AN: I want to take a moment to thank everyone for the response this story has been getting. Every review, favorite, and follow has meant a lot to me, especially the ones that have been coming in even weeks after the first chapter was released, because it shows that there is real interest in this story that's more than a knee-jerk reaction to something new showing up on the first page of the Undertale section. You guys have done so much to keep me motivated. I both love you all and blame you for if I end up flunking out of my grad school program because I kept thinking about how much I wanted to be writing this instead of studying for finals.
I know I originally said that this story was only going to have three parts, but in my initial outline I had planned three acts, each consisting of two scenes. Not only have I realized there is also going to need to be an epilogue that goes into some pretty deep discussion of some things mentioned in the climax, but the first scene of this second part has turned out to be long enough to rival the first chapter in its own right. So now it's looking like there will be four parts, with the second part of what was originally going to be the second chapter and the first half of what was originally going to be the third chapter being one part and the second half of the climax and the epilogue making up the fourth. Yay I guess? I'm hoping you'd enjoy the story being longer than I anticipated, though really it's just that the scenes I had planned out turned out to be much wordier than I originally thought they'd be when I was plotting out the story I wanted to tell.
It had been a little over a week since most of the monsters had seen Frisk. Not on purpose or anything, but the school year had finally started and that just made it that much harder to hang out with them. It would still be at least another year before Toriel could get a school up and running herself, so Frisk was still going to the human school they had been going to before. Things had calmed down enough on the monster ambassador stuff that they usually weren't needed for more than an hour or two each day after school, and their mother had insisted on Frisk coming straight home to work on homework afterwards rather than staying over to hang out with their monster friends. Toriel and Asgore were pretty much the only ones to have seen Frisk, and Papyrus once when there was a publicity event where it was deemed a good idea to have him there as mascot. Everyone else had been shooed away from attending anything vaguely political, on the grounds of being -on a case-by-case basis- too lazy, too socially awkward or too likely to potentially suplex a world leader.
Today was different though. It was a Saturday, and more importantly, it was the day of Mettaton's big surface debut. He was slated as the headlining guest for some late night talk show, and everyone agreed this was a cause for a celebration. There was going to be a big viewing party at the house Frisk's monster friends were all sharing until they could make their own living arrangements, and Frisk's mother had even agreed to let them sleep over. Definitely a big night.
"SANS THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE SPAGHETTI YOU BOUGHT," Papyrus complained from the kitchen. A big party required lots of food, and of course he'd be contributing his signature dish. Toriel was in charge of most of the cooking, but she had assured Papyrus that his noodles would still be a main feature. They'd just be supplemented by lots of other, more edible dishes.
"what's the problem, bro?" Sans asked as he shuffled in.
"THE NOODLES ARE TOO THIN. THEY'RE ALL FRAGILE AND STRINGY. I DON'T THINK THIS IS SPAGHETTI AT ALL."
"that's im-pasta-ble. of course it's spaghetti. see, it says right here, spaghetti-" Sans reread the label on the package before stopping midsentence. "my bad bro. you're right. this stuff isn't just thin, it's teeny. spaghet-tini." He pointed to the label, which caused Papyrus to groan loudly.
"I SWEAR, IF YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE JUST TO MAKE A STUPID PUN I AM NEVER PUTTING YOU IN CHARGE OF GROCERY SHOPPING AGAIN."
"well with that kind of incentive i almost wish i did, but if i were to take credit for it you'd have to call me an im-pasta." Sans shrugged.
"YOU ALREADY USED THAT PUN," Papyrus noted while grinding his teeth.
"no, the first time i said 'im-pasta-ble,' this time it was 'im-pasta.' same inserted word but different root words. thus different puns. but if you can't see pasta that we can just say that the first one slipped out pun-intentionally."
Papyrus was positively fuming by then, his jaw opening and closing repeatedly as he failed to think of words appropriate enough to express himself. "Knock it off both of you," Undyne shouted from the kitchen table. When she had offered to help, Toriel managed to convince her to make a salad to accompany the spaghetti instead of more pasta. Her salads were actually pretty good so long as you didn't mind bruised vegetables or dressing splattering the kitchen walls. At the very least there was less risk of anything catching fire. "Frisk will be here soon and-," Undyne was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. "That's them!" She threw the salad bowl she was holding up in the air and lettuce leaves scattered around the kitchen as she bolted for the door, eager to be the first one there. "Hey squirt! You're late! It feels like I haven't seen you in forever! Get in here al- woah, what happened to your face?"
