"...So the old man has those two demon mutts with him, and he tells 'em to dust us!"
There are gasps around the campfire. One of the teens, a newcomer to the circle, snorts rudely. She's dressed head to toe in black and red, face covered by her dark jacket. Only a faint green glow emanates from the hood.
"How'd you defeat them?" She asks darkly.
"We didn't" The youngest of the group says.
"Then how are you not dusted?"
"Apparently the kid ain't too keen on killin'," Snowdrake says. "He shot us down but wouldn't finish the job. Lucky too. He's one powerful pup."
"So where'd ya think the old man went?" she prompts again.
"Dunno, don't care," Icecap says. "As long as he has those kids with him I ain't messin' with 'im."
There are noises of agreement all around.
"Good."
All of the teens turn to the source of the familiar voice. Many of them scatter, but bright blue flames pick up to circle around the house and the children are securely trapped in their burning hideout. As the flames die down to a calm red, Grillby enters the shack fully, looking to the young monsters. They are panicking, frantically looking around for any signs of any others.
"Well look at that," Grillby says, letting his own flames fuel the fire as he slowly paced across the room. "It seems you kids are in a bit of a hotspot, hmm?"
Snowdrake fluffs up indignantly, then spits, "We don't want any trouble, old timer, just let us go and -"
Grillby leans down to the teens eye level hands in his pocket, "And you'll what?" He sneers dangerously.
Snowdrake is shaking, and the other teens have taken to desperately trying to smash the windows, only causing more oxygen to flow into the building, helping the flames to grow dangerously warm. Snowdrake didn't take his eyes off of Grillby, but there were tears forming in them, and honestly it made Grillby feel good to give that little shit what for.
"We're sorry, okay!" He shouts. "We- we won't bother you again, promise."
"Of course you won't," Grillby says calmly, returning to full height. "Burned alive doesn't exactly leave much room to do much, does it?"
There is a scream from someone in the crowd of teenagers and Grillby once again feels a large wave of satisfaction at the sound. He turns around and begins making his way to the wall of flame, passing through as easily as any other being would walk through water.
"Wait!" Snowdrake screams and Grillby listens patiently, still standing in the walls of flame. "We'll do anything! Please, come back! Help us!"
Grillby smiles and returns to the small room. There is a tangible sense of relief in the air, along with a thick, black smoke that was slowly choking the teens. Grillby makes his way over to the group, which has convened in the middle of the room in an attempt to avoid the hotter flames at the edges. Some of the older members are holding down the younger in attempts to keep them from the smoke in the air.
Grillby chuckles a little, making sure that the sound was just loud enough to echo over the roars of fire around them. Grillby grabs Snowdrake by his collar and drags him to his own height. Snowdrake yelps and looks at him with pleading eyes.
"Never, ever, fuck with me again, kid." Grillby says, his voice dangerously quiet. Then, throwing their leader harshly to the ground, he addresses the group, "And you kids tell no one about what you've seen, got it?"
Snowdrake nods furiously and Grillby shoves him to the ground again. He then raises a hand and commands the flames to recede from around the broken door. The teens leap to their feet and rush out, dragging the unconscious and wounded behind them.
Grillby laughs again and lets the door seal back. He didn't really need to leave just yet; it is actually a comfortable temperature in here. Why the flame ever settled in Snowdin is beyond even him sometimes.
He casually strolls out of the blazing home, picking up the few canisters of fuel that he had doused the house's foundation in barely ten minutes ago and carrying them with him. Grillby wishes he had more arms as the small canisters kept toppling over. The boys' company would have been appreciated, but if he wants the teens' silence, he needs them to fear Grillby, not just the boys.
Plus, he is still somewhat mad at Sans.
Grillby wouldn't have to be doing any of this if the kid had just done as we was told and killed the brats. Then again, even Grillby didn't want them dead. They were annoying and even dangerous at times, but the outcry and backlash from killing three members of the growing gang would definitely have had consequences.
