Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“DAD?”

<Yes Papyrus?>

“WHY HASN’T ALPHYS COME OVER TO PLAY WITH ME THIS WEEK?”

<Her SOUL sent out its first bonding call, Papyrus.>

“OH. SO WHY CAN’T WE PLAY?”

<You remember when your SOUL sent out its first call, don’t you? You and I stayed in the Lower Labs for a week while you adjusted to the bonding. Alphys is just a little uncoordinated right now, and first bondings are always more messy and raw than later ones. She’s been having some problems keeping her magic under control. Even if she didn’t mean to, she could hurt someone by accident, so her father is helping her sort things out.>

“OKAY. WHY IS IT HAPPENING NOW? I’M THREE YEARS YOUNGER THAN SHE IS, SHOULDN’T SHE HAVE ALREADY DONE THIS?”

<Not everyone is as advanced as the Great Papyrus. Some monsters take many years to feel comfortable enough about themselves and the world around them to let themselves go. Still, the longer it takes, the more difficult the transition will be. You only took a week to get used to it, and only lost control of your magic once. Alphys will probably take another few days or so, since she’s already 73. That’s rather late for a monster to be bonding, but she is rather shy. I bonded when I was in my early thirties, and it took me nearly a month just to get out of bed.>

“I SEE. WHY DID YOU WAIT SO LONG, THEN? DIDN’T IT HURT?”

<A little. being without any kind of a bond is very lonely, but letting other monsters into your SOUL like that scared me. What if something went wrong? Even just a platonic bond, or one with family, can have disastrous consequences if it isn’t done right. The longer I waited, the more terrifying it was to me. Eventually my body decided that if I wasn’t going to make the decision, it would do it for me. I fell asleep one night and woke up several weeks later with my entire family standing around me.>

“THAT DOESN’T SOUND VERY NICE.”

<It wasn’t, but if I had waited much longer my HP would have started to diminish. As it was, they decided to get as many people as felt they were close enough to me to bond. It helped, since I’d built up quite a lot of magic. I don’t think I could survive it, if I’d waited till now.>

“IF YOU HADN’T, YOU WOULDN’T HAVE HAD ME!”

<Very true. And it’s rather nice, bonding with people. Maybe when Alphys is feeling better, you can ask if she wants to form a friendship-bond with you.>

“REALLY?”

<Really. Come on, I can help you write the card. We should have some blue paper still lying around from the CORE’s opening party.>

“MAYBE WE CAN MAKE ONE FOR YOU AND DOCTOR SANS, TOO! YOU LIKE HIM A LOT, SO YOU SHOULD ASK HIM TO BOND WITH YOU!”

<...I don’t think so, Paps. Doctor Sans is...not interested in doing something like that with me. Some monsters are very selective in who they bond with, and he seems to be one of those. I don’t think I’ve seen him accept a bond with anyone. I suppose that’s just his way.>

“DOES THAT MEAN I CAN’T ASK ALPHYS?”

<No! I just...want you to know that sometimes monsters will reject you, even if they still want to be very good friends. It just means they aren’t comfortable with bonds in the same way you are.>

“OKAY...I THINK I’M STILL GOING TO ASK, THOUGH. MAYBE WHAT THEY REALLY NEED IS A FRIEND AS GREAT AS ME TO SHOW THEM THE WAY!”

The bell above Grillby’s door jingled merrily. The bartender looked up, cheeks brightening at the idea that perhaps Sans had finally dropped by to…

Papyrus stood in the doorway, peering around the warm room with an air of hope that gave way to despair. He took off a large yellow raincoat, shaking it carefully and setting it on the rack by the door. The entire population of the bar, human and monster alike, watched the towering skeleton wince his way over to the bar. He eyed the stool, then sighed and took a seat.

Grillby hurried over to the fridge and grabbed a milkshake. The child had introduced him to the concept a few weeks after they’d arrived on the surface, and the non-greasy treat had instantly become the only item on his menu that Papyrus would drink. As Sans had not been to the bar in weeks, the only reason he could see for the taller skeleton’s presence was one of these dairy-filled beverages.

“THANK YOU, GRILLBY.”

Papyrus took a long, long sip, draining half the glass before setting it back down with a thunk. His shoulders hunched up, and the rings around his eyes spoke of far too long without sleep. Grillby picked up a nearby glass and started polishing. He knew a skeleton in need of a confidant when he saw one.

“YOU HAVEN’T SEEN SANS IN HERE LATELY, BY ANY CHANCE, HAVE YOU?”

Grillby shook his head mournfully. Sans was one of his closest friends.

Papyrus let out a breath of deep unhappiness.

“I WAS AFRAID OF THAT. NOBODY HAS SEEN HIM ANYWHERE! EVER SINCE FRISK PULLED MY FATHER AND THE CORE TEAM OUT OF THE VOID, SANS HAS BEEN SPENDING LONGER AND LONGER AWAY FROM HOME. YESTERDAY WHEN DAD CAME HOME, SANS CAME DOWN THE STAIRS, TOOK ONE LOOK, AND VANISHED! JUST LIKE THAT.”

Grillby hung the glass up dejectedly, and waited. Papyrus took yet another extended sip from the glass. Thoroughly drained, Grillby felt confident in taking it over to the sink, where he nestled it with the others. On his way back, he grabbed another from the fridge and set it down. Papyrus hadn’t looked up.

“DAD THINKS SANS THINKS DAD IS GOING TO BE MAD AT HIM FOR PRETENDING TO BE MY BROTHER ALL THESE YEARS. HE ISN’T, AND NEITHER AM I, EVEN IF I DIDN’T KNOW. HE STILL TOOK REALLY GOOD CARE OF ME. BUT WE CAN’T TELL HIM THAT IF HE WON’T LET US TALK TO HIM, AND HE ISN’T PICKING UP HIS PHONE, OR ANSWERING HIS TEXTS, OR ANYTHING!”

Grillby tapped on the countertop, then signed, quick and clear, in front of his chest.

-Bondmates?-

Papyrus wailed, “NONE! EVERYONE WE’VE ASKED WAS EITHER TURNED DOWN OR DISCOURAGED BECAUSE EVERYONE ELSE WAS TURNED DOWN! EVEN THE QUEEN! EVEN ME!”

Grillby frowned. He’d thought Sans was just a bit of a selective monster, but that...surely someone had bonded with the shorter skeleton! Sans was at least...at least…

-How old is Sans?-

Papyrus sniffed, “I DON’T KNOW. DAD SAYS HE LOOKED REALLY YOUNG WHEN HE APPLIED FOR THE JOB AT THE CORE, BUT SINCE SANS HAD HIS PHD HE DECIDED NOT TO WORRY ABOUT IT. THAT WAS FIFTEEN YEARS AGO! WHY DOES IT MATTER?”

