A/N: Later than intended, because NaNo is going ridiculously well but taking up a whole lot of my time. (Probably for the best, because the next chapter needs a scene that I forgot to write. Oops. I'll get there.)

Content warnings in the end notes that I seriously recommend you heed if you're the sort that appreciates content warnings.

Undyne gets some human money from Toriel, and talks to the human child she made friends with, and he goes to the bookstore and gets a stack of books for her, and she gives them back to Toriel. She sits up in the night reading those, now, instead of writing a syllabus.

She gets a computer and sets up a divider in the living room, making a makeshift office. Asgore comes down sometimes, to help her with her research. Alphys comes pretty often, too.

The problem is, Alphys always looks very unhappy to be there. She starts avoiding your gaze. When she's here by herself and not with Undyne, she begins avoiding you entirely.

You understand why she's doing it, but you don't want her to. So one day you have Sans tell you the next day she's planning to come, and you sit outside Toriel's front door, ask Sans for a few hours of privacy, and wait.

She looks surprised to see you, and a little bit worried that you want to go wander the ruins, but she agrees, and the two of you take a slow stroll, retracing part of the path back to the cavern's new-old entrance.

The two of you walk through the ruins together, not far from Toriel's house. You're both careful around traps, and Alphys has a good memory for switches and places not to stand. You realize that you have no idea how strong she is, but with her skill at disarming traps—not to mention a girlfriend who could probably beat any other monster in the Underground single-handed—it doesn't seem to matter.

You make your way to a room where there's nothing but a pile of leaves. You'd been surprised, the first time you'd been through here, that all the leaves seemed to have come from the tree in front of Toriel's house, but somehow or other they'd ended up just about everywhere. There was no sign in this room telling you not to step on them, so you and Alphys sat, listening to the faint sound of the wind whistling through the ruins. The leaves were soft and slightly crackly under your hands.

"…Can I ask you something?" you say, as you pick one up and turn it gently over again and again, careful not to tear it.

Alphys seems uncertain. "W-what is it?"

"I want you to stop," you say.

"S-stop what?" Alphys asks. Now she sounds scared, which isn't what you were expecting.

"Stop working with Toriel and Asgore to study human medicine," you explain. You set the leaf aside and clench your fingers together in your lap. "Stop trying to figure out how to save me."

You don't realize she's been wringing her hands, claws twisting around each other, until she stops. Her eyes are wide. "But…"

"You hate it." The words are forceful in your mouth, but you mean them. "With everything that happened before, you shouldn't have to do medical research ever again. Not if you don't want to."

"But I do," Alphys insists, and her eyes are wide. "Frisk, if we don't do this…"

"No." It isn't hard to interrupt her, not at all, and not just because she'd paused. "Stop. You hate this, and it's hurting you. You deserve to work on things you enjoy."

"I c-can't," she says. "If I do, y-you'll—"

"I'll die or I won't," you say, and she flinches. "And either way, it won't be your fault. You seem sadder than you used to. It's bad for you."

"It's bad for everyone," Alphys protests. "It's worse for you."

"I don't think it is," you say. She stops kicking at the leaves underfoot, then starts again.

"W-w-what do you mean by that?"

"I saw your letter back then," you tell her. "I don't know exactly what you meant, but you were ready to die, weren't you?"

It isn't really a question, but Alphys tries to answer anyway. "I…that was just…b-being practical! Y-yeah, practicality. The Amalgamates were p-pretty unstable, d-down th-there…"

You wait for her to continue, but she doesn't. It seems she's given up on excuses.

"You shouldn't have to do that ever again," you repeat, softly, and Alphys begins to shake in earnest. She curls up into a little ball and hides her face against her knees. Her tail ends up wrapped awkwardly around her torso.

You can't tell how bad this is, but you get out your cell phone just in case. When she starts to quiet down a little, you hold it up (even though she can't see) and ask, "Do you want me to call someone? I can call Undyne."

"N-no," she gasps. "No, just…give me a minute."

"…Hug?" you add. If it were most of your other friends, you wouldn't ask, but Alphys is different. Asking seems wise.

"A-also in a…in a minute," she says, and tightens her grip around her knees.

"Sure," you say. You scrunch gently at the leaves on either side of you. "I'm sorry," you add, voice tiny. "I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, or remind you of bad things."

She peeks up at you. "Then why…"

Why did you bring it up? You feel a pang of remorse, but you had a good reason. "I know you hate this," you say. "You're pretending that you don't because you're kind and care about me, and because Asgore and Toriel want your help, but that isn't fair to you. It's too much pressure." You swallow hard, trying to make the next words come out calm instead of fierce. "Please stop forcing yourself. You don't even have to say anything to them. Just…let me tell them to stop asking."

