Asriel had just come by to take over the night watch for Nicky when sans walked back in, scaring Asriel into yelping out, "Fucking gah?!" and jumping in front of Frisk protectively (which made her smile). "Oh." He then blushed once he saw who it was, especially when sans grinned at him, clearly amused. "It's you. Howdy, bastard."
"sans!" Frisk nudged Asriel to the side. "You're back! What happened? Can you tell me everything now?" Interested, Asriel sat down in the chair again beside her, planning to stick around, now.
sans looked over at Nicky, who was sleeping soundly. "uh, should we do this here? now?"
"She's out like a candle in the breeze," Asriel said, waving a hand in dismissal. "Apparently she's a lightweight when it comes to IV pain medication. She'll be out til morning. Don't try to use her as an excuse!"
Frisk touched his shoulder and said, "Calm down, you're freaking out and it's silly." Asriel blushed deeper, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away, and she smiled wider. Then she turned back to sans. "Well? What happened? What's going on, and what don't we know, and can we know it now?"
"well," sans sighed, hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. "i'm sure asriel will recognise some of this from his schooling, but monsters have this legend-not-legend of a thing called the watchers of the delta rune-,"
"Are you shitting me?!" Asriel shouted, sitting up so rigidly in his chair that it looked very uncomfortable. His eyes were wide. "Do not tell me that shit's for real!"
"you didn't know?" sans stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. "you always call me 'judge'."
Asriel actually moved his chair backwards from sans, looking almost scared, now (he was). "You're the Judge?!" he demanded, his voice wavering a bit. Frisk stared at him, then at sans, then back at him. She'd never seen her husband act this unhinged before - not in many years.
"Okay..." said Frisk slowly, trying to stay patient. "Could one of you please explain this to me? Because I don't get it."
"tori never taught you anything about it?" sans asked. She shook her head, and he rubbed his bony forehead slowly. "wow. what an oversight that was."
"She thinks it's bullshit," Asriel admitted. "Always has. I remember that much, at least." He looked at Frisk. "Like how she feels about the Mafia, in the human world." Frisk nodded, something clicking in her eyes at that in understanding.
"i take it alphys probably did, too," sans agreed. (Sometimes Alphys would tutor Frisk in monster history, but had clearly left a few things out over the years.)
"Yes, okay. I get it, I'm an ignorant human," Frisk snapped. "Can we please move on and actually work on fixing that, please?"
Asriel went scarlet, now, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. She gave him a gentle touch on his cheek, but still waited. Asriel looked at sans, who sighed and shrugged.
"right. okay. so. watchers of the delta rune," he began, going into his default lecturing tone, the one he had learnt from Alphys when he used to teach. "there are four who surround the royal family and protect them in secret, in the four major roles that each monarchy needs: a judge, a diplomat, a paladin, and an executioner."
"And you're the Judge?" Frisk asked. sans nodded. "Who are the others?"
"i'm not going there," sans said, his tone oddly sharp. "i'm only confirming myself and one other, and only because he did it himself before i could: darian reden."
Frisk and Asriel stared at each other. "I bet he's the Diplomat," Asriel guessed.
"wrong, weed. executioner."
Asriel jolted, and Frisk stared at him. "That's bad, isn't it? Why is it bad?" she demanded, feeling panic slip through her. "Why is it bad?!"
"The Executioner is that: the killer for the royalty," Asriel explained slowly. "They can kill and not face repercussions for it, if the King deems it acceptable. They're assassins."
Frisk was panicked in earnest, now. She grabbed Nicky's hand in hers, suddenly scared. She'd let Darian - as Dr Thicke - near her, her husband, her baby girl... and he could have easily, at any time, killed them.
"and they're very, very powerful," sans added. "they're chosen for their power, because only someone with enough lv can make a good executioner." He paused. "to be fair, or unfair, darian... isn't all that good, in a way." He paused again. "asriel? frisk?"