Sans could hear Toriel give a small gasp from behind Undyne. He walked out of the kitchen to see what the fuss was. Frisk was standing at the front door with their mother just behind them, carrying an overnight bag and pillow. Frisk's right eye was surrounded by a dark ring and there was a swollen lump just above it on Frisk's forehead, the center already starting to bruise a nasty purple color. Frisk tried to duck their head shyly, but that only made the injuries more prominent.
"Frisk hit their head on our coffee table when they were roughhousing with Trip this afternoon," Susan explained, speaking up when Frisk didn't give an answer. "I was worried about them staying over, but they were very insistent on watching this show with all of you, and there doesn't seem to be any signs of a concussion or internal bleeding. If you aren't comfortable with watching over Frisk tonight though because of this, I'd understand. We can just raincheck the sleepover and I'll come back to get them at the end of the evening." She didn't sound like she was trying to make excuses to back out of their plans, just genuinely concerned about leaving her child with someone else when there was still potential for an overlooked injury.
"Nonsense. We've all been looking forward to this," Toriel insisted soothingly. "I've seen my fair share of kids bumping their heads into things, I know the sort of things a parent needs to watch out for. Frisk will be perfectly safe here tonight; I'll take good care of them." She reached out a hand and Frisk leaned into it, letting her run her fingers over the lump tenderly. Susan's shoulder's softened, and she seemed to accept her assurances.
"If you're sure you're alright with it then. I prepared a list of signs that they should be taken to a doctor, just in case, and included the names and contact information for our regular doctor and the nearest emergency clinic," she conceded, rummaging through her bag to pull out a sheet of paper. "I trust that you'll call me if anything happens, no matter what time of night?"
"Of course we will. Everything's going to be just fine," Toriel assured. Sans ducked out of the room as they did their motherly thing, discussing bedtimes or whatever it was parents did. Using a shortcut he went outside the house and waited by Frisk's mother's car. A few minutes later she emerged, waving goodbye as she walked down the steps. When she saw Sans standing there she did a double take, glancing back at the house. Guess she noticed he'd been inside earlier.
"i wanted to talk with you before you left," Sans explained, ignoring any unspoken questions about how he'd gotten past the front door without her noticing. "just be honest with me; did frisk really get that bump the way you said they did?"
Susan looked visibly offended. "You think I would lie about how my child was hurt?" she asked, sounding disgusted by the suggestion.
"no, not lie exactly. but let me rephrase the question. whose version of the story did you tell in there: trip's, frisk's, or yours?"
Her eyes widened, and then narrowed as she attempted to hide that initial shock. "I don't like what it sounds like you're trying to imply," she said quietly. "Trip is a good son, he'd never lie to me." Guess that answered that question. She hadn't seen the fight herself; she was taking Trip's word for what happened. Maybe he should try another approach.
"what about this roughhousing? he's more than a foot taller than frisk and he's got at least fifty pounds on the kid. not exactly a fair fight." Maybe he was just being unfair in comparing a teenager who doesn't know his own strength with Papyrus, but his brother could control himself, he'd never hurt someone more than he intended to.
"It wasn't a fight! They were just messing around and Frisk got hurt, it happens all the time."
"which 'it?' the roughhousing or frisk getting hurt by it?"
Susan gaped for a moment, opening and closing her mouth a few times. It was almost a perfect imitation of what Papyrus had done just a few minutes before back in the kitchen. Huh, it was a lot less funny when she did that. Finally she managed to compose herself enough to say with barely contained distain, "I have two healthy, active, amazing kids. Yes, they have a lot of arguments, and yes, Frisk sometimes gets hurt from them, but it's always an accident. Trip knows I'd never let him get away with hurting them on purpose." But she somehow let it slide if she could believe he hadn't meant to hurt them, and she was willing to believe a lot.
Sans sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere by making accusations without proof and pressing her further was just causing her to close up tighter. "maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. i'm not trying to make you out as a bad parent or anything, i just want to look out for my friend. you'd understand that right? let me know if they've got any problems?"