What you won't say is that you're worried this pressure is literally killing her. You still remember finding that scrap of orange fabric in the snow, figuring out what it meant. The thought of something like that happening to Alphys is…it's horrible. You don't want to be the cause of it, no matter what.

"I-I-I…" She runs her claws along her crest, hiding her face in her knees. "I can't," she says, voice muffled. "The others would be so mad. They'd never forgive me."

"They're your friends," you say. "They care about you. They'll understand."

"I…don't think they will," she says. "You're their friend, too, and…"

"And I'm saying it's okay," you say. "I'll tell them. They'll have to understand."

"Are…are you sure?" She squeezes her claws together. "N-no, I shouldn't even be asking. Frisk…"

"I mean it," you tell her. "I'm determined about this. I don't like seeing you this way."

She's silent for a long time, apparently thinking it over. It's a promising sign. You wait.

"…Are you going to ask the others to stop, too?" she asks, voice flat.

It hadn't occurred to you to try it. "…Probably not," you say. "I think it makes them feel better."

"Is that…is that the only reason?" She looks you over. You aren't exactly sure what it is she's looking for.

"It's the most important one," you try, because it's true.

She takes a deep breath, long jaw clenching shut. Then she looks back up at you, gaze bleak but firm.

"O-o-kay," she says, and uncurls a bit. "If y-you say so, I'll do it. I'll s-stop."

You feel yourself relax. "Thank you."

"And I'll, uh, I'll t-take that hug now, if you still…?"

You gladly oblige, and she holds onto you for a very long time.

You talk to Undyne about it that night, over the phone. She listens solemnly to what you tell her, and thanks you, and promises that she'll keep a close eye on Alphys over the next few days.

"And Frisk…seriously, thanks," she says again as you're saying your goodbyes. "I wouldn't have even thought of asking, but…yeah. Don't worry, I'll look after her."

Your phone clicks as she hangs up and you fold it shut, setting it on the small table Toriel's moved to stand by the bed and settling back. You stare up at the ceiling in the darkness and listen to the faintest creak of Sans, apparently already asleep at a precarious-looking angle in Toriel's borrowed desk chair. You don't regret your decision, and you don't think the others will, either. Maybe Toriel will be upset, but she never approved much of Alphys to begin with. You'll talk to her about it, you promise yourself. In the morning. For now, you just want to sleep.

You do have the conversation with Toriel, just like you promised yourself, but you almost forget to because that morning you wake up sick.

It's odd, because technically you counted as being sick before, but this feels like a proper sickness, all fever and coughing and sniffles. Toriel feels your forehead and bustles you out to her large chair in front of the fire, installing you with hot, honeyed tea and several blankets. Sans appears shortly thereafter, as you're explaining to Toriel what you talked to Alphys about. She's pulled a chair from the dining table and is sitting on it, working on her knitting. She frowns down at it, but you're not sure if it's because she's upset or she's trying to remember the pattern.

"I see," she says finally, when you're done explaining. She seems sad, but she argue. She just says, "Well, it is your choice to make, and a very kind one. I am sure the others will understand, as well."

She gives you a warm smile and stands. "Are you feeling all right? Toasty enough?"

You nod.

"I was thinking of going into town today, but now that you're ill…"

You shake your head. "You should go."

"yeah, go on, tori," Sans says, and lifts a corner of your blanket in two fingers, winking. "i've got them covered here, no worries."

"If you are sure…" she says, looking between the two of you.

You glance at each other, and give her a thumbs-up in unison.

She chuckles. "Well, I can hardly argue with that. Lunch is in the refrigerator. I will be home this afternoon."

She leaves, and you spend a lazy day with Sans. Unsurprisingly, he's good at lazy days. Either he's napping more again, or he's faking it to make you feel better about doing it, too—you can't tell which it is. But his bones are always slightly warmer than room temperature, and the rest of him is all fluffy, cushy fabric. He's changed out his basketball shorts for sweatpants; when you ask him whether he wasn't too hot that way (he'd spent all day out in the snow in shorts, after all), he just grins at you in that way he has and tells you that he gives no bones about it.

But almost every part of him is soft this way, and he naps with you when you are tired and chats and jokes with you when you aren't, and it's a pleasant way to spend a morning and afternoon.

A day turns into a week.

The sniffles go away, but the fever remains, appearing and disappearing at odd moments.

You start needing help to get up and down the hall, and your heartbeat keeps having moments where it just feels wrong.

Through it all, your friends stay close by—especially Sans.