Grillby shivers in the early morning air and takes a drink from one of the canisters, emptying what's left of the yellow liquid before throwing it carelessly into a street dumpster. This outcome would be best, anyways. The teens were scared of him now, not just his… weapons. This should have been his plan right from the start, Grillby reflects briefly - he didn't even really need the brats this time.
He shrugs. It's fine though. The kids will have more opportunities to earn their keep.
Though he is still mad at Sans for disobeying, even if he had been right in doing so. He was right for the wrong reasons. Sans didn't spare them for any practical reason, he did it just to be nice, or maybe he was just scared. Both attitudes are equally dangerous in the underground - Grillby will probably have to beat it out of him
Not physically, of course. With as weak as they are they certainly couldn't handle being hit. And Grillby certainly doesn't want the kids to get seriously injured… because then they wouldn't be able to protect him.
Grillby slowly pushes open the door to his bar and almost instantly begins tidying up. He has to open in less than ten minutes, and he hasn't had a moment's sleep. It's been awhile since he pulled an all-nighter like this. How many years has it been? Maybe that's why people thought he was going soft.
Grillby smiles, unstacking his chairs.
He isn't soft. He's the toughest monster in the underground! He should be feared; and not just by those dumb teens, but by those brats he has chained up in his closet as well! How dare they defy him!
But the look in Sans' eyes when…
Grillby shakes his head, the ambition draining from him. No. Right now he needs to stay alive. That's all he needs to worry about. And to do that, he needs those kids alive and well. Which also means that they're probably going to want to eat soon, as Grillby didn't have time to give them anything before locking them back in the closet.
Grillby sighs again. It looks like he's going to have to open a few minutes late.
Sans shivers in the corner of small room. The leash and muzzle had been wordlessly returned to the pair when The Monster (Grillby, as he is apparently called, though The Monster just seems more appropriate) roughly pushed them into the room, muttering incoherently the entire time.
Sans knew it was useless to struggle, so the moment they were left alone, he curled up miserably. The return of the muzzle was unnecessary, as all thoughts of escape have been purged from Sans' brain. Even though The Monster was angry, the idea of facing the other monsters in the village terrified Sans even more.
Now what is going to happen to them?
Papyrus, seemingly unaware of any danger the pair may be in, is on his back and toying with the chain connecting them to the wall. A knot grew in Sans' chest and slowly he felt anxious pressure built up. What if The Monster decides to take out his anger on Papyrus? Sans remembers the many times the Scientist would threaten to take Papyrus away from him - mostly after Sans would fail a test - due to his care for his brother.
What if The Monster blames Papyrus? Sans doesn't know how to live without his brother. He can barely remember the time before he had Papyrus. What he does recall is blurry and grey, lacking in any depth. Just tests and examinations and operations… except back then he simply complied without thought. He didn't even really have thoughts back then. His brother awoke something in Sans when he was introduced to the small skeleton. Sans started caring what was happening around him, what was safe and what was painful. He would share his limited life experiences with his younger brother and teach him what little he knew.
Without Papyrus, Sans doesn't know what would have happened to him – or what would happen to him if he was taken now.
Sans' tries to calm his breathing, but that is as useless as tugging on the restraints, so he just lets himself dissolve into panic. The Doctor was always impassive in his research, but cruel in his punishments. He knew exactly where and how to break the little skeleton, and nothing could or would stop him from utilizing every horrendous torture method at his disposal. Sometimes he would even leave Sans with the other scientists and let them test out any number of dark fantasies they had on the young child. As long as he was not returned in an urn, The Doctor didn't care what they did. It only happened twice, because after the second time Sans had vowed it would never happen again. It still haunted his mind, though, painting realistic images of the events in the back corners of his mind.
But that was all in the past. What matters now is what this monster will do. The cruelty of the scientists is Sans' only experience on which to base his predictions for the future. The Monster never actually told Sans why he wants them, but Sans can easily guess from the events of the night before that he wants them as fighters of a sort. Sans can live with that. That means that he can't hurt them too much physically without decreasing their value to them.