Susan sniffed. "Well, I think you're looking in the wrong places then," she told him as she opened her car door. It was pretty clear she didn't intend to let this conversation last much longer. "You know, there is one thing I've noticed that's bothering Frisk. Trip's got this animal skull collection, ghastly thing but if it got him interested in science I'll allow it." Sans nodded, remembering the line of skulls he'd seen at their house. "Sometimes he'll leave the skulls in strange places as a joke, you know, like you'll open a closet and find a dead cow staring you down," That didn't sound very funny to Sans, though he'd admit he's done similar stuff to Papyrus in the past. Just not with skulls, never with skulls. "Well, that never really bothered Frisk much before, but lately it's been upsetting them a lot more. They've even had nightmares about it. I've been woken up by them crying out in their sleep about sharp toothed skulls with glowing eyes. Then again," she looked pointedly at Sans. "Who's to say that Trip's really the one to blame for that?"
Now it was Sans' turn to gape openly as she drove away. She wasn't serious about that. She couldn't be serious about that. She wouldn't be letting her kid stay over overnight if she honestly thought Frisk was scared of him. She just said that as a little pointed dig to get back at him for making accusations about her son. But damn if she hadn't stumbled on the exact right thing to really get him rattled.
Sans had a theoretical knowledge of other timelines, mainly from a vague sense of déjà vu that left him feeling paranoid whenever there was something that happened that could have ended differently. It was that vague feeling combined with being a good read of people so he could guess how they'd react to something that allowed him to map out what he thought was a complete map of all the variables and their potential outcomes. This of course included his own reactions to things, but there were some timelines he was just better mentally prepared for than others. Hope for the best and prepare for the worst, right? Since most if not all of the variables he knew about centered around Frisk, he was pretty sure the kid knew a lot more about this stuff than he did, though how deeply they'd explored it he couldn't really say. A timeline where he'd scare Frisk, traumatize them enough to cause nightmares like the ones she described, well, that was firmly in the category of "the worst." But as he was such a good read of people, he could usually tell when the kid was acting with knowledge of some other timeline. They'd never shown signs of being afraid of him before. There was no way that they had done something that would make him make them afraid of him.
It took him way too long to compose himself enough to finally be able to come back inside. Frisk was rolling out their sleeping bag by the couch in front of the television in the living room. Frisk's face was already looking better - healing magic took longer to fix physical injuries than magical ones, but they'd still probably be good as new by morning. The sullen, squinty look on their face still hadn't gone away though.
"THERE YOU ARE SANS! FRISK WAS TELLING US ABOUT THEIR NEW PET!" Papyrus said when he reentered the living room. Frisk looked up when Papyrus called out to him, and for a moment, a brief flash, Sans thought that they tensed up when they saw him. Maybe there was more to Susan's accusations than he thought. Or maybe he just hadn't done as good a job as he thought at covering up how much the conversation outside had bothered him and they were reacting to his own irritation. Or maybe it was just his imagination and he had himself looking for signs that weren't there.
"your mom agreed to let you keep the dog, then?" Sans asked, keeping his voice light to defuse the slight tension.
Frisk nodded. "Trial basis. If it behaves and I take care of it she'll let it stay," they explained. Sans wasn't quite sure what 'behaving' would mean for that dog. Not stealing stuff? Only leaving dog residue out in the yard? Whatever it took to stick around, it probably would just barely toe the line.
"Have you given it a name yet?" Toriel asked as she came back from the kitchen. She was setting out the last few dishes for their meal. It really was a nice spread, even the snail pie smelled delicious, the scent of garlic and butter overwhelming any potential ickiness.
Frisk shook their head no. Papyrus mumbled something about calling it 'bone thief,' but it was actually Alphys that spoke up first. "Y-you should, you should call it Toby!" she exclaimed suddenly. Everyone stared at her for a moment. Where did that come from? "Erm, I mean, I've been reading this old human mystery series because some people on the anime forum I've been going on recommended it, well they didn't really recommend it they recommended this modern adaptation of it but I wanted to read the original to get a better understanding of it, and the main character has this dog named Toby. Well, he doesn't really have it, he just borrows it from a friend whenever he needs to track a scent, and I think that canonically he only ever used it once, but the fans really like the dog and it keeps popping up in fan works so I thought maybe it would be a good name for a dog that keeps popping up unexpectedly…" Alphys trailed off.
"That's a dumb name," Frisk snapped. Now Sans was staring at the kid. Did they really just say that? It wasn't like them to insult anyone, especially not awkward, nervous Dr. Alphys, who was looking embarrassed and crushed at the dismissal.
"Oh…N-no you're right. You wouldn't want to name a pet after a character you've never heard of before. That was stupid of me," she said quietly. There was another awkward silence in the group. "H-Hey, is dinner ready yet? I'm starving!" She hastily attempted to change the conversation. Willing to go along with it, everyone agreed that it was time to eat and they all sat down at the table.