-Monsters who don’t take bondmates often suffer from health problems. It’s why so many monsters form platonic bonds within the first few weeks of meeting someone. If Sans hasn’t taken a bondmate in all that time, he might be very, very depressed. I knew he was a little bit, but he always said he was holding himself together for you. I thought that meant you two were bonded. But if he ran away when your dad came back, maybe he’s worse off than I thought.-

Papyrus gasped, and the Dog Squad, who had been sitting at their usual table for the Friday Night Poker, turned their heads. Doggo slid out of his chair and made his way to the bar.

“We heard you gasping, boney pup, and were maybe a little bit eavesdropping about Sans. Anything we can do to help track him down? Lesser and I might have been turned down as bondmates, but we still hold a bit of a torch, if you catch my drift. Consider the Dog Squad at your disposal.”

Papyrus turned worried eyes to face him.

“THAT WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED. DAD AND I HAVE BEEN SEARCHING ALL AROUND MT. EBOTT. I DON’T KNOW WHERE ELSE TO LOOK!”

Doggo scratched his head.

“Have you tried searching Underground? As lonely as it is, sometimes familiar territory is all a monster wants to see.”

Papyrus’ eyeballs bulged.

“OF COURSE! SANS IS ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT WAKING UP IN SNOWDIN. MAYBE HE WENT THERE? OR MAYBE HE FORGOT SOMETHING AT THE LABS...OR WENT TO GO SEE THE CEILING IN THE WISHING ROOM. I’LL CALL UNDYNE AND ALPHYS AND HER MAJESTY AND DAD AND EVERYONE. ONE OF US WILL SURELY TRACK HIM DOWN!”

“Well howdy! Isn’t this a surprise? Coming back to gloat, Smiley Trashbag? Surface lose its charm?”

Sans didn’t stir. Flowey scowled, burrowing up another twenty feet.

“Hello? Underground to Idiot? Are you even listening to me?”

Sans skull slowly tilted back towards him. In the dim light coming down from the distant stars, the scattered golden petals of the First Human’s grave were almost the same shade of grey as the skeleton’s jacket.

“oh. hey flowey. s’been a while, hasn’t it? just over three years now.”

Flowey rolled his eyes.

“Uh, yeah. That’s why there’s nobody living here anymore, idiot. They all moved on to better things.”

Sans chuckled, breathily, “yup. y’know alphys’ is getting a kid soon? her and undyne’s paperwork finally made it through. they’re already planning about teaching them magic.”

“Great. More stabby fishsticks. Just what the world needed.”

Sans didn’t seem to hear him, “grillby opened a new bar. well, more like a chain, really. seven different stores, one for every day of the week. he’s pretty happy now, too.”

Flowey stared at Sans’ hands. They were folded over the skeleton’s ribcage, but every so often he could make out a passing quiver.

“tori and asgore are opening the gates of the new school in less than a week. doubt they’ll ever get back to being buddy-buddy, but at least they can stand to be in the same room.”

The flower tried to ignore the wave of grief at the mention of his parents in his fragile speck of a SOUL. Not enough to do anything useful, but just enough to give him the occasional twinge. He hated it, but even that was an improvement.

“frisk is doing well. knocked another item off their checklist a few weeks ago. only another two hundred to go. stars but can that kid be determined.”

Flowey turned his petals up towards the stars.

“Which one was that then? Finally getting Alphys to watch Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 3?”

“they got pap’s dad back out of the void.”

Flowey burst out laughing.

“Really? Old Crack-face? Why’d they go and do that, he’s dry as a stick and almost as annoying as you.”

Sans shut his sockets, blocking out the stars.

“pap doesn’t need me anymore, flowey.”

His face whipped around so fast his own petals hit him in the face. Smiley wasn’t allowed to sound like that. No one was allowed to sound like that. Only Chara was allowed to sound like that. So...broken. That was how they’d sounded when they told him about the plan.

“Hey, what are you talking about? Of course he needs you. He’s the most trusting, gullible idiot in the universe. Someone has to be there to give anyone who hurts him a bad time.”

Sans rolled away.

“that’s gaster’s job now. he always did it better than me.”

Flowey was actually worried now.

“So? What does that got to do with it? Anyway, what about Frisk? Didn’t you make some stupid promise to Mo- the old lady?”

Flowey poked him with his vines.

“Trashbag?”

No reaction.

“Idiot?”

Why didn’t he answer?

“Sans?”

The faintest white glow suffused the cave. Slowly, ever so slowly, a SOUL appeared, battered and grey and almost as small as his. Flowey’s jaw went slack. It started to shiver.

“NO!”

His vines raced out, wrapping around the grey heart and holding it in place. He could feel it, feel the desolation and exhaustion and fragility. It wanted to be done with this. It wanted to not have to live like this anymore. It was so tired of being lonely.

Flowey’s petals whipped around. No smiling idiots backflipped out of the shadows. No heroic fishsticks barrelled in from the sky. Crud. He’d have actually take him to help, wouldn’t he?

His vines snaked around the collapsed skeleton, spinning him up in a thick, padded cocoon. As he dragged his burdens out into the Ruins, he couldn’t help grumbling to himself about the incredible unfairness of it.

“Stupid Trashbag, coming all this way to die, making me drag his greasy bones all the way through the Underground. WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS? Smiley Trashbag, there had better be a nice reward in this for me!”

Papyrus sat, despondent, next to the decaying remnants of Sans’ old Sentry Station. They’d been searching for 52 hours now. The Capitol, Core, Hotland, and Temmie Village had all been exhausted. Most of the searchers were still in Waterfall. Those caves went on for miles and miles.

Undyne had ordered him to go to Snowdin and take a rest after the third time he’d tripped over that Annoying Dog. He’d rebelled only a little bit, walking all the way through town out here to the edge of the Ruins before his legs had finally given out. He was starting to seriously wonder if Sans was even in the Underground at all.

“Hey, you! Idiot! Get off your butt and help me out!”

Papyrus skull shot up.

“FLOWEY? IS THAT YOU?”

“Yes it’s me you idiot, now get over here! Geez, he’s heavy. What did you do, let him get a job at a ketchup factory?”

His hopes skyrocketing, Papyrus lept to his feet.

“YOU HAVE SANS?!!”

“Yes, sheesh, I have the Smiley Trash Bag! NOW COME PICK HIM UP!”

Papyrus was kneeling beside the wilting Flowey before he’d even finished the sentence.

“IS HE HURT? WHERE DID YOU FIND HIM? WE’VE BEEN LOOKING ALL OVER! IS HE OKAY? HAS HE EATEN?”

“In direct order: maybe, Ruins, I doubt it, and why in the world should I know? He was just laying in the flowers saying all this stupid garbage about nobody needing him and Gaster and then he stopped responding and his SOUL popped out and I had to hold it, which was gross by the way, and carry him all the way here. Fix him.”

Papyrus carefully picked his not-sibling-sibling out of the nest of vines and cradled him against his chest. Sans was trembling, his entire frame vibrating with unspent magic. His sockets were empty, black pits, blending into the rest of his skull smoothly via the dark circles rimming his eyes. His clothes were a mess of plant debris and ketchup stains and one slipper had left his body somewhere in the past few days.