But there are other ways to get retribution.
Sans eventually lies down and falls into an uneasy sleep.
Sans dreams of a woman. She is smiling as he begs and screams for her to stop, for her to do something, anything else. She laughs and mocks him, and never relents. He has feathers in his mouth and a sick feeling in the pit of his soul.
When the door opens, the icy tendrils that had run their way through Sans solidify and he has to force himself to face the towering inferno. The Monster looks down at him with a very… unreadable expression. Sans wills his eyes to meet that of the monster standing before him. He is surprised to find that he sees none of the hatred from before written on his features. Instead there is a blank, impassive look that bores deep into Sans' core. It is the same one the scientist would always wear before ushering him into the testing chamber.
Sans somehow keeps his breathing steady under The Monster's stern gaze, though even he knows that his legs are wobbling. The Monster keeps his eyes locked firmly on the child, until finally he bends over to unlock Sans from the wall. To Sans shock, The Monster unhinges the chain from the top rather than at the collar. Sans quickly realizes why as he is silently lead out of the small room, leaving his brother's unconscious form behind. Chained and muzzled, Sans has no choice but to follow the flame into the next room. It's the large, open room from before. The one that would fill with people when Sans was locked up. Sans vaguely notices that there is no one but the two of them in the room.
That's strange. Normally the Doctor would have two or three others with him when Sans was punished.
The Monster bends over to Sans and slowly removes the muzzle holding his mouth. Instead of attacking, as The Monster's posture obviously suggests he thought Sans would, Sans quickly barked, "am i in trouble?"
The Monster stares at him for a moment and Sans feels his throat constrict with utter terror. Sans is beginning to wonder if The Monster can understand dog speak when he finally answers:
"Yes."
Sans' breath hitches. Of course he's in trouble. He disobeyed a direct order and caused the enemy to get away. Sans realizes his bones are rattling again as he meekly squeaks out a frightened, "o-oh."
The Monster glares at him angrily, yet all he does is stand and turn towards the kitchen. Sans sits patiently in dread. So he is going to get in trouble. Maybe he can still sneak away. He'd have to get Papyrus first, though. He just can't survive without his little brother.
The Monster is carrying something into the back room. It looks like food. So maybe he's going to feed Papyrus again? That's good. Sans had feared that the continuous food would stop, but was glad to find that at least Papyrus would eat again. Maybe it was just because of the extreme exercises but Sans found himself hungry again, despite never having had regular feeding like this before in his life.
Sans yelps when something is roughly placed in front of him. It's another bowl. Sans slowly shifts forms to examine it. It's a lumpy brown mixture, but the smell is overpoweringly sweet and Sans quickly begins eating before The Monster can change his mind and take it away.
The Monster leans back and watches Sans, expression still unreadable.
Sans desperately wants to ask what his punishment will be, but speaking out of turn would only make things worse for him. His body is trembling so badly that he can't get the spoon in his mouth anymore, and his stomach suddenly feels very tipsy.
"Kid?"
Sans yips and meets the flame's eyes. The Monster has knelt down and is only inches from his face. Sans tries to back away, but only ends up on the heels of his hands.
"You know why you're in trouble?" The Monster asks slowly. Sans' breathing picks up a little but he slowly finds it in him to nod. The Monster continues, his voice too calm for its inflection. "I want to know exactly why you didn't blast those kids."
Sans hunches and hangs his head. He tries to turn his head away, but a flaming hand rests under his jaw, locking him in place.
"Sans." he says dangerously.
"i- i don't… i don't…" Why is the monster asking him? Why can't he just punish him and get it over with?
The flame's hand tightens on his mandible and Sans finds his voice.
"i was scared."
The Monster looks at him skeptically.
Sans feels his magic pulsing faster and his good eye must be glowing because the ground is tinted light red.
