Sorry I keep delaying this. It's a slow start before getting to the good stuff and I'm always tired for some reason. And constantly distracted by the littlest things. Plus I had two tests this week I had to revise for.
I think I'm starting to get the hang of these characters, but everything's still scary and new and I'm curious about how people will like the story when it's all finished and done, ehe.
Still, thanks so much for taking an interest in this. It means so much. I hope this plot won't disappoint. I wonder what everyone thinks will happen...
...
"Are you sure this is okay?" Toriel asked yet another time, clutching her handbag with a little too much force. It was late evening now, but the sun was still hanging on and the shadows of the surrounding buildings were only just starting to lengthen. It was warm out, hot even, but Toriel had decided to wear her best cardigan, complete with shiny brooch, because the walk home would certainly be cold, plus, she needed to set a good example for the other staff in everything down to dress sense.
It didn't feel 'okay' to her, leaving Frisk alone for the evening, not being by their side. Then again, they wouldn't exactly be alone.
Just separated from her.
The others, she had faith they wouldn't be left alone, but that hadn't happened and the trust she had when it came to other people and her children was damaged. For good, it seemed.
But Frisk needed their independence or they'd never step out of her shadow!
Sans and Papyrus stood in the doorway, trying their best to look trustworthy and responsible. She wasn't sure why they were putting in so much effort; she definitely trusted them, and knew Papyrus had a good heart, Sans too. Was it for her benefit? Well she certainly appreciated the effort. It let her calm down that bit more, though she still wasn't completely relaxed, and never would be in this situation. She'd let her guard down once before, gotten too complacent and look where it landed her!
"Of course, Ms Dreemurr!" Papyrus beamed, practically buzzing with anticipation and unable to stop himself giving a little salute.
"Oh please," she chuckled, "Toriel is fine. I keep telling you." No one referred to their lecturers by their lasts names at this level of education, but it was a habit Papyrus was finding hard to shake.
"Bed time is at eight," she told them yet another time, "I baked a pie which is cooling on the kitchen worktop. They are allowed one slice and one hour of television before bed, and you two are welcome to as many slices as you like and can watch what you want when Frisk is asleep, within reason. My number is by the phone in the hall; call me the moment something goes wrong, or if you have any questions."
"Nothing will go wrong," Sans insisted, "there's two of us and one of them. I'm sure we can both keep an eye on the kid. We don't kid around with this kind of business."
Toriel sighed before kneeling down and giving Frisk a tight hug. "Be good, you," she ordered, "and I will see you tomorrow. Listen to what Sans and Papyrus tell you, understand? Or you will be sans a happy mummy."
Frisk nodded, hugging her back just as tight before letting go and jumping back.
"I am serious about the pie," Toriel added after straightening up, "you both look like you are in need of good food. I have some leftover chicken in the fridge too; feel free to warm that up."
"That's very kind of you," Sans replied, "I've always wanted to give your cooking a pie."
"Well then," Toriel shifted awkwardly, "I really should be going." Her face said it was the last thing she wanted to do.
Frisk gave a wave before dragging their babysitters back and shutting the door. They turned to the other two, rubbing their hands together.
Okay now what?, they asked.
Papyrus beamed as he pulled a cardboard box out of his shoulder bag. "Connect four!"
Frisk clapped their hands together and ran into the sitting room, Papyrus soon following.
"Hey, I'm just gonna look around, if that's okay with you?" And by that, he was going to look through all of Toriel's things and find the food. Because he was a terrible houseguest at heart. Just ask Grillby!
He could leave the other two alone for a few minutes, right? It's not like they'd set fire to anything or accidentally set off an explosion. Or eat all the food. Well, he hoped not.
Sans wandered into the kitchen, catching a noseful of the pie resting by the window and taking a peek in the fridge to find a plate of quarter chickens covered in red seasoning and marinade. The others didn't seem too hungry so he left the food for later and moved back into the hall, taking in the various profession and not-so photographs of mother and child lining the walls. Although he had a handful of photos with his mother, Papyrus had none, given that she'd died within minutes of him being born, and at the time it didn't look like her infant child would live for long either. But Pap pulled through somehow, not for the last time.
He would never be able to tell Papyrus the truth. The kid might blame himself! As far as he knew, their mother left to become a dolphin trainer when he was little, and it was something their dad had been all too pleased to go along with for the time being, to keep his youngest in that little bubble of innocence, or ignorance.
Sans' socks patted over the carpet as he walked through the hall. The window at the end was spilling in blinding late afternoon sunlight across the walls, floor and the pot of flowers resting on a little table. Everything from the yellow wallpaper to the petals slowly falling onto the shining varnish screamed gently of spring and summer, of warmth. Just like Toriel.