The only reason Papyrus was able to keep himself from crying with relief was that he was already crying with worry. He let his skull fall against Sans’ chest and nuzzled in, breathing in the slight odor of grease and particle physics that, for the past fifteen years, had meant home.

“SANS…”

His voice faded into silence. Flowey waited, then growled with annoyance.

“Don’t forget this, idiot.”

He extended the smaller ball and, vine by vine, let Sans’ SOUL come back into the open. Papyrus sucked in a breathe and swayed, almost dropping Sans under the influence of whatever signals that little ball of grey goop was sending.

“F-F-FLOWEY, CAN YOU-”

He visibly sucked in a breathe, setting Sans’ body gently on the path and reaching out to cup the SOUL.

“I NEED YOU TO GO OVER TO WATERFALL AND FIND SOMEONE, ANYONE. TELL THEM TO CALL GASTER AND GET HIM TO BRING EVERYONE WHO IS WILLING TO BOND WITH SANS AND BRING THEM HERE .”

Flowey leered, “Oh, geeze, taking advantage of your poor, tired friend Flowey when he just-”

“FLOWEY, DO IT NOW.”

Flowey’s vines retracted at record speed. He let out one last shot before burrowing down.

“Fine. You really owe me big time, though.”

Papyrus sighed the moment Flowey left. He turned his attention to the SOUL in his hands. It was pulsing and crying out so loudly he could barely think. Every beat pushed harder and harder against his own magic, demanding, pleading, begging him to open up and let it in. It was terrifying, so much stronger than what he’d felt when MK went through his own first bonding call a few years back.

“OH SANS. WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS SO HARD ON YOURSELF? IF YOU HAD JUST TOLD US YOU’D NEVER BONDED...WELL, I SUPPOSE IT HARDLY MATTERS NOW.”

He settled himself comfortably in the snow, clearing his mind as best he could and pulling his magic to the brink. He hummed quietly as he began to build, coaxing Sans’ SOUL and his own to stretch out in just the right way so he could spin them together. The words of the song eluded him, but music was calming, soothing, and caring, and all the other things that he thought of when he thought of Sans. With every note, he felt his almost-brother draw a bit nearer.

The song ended as the bond faded into place, smooth and strong and perfectly formed. He preened a little at how well he had pulled it off. Confused support and absolute adoration radiated along it, and he smiled.

“HELLO, SANS. IT’S GOOD TO SEE YOU TOO.”

Cautious reciprocation and puzzled vertigo. His smile wilted.

“YOU’RE CONFUSED, AREN’T YOU? DIZZY? DISLOCATED, EVEN?”

Agreement and frustration were mixed with pride at the subtle pun. He registered the far off tingle of an incoming shortcut. He laughed out loud.

“WELL, THAT IS ONLY TO BE EXPECTED! THE PRESENCE OF SOMEONE AS WONDERFUL AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, IS SURE TO BE OVERPOWERING! ALTHOUGH IT WOULD PROBABLY BE LESS DISORIENTING IF YOU HAD NOT WAITED SO LONG TO OPEN UP TO A BOND. I AM AFRAID YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO HAVE QUITE A LOT OF PEOPLE WORRYING ABOUT YOU UNTIL YOU WAKE UP.”

The looming figures of their former Majesties crunched through the snow. He turned a cheerful, if tired, grin towards them.

“GREETINGS, ASGORE, TORIEL. I DO HOPE THIS IS NOT TOO MUCH OF A BOTHER, BUT IT SEEMS SANS DECIDED TO RUN OFF JUST IN TIME FOR HIS FIRST URGE TO BOND TO OVERTAKE HIM.”

Asgore’s eyes bulged, and Toriel frowned.

“Surely that is a jest, Papyrus. Sans is far too old for this to be his first time.”

Papyrus sighed, and brought Sans’ SOUL, which he had cupped protectively against his chest, around towards them. The moment it was out in the open, the two gasped. Asgore was the first to recover, gulping down his anxiety and shuffling over. He lowered himself beside Papyrus and held out his hands, then hesitated.

“You don’t think he would object to me joining him, do you?”

Papyrus passed the request along, and vocalized the response.

“HE TRUSTS YOU, EVEN IF HE THINKS YOU CAN BE A BIT...ODD, SOMETIMES. HE’S MORE CONFUSED ABOUT WHAT’S HAPPENING THAN ANYTHING ELSE AT THE MOMENT. HE THOUGHT HE WAS-”

Papyrus swallowed, “HE THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO DUST.”

Asgore winced, but his hands were steady as he raised them up under Papyrus’ own. The bright mix of orange, red and blue sparkling around his palms spun itself into a tether within seconds. Papyrus scowled, but reminded himself that Asgore had bonded with hundreds of monsters over his long lifetime. Through Sans, he felt familiar encouragement tinged with a large helping of surprise.

Asgore wiped away a tear.

“I am glad you feel so kindly towards me, Sans. I know you and I have had certain...disagreements in the past.”

Papyrus caught the edge of dry humor and rolled eyes, and frowned.

“SANS! YOU SHOULD NOT BE SO FLIPPANT TO ASGORE, EVEN IF HE IS NO LONGER THE KING!”

On his other side, Toriel brushed her skirts back elegantly.

“On the contrary, Papyrus, my former husband deserves every bit of flippancy he may receive. Asgore, SOUL.”

Sans’ amusement at Toriel’s brusk confidence filled Papyrus with joy. Positive emotions were very good.

Her bond took even less time to stabilize than had Asgore’s. She beamed at Sans, SOUL and body combined.

“Oh you coy flatterer, stop that. If that door had not been standing between us I would have asked you to bond years ago. As it is, I most certainly will have a few words to say about denying your urge to connect when next you wake.”

The backlash of confusion was even stronger this time, insistent and frustrated while still being calm in a way only Sans could pull off. The three of them were equally confused.

“Sans...you did know what it was that other monsters meant by bonding, did you not? This...please tell me this was not a complete surprise.”

The equivalent of grumbling and hands thrown up in the air filled them all. In the distance, Papyrus felt his father drop off another load.

“Oh dear.”

Sprinting footsteps quickly approached. Papyrus curved his body in a defensive huddle over the top of Sans, quickly eclipsed by the two former monarchs doing the same.

“NGAHH!!!!”

“U-u-undyne, slow d-d-down!”

Asgore sat up and, smiling, went to greet his former Captain of the Royal Guard and Royal Scientist.

“Howdy, friends! I take it you wish to help Sans too?”

Undyne finished settling Alphys onto the ground, taking off her own coat and wrapping it around the cold-blooded monster. She then grinned widely back.

“Of course! He might be an annoying, over-pranking nerd, but he’s our annoying, over-pranking nerd. Isn’t that right?”

Alphys nodded hastily as she shuffled her way between Asgore and Papyrus.