The Doctor is watching. Sans lets loose another devastating blow from his blaster form. His body aches from exhaustion and fight, but twitching the monster at the other end of the hall is still at 1 HP. Sans tries again and again, until finally his knees meet tile and Sans is barely conscious as the Doctor slams his foot into his ribs. Over and over and over.
The Monster is waiting.
"i… i can't k-kill," Sans says finally. The Monster looks enraged. Sans flinches back as The Monster pulls him forward. With nothing else he can do, Sans slams his eyes shut and braces himself. But instead of a blow, there is a light hiss.
"You. Can't. Kill?"
Sans can feel the heat of The Monster's rage burning his bone, but finds it in him to nod. The Monster roughly throws the kid to the ground, than stands back.
"The fuck does that mean?"
Sans stares at the flicking blue, the flames turning brighter than usual.
"i c-can only do one damage a hit," Sans tries to explain.
"Bullshit," The Monster spits. "I saw you attack those kids. That wasn't one hit."
Sans looks down, "i can do a lot of damage, but only until the enemy is at one hp, then… it's hard for me to do anything…" The Monster is looking at him skeptically; Sans swallows thickly, saying after a long silence , "...and i only have one hp."
The Monster stares at Sans, glasses falling part way down his nose. Sans tries to quell the stirring fear in his abdomen. If he was right and the monster wanted him as a fighter, then this was it. He would be completely useless - just like he was to the scientists. There would be no reason to keep him at all, but what would The Monster do with them? San could handle going back to the streets, but The Monster could very easily send them both back to The Doctor. There is also the possibility that he'll just kill them outright…
"You only have one HP?"
"y-yes, boss."
"Is the other one... like that too?"
Sans looks up at The Monster with wide eyes. What does he say? He's already doomed, but Papyrus might have a chance. He was, after, meant to replace Sans. Papyrus is a better version of himself - a perfected one. Sans take a deep breath.
"no," Sans says, "his attack is lower than mine, but consistent."
"And his HP?"
"twenty?" Sans guesses.
"I see," The Monster looks as though he's contemplating something and Sans stares at his feet. It's done. Whatever happens now is out of his hands.
Grillby looks at the small boy. He seems to have curled in on himself again, trying to make himself smaller, as if to disappear. It actually makes sense now. This kid is completely useless. Normally if a parent found out that their child was this defective they'd put them out of their misery. It would be the merciful thing to do. This one must have just gotten dumped on the streets when they found out.
But why the other child? Unless Sans is lying - which is a distinct possibility - there would be no reason to dump a perfectly healthy toddler in the middle of a freezing town.
Something about that rubs Grillby the wrong way. It's a dangerous world out there, and if that kid with those stats met the wrong guy they could have easily been abducted and abused horridly. The fact that there would be a parent out there who would willingly abandon their child like that is just… amazing.
Grillby shakes his head. The kid isn't powerless or weak. He's proven that. Even if he really can't deliver the final blow, Sans has certainly proven that he can at the very least defend himself and his brother. It'll just be a matter of using both boys. Having Sans weaken and Papyrus kill.
Although… selling the kid to the guard was also still an option.
Grillby puts his fingers on his temples and presses, trying to alleviate the burning headache that is pulsing in his brain. These kids really are almost more trouble than they're worth.
"b-boss?"
Sans is looking up at him with expectant, fear-glazed eyes. Grillby lowers his hands and sighs.
"Why the hell does the Guard want you, kid?" Grillby snap and Sans flinches back, shaking his head. Grillby's temper flares and he grabs at the front of Sans' shirt. He lets out strangled cry, as if trying and failing to keep quiet. "You're not going to tell me?"
Sans' eye widen and he shakes his head adamantly. Grillby presses his face in closer and Sans pushes back, falling flat on his back.
Before Grillby can lose his temper fully, Sans' meek voice speaks up.
"w-what is the g- guard?"