Dinner resumed a more normal tone as everyone avoided the topic of pet names. Toriel told them about the progress she was making with getting the accreditation she'd need to teach on the surface. Asgore talked about the plans that were proceeding for the new monster "embassy" being built in town, mainly his plans for the garden. Even Alphys was coaxed into talking about her work a little, cheering up as she explained the complex new magic tech she was creating in collaboration with some human scientists. The government was mostly interested in it to better understand the monsters' level of technological advancement, but it was interesting work, and she was better at integrating magic and technology than she was at experimentation with souls, so it was exciting stuff to her. Everyone assured Papyrus that his spaghettini was fine, and no one minded that it turned out mushy from the thin noodles being cooked as long as you would normal spaghetti.
After dinner Sans excused himself from the clean-up by claiming he'd need to take a nap if he was going to be awake enough to watch this late night program. Frisk had been excused too of course, by virtue of being the guest, and after a brief "discussion" on who should keep them company (It very nearly would have been called a brawl if Toriel hadn't broken it up and ordered Papyrus and Undyne to settle it with a game of rock-paper-scissors) Papyrus was excused as well. Sans would have expected him to want to spend the time playing with action figures, but he apparently had other plans.
"FRISK, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, BEING SUCH A GREAT FRIEND, HAVE NOTICED YOU WERE BEHAVING IRRITABLY TONIGHT. YOUR MOTHER LISTED THAT AS ONE OF THE POSSIBLE SIGNS OF A LATE-SURFACING CONCUSSION, SO I THINK WE SHOULD GO OVER THE OTHER POINTS ON HER LIST TO SEE IF THIS IS SOMETHING SERIOUS!" How did he manage to still sound excited about head trauma? And how did he come to the idea that that was the answer for tonight's tension? For all his supposed skill at reading people, and despite his earlier concern at their injuries, that answer probably wouldn't have occurred to Sans. Sans made an extra effort to look like he was asleep so they wouldn't notice him listening in.
"I'm fine Papyrus," Frisk mumbled irritably.
"YOU ARE NOT FINE. YOU REFUSED TO GIVE HIS MAJESTY A HUG WHEN YOU GREETED HIM, WOULDN'T TOUCH A BITE OF MY SPAGHETTI, AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON HOW YOU BEHAVED TOWARDS ALPHYS." More stuff Sans had failed to notice. Man, Papyrus was really picking up the slack for him. As usual. "YOU HAVE BEEN THE TEXTBOOK DEFINITION OF 'CRANKY' ALL EVENING AND I DEMAND WE GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS!"
"Well, it's not a concussion. Toriel healed me already, remember? I'm fine."
"I KNOW," the skeleton sighed. Uh-oh. That was Pap's serious tone. He usually only used that when he'd try to get Sans to talk about his problems. "I THOUGHT BLAMING IT ON A HEAD INJURY WOULD GIVE YOU A READY EXCUSE FOR YOUR BEHAVIOR. IT SEEMED BETTER THAN THE OTHER REASON I COULD THINK OF. YOU'VE BEEN MEAN TO EVERYONE TODAY BECAUSE YOU HAD A BAD DAY, AND YOU WANTED TO TAKE IT OUT ON OTHERS TO MAKE YOURSELF FEEL BETTER, AM I RIGHT?"
There wasn't an immediate response from Frisk. Going against all good eavesdropping instincts Sans opened an eye partway so he could see what was going on. The kid's face was all scrunched up, like they wanted to cry but were stubbornly holding back tears. "Bad few days," they corrected quietly before rushing over to Papyrus. The larger skeleton barely had time to open his arms to welcome them into a hug, scooping up the small child and falling back onto the nearby armchair. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," they whispered burying their face in Papyrus' ribcage.
"IT'S ALRIGHT FRISK. EVERYBODY HAS BAD DAYS AND THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL ALWAYS BE THERE FOR YOU. BUT TELL ME, DID BEING MEAN ACTUALLY MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER AT ALL?" Frisk shook their head, face still pressed against his chest. "THERE'S YOUR PROBLEM THEN! WE NEED TO FIGURE OUT WHAT WOULD MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER AFTER A BAD DAY!" Papyrus gently straightened Frisk up, looking them in the eye with a bright smile. "LET'S SEE, UNDYNE'S METHOD FOR CHEERING HERSELF UP USUALLY INVOLVES PROPERTY DAMAGE." He rubbed his jaw bone, thinking hard about it. "I'M NOT SO SURE THAT'S A GOOD SOLUTION, ACTUALLY. NOW SANS," Sans quickly forced his eye shut again at the mention of his name. Didn't want them to look over at him and catch him peeping. "WHEN SANS HAS A BAD DAY, HE USUALLY GOES OVER TO GRILLBY'S AND EATS SOMETHING GREASY AND DISGUSTING." This was true.