“Uh, yes. He’s been a f-f-friend of mine for...years? Even b-before the, um, Core incident made you forget, Pap? He...he’s always been there to lend a hand. Even if there w-w-was a whoopie cushion in it.”

Sans’ SOUL chuckled merrily. Toriel, reluctantly, unwrapped her paws from around it and let it gravitate over to Alphys. Her bond was sloppier. It wavered in and out of alignment before finally settling in with an audible snap. Everyone winced.

Alphys’ right hand reached up to rub at her left shoulder.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, Sans, I didn’t, um, didn’t mean to- oh? You really…? Oh, um...thanks.”

The waves of reassurance and humor tickled at Papyrus’ SOUL. He stood up to give Undyne his seat. He swayed, bracing himself on Toriel’s shoulder as a wave of exhaustion washed over him. Sans’ fresh bond with him, as well as Papyrus’ older ones with Undyne and Alphys, all inundated him with concern. He sat back down, and Undyne instead swapped places with Asgore.

“I thought I told you to take a rest, punk! You are going to sit there and warm up your broth- warm up Sans until I tell you otherwise, you here me?”

He wilted, “YES, UNDYNE.”

“Good. Now, Alphys...hey, you’re alright with me doing this, right nerd? I know we’re not exactly besties, but-”

“HE IS FINE WITH IT AS LONG AS YOU DON’T MAKE HIM TAKE COOKING LESSONS AND BURN DOWN THE HOUSE. ONE HOUSE IS MORE THAN ENOUGH. I AGREE.”

Undyne rolled her eye, “Fine, sure. Gimme the SOUL, Alphee.”

The former Captain’s bond took ages to form, crackling and spiking at the slightest sound. Gaster dropped off yet another load in the meantime, Doggo and Lesser Dog loafing into the clearing. Toriel and Alphys politely exchanged positions with them. Everyone’s eyes were trying to find something interesting to look at in the muffling snow. Sans himself was patiently bored, if such a thing existed.

Finally, the bond was fixed with a bright burst of energy that was more show than substance. Undyne’s grin split her face.

“FINALLY! Almost thought you were giving up on me, nerd, but welcome to the family. You now get automatically invited to all Anime Nights and Monster Truck Rallies. So’s Pap, but he never goes. Says it’s too dirty or something.”

Sans gave off the equivalent feeling of waggling eyebrows. Undyne scowled.

“Ugh, fine. But no weird stuff, okay? That cooking show one was confusing as heck.”

Lesser Dog barked, and Undyne turned her head.

“What? Oh, yeah, here you go. Nerd says it’s fine.”

She growled when both Lesser’s and Doggo’s bonds took only a minute each. Lesser looked almost apologetic, but Doggo only grinned and spat out his dog treat.

“No offense, Undyne, but not everyone’s as much of a stick in the mud when it comes to getting pranked as you. Even pulled a few of our own on Sans, over the years. Remember that, Sans? Heh, yup. That was a good one. You and me should team up sometime and get those old fuddy-duddies at the Town Hall something good.”

Asgore chuckled, “I will pretend I never heard that.”

Toriel looked up at the sky.

“Come, Dreemur. I think some of us should get a fire going over in Home. It is somewhat nearer than Snowdin, and certainly possessed of a greater number of guest rooms.”

She stood up, shaking the snow off her gown. She paused halfway upright.

“...what do you mean, Sans?”

Frustration and a query.

“...of course we are going to stay with you. What would possibly make you imagine we would do otherwise?”

The feeling of learning, and paperwork, and impending excitement.

Doggo barked out a laugh, “What, the school? If you aren’t up and about by the time that opens up, they can probably get away with leaving for a day or two. You’ve got, what, seven bonds now? And the Doctor said he was bringing at another two.”

Overwhelm. Doubt, confusion upon confusion, mounting frustration, worry, fear, depression, self-hatred, denial, self-sacrifice, embarrassment...everyone nearby visibly shuddered from what amounted to a physical blow.

The clearing around them swarmed with indigo lights laced with gold. Several tree branches swayed in a non-existent wind. Doggo’s discarded dog treat lifted into the air. Magic surged.

Papyrus neatly reached out and enclosed his once-brother’s SOUL in his own blue attack. The clearing froze, its inhabitants’ expressions ranging from terror and confusion to admiration and even resignation. Slowly, Sans’ power settled down. Papyrus sighed and let loose the containment he had erected.

Alphys coughed. They all faced her.

“What was that?” She squeaked.

<That was Sans.>

Everyone but Papyrus, who was too exhausted, Sans, who was still collapsed, and Doggo, who had been facing the path to Snowdin and had seen the monsters approaching, jumped.

Gaster minced his way into the clearing, a sheepish expression on his face. Behind him, bundled up to his ears in waterproof clothing still damp from the summer rains, Grillby walked with slightly less care.

<Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare anyone.>

Toriel rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

“Of course you did not, Wingdings. Still, you somehow always do. I take it you and Sir Grillby are the last of us?”

Grillby’s hands moved quickly.

-Not Sir, and yes. Gaster thought any more than nine might cause a bit of an overload. There were at least seven more dressed up and ready to go. I think he just got worried and wanted to see Sans for himself.-

Gaster flushed.

<M-maybe, so? Nine bonds in one day is still more than any monster in recorded history has undergone. We have no idea what the effects might be.>

“SO FAR, THEY HAVE BEEN CONFUSION, FRUSTRATION, AND AN INCREASE IN THE DESIRE TO PUN.”

Undyne’s eyes were blazing with excitement.

“Don’t forget that blaze of light, Pap! That had to be the biggest display of raw magic I’ve ever seen!”

Asgore frowned.

“Yes, it was rather large, wasn’t it? Toriel?”

She nodded, “Indeed. How old is Sans, Papyrus.”

The skeleton threw up his hands.

“WHY IS IT THAT EVERYONE ASKS THAT QUESTION OF ME? I DON’T KNOW?”

Two pulses of annoyance, then a pause, then five, then a longer pause, then two and a shrug.

Everyone turned to Sans with astonishment.

Undyne croaked, “Please tell me you forgot how to add up to ninety.”

Laughter and a no.

Lesser dog whined.

-I feel you, my friend. Sans. How in the world have you managed to go so long without bonding?-

Silence. Undyne looked annoyed, then Alphys jumped.

“Oh! Sans, did you c-c-catch any of that?”

Uncertain denial and a request.

“Grillby, um, would you- would you come over here, please? He w-w-wants to talk direct- as d-d-directly to you as he c-c-can.”

Grillby sparked, and hurried over. Gaster laughed, and Toriel scrunched her nose at him. He wiped away the tears as Grillby channeled his flames.

<Sorry, but you have no idea how hilarious that was. Or possibly you do, and I am more hysterical than I thought. Probably that. I don’t think I’ve slept for three days now.>

Alphys, Papyrus, and Toriel scowled at him. He waved them away, oozing closer to his son and the skeleton who had cared so well for him when he had been trapped in the Void. Grillby’s bond settled in seconds before Gaster’s own hands reached out to take the SOUL. Grillby’s flames crackled and popped as he shared a few choice thoughts with the smallest skeleton he knew. Finally, he sighed.

