I know it is a little short, but I am trying to get back into the groove of writing. Hopefully, I'll be updating at least once a week.

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Frisk woke to the feeling of tiny rubber cables being peeled from her head. There was no longer an IV drip attached to her arm. She heard someone calling her, and the feeling of icy fingers resting on her cheeks and someone else shook her shoulder.

"-isk?"

"-Can't beli-"

"Frisk!"

Her eyes eased open, looking at the skeleton. In this dazey light, it almost looked like his skull was laughing. That had to be it, it had to be Sans.

"Sans?"

"Oh thank God," the skull cried, and Frisk felt herself being pulled up into a tight embrace. "We tried to pull you out sooner. Jesus, I can't- I wouldn't ever - Oh my God why didn't we do this sooner?"

"S-Sans, let her breath yeah?" Alphys placed a hand on his arm, gently guiding him further back.

Frisk had a better understanding of what was going on now. She had been pulled out of her dream, but why exactly was a little fuzzy. She remembered a handshake, a gold tooth… That was the Sans that kept killing her, right? Right, that was it. She was in the lab, it all came back now. With whatever drug was in that white mist dissipating, the human was better able to recall the recent events.

"So," she asked timidly, "What did you guys see?"

Sans had no light in his eyes. Alphys scratched the back of her head and pulled a clipboard off the metal table. Saying nothing, she turned it so Frisk could see the image.

Right there, in full glossy color, was an image of Sans. He had a gold tooth sticking out like a fang, a fluffy black coat, and a gold chain looping out of his pockets. His eyes were curved in a nasty looking glare, while his lipless mouth curled into something both resembling a sneer or a laugh. Unlike the Sans she knew, his eyes had a faint red glow deep in his skull. Nothing about him could be compared to her real version of Sans, yet somehow he looked exactly as she expected him to. Nodding her head, she looked at Alphys.

"Yeah, that's him."

"And he's been hurting you. All this time." Sans asked cooly. Frisk could only nod. "You know that isn't me, right?" Again, she nodded her head. "I swear to fu-"

"AND I think you're running late to your party, Frisk! Toriel must be r-really worried and we should get back. You've been out for a little bit, but you probably want to change out of your pajamas?" Alphys set the clipboard down with a clatter, ushering Sans away from the bed. He gave no protest.

The 'I'M A STAR' T-shirt wasn't exactly a pajama shirt, but it had gotten wrinkled during the ordeal. And she bet her hair looked a mess. Her finger reached up to touch the spot on her forehead where one of the pads had been connected by Sans' spit. Yeah. . . She should get back. Alphys pushed her in the direction of the bathroom to wash her face before Sans took her back, but she shot him a look telling him not to move.

He couldn't get over the shock.

And anger.

That piece of trash has been hurting her. All this time. With HIS face. HIS magic. Mocking her with HIS voice. He had never been so disgusted with himself. Or felt so violated. He looked at his hands, trying to imagine them doing anything like that to Frisk. Only, he didn't have to image. These hands were used by someone else and did exactly what he would never consider doing. And for so long. Balling them into fists, he felt a cold sweat break out over his bones.

"Okay, l-l-listen for a second." Alphys whispered as she returned, holding out her claws as if she could stop him from bolting out that door if he wanted to. "What are some explanations for this?"

"I'm going to kill him."

"But is he even real?" Her hands were shaking, but she was doing her very best to be rational. No one wants to watch a friend get hurt. When that bastard grabbed her wrist like that she had tried to pull out Frisk right away, but the damned machines, her machines, where to slow. She didn't account for how long it would take to pull her out, and it was obvious by the look on sleeping Frisk's face that she felt every bit of what happened in those visions. "How can we figure out the connection between that nightmare and you? Why would it take your shape, out of anything else? They seemed to have repor with one another."

"All great questions Alphy, but I got a better one."

"Which is-"

"Can I fucking kill him."

Well, after that fuckin' chat things have changed a little. The brat vaporized herself, but promised to come back. Ain't that something. Sans couldn't help but grin, his kitten was getting a little nuts. But if she could leave like that, why hadn't she before? Really made a guy think. Picking out the dirt from his hand, he decided he better start preparing for their little adventure. Maybe he could take her down to that witch of a doctor and figure out a way to keep the girl from scampering off. Make her stay and, if nothing else, be able to take her soul. Not that it'd matter too much, after all. One measly SOUL can't break that barrier, but it'd be a hell of a lot better than the zero they got.

"Nah, fuck that." He flicked a piece of dirt at the place she had been seated so politely. "Ain't giving this one up for shit."

In the dirt something sparkled. Cocking his head to the side, he stood up and dusted himself off. There, glittering like a star in the dingy light of the shed, was a tiny heart. It was no bigger than the tip of his thumb, but boy was it a heavy piece of junk. He held it in his palm, trying to figure out if her little locket would be worth anything at the shop. Maybe, if carved into it wasn't some candy-ass BFF bullshit. He used the side of his nail to try and pry the thing open. It was the first time she had left anything behind. Every other time she died, everything with her vanished into air. Not even a pile of dust would be left. Sometimes a day or so would pass before she appeared, spouting the same nonsense of "Sans what is going on, where am I? What are you doing?" This tiny trinket was an anomaly in itself. Once he heard the click of the locket, he was startled to see the brat staring back at him.

Well, not at him. At herself.

He was looking through the locket like a tiny peep-hole and saw the girl fussing over her hair in the mirror.

"Hey." He grinned, knowing that'd get her attention.

No reaction.

The fuck, could she hear him? Or was she playing dumb to avoid him?

"HEY." Still no reaction. He tried to see if he could see himself in the mirror, peeking through or something. But there was nothing, it was like she was on a tiny screen, unable to see or hear him. Something about having her so close, but out of reach, just pissed him off to no end.

"GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!"

"SANS IF YOU DON'T LOWER YOUR TONE I WILL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO SCREAM ABOUT."

Ah fuck, his bro was back. Snapping the locket shut, he stuffed it in his jacket. Sans scrambled to get out to check in with Papyrus, but hesitated to close the gate. Would she appear here? Should he lock her in until he got back? Or should he let her wander and get herself killed? Let her die a few times before she sought him out, begging for protection... Wouldn't that be swell, swooping in to save her from death after being her own personal Grim Reaper!

Yeah, the gate would stay open.

Frisk was, in all essence, a hot mess. Her hair was a mess, her face looked pale, and she had a heavy feeling on her chest that made her feel as if she was being possessed. She wasn't feeling as sluggish as she thought she would. There was just something a little off she couldn't quite place. While it was nice to know there was something she could do in her dreams to progress them, it was more than a little shocking that her friends could literally put a face to the evil that haunted her. Still, it was progress! And if she had defeated the crazed Toriel in her dream, she could befriend the sadistic Sans. Maybe it had something to do with the 'DANCE' option in her ACT, but she had a feeling he wasn't as bad as he was trying to be.