When you wake up gasping for breath, or with sharp pains in your chest, he's there, two bony fingers delicate on your wrist, counting even as he coaxes you through it. He texts Toriel with his free hand without you even noticing, or simply disappears when you start to calm down, and soon enough there's an infusion of healing magic or a new potion or medicine from Asgore's new research team, showing up to help you.

You know there has to be strategizing of some kind happening behind the scenes, but your friends aren't letting you see it. You don't know how the monsters on the surface are affording their new houses, or how money works for monsters, or really for grown-ups anywhere even. But you do know that Sans used to be the main breadwinner for himself and Papyrus.

You ask Sans at one point, when you're too sleepy to stop some of your thoughts from coming out of your mouth. You think it might be because you're starting to get feverish again.

"kid…" He smooths down your hair with an absent hand. "is that really something you should be worrying about right now?" You're pretty sure his other hand, pressing on your back, is feeling for a steady pulse. You aren't that upset, you think.

Just because you blurted something out a moment ago, so of course now that you're trying to say something on purpose, you freeze up. It's like that sometimes—you freeze up just when what you're trying to say is most important. So you just nod, and try out one of the signs that you've been learning on and off.

(You only learned a couple, before it started to feel like more effort than you could handle. Toriel had warned you, once, that it might be too late for you to learn them; she'd meant because you're not a little kid anymore, but she might be right in an entirely different way.)

You link your index fingers together twice, flipping your hands over in-between. Then you purse your lips, remembering, and link them once, tugging one hand forward. Friend, means the first sign, and you're pretty sure the second one means good friend.

You care about the monsters you've met in the underground, after all. While getting out to save everyone there became your goal before the end of your journey, ultimately it really became about helping the friends you'd gotten close to. You love these monsters—they're your family—and you don't want them exhausting themselves for your sake.

You think you see a twinkle in Sans's eye for a second, one that isn't from his ghostlight pupils. "man, kid," he says. "worry about yourself, all right?"

Not even a pun. You think your answer made him sadder than before. Does that mean you're right, and they really are doing too much?

You consider pushing him out of your chair and out of the house, making him go back to the surface and get another job or force the others to relax or something. You consider telling him to tell the humans to take you to one of their hospitals. (You make sure you keep your mouth shut this time—you're pretty sure you don't mean that, and don't want to say it unless you really, really mean it.) In the end you just sort of want to cry, so you give up and hug him tightly.

You know he can feel your body shuddering, and you know that you're probably worrying him. You focus on taking deep, steadying breaths, and ignore the tears that are starting to creep down your cheeks.

"frisk," he says. "i mean it. look…you're big and tough, yeah? you got all of us out of the underground and everything. well, more or less. but you were definitely the catalyst."

You nod against his shoulder. You know that much.

"and you fought most of us along the way. so you should know we're strong, too. you know that, right?"

You nod again.

"then…look, you gotta trust us, all right? when we say that we're gonna help you, we are. we can handle it, frisk. we're big, strong, grown-up monsters, and we're gonna do our best to take care of you." He takes your shoulders gently and eases you back till he's looking you in the face. His ghostlight eyes aren't hiding, nor are they the tiny pinpricks he makes when he's sad or afraid. He looks…determined.

"just give up," you say, the words leaving your mouth before you realize where they're coming from. "i did."

Sans stiffens, and his eyes flicker out for just a second.

You backpedal. "No, I—" There was a thing you could say to explain, but it's gotten away from you. The Lost Spirit's words were so different from what you're hearing now, is what you meant. Everything felt so hopeless for you here on the surface, so how was it that he sounded so—

"'if i were you, i would've thrown in the towel long ago,'" he quotes at you, interrupting your train of thought. His eyes are back, just pinpricks this time, and he winks at you humorlessly. "i know. i said that too, didn't i? sorry. seems like all i can do is drag you down."

You shake your head vehemently. You really, really didn't mean it like that! "You've changed," you get out, and then, "You're Determined."

His eyes shift to the side, and after a long moment he nods. "heh. maybe not quite the same way you are. but you set a good example back there, you know? and out here, most of the problems are real new ones. for us, anyway. makes me feel like maybe we just haven't figured 'em out yet."

It's an encouraging thought. You smile and nuzzle in against Sans's chest. It moves in and out slightly when he breathes, and he runs his bony fingers down your back, adjusting the pressure until it feels soothing instead of tickling you.

If you ever get better enough for tickle fights, you think sleepily, he now knows all your weak spots. He's going to be unbeatable.

A/N: Warning for discussion of death, suicide, and similarly dark themes in this chapter.

(Also, I apologize for my mangling of a text description of ASL. I know nothing but a few quick web searches, so hopefully I didn't mess it up too badly.)