-Sans, I am not sure what you mean. Is this really a surprise?-

Affirmation strong enough to send them all swaying. Toriel herself summoned a handful of fireballs to knock away the bones. Grillby rubbed his forehead.

-No one told you.-

Yes.

-No one explained to you.-

Yes.

-You never bothered to look it up yourself?-

Laziness and nihilism.

“Of course it matters, silly skeleton,” Toriel sounded almost as frustrated as Sans, “We must know so that we can be certain this will not happen to another monster ever again.”

Placid shrug and justification.

Undyne sighed. Gaster sweated as his bond failed to take shape.

“Well, you better give us a good explanation later, punk. What kind of parents would fail to tell their kid something like this.”

Grief quickly brushed aside by defensiveness, then washed over by apathy, then shattered by hatred and fear. The blue bones barely had time to form before they crumpled under the attacks of Doggo and Lesser Dog.

Asgore and Toriel blinked, and Gaster swore as yet another attempt at a bond evaporated at his fingertips.

<Sans, if you do not want me here, please just have one of them tell me. This is getting ridiculous.>

“THAT WASN’T YOU, DAD. SANS HAS...COMPLICATED FEELINGS ABOUT HIS BIRTH FAMILY.”

The complete sensation of Sans response could be translated as: no duh, you think?

<Ah, I see. Nevermind then. I take it I am still welcome here?>

Magic filled the clearing once again.

Asgore cleared his throat, “Sans seems to have...complicated feelings about you as well.”

Undyne happily smashed a spear through a giant, floating skull. Gaster blinked at it in wonder.

<So that’s where they went. I was wondering about that.>

He paused.

<Complicated how?>

“HE STILL THINKS YOU ARE MAD AT HIM. AND GUILT. QUITE A LOT OF GUILT,” Lesser Dog whined, “AND SOMETHING LESSER DOG SAYS FEELS EXACTLY LIKE BEING A PUPPY AND GETTING KICKED BY SOMEONE YOU STILL WANT TO CALL YOU A GOOD BOY.”

Papyrus’ scarf unraveled itself from his neck and buried itself on top of Sans’ SOUL and face.

<I take it that was embarrassment?>

“Yep.”

Gaster sighed and freed Sans’ SOUL from the scarf with care.

<Sans. I am honestly baffled as to why you think I’m supposed to be mad at you. You took care of my son for fifteen years with no warning or training whatsoever. Not to mention the fact that you did so alone, and managed to handle his impression that you were his brother swimmingly. The guilt probably has something to do with that, and if you try to tell me it has anything to do with me and my team falling into the Core I will smother you. Probably in hugs. It was my own fault and you know it.>

He cleared his throat.

<As for the other emotion, I think it might have something to do with the previously mentioned ‘complicated feelings’ about your parents, the relationship you’ve built with Papyrus, and your time as my assistant and friend. If you would just let me form this bond with you, a great deal of that would be cleared up, but since it seems I have to, let me say this.>

He took a deep breath, passing a silent message to Papyrus, who responded with an overwhelming yes.

<If you are feeling uncomfortable because you still feel like Papyrus’ brother and wish I could be your dad, the two of us would be more than happy to take you in.>

The energy sprang from Sans’ SOUL to Gaster so quickly he nearly screamed. Then he laughed and let it in, feeling the brilliantly happy, bubbling relief echo through his SOUL.

Undyne snorted, “Looks like you’ve got a brother again, Paps. Try not to shout the mountain down in your excitement.”

Flowey, a few hundred feet away in the bedrooms of Home, winced as Papyrus’ shout of excitement knocked a picture frame down off the wall. He rolled his eyes, picking it back up and tugging it straight on its hook.

“There. Smiley Trash Bag better be getting me something really good for all of this.”

He vehemently trampled down the faint echo of amusement from what, if he had had any more of a SOUL than he did, he would probably have admitted to being a bond.

Chapter Text

Grillby watched the strange, dusty creature shuffle out of his empty bar. It looked like a human, but it wasn’t one. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say it looked like something wearing a human. No naturally born creature looked like that.

Sadness filled him. He blinked at the depth and breadth of it. He knew no reason that he should be feeling that emotion. So then, why was he?

As soon as he started questioning it the feeling shuddered. The glitching, patchy effect reminded him somewhat of a phone call interrupted by the interference of the CORE. Excitement joined the sadness at that thought, like another voice in a choir. Excitement that was somehow familiar.

-Gaster?-

Grillby fought his own hands’ resistance to complete the signs.

A melted form flickered in his peripherals. The flaming bartender instinctively did NOT look at it. He knew that would make it no clearer. A flame creates the greatest distortions looking into its center. It is at the edges looking out that things become clear.

-Why are you hurting so, old friend? I have not seen you for ages, and yet here you are same as the day we met. Just as burdened by sorrow, too.-

The form moved, slowly enough for Grillby’s turning head to keep up, over to the Dog Squad’s usual table. Not one of the canines had come in today. It did not take long for these facts to add up.

-Oh. The creature?-

The form nodded. Grillby stared at the door absently.

-And Papyrus will doubtless try to stall them at the cloudy place.-

The form nodded again. Hesitant hope backed a vague question in through their much-strained, ancient bond.

-No. He wouldn’t listen. I am afraid your son inherited your stubborn nature. He would not listen to Asgore, should the old goat leave himself enough to issue an order, let alone me. It is futile to try.-

Resigned acceptance merged with sadness. Grillby moved, his body always facing partially away from the fractured form, over to the bar. He reached up to the top shelf, moved aside one narrow bottle, and drew out a single bottle of high-end scotch. Two glasses were reverentially poured. Grillby then carried them over to the mourning father and slid one across the table.

Silent thanks was the only bright note in a bar that had once held so much joy. Perhaps it would again, in some other lifetime. For now, only sadness lived within.

Chapter Text

The crib was wooden. It had no patches, no touch ups, no scars. For a crib in the Underground, that was immensely rare. Most furniture came from the dump, and anything there had at least some signs of wear. This didn’t. The same could not be said of the skeleton leaning on it.

They were small; their bones as delicate as willow fronds, and far less resilient. Their face could have been called beautiful, once. Large sockets balanced perfectly with the rounded mandible. The plaster covering the back of their head didn’t really fit. It wasn’t the only one.

The skeleton reached out a shaking hand to the bundle of rags inside the crib. There were red-edged cracks in the bones, but the way the hand stroked the babybones spoke volumes about the strength of the skeleton’s heart. Despite everything, they cared. They always would, even if it killed them.

“zithy, why don’t we get to go outside?”

The frail skeleton set aside their darning. Their child went through socks faster than anything, and their only contact with the outside world was not inclined to buy more.

They smiled. It wasn’t shaky, although it should be. They had too much practice to let anything show.

“Why would we need to go outside? Father brings us food and books and clothes and pencils. We don’t need anything else, do we?”