Grillby leans his head back and groans. Who the hell in the Underground doesn't know what the guard is? The kid is scrambling back, pulling his knees up to his chest. Grillby puts a hand on his head, removing his glasses with the other. Finally, he glares down at Sans.
"The guard works for the king. There ain't many rules in the Underground, but if you break one they come and drag your ass to the king," Grillby says. "So my question is: why does the guard give a shit about some 1HP lowlife?"
Sans looks at him for a moment, then his gaze drifts back to the ground. He is fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and Grillby slams his hand against the wall, partly in anger and partly to get the child's attention.
Sans flinches, then begins slowly. He mutters something, but it's too low for Grillby to hear. He is about to berate him again for talking so quietly when Sans repeats himself automatically. "i- we- we escaped…"
Grillby looks at Sans curiously. "Escaped? From what?"
Sans is looking anywhere but towards the blue glowing flame. Sans shook his head, eyes clenched. Grillby is ready to strangle him. Talking to this kid is worse than pulling teeth. Grillby backs up a bit, trying to calm himself enough to handle this.
Finally, Sans' quiet voice breaks through.
"please… please don't send us back."
Grillby looks back to the child in shock. His eyes are clenched tight and small, choked sobs are escaping his mouth. It's the first time the child has shocked Grillby into silence, because it's the first time Grillby has actually seen a kid when he looks at Sans. He takes a small step back and looks at Sans unsurely, but the child continues.
"kill me instead. i can't go back… please… just kill me!"
Grillby's glasses slip out of his hand and clatter on the floor. The wire frame crashing against the hardwood is almost deafening, only begin drowned out by the sound of the child's choked sobs.
Grillby stares, completely at a loss. He's heard people plead before - back several years ago they'd plead to him like that - but to hear it from someone so young. Grillby feels the question burn on his tongue - where are you from? - but he lets the question go. The less he knows, the better, he decides.
Grillby crouches down to Sans' level; the skeleton has already shut his eyes tight, as if he's fighting back tears. Grillby puts his hands on his shoulders and Sans flinches hard, but slowly opens his eyes and meets Grillby's. The monster watches as two bright red tears streak down his face.
"Kid, look. Let's work together, okay?" Grillby says. "You help me, I'll help you."
Sans looks lost for a long while, then slowly nods. "w-what do you want me to d-do?"
Grillby blows out a huff of air. Of course the kid gets straight to the point.
"Just… look kid, I'll keep you around as long as you do exactly what I say, when I say it. Just remember who's in charge and there won't be any problems."
Sans face flashes with a hint of fear, and Grillby has the familiar sensation of dread that the child would simply bolt, but then Sans' expression morphs into one of acceptance. He nods slowly and looks away. Grillby runs a hand down his face.
Pulling teeth.
"So, we're clear?" Grillby asks once more, and Sans nods. "I want to hear you say it."
"y-yes, boss," he stutters. Grillby ushers Sans back to the closet. Papyrus has long since finished his food and curled up asleep. Sans tries and fails to hide a look of dismay as Grillby holds out the muzzle.
"If you're good all week, I'll consider not putting on at night."
Sans gives him an oddly hopeful look and shifts without complaint. He curls up next to Papyrus and Grillby leaves the pair to their nap.
Grillby is more thankful than he'd like to admit that no one mentions the skelechildren or the mysterious house fire in his bar. Granted, it's suspicious that there isn't a peep out of the usual riffraff, but that just means that those who have heard the rumors are smart enough not to challenge him.
And rumors are good. They keep people from messing with you and trying to kill you. Embellished rumors are even better, making people fear you for no reason at all. Grillby has no reason to be upset with a few rumors -
- that is, until the dog squad hears about it.
It's just a little after the lunch break when they come in. The squad's absence at breakfast was very much noted by the bartender, however Grillby had assumed - and hoped - it would have been due to some other incident in Snowdin.
"What can I do for you?" Grillby says politely.