"Then he does that way too much," Frisk pointed out. Also true. Well, at least they sounded like they were cheering up a little, getting caught up in Papyrus' eagerness to help bring them out of their funk.
"NYEH HEH HEH," he chuckled conspiratorially. "MAYBE YOU SHOULD TELL HIM THAT FOR ME NEXT TIME. HE'S STOPPED LISTENING WHEN I SAY IT." Not true. "LET'S SEE, WHO ELSE CAN WE USE AS AN EXAMPLE?"
"What about you? What do you do when you've had a bad day?"
"ME? WELL I…" Sans couldn't remember the last time Papyrus had had a really bad day, at least one bad enough to affect his boundless optimism. He half expected him to claim that he didn't get bad days, or if he did, say something about making pasta or creating puzzles. "WHEN I HAVE A BAD DAY I TRY AND UNDERSTAND WHAT CAUSED THE BAD DAY, SEE IF I CAN FIX IT AND MAKE IT BETTER. THAT WAY WHAT STARTED OUT AS A BAD DAY TURNS INTO A GOOD DAY!"
"But what do you do if it's not something you can fix? Like it's just part of who they are, no matter how much you hate it?" Another silence, Papyrus apparently stumped for an answer. "Like Sans' jokes. You can complain about them all you want but he's still going to make them."
"FRISK, I…" Uh oh, Sans could hear the tension in Paps' voice. He was about to say something serious again. "HONESTLY I DON'T ACTUALLY HATE SANS' JOKES AT ALL." That nearly got Sans to open his eyes fully this time. This was the first he heard of that. "THEY CAN BE VERY FUNNY, IF OFTEN ILL TIMED. AND I ENJOY SEEING HIM USE HIS BRAIN FOR SOMETHING, EVEN IF IT'S THINKING UP MORE RIDICULOUS PUNS RATHER THAN COMING UP WITH NEW PUZZLES."
"So if they're funny, why not laugh at them instead?" Frisk asked confused.
"IT'S JUST ALWAYS BEEN SOMETHING WE DID, HE'LL MAKE A JOKE, AND I'LL GET MAD ABOUT IT, BUT EVEN WHEN I'M MAD HE KNOWS I STILL THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. I THINK HE ACTUALLY ENJOYS ME GETTING MAD OVER HIS JOKES MORE THAN HE WOULD ENJOY IT IF I LAUGHED AT THEM." Although Sans had never thought enough about it to put it into those words, Papyrus might have been on to something. Their little routine (Alphys once called it 'tsukkomi boke' which Sans could only assume meant 'casual punnery') was comfortable for him, and no matter how mad Papyrus got, he could tell his brother still enjoyed it as much as he did. Any other sort of reaction from his brother would be unthinkable at this point.
"BUT TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION, WHEN IT'S NOT SOMETHING I CAN FIX, I FOCUS INSTEAD ON THE OTHER THINGS IN MY LIFE THAT ARE GOOD. THINGS LIKE, BEING OUT HERE ON THE SURFACE WITH YOU AND ALL MY FRIENDS. THAT SEEMS PRETTY GREAT TO ME DON'T YOU THINK?"
"Yeah, it does." Frisk answered. There was another quiet moment, this time more calm than any of the other tense or awkward ones that came before it that night. "Hey Papyrus, I think I know what's going to make me feel better. I want to have a good time with everyone tonight. Do you think we can still do that?"
"NYEH HEH HEH, I THINK THAT CAN BE ARRANGED," he chuckled again. "YOU SHOULD PROBABLY MAKE A POINT TO APOLOGIZE TO DR. ALPHYS THOUGH. IT WOULD MEAN A LOT TO HER IF YOU DID." Sans sighed contently and sank deeper into the couch. Man his brother was awesome. He certainly wouldn't have been able to give the kid that kind of pep talk, and now thanks to it the evening that had started to sour was back on track for being a great day. He was still bothered by what had caused Frisk to be in that mood in the first place, but that was a problem to be solved another day, when there wasn't good food, friends, and a cheesy television program to be enjoyed.