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#cheeruptheskeleton
Note: This story is not mine. It is written by CourierNew over on AO3, and I am crossposting their story here with their permission to be able to share their wonderful work with the community as well. A link to their account can be found on my profile. Day One is also missing.
Day 1: Games
"I think you'll really like this one," Frisk was saying.
"Journey?" said Sans, peering at the image on the screen. "I'm gonna guess some kind of journey is involved."
Frisk giggled. "Yup!"
"Straightforward. I like it."
"You play as this little creature trying to cross a treacherous landscape to reach your goal," Frisk said, smiling. Now didn't that just sound so familiar?
"I like their little scarf."
"The scarves are important! The further you go, the longer your scarf gets, and the more you can do with it."
Sans started up the game. Frisk had been recommending games to him for weeks now, and Sans was in a mood to humor them. This "Journey" seemed uncomplicated enough.
"Guessing I use the scarf to fight people?"
"Nope. You don't fight anyone." Frisk said, leaning against him. They had a good feeling about this game and were eager to see what he thought. This was one of their favorites.
Sans watched the opening cinematic in silence. Once the game started, Sans spent a few minutes figuring out the controls.
"So I'm supposed to head toward the weird tuning fork mountain, huh?"
"Mm-hmm. That's your goal."
"Why do I want to go there?"
"The story reveals itself as you go."
"This desert's pretty," Sans said and then shot a grin at Frisk. "Pretty deserted."
Frisk snorted.
They both fell into silence. Frisk watched Sans traverse the game world, occasionally sneaking glances at the skeleton's face to see what he thought. He got a kick out of sliding down sand dunes. Once he got to the first area, Frisk could tell he was sold.
"Oh, man," he said at one point. "You didn't tell me I could fly."
"Hee hee! Isn't it great?"
"I gotta get me one of those scarves."
An hour passed. Frisk had thought that Sans would put the game down sooner than this–he had a hard time committing to games, or anything really–but Sans kept playing. More telling was that Sans was playing the game in virtual silence. He usually had plenty of commentary and jokes to offer. He was completely insufferable when they were playing Smash Brothers.
"How come the world is so…empty?" he said at one point. Frisk didn't answer. He was so into the game, they wanted him to experience it all for himself.
"Oh. That's why. Jeez. That's sad."
Frisk watched his face while he played. By the second hour, he was completely invested. There was a much wider variety of emotions playing across his features than normal. Sadness, joy, worry, confusion, triumph when he figured out a puzzle or found a hidden item. It was rather enthralling for Frisk to watch.
They couldn't help feeling a bit proud. They'd picked out the perfect game for him, it seemed.
At about four hours, Sans was reaching the end of the game, and he still hadn't put the controller down even once.
"Oh no," Sans said, breaking several long minutes of silence. He leaned forward on the couch, watching as the creature on the screen struggled to climb a frozen mountain.
"Are they slowing down? Oh no, they're slowing down. No, no, come on little guy. You're almost there. Just a little further."
Frisk scooted forward, sitting on the edge of the couch. They remembered this part of the game. This part had made them cry.
"Just keep going," they urged, remembering the parts that came after this.
"They're slowing down." Sans's voice was strained. "Am I freezing to death?"
"Stay determined."
"Ahh, come on. Come on, we're so close. We're almost there. Don't…" Sans faltered, grip tightening on the controller. "Don't give up."
On the screen, the little creature struggled a few more paces and then collapsed in the snow.
"No, come on. Get up." Sans started pushing every button.
Nothing happened. Frisk looked sidelong at Sans. They knew what came next, but Sans didn't. Slowly, he stopped pressing buttons. He set the controller on his lap. He looked…almost heartbroken.
"That's it? I don't…did I do it wrong?"
"Sans, it's okay," Frisk said quietly, hooking their arm through his. "Just wait a bit."
The usual grin was coming back to his face.
"Heh. We got so close but…"
He trailed off as something on the screen changed.
"Oh." His eyesockets widened. "Oh! Oh man."
The cinematic finished, and Sans burst out with relieved laughter.
"Hah, wow, that was–hey, look at me now."
Frisk beamed as Sans tore through the rest of the game. He was grinning for real, encouraging the creature on the screen, even whooping a little at the more triumphant parts. He fell silent again for the last minute of the game, as the creature reached its goal.
The screen went white and then the credits started to play. Sans collapsed back on the couch.
"Wow," he said, sounding almost winded. "That was…"
"A journey?" Frisk said, grinning ear to ear.
"Heh, yeah." Sans ruffled their hair. "What a good game. They really got me with that part in the snow. I thought that was the end."
"So you liked it?"
"I loved it." Sans pulled Frisk into a one-armed hug. "Really makes you feel things. Heh. And what a nice payoff. We made it in the end."
He turned a bit so he could look at Frisk, his gaze meeting Frisk's for just a moment.
"We made it."
Frisk felt like crying, but not from sadness. "Yeah."
"Thank you, Frisk."