A sign hanging from the door next to him caught his eye, and he gulped as he pulled on the handle.
Toriel's room was neat, like the rest of the house, and cosy-looking, with more books and flowers and the comfiest bed he'd ever seen, complete with a thick quilt. If he was completely honest with himself, he was exhausted after shifts at two different jobs today and the temptation to take a nap was almost too much to resist.
He nearly slipped on the polished floorboards as he moved further into the room, deciding it highly rude to look through her drawers or at the contents of her desk, and took a peek out the window at the garden before glancing back at the bed. The irresistible urge to take a nap was back. There were pillowcases on the pillows and everything; he'd not used pillowcases in months! And under the quilt was probably a thick, fluffy duvet covered in a clean sheet and that crochet blanket draped over the bottom half added an extra layer of warmth!
How much trouble would he be in if Toriel came home to find him asleep? It would probably depend on what incredibly dangerous and irresponsible things Papyrus and Frisk did that he could've prevented by being awake.
Still, he could cross that bridge when he came to it, Sans decided as he pulled off his jacket and climbed onto the bed, quilt cool under his t-shirt and skin. If he didn't get under the covers, move the cushions and upset everything, maybe Toriel would never know and he was comfy like this, more so than he ever was in his own bed, tiny and never made, or whatever corner of the pub he chose to curl up in. Toriel's bed was a large queen-size, one he could stretch out on like a starfish and feel truly in heaven. What would be better? Well, maybe snuggling next to Tori's warm body, her arms around him, him taking in her smell, maybe even tickling her face with his stubble. Even now, though she wasn't here, the scent of perfume and cinnamon clung to the blankets and he rolled onto his front to take a whiff of one of the pillows.
And, out of the corner of his eye, he caught Papyrus and Frisk glaring at him from the doorway.
"Ahem," his brother began, and Sans yelped as he jumped off the bed. He didn't look either of them in the eyes as he desperately petted cushions and straightened the quilt.
"I was just gonna take a nap," he mumbled, snatching up his jacket, "the bed looked comfy."
"Sans you are supposed to be helping me look after the child!" He jerked an arm towards Frisk, who was preoccupied with giggling.
"You seemed to be doing a good job by yourself."
I came to find you because Papyrus keeps cheating at Connect four, Frisk told him with the flattest expression they could muster.
"I do not!" Papyrus huffed, hands now on his hips as he puffed out his chest, "the Great Papyrus never cheats! I have no need for such a thing."
You keep making up rules that let you win!
"I am simply increasing the fun value of the game."
For you maybe!
Sans scrubbed his face with a hand, giving a long, slow sigh. "Pap, cool kids don't cheat. If it's not in the rule book, it doesn't belong in the game."
"Right-o, brother!"
"And Frisk," Sans gulped, "please don't tell yer mother about this."
Frisk rubbed their chin, smiling a devilish grin.
Sans groaned. "I'll let you have an extra slice of pie if you don't tell the old lady anything."
I guess you don't want me to tell Mama what you just called her either.
"If you please."
"So," Papyrus shifted uncomfortably, "why were you here? In Ms Dreemurr's room."
"Like I said bro, I was trying to sleep."
Why were you smelling Mama's stuff?
"Because she smells nice, you'll understand when you're older." Sans wondered if he could take a leaf from his brother's book and climb out the window to escape an awkward situation, because if this wasn't awkward he didn't know what was.
I think pie smells nice.
"Yeah, lazybones!" Papyrus beamed, "stop sleeping in other people's beds and prepare us some pie whilst I beat this child fare and square!"
Well, time to scrape some dignity back. He didn't even know dignity was important to him until this very moment where it had been taken away in such a humiliating manner.
"Yeah alright, c'mon kid," he chuckled, ruffling Frisk's hair as he walked past. "And big kid." He reached up to pat Papyrus' stomach, causing the guy to giggle, hands over his mouth.
"Now, get outta here before Toriel comes home and wonders what the hell we're doing here lookin' all quilty."
…
After that initial incident, the evening continued on as normal. Papyrus and Frisk eventually grew bored of connect four, and moved on to a simple word game Frisk had referred to as 'Constantinople' after writing the word at the top of two pieces of paper. Luckily for Sans, it was a silent game, and neither had said a word since finishing their chicken and pie, the bones and crumbs left on the plates scattered across the coffee table. He really should clean those up, Sans mused, but for the time being he was comfy sprawled out on the sofa, eyes drooping as he yawned, feeling heavier each second. He could always take a nap now; the other two were sat across from each other at the table in front of him, scribbling away like their futures depended on it.