"We've gotten some strange reports, Grillby." Doggo says, squinting at him. Grillby's grip around the glass tightens
"Strange?" Grillby says, struggling to keep his voice even, "How so?"
"Nothing you need to worry about if they ain't true." Dogamy says, "Will you let us look around?"
"Of course," Grillby says casually, placing the glass with the others, "I've got nothin' to hide."
The dogs sniff around the room, and Grillby leans back against the bar, feigning nonchalance. It wasn't a matter of if the dogs found the kids but when and what would Grillby do then. He taps his fingers lightly against the cold surface of the countertop. The kids are locked up tight - there will be no time to unchain them to fight, and even then there'd be no guarantee victory, especially since Grillby has yet to work out the kinks of Sans' no-kill problem.
And why couldn't those damned teens keep their fucking mouths shut? When Grillby gets his hands on them, they're going to wish he'd let them burn in the house fire.
If he makes it out of this, that is.
Grillby should just confess.
Yeah, that's the way. Grillby has already scared those kids half to death (and if not, then he's going to put the fear of the angel into their hearts after all this is over) and even if he doesn't get the reward money, he might can avoid being arrested or killed by just telling them that he was going to hand them over anyways.
Grillby swallows. If he hands the kids over, he can put this whole nightmare behind him. Things can go right back to the way they were…
kill me instead. i can't go back… please… just kill me!
Sans pleas echo in Grillby's head, as if he is still saying them. Grillby's fists tighten against the edge of the bar. What happened to those boys to make them like this?
Grillby sighs. It's too late to tell the guard now, he decides. They would think it suspicious that Grillby didn't want to say anything earlier… they may just arrest him anyways.
The guard makes their way through the bar, and finally into Grillby's little living space. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Grillby begins charging his magic. There's a little ghost of emotion at the idea of killing the handful of people who were friendly to him on a regular basis, but it doesn't faze Grillby much anymore. It's kill or be killed. That's the motto he's lived by his whole life - hell, everyone lives by it down here. So it doesn't matter if a few people die.
So long as Grillby can keep the things that matter most safe -
- Himself
Grillby watches as they sniff around, and waits for them to find his little secret. Greater Dog seems to be investigating something interesting under the bed, but quickly ignores it when Dogaressa calls him over to the closet door. Grillby can feel his attack rising.
The dogs open the door.
But there's nothing there.
For a moment, Grillby is too confused to even speak. The kids are gone. Just…gone. He can't tell if he's angry, or relieved, or something else entirely, but he doesn't have time to really feel anything as he is slammed against the bedroom wall.
"The fuck is this!?" Doggo barks.
"A closet." Grillby snips. "It's where we civilized people put our clothes."
Grillby looks over Doggo's shoulder to see Dogamy and Dogaressa holding up the leashes and muzzles. Shit. Even though the kids are gone, the evidence is still there.
Fuck.
Grillby has to think fast and think now; lucky, this wouldn't be the first time he has had to use a quickly lie to avoid consequences.
Grillby wrestles himself free of Doggo's grip, nearly pulling the arm out of socket in the process. He pushes past to the Guard Dogs holding the leashes and snarls. He yanks them from their hands defensively
"What does a flame monster need with leashes and muzzles, Grillby?"
The dogs are all glaring at him intensely, a personal distaste for the items apparent.
"I have a personal life, Dogamy." Grillby says nonchalantly. "I don't ask you about you and your wife's activities, though I am sure they are in much worse taste than mine."
That last comment earned Grillby a punch to the face. He slumps to the ground, hand reaching up to his jaw, thankful for the flames covering the bruises that would surely form on his core.
"You think we're stupid?" Doggo snaps, making a move for the slumped flame. Grillby feels himself being lifted off the ground.
"Not stupid, just misinformed." Grillby says, brushing himself off, "Obviously you dogs have never seen a leash as anything other than a controlling device. It can be so much more."