Sans’ face didn’t change. It was the same peircing look. They wondered if their son would ever learn to show his feelings. They knew it was important, even if, now, they could not afford to.

“we don’t, but...but i want to see all the things in my books. there’s snow and rain and wind, it says. and other monsters.”

Down the hall outside the door they could not open, loud footsteps stomped closer. They quickly shushed their son, and he obediently returned to his latest textbook. It was a human one on meteorology, and he was less than a dozen pages from the end. They hoped their...partner had brought another. They did not know how much longer they could stall Sans’ endless curiosity. It was taking its toll.

The door slammed open. Dust fell from the ceiling. A bag of food was shoved onto the table by the door, along with three new textbooks and seven bags of fleece.

“I’ll be gone for a week this time. Don’t waste anything.”

The door slammed shut. The stamping feet retreated, each thud echoed in the two shaking skeleton’s hearts. Sans quickly got back to his reading, but they could not concentrate. They didn’t understand why. After all, he hadn’t even stayed to beat them this time.

Sans watched impassively as his father scattered his zither’s ashes on the loom. Their dust settled into every joint and filament, rendering the device completely useless. So was the lecture that followed; the general theme was duty and perseverance despite how hard life would be. None of it was new. None of it was interesting.

He accepted without contest the beating that followed. It hurt, but that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that every day that he could remember he’d found more chips and fractures in his bones. It didn’t matter that malnutrition and abuse had permanently stunted his growth. It didn’t matter that his zither’s waning magic had guttered out two months into a pregnancy they hadn’t wanted, taking them and the child they were caring beyond his father’s fists. None of that mattered.

None of that mattered because underneath the trick floorboard in his room was a small pack. The small pack held paper and pens, ink, food, and extra socks. It held all the things his zither had helped him hide away.

It also held his response to a note in the latest Journal of Magical Engineering regarding the potential manipulation of the energy contained within the Barrier to power an enormous device. The Royal Scientist himself had written the note, asking for anyone with ideas to bring them, as fleshed out as they could manage, to his laboratory. The best ideas would win their authors’ a place on his team.

Sans was confident he could win one, and if he didn’t, he’d at least be free long enough to scatter the hidden vial of ashes on the Ruins door his zither had so longed to see.

Chapter Text

Dust motes spun through the artificially lit lobby of the Royal Laboratory. They passed briefly through the miniscule tornado at the top of the escalator before wafting down to land on one scally, yellow head.

Alphys rubbed her claws nervously over one another as she shuffled through her different camera feeds. It wasn’t as though she thought her missing experiment would be causing trouble...okay, that was exactly what she was worried about. Flowey scared her. She wouldn’t put it past him to cause mischief. He’d startled her into dropping chemicals more times than she could count...well, not really, but 7 times was a lot!

Her eyes lit on one of her Snowdin Forest station feeds just as it switched and she frantically scrabbled with the keyboard to stall it. A few seconds later she was back, and the strange scene once more filled the screen.

There was her creation; his bright yellow petals were easy to distinguish from the white snow. But in front of him, wearing an obviously hand-made costume of red boots and a blue speedo under his classic red cape, was Papyrus.

It had been years since she’d last seen him. She couldn’t even remember where they met, but he had been one of her few childhood friends. He looked well, even if he still seemed to favor ridiculous clothes. Then again, skeletons aged at a much slower rate relative to saurids. He wouldn’t have nearly the same mental age as she did, now.

It didn’t seem as though he’d developed as much discretion as her, either. He looked quite enamored with Flowey’s speech, and that wasn’t good. She knew that the flower was highly manipulative, and his morals were...flexible.

She hesitantly sent her old bondmate a wave of caution and warning through their bond. After a few seconds for the video feed to catch up to reality, the Papyrus on the screen visibly jerked. At almost the same time she felt that characteristic joy her memories of him always contained. She acknowledged it, but urgently insisted that he needed to be careful.

The pixelated Flowey looked annoyed. He summoned a single bullet at the same time that Alphys felt the pain. Her rush of concern was bowled over by quick reassurance. She insisted that Papyrus was in danger, especially as she was just now seeing the amount of damage Papyrus took. He reluctantly agreed, but she got the feeling he’d search the entire Underground to ask her why. Patiently, but still.

On-screen Flowey tried to weasel something out of Papyrus. Her old friend didn’t let him. He patted the creature, who had just heaved a bullet at him out of peak, on his uppermost petals. Flowey was too hissy about this to realize Papyrus was leaving until he had already left.

Alphys followed the skeleton’s progress through several camera changes. Finally, he settled down. His legs dangled off the edge of a secluded jetty by the river. An abandoned fishing pole rested beside him.

Happy reminiscence hit her like a suplexed boulder. She nearly buckled under the force of it, but rallied enough to echo it back. Friendly curiosity followed that; then mild frustration. She agreed. Bonds were great right up until they weren’t, and then you were stuck across a chasm of spacetime without any means to bridge it. Reconnecting with someone you hadn’t seen in years was difficult to do without letters and numbers…

Alphys’ mind sparked with excitement. Papyrus, caught up in the torrent, reciprocated. It took some time for them to get calmed down enough for the scientist to convey her idea. But eventually Alphys watched, triumphant, as Papyrus carved his online username into the pure white snow.

Chapter Text

Somewhere under a mountain there is a courtyard. It hadn’t been used recently. Bits of foliage were all around the room, although a deep heap of them lay beneath the blackened tree in the center of the courtyard. There were a few stones lying on top of the trodden-down debris. They had probably fallen because of a recent and extremely loud shout of joy.

The courtyard, apart from these bits and pieces, also held a makeshift cot. The cot was pointed towards the house with its other end up against the tree. It was rather tall for a cot, which made sense when you looked at the legs. They were table legs. The cot was, in fact, a table covered in an old mattress. It was dressed in pale orange bed sheets. Also several pillows with purple blobs on it. The blobs were probably supposed to be some kind of animal, but the baked-in grape juice stains made it hard to tell.

Next to the cot was a chair worthy of the name Chairiel. It was large, soft, and well used. It was not currently in use. Instead, both of the current occupants of the courtyard were in the cot.

Papyrus held Sans in his lap, and it was clear that every effort had been made so that Sans was comfortable. Several extra pillows had been arrayed around his legs and ribcage. The blankets were wrapped around Sans like a cocoon. They covered every inch from metatarsals to temporal lobe, with only one hole left for the air supply. Perhaps it was needed. Perhaps it was not. Either way it was present. Why invite trouble?

The courtyard, despite its quiet appearance, was full of sound. It is not the usual habit for bedtime stories to be read at full volume, but for Papyrus, nothing else but complete enthusiasm would do when it came to caring for his new brother and bondmate. Thus, Fluffy Bunny received the loudest telling in the history of its existence. No one seemed to care.