Papyrus groaned and rubbed his face, throwing his pencil on the table and leaning back.
"Okay," he sighed, "I admit defeat. 10 words made from the letters in 'Constantinople'. Beat that, child who has never taken an exam."
Frisk grinned, turning their paper around and sliding it across the table.
26.
Papyrus gritted his teeth, exhaling sharply. "I cannot even beat a small child! What a fantastic university student I am. Ms Dreemurr will be so disappointed when she finds out."
"Relax bro, you study cooking, not english."
"I know, but…" Papyrus scanned the list of words before him, tongue between teeth, double-checking and nodding to himself. "Uh huh, 26 it is. How did you get so smart?"
School.
"Right."
Sans laughed before glancing down at his watch, sitting bolt upright. "Hey kid! You only got half an hour before bed. Want Paps to read you a story, or another game?"
Story!
"Oh goodie!"
"Okay then, get pyjamas on and teeth brushed and all that. Pap will be up in a bit. Be good or you'll have a bed time!"
Frisk nodded and scrambled up, disappearing out the room as Papyrus sighed and poked at the mess on the table.
"Hey, will you clean these up?" he asked.
"Okay." Sans didn't move.
"Now."
"Okay."
Papyrus groaned. "You're not going to, are you?"
"I will yeah!"
Another groan. Papyrus stacked the plates in a neat pile and stood up, carrying them across the hall to the kitchen. Sans grinned to himself as he snuggled deeper into the sofa, which, funnily enough, also smelt like Toriel. It was bad and he knew it, but if he put off doing something long enough, Papyrus usually ended up doing it for him, and that suited them both just fine.
As if on cue, Papyrus stuck his head back round the door, frowning at him like a disappointed parent.
"Sans," he dragged the word out, "if those dishes aren't washed by the time I've finished Frisk's story, I'm telling Ms Dreemurr just how much of a slacking weirdo you really are."
"But Pap!"
"Get to it, lazybones."
Sans let out a pained groan as he hauled himself off the sofa. On the other hand, his brother could occasionally find a way to get him off his slothful butt. Occasionally.
…
"Well, I have to say the place is spotless," Toriel noted as she glanced around, "if I did not know any better, I would scarcely believe a growing child lived here."
"Well," Sans stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible, "we just tidied up as we went along. Nothing too frisky."
"Haha, good to know."
Papyrus, who had actually been the one to tidy as he went along, glared from the sofa, but said nothing. If it would help his brother look good in front of Ms Dreemurr, then he'd let him take the credit this time, as frustrating as it was. Besides, all they did was wash up and put Frisk's toys away. Any lazybones could do that.
"Well, I appreciate the effort, boys," she nodded to both of them. "And Frisk seemed happily asleep when I went to check on them. Well done. I hope they were not too much trouble."
"Of course not! They're a good kid." They really were, Sans believed. He was certainly fond of the little tyke and their strange ways.
"That is wonderful to hear." Toriel paused before fishing out a handful of notes- $24- from her purse. "Oh, here is your pay. Do not think for a second that I would forget!"
"Thank you." Sans stuffed the notes into his pocket, handing half to his brother.
Toriel smiled warmly. "Would you both like to stay for tea? As a thank you for being extra helpful."
"That's mighty kind of you, Ms Dreemurr, but we really should be going," Papyrus glanced out the window, "it's getting dark out and we need to get back before Grillby closes the pub."
"We got plenty time. One quali-tea cup won't hurt, bro-"
"Why not stay over?" Toriel asked, more to her surprise than anyone else's.
Both brothers turned to face her, heads tilted slightly. Neither were sure they'd really heard that.
"What I mean is," she began, "it is rather dangerous to be walking around this time of night, and it is chilly now the sun has gone down."
"We don't want to be a bother," Sans murmured, "it's fine, really."
"Oh no, I insist," Toriel clapped her hands together, "it is no trouble at all! I am afraid I only have the sofa though."
"That's fine, Tori," Sans waved a hand, "we like sharing, and we don't take up much room."
"Sans sleeps anywhere, anyway," Papyrus added, ignoring his brother's glare, "anytime of the day. I found him in the bottom of the airing cupboard once, curled up next to the boiler with a mouse building a nest in his hood."
"I'm like a cat; there's a meowntain of places I can squeeze into for a nap," Sans added with a blush; well, at least Pap hadn't blabbed. But way to make him look like a lazy shit! And unsanitary too.
"How sweet," Toriel commented, laughing at the pun and seemingly genuine.