The dogs look at Grillby extremely judgmentally, and even Grillby has to fight to keep a straight face through all of this. To his relief, though, the dogs eventually snarl and walk off, muttering to themselves about Grillby's apparent "sick habits." Only Dogaressa stops by the door, holding the leash seductively and gives Grillby a little wink. He'll have to deal with that later, he supposes.
When they are gone, Grillby slams a fist against the wall. Dammit! The kids are gone. The kids are… okay, calm down. It's not that big a problem. He doesn't need those kids anyways, even though he thought he had finally gotten through to the small skeleton. They'll probably go out on their own and forget about him, or die, or get captured, and there is no way this will affect him negatively at all.
So why does he still feel so nervous?
Grillby is snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of a quiet whimper. He takes his hand off of his head and slowly approaches the sound. It is coming from under the bed.
Grillby peers under to find a shivering Sans clutching desperately to his unconscious brother. His back is pressed against the wall and his eyes are staring forward sightlessly. Grillby has to bite back a sigh of relief. The boys are still here.
"Get out from under the bed, kid." Grillby says quietly, but Sans shakes his head. Grillby knows he should feel frustrated, but he is simply too emotionally exhausted to. "Kid…"
"d-don't... d-don't… i p-promise i'll…" Sans isn't making any sense, and Grillby is starting to debate crawling under the bed and dragging him out, despite the dust he would undoubtedly get on his knees.
The shaking coming from every bone in the skeleton is enough to wake the younger brother. Papyrus stretches and yawns. When he sees Grillby, he rushes forward to his arms, despite his brother's protests.
Grillby smirks. At least one of them likes him.
"Come on, kid." Grillby tries one more time. "The sentries are gone. You're fine."
Thankfully, Sans seems to come to his senses, and combined with the motivation of seeing his little brother with the flame, he crawls slowly out of his little safe space. Sans, now out from under the bed, hugs his knees.
Now there are new problems to deal with, like how in the hell is he going to lock these kids up now that his 'equipment' has been taken. Not that it really matters, Grillby reflects suddenly, since the children were already able to escape.
He eyes the child for a moment.
"How'd you get under the bed?" Grillby asks. "How did you get out of the closet?"
Sans shakes his head. "i-i don't know."
Grillby narrows his eyes and Sans quickly stutters out, "i r-really don't- don't know. i swear! i heard s-someone come in the room and i - i was scared so I grabbed p and i just..." Sans trails off, shivering.
Grillby thinks for a moment. Could it be teleportation? It's not unheard of for monsters, just very, very uncommon - then again, these kids are hardly ordinary. If Sans can, in fact, teleport then there is truly no way to keep him contained. Grillby sighs, hand on the bridge of his nose. This could not possibly get any more complicated.
Sans seems to take this as a sign of anger towards him, as he backs up and apologizes repetitively. He's pulled Papyrus into his lap and is holding him there, despite his brother's desperate struggles to escape the too tight hug. "please... please don't send us away."
Grillby looks up.
Hm, maybe he doesn't have to force them to stay here.
"Relax, kid, I ain't send you nowhere." Grillby says, standing up. "I gotta go back outside, take care of the customers. You two just stay put, we'll go training when I get back. Sound good?"
Sans gives a small, affirmative nod allows Papyrus to squirm out of his arms.
"Stay out of trouble," Grillby says, returning to the bar. People were staring, but to their credit they were at least trying to look like they weren't. Grillby picks up the glass he'd been working on when the sentries had made their unexpected appearance.
If the boys were going to spend their time in the back room all day, Grillby is going to have to get them some toys and shit. He doesn't want them getting bored and breaking things. But…what do kids play with? Grillby doesn't remember what he had as a kid, other than a set of steel knives he'd stolen from a store during a robbery. He doesn't exactly want to give the kids weapons - they are trouble enough as it is.
He spends the rest of the day thinking about training, admittedly getting a little excited. There is a lot he wants to teach the boys, and there's a lot they need to learn.
Grillby smiles honestly for the first time in a long time.
He's excited.
