain, or-” Sans interrupted them again, placing his hand on their knee and staring Frisk in the eye.
“did you see a twisted shadow? might’ve looked like-”
“A skeleton with a cracked skull? Yes.”
Sans sucked in a sharp breath, his brow bone buckling in an unbridled fury. The wrath snapped over his features warping him into something that sent chills of ice through Frisk’s body and soul. It was over just as soon as it had begun and Sans ran both hands over his skull, making more of those clicking noises in a strangled stream. Almost like a hiss… Frisk was certain this was another language, and that Sans was swearing up a storm.
“uhg. ya mind if i…?” He made a vague gesture towards their chest and Frisk nodded their permission. The tug was more painful than they’d care to admit. Their soul felt like it could be sore, maybe swollen even. Sans never touched it directly, turning them over with his magic, practically trying to light them on fire with the intensity of his stare. The darker red around the grey gash had closed in somewhat and turned slightly black.
‘Is it bad,’ they sign this time.
“not really? see this discoloration here is the soul trying to heal itself but….there’s a bit much. too much for a recent wound. if i didn’t know better i’d say your drawing magic from someone to speed up the process.”
‘Is that why it’s black?’
“ah well, yeah. um, no? it’s a lot more complicated than that but if you were to draw from another human it would be the color of their soul. white, or black in this case, would indicate a monster.”
Frisk clenched and unclenched their hands ‘Sans, I-’
“Alright!” Undyne barked from the outside hall. Sans grunted at the interruption.
“you can tell me tomorrow, kid. i, uh, don’t want you seeing this, okay?” He gently guided their soul back. Sans didn’t move away, but rather forward. His hands were large enough to completely cage Frisk’s torso in bone while he lifted them up. With a slight shift, Frisk was sitting on his forearm, hugging his broad shoulders while he carried them down the hall. Sans lingered outside the guest room door and sighed for the third? fourth? time that night. “after that, i don’ really want you outta my sight kiddo. what say you crash in my room tonight, okay.”
Frisk tapped his shoulders, gazing at him with no small amount of concern and hesitance.
“don’ worry i’ll take the floor. that carpet is always comfy anyway.” He laughed when they puffed out their cheeks. Their own good humor dampening when they caught sight of it peeking around the corner. They hugged themselves tighter to Sans’ shoulders and Chara scoffed quietly at them.
The light blue of Sans’ room blotted out that darkness’ existence and they found themselves glancing around at the messy space. They could actually see the floor, and there was a decided lack of self-sustaining trash tornados. Sans set them down on his much larger bed, the soft white comforter reminding them of a cloud or fur or a snowdrift. Sans shuffled over to a walk-in closet that seemed much too small for a skeleton of his width. There was a clothes hamper hanging on the door along with a surprisingly neat shoe rack. If fact the closet’s inside did not match the scattered feel of the room at all, almost like someone went to obsessive lengths to keep it organized.
Now that Frisk thought about it, the kitchen seemed the same way; equally organized and equally mismatched to the rest of the apartment. So Frisk watched Sans slide off his tie, unknot it and carefully hang it on an empty hook. The skeleton methodically removed and stored his various cosmetic pieces that Frisk hadn’t paid much mind to before. He deftly moved through the buttons on his dress shirt. It was a mechanical kind of efficacy, Sans was free of the dress shirt in less than ten seconds, casually folding it into the hamper while scratching at his neck vertebrae. His white cotton undershirt was bunched somewhat awkwardly around his ribs but what caught Frisk’s attention were the scars.
Several long, jagged, or raised marks ran over his bones, visible even from the few feet away in near total darkness. They must have gasped because Sans sent a glance their way. His smile was small and raw. It was rare to ever see him without that fake plastered-on grin no matter the timeline. What boggled their mind was how Sans could be this scared with only one HP. Any of the blows that could create this damage should have killed him.
“it ain't a pretty sight, huh kid?”
Frisk opened their mouth to respond only to lamely shut it again and shake their head.
“heh.” Sans tugged off his belt and snapped the leather in his hands, eyes dim with distant memories. A dark look passed over his face, turning the grin sinister for a brief moment. That moment passed too and he cast a sheepish grin in their direction.
Frisk could just make out the low shuffle of something being dragged down the hall. They glanced at the door at the same time Sans did.
“erh, looks like i’ll have work tomorrow.”
Frisk just nodded in response, not removing their gaze from the antique wood.
“well, you better get some shut eye kiddo. we’re gonna have a long day ahead of us.” Sans closed his closet softly and Frisk noticed he’d changed into a pair of pj pants, light blue with sheep patterns on them in an off-white. It almost looked to be the same grey-ish tint to Sans’ bones.
They settled down on the bed’s edge, keeping their eyes on Sans as he relaxed. His chest rose and fell slowly, eye sockets resting shut lightly, and hands laced together over his somehow rounded gut. The only thing to betray his awakened state was the deep pitched hum reverberating from him. It lulled Frisk to sleep faster than they really realized. A deep, dreamless sleep. Dare they say peaceful sleep.
At some point in the night, they woke up again, only half awake and took comfort in the lingering smell on the pillow. But it wasn’t enough security in the pitch darkness. They stumbled out of bed, quickly finding a large something on the floor that smelt the same. It was round and warm and made them feel safe. Logically they fell asleep on top of it.