Some time had passed since the big story. The bigger pieces of masonry had been taken away, and the extra pillows formerly used to cushion a new brother had been stacked in the chair. They were being sat on by a very short scientist who appreciated both the height and the relief sitting on the stack gave her thick tail. The only downside was that her yellow scales clashed horribly with the array of colors and patterns stacked beneath her. Good thing she was oblivious to fashion.

“Y-y-you know, I’ve been bonded with Papyrus f-f-for years? Friend-bonded, not family-bonded or lover-bonded or...wait.”

Alphys stopped speaking as Sans tried to rely his message. That was the thing about bonds. They weren’t language-friendly.

“You d-d-don’t...oh! You don’t know about bonds, d-d-do you? Do you want me to, um...you do? Oh...thanks. Okay.”

Alphys sat back, her thoughts trying to organize themselves into something coherent. The skeleton on the tabletop cot didn’t seem to mind the wait.

“So, uh, not all bonds are the same? The one that y-y-you and, um, Papyrus share is different than the one between you and m-m-me. The one we have is a friendship bond, which is considered the lightest of all bond types. It’s often compared to a hydrogen bond in that respect, although they are only similar on a superficial level. Friendship bonds have ramifications when they break. My first published paper was about that, actually, but my professor dismissed the findings as irrelevant. The increases in rates for minor injuries and illnesses were not within a reasonable margin of error! Just because Gavin always messed up his stoichiometry doesn’t mean every new student will!”

Her hostility snapped out of existence in the same moment her head snapped towards the cot. A gentle, mildly embarrassed smile spread across her face.

“Th-th-thanks, Sans. I, um, appreciate it. Anyway, that’s what a f-f-friendship bond is. Most other bonds start out lik-k-ke that. Well, not family bonds. I mean, sometimes they do, but...yeah.”

She looked around the room awkwardly.

“Friendship bonds are really common, actually. Like, I bonded with Papyrus when we were in stripes. He gave me this cute card. The bullets...bones? Bullet-bones formed all the words, and then they spun around and...yeah. It was sweet. I think I s-s-still have it, somewhere.”

She swallowed reflexively.

“Family bonds also are, um, directional? You can use them to f-f-find someone. Also, like, health? You can share HP. Not much, but a f-f-few points. And you c-c-can tell if they’re low. Like sick? Or just having a b-b-bad day. My dad always brought me a b-b-big glass of warm milk when I was feeling down. Even after the, um, accident. He’d put it on a cart and, um, wheel it in? Because of the l-l-leg. So it wouldn’t...spill. Yeah.”

Her head hung down at this last statement. She reached around and grabbed her tail, and for a few seconds she said nothing. Then she looked at the cot again, and once more her expression lightened.

“He’s fine. I’m working with one of the human u-u-universities to make better prosthetics. Apparently they’ve had issues getting neural connectivity? And their old models have, like, no pain sensitivity. Which was nice, but also such a disconnect...sorry.”

“Anyway, the last category is...well, romantic. So it’s much harder to break? And there’s other b-b-bene-”

Alphys’ mouth remained open. She stared at the cot, where a very, very bright blue light was coming through the covers. It seemed the rechanneler was working. It was a device designed to send magic spikes in the CORE out into the coolant liquid that had been chilled by ice from Snowdin; they had repurposed it to deal with Sans’ extreme magical output. All it did was encourage the magic to go a certain way. In this case it was channeling into a battery.

“I’ll, um...not talk about th-th-that, then. You can...there’s, um...if you...Undernet!”

After the last word had left her mouth at an extremely high pitch, she smashed both hands over her mouth and turned bright red. She stayed that way for some time. Eventually she was led away by a kind Asgore who was not unacquainted with her tendency to overheat.

“Okay, nerd, here’s the thing.”

Undyne dropped into the chair like she had a personal grudge against it.

“I’ve known you for, what, eight years now? Ten? That’s like a third of my lifetime, punk, so it’s significant. And I’ve seen hundreds of bonds. So you never asking about it? That didn’t make sense to me. Especially since you said you were more than 200 years old. How could you not have asked someone, or read something? You’re a fricking scientist, apparently, and a smart one, too. This could have fricking killed you! You were dying, starving your bloody SOUL for kindness and compassion, and why? Because you were too lazy? Because you were too- too...”

Her body sank into itself as the fury left her in one breath.

“Sorry. I just...you scared us, punk. Papyrus was beside himself, the Queen baked, like, 7000 pies, Frisk almost called Interpol...I was going to strangle you. How could you do that to them? They care about you! How could you...but you didn’t know. You didn’t…”

She closed her eye and turned her head aside.

“I looked up some stuff,” She winced, her eye patch lit by the glow of gold and blue, “I know, I know, it was rude, and I’m sorry! I just...I needed to know why. If I’d...well, I’d still have looked. Sorry, but I’m a stubborn idiot. Guess we both are.”

Her voice dropped lower than the lowest limbo bar.

“He was messed up. Like, seriously fu-”

She stopped. The floating skull that hung in the air before her blinked. Then it dissolved, and she rushed over to the skeleton on the bed.

“Whoa, hey hey hey. Dude, chill, it’s not your fau- Hey! Listen to me, okay? Sans. SANS. SANS!”

Nothing got through to the rattling body on the cot. Undyne’s skin creaked with the force of her grip as she clenched her fists. Then the sound was echoed by the wood of the table as she gripped the table cot and lifted it above her head. Two pillows fell into the dirt. The purple blobs disapproved.

Undyne then ran, table and all, into the house while screaming for Papyrus at the top of her voice.

An indefinable amount of time passed. Or perhaps it was definable. Three hours, forty-seven minutes and twenty-nine seconds is a definite amount of time. But time is relative, and to certain people, irrelevant. Flowey had fallen into both categories. He liked it better when he got to be the one defining things (for a given value of liked) .

Sans and the cot had returned to the courtyard. They didn’t look any worse for the wear, although perhaps the pillows had another stain or two on them. No one was in the chair at the moment, nor anywhere around it. The opportunity was perfect.

Flowey dug himself up into the flowerbed by the tree; several leaves were displaced for the hundredth (or was it the third?) time. He pushed himself and his burden up level with the cot’s occupant. Then he tucked a small item into the space between Sans’ mandible and clavicle. The amount of time any trace of him could be seen after that was measurable in nanoseconds.

If one looked closely at the item against Sans one might, might notice that it was a bear. It would be hard, because it looked a lot more like a tea cosy. But it was a bear, and moreover, it was a familiar bear. It had last been seen by the skeleton in the far corner of the space under the Ambassador’s bed. Even in the dark it could be still be seen, because that shade of violent pink had a tendency to smack people over the head with brightness.

Sans would no doubt feel appreciated when he learned what he’d been given. Frisk’s gift of a hatedly pink piece of the Surface to the flower they were determined to rescue had been jealously guarded, and knowing it had been given to him...well, it showed promise.