Asriel was not paying complete attention, as Frisk was now close to fainting. Ever since she got shot, any time she became overly upset, her breaths would short out and she'd either faint or throw up. She was pale, which meant fainting, and Asriel was holding her up by the shoulders. "Breathe, Frisk," he said sharply. "Breathe!"
She shut her eyes, tilting forward for a moment, before she regained control over her breathing and managed to slow it down. Asriel held her steady, and sans stayed quiet, though his eyes were dim with worry and he had taken several steps forward.
"Insanity." Frisk whispered when she could. "This... is insanity. It's a joke, right? You're just..." She looked from Asriel to sans, then bit down on her lip, hard. "Fuck," she mumbled, seeing the truth in their expressions.
The sentiment was shared by all three of them at the moment.
"Go on, sans," Frisk added. Her eyes glinted like steel, suddenly. "I can take it."
"i know," he agreed. "but keep breathing, anyway. you're gonna need it."
Asgore's greeting to Darian upon his opening the door of his apartment was a swing of his trident. Darian barely managed to throw himself backwards in time, and he lost several feathers to those sharp tines. Asgore followed him into the apartment, slamming the door, and Darian held up his hands, the trident pointed directly at his neck.
"Is it true, Darian?" Asgore asked softly, his eyes blazing like the fires he wielded. Somehow, the fact that he didn't yell was more terrifying than if he did. "Is what sans told me the truth?"
Darian met his gaze carefully. "What did sans tell you, Your Majesty?"
"That you knew my daughter would get shot and did nothing," Asgore answered, his voice eerie in its softness. "That you set her up that way, because you knew it would push the Treaty forward?"
Darian swallowed, hard. He didn't know how to say what he needed to say, and he was taking to long trying to figure it out.
"Did you set her up?!" Asgore growled, his voice finally rising a bit.
Darian didn't break eye contact, though he desperately wanted to. "Technically... y-yes, Your Majesty. It's true-!" His voice caught as he threw himself back again, Asgore swinging his trident right for him. Again he lost some feathers. He shut his eyes, reached out to his magic, and held out his hands. Red electricity slid through his fingers and formed into two weapons, one in each hand: a red-bladed sword and a revolver. Asgore merely leaned back, holding his weapon up and out, pointed at Darian again. Darian held the sword up and just barely parried the hit that probably would have killed him had he not. The force of the blow slammed through his body, and it hurt.
Asgore was finally intending to, if not kill him outright, then at the very least hurt him enough to make him wish he were dead.
"King Asgore-!" Darian tried, scrambling to his feet and holding his sword over and across his chest like a would-be shield, his gun carefully at his side. "Please, let me explain!"
Asgore glared at him, his other hand held up and bringing forth bright, hot flames. "Explain what? How you failed me? My family? How you almost got my daughter killed?!" He threw the flames forward, and Darian had to evade them, trying to deflect them with his blade. He did get hit - a bad one - to the shoulder, and he winced, staggering a bit, the acrid scent of burnt feathers hovering in the air.
Asgore swung his trident again, and Darian didn't evade it, nor did he manage to block it. One of the tines grazed his arm, and he dropped his gun, unable to keep hold of it, now. Grunting in pain, Darian realised that he was dead unless he did something and fast.
But his only solution was almost despicable. He felt a tinge of dismay at the thought of even trying it, yet he had to survive this. He had to explain. And he couldn't do that impaled on the king's trident.
The moment he landed on that thought, he was suddenly on his back, his legs having been swept out from beneath him without his even feeling it. He looked up - and suddenly had the tines of the trident at his throat, so close he could feel cold steel beneath his feathers and against his skin. Asgore glared down at him, his eyes almost crazed with grief and rage, and Darian silently apologised to him.
Then he shut his eyes and shifted, the flash of electricity, feathers, and dust consuming him for a moment long enough for Asgore to be thrown back a step and Darian to change shape.
When the dust settled, there, beneath the tines of his trident, lay Asgore's first human daughter, the one he had failed to save.
Chara.