Sans laughed nervously as Papyrus made himself comfortable on the sofa. Why was he always like this around Toriel? Ever since they'd become friends, and he'd found out how much they had in common, Sans had been slowly slipping into a downwards spiral of acting like a complete dick. He felt things that were, quite frankly, exhausting and unlike anything he was used to. He was distracted all the time, thinking up funny things he could've said in conversations, on top of the funny things he'd already said. He loved her laugh. It was ungraceful, full of snorts and bleats, but he found it beautiful. He found himself wiling away the long hours at work daydreaming about her, between skiving off and taking breaks.
What could he say? Not one of the multiple jobs he'd had since 14 had even been remotely fun, from strawberry picking to bar work. He knew what he wanted to do, but some half-hearted attempts at starting a career in his teenage years had put a juddering stop to his dreams before they'd really started. Besides, he couldn't just up and leave Papyrus, or force him to come along when he had settled so well into his life here.
"Um, how about you two stay there whilst I get some blankets?" Toriel suggested. "Then we can have that tea."
"Sure thing," Sans smiled warmly as she left and plopped himself onto the sofa, snuggled up next to his brother. Papyrus wasn't the most comfortable person to hug, but Sans didn't care; he still gave the best hugs. Besides, that enormous patchwork jumper his brother always wore was certainly warm, especially now in summer. Papyrus draped an arm over Sans' shoulder, squeezing his arm gently.
"Sans," he piped up anxiously, "do you think Ms Dreemurr will ever let us escape, or are we just trapped here?"
"Yes, Pap," Sans rolled his eyes, shoulders twitching as he suppressed a giggle, "she's just being nice."
"Oh. Well then, that was lovely of Ms Dreemurr," he commented, "letting us stay."
"Yeah."
"You don't mind the sofa either then?"
Sans frowned. "Course not."
"Even though I'm sure you have a better place in mind," the way those words were spoken made the hairs on the back of Sans' neck stand up. Just where was Papyrus going with this?
"Oh?" he asked.
"Yes. That warm, soft bed upstairs."
Oh God. Even Papyrus, innocent as he was, had caught on. Where did he even learn to pick up on those things? Or anything about those things, for that matter. Just what the hell had Undyne been teaching him? Besides how to get kicked out of university.
He was sweating now, wiping his hands on his t-shirt before replying. "Err, what makes you think that?"
"Why you were trying to sleep there, silly!" One of Papyrus' awkward, lanky arms swung across the air as punctuation.
Maybe not, maybe not.
"Of course, it seems like a comfy place to nap and," Papyrus leaned in closer, but did little to lower his voice, "a perfect place to smooch-"
"I have spiced tea, green tea," Toriel rattled off a list of her various beverages as she strode through the door, monologue cut short by a rather uncharacteristic screech coming from Sans.
"Oh," Toriel blinked, coming to an awkward halt in the doorway, "is something wrong?"
"Nothing!" Sans and Papyrus shrieked at the same time.
"Ya just scared us a bit," Sans added, hand on his heaving chest. Just how much had she heard here? Maybe it was possible to die of embarrassment.
"Oh my, I am so sorry," there was genuine shock on her apologetic face, eyes wide with horror and a plate-like hand clutching her brooch. "I did not mean-"
"Hey it's cool!" Sans waved a hand airily, "I'm just sleepy."
Toriel beamed. "Luckily I have these then." She threw a pile of fleece blankets on top of them, and the pair giggled.
"So," she told them, perching next to Sans, "what kind of tea would you like?"
…
Half an hour later, and Sans was curled up on his side, his brother's bony arms keeping him from falling on the floor. It wasn't the most awkward place he'd ever had a kip, but it wasn't a soft queen-sized bed in the arms of-
Oh what was wrong with him?
He was comfy enough here. Pap was falling asleep next to him, breathing steady and tickling Sans' ears with his hair. Their blankets were already tangled between their legs, the hot air still something of a problem even at night. It was rather stuffy here, but nothing too uncomfortable, and Sans knew he would soon be asleep after a long day. The silence was beautiful, serine, far away from the buzz of noise coming from below the floorboards that he usually had to put up with, or the smell and mess that always clung to his room. In fact, he wondered if he'd be able to sleep without such an environment.
"Hey, Sans."
He almost missed his brother's whisper, so unused to hearing Papyrus being anything but embarrassingly loud and flamboyant.
"Yeah bro?"
Papyrus propped himself up on an elbow, eerily serious.
"You… you really like her, do you not?"
A drawn out sigh was the only answer Sans could immediately give. He never kept anything from Pap unless he felt it was for the boy's own good.
"Yeah. Big time, buddy."