A scientist always retains a little bit of curiosity, even in their worst moments (the good ones, anyway). So it was perhaps not surprising that Sans, blind and motionless for the moment, would wonder how much of the room he was in had been filled by the smoke from Doggo’s dog treat. There was certainly airflow in and out, so it wouldn’t completely fill. However, the sensation of greasy smoke clinging to his still-too-rough bone surface was quite strong. Sans would bet good money on the room being at least 1/3 filled.

“Then ‘Essa said she’d only given birth to four of them! Still cute, though. Not quite so talkative, but eager as anything.”

Doggo sucked in another long drag. He’d long since given up on sitting in the chair. He’d settled for sprawling  his tail had swept a good square meter of the courtyard free of dirt. A pile of doggends at least ten strong were crumpled next to his head on the floor. One of them still smouldered.

“It’s weird, y’know. Having pups around the place. Meeting new people.”

Given just how long Doggo was taking to breath, Sans guessed he was zoned out of his mind.

“Getting out of here changed so much. There’s just… so much! I kinda miss the old days. You know, right? Not, like, the really old days, but...like, when you came to Snowdin? And you tripped over that present. Man, was ‘Essa mad at you. But then you found a brand new strand and...in the middle of the night? Or maybe it was the morning, I don’t know. It looked so pretty with the colored lights. Much better than the white ones. That was nice.”

Doggo sighed, “You guys have always been so nice to me. You never yelled or got mad. Not once! Well, Papyrus yells, but that’s, like, just him. And you did put a dog whistle in the trees that one time. That hurt. But you took it down...so nice.”

He huffed in a big drag and said, “We should, you know, really do that thing. You know… Oh, you don’t? That thing! With the fuddy-duddies. Heh. Fuddy-duddies.”

Doggo looked up at Sans. A slow grin spread across his face. He said, “Heh. Yeah, is a weird word. And their weird people. Can't wait until we get to, uh... What were we gonna do again?”

Doggo tilted his head, listening to a voice without words. Then he said, “Oh, right. Right! Fun prank, fun prank! Prank!”

His laughter echoed around the courtyard and into the corridors beyond.

Toriel sniffed as she settled into the chair for her watch. She said, “Doggo promised me he would not smoke near you. Newly bonded are in a uniquely vulnerable position with regards to environmental stimuli. He should not have lied to me.”

She sighed, looking over to the table with mild sadness. She said, “it is so hard to be a teacher and a mother. At some point everyone becomes, to some extent, your child. Do not take it the wrong way; I love to teach. Sometimes, though, it feels as if any time someone is hurt or makes a mistake that it is my fault.”

Her head came up slowly. She looked fondly at Sans, “Thank you for the reassurance, my friend,” Then her face darkened and she said, “I so dearly wish to destroy whoever raised you like this. You are a kind and charming young monster, but you are very lucky that you are not dead. Your guardian was either playing a very risky game or being deliberately neglectful.”

She jerked as if struck by a slap. Then she sighed, averting her eyes from the figure on the bed. She said, “I know I am biased. Someone taught you to be a wonderful monster. Asgore has always been the better dispenser of justice. I have a tendency to blow up.”

She felt the shiver that followed in her magic, rather than saw it. It was an odd sensation, to be sure.

She spoke quietly, “No matter what happens, you will never have to face it alone.”

A grease-stained bag plopped down next to the monster on the table. It was quite large, and, from the sound, contained at least three large objects within.

The flame leaned against the table’s edge, his back to Sans. In his hands was an extremely charred burger. He took a bite.

His head swiveled to the monster behind him. He stayed like that, watching Sans, eating his burger. The silence was quite welcoming. Then he took his last bite of the burger, scrunched up the wrapper, and left.

An awkward cough split the silence around the repurposed table. It came from the throat of Asgore. He was sitting with his hands clasped on his knees. He looked like a kid waiting to be called in by the principle.

“Would you like to come over for tea some time?” The question burst from Asgore’s mouth.

Asgore watched Sans warily as he received an impression of reluctance followed by magical imitations of Gaster and Papyrus. Asgore's face fell.

“Of course your family can join you. They are more than welcome,” Asgore's face lifted, “It is quite sweet of you to think of them.”

Once more an awkward silence filled the courtyard. It was so quiet that the sounds of cooking could be heard from inside. Slowly even those died away and Asgore blurted out, “Would you like to help me plan Mother's Day? I do not want to disappoint Toriel, and she so loved your present last Giftmas.”

The feeling of agreement filled through their bond.

“Okay. Good,” Asgore looked towards the house, his mood shifting downwards, “We to need to investigate your parents further, I'm afraid. There are some things that happened to you, things your father did, that strike me too much like a pattern that was learned. Will you help us make sure that no other children have been treated as you were?”

Extremely reluctant agreement and a faint gold glow were his answer.

“Bork.”

The inquisitive bark bounced off the courtyard walls. A medium-sized white dog trotted in through the house’s door. He turned his head this way and that. When he spotted the table he fixed on it, one paw bending and hanging underneath him as he smelled the magic in the air.

It wasn’t the sad-sad that Lesser Dog associated with Sans. It was more complicated than that; an interesting mixture of loneliness, love, resignation, confusion, stress, upset, and sad. Some of those were good things. Some were not. But the not-good things were things that Lesser Dog could help to change. He walked slowly forward. He jumped up into the chair, turned around, and jumped up onto the bed.

Once he stood next to Sans he surveyed the bed. There were too many pillows up by the head of it. The base was too far away. So Lesser Dog curled up and leaned into Sans’ heal-still body. Then he laid his head on Sans’ legs and settled down. It worked on Dogessa’s puppies. Why shouldn’t it work on Sans?

In the place inside Lesser Dog where he kept his bonds neatly sorted, the feeling that was Sans shifted into gentle amusement. That was good. Happy was always good.

<...and then, when I added the carbon disulfide vapors, the whole thing exploded! I’d been hoping that the laughing gas wouldn’t be so reactive, so I suppose the solvent will have to be kept separate from now on.>

Gaster paused in his ramblings to look over at Sans. Then he smiled and said, <I suppose I could repeat the experiment, just to replicate the results. Would you like to see that when you’re up and about again?>

Excitement. Curiosity. Love.

Gaster’s smile widened. Then he frowned and said, <We’ll need to fill out some paperwork, won’t we? To make it official. The King and Queen know, of course, but surely there must be- oh? Sorry, I- I’m talking about the adoption. Would it still be called an adoption? We are adding you to our family, but you are far from being a child.>

Hesitation. Uncertainty. Love.

Gaster blasted back the love with his magic tenfold. <I love you too, Sans. As a father, I mean. A good father. What do good fathers do with their adult children? I know what I did with Papyrus, but now you’re grown. Both of you are grown! Do we still play catch? I’ve never been good at catch. I’m clumsy. And Papyrus says you like to nap a lot. Maybe we could nap together?>

Agreement. Love. Joy.

Gaster laughed and said, <I suppose we could do that. Maybe we could build a pillow fort. Papyrus used to make them when he was a kid. We’d need a lot of pillows to make a fort big enough. If we allowed for, say, four pillows per wall...>