A one-shot, spin-off because I miss this little family.
Lipstick. Red of course. Then she was ready to go.
It had been a while since she'd seen any of her friends from her old college course. Most of them had moved to a foreign country or taken time off to go travelling. Charity had been left behind. Not that it had mattered in the grand scheme of things. She'd made new friends since...
However, when a group of her old girl friends had called her up out of the blue to say they were coming to visit, she'd been delighted by the news.
As much as she loved her two roommates, Sans and Papyrus weren't the type for clubs and bars. Unless it was Grillby's and you couldn't really dance at Grillby's. The jukebox was still broken. So, after slipping into her heels and checking her hair one last time, she ventured from her bedroom to the lounge to grab her handbag before the taxi arrived. The sound of her shoes on the floor boards caused Sans to lift his eyes from his book. He seemed to be taking notes. But, as she peeped quickly over his shoulder, she couldn't make out a single thing.
"Heh. Don't you look formidable," he said with a glance at her attire.
She cast him a bemused from over her shoulder.
"Formidable?" She repeated, quirking a brow at his peculiar choice of adjective.
"Yeah..." he mused, eyes flitting between his notes and her tight jeans.
"You look like you could ruin my life," he said casually, his smirk cast into his book. He always looked away when he said something that risked ticking her off.
She rummaged through her handbag, checking everything was there- phone, purse, lipstick, I.D
"Your life in particular, bud?"
He chucked, low and slow, like she had grown so accustom to over the last few months.
"Many lives."
She snapped her handbag shut and flung it over her shoulder, striding over to where he sat slouched in an armchair.
"Is this a compliment or an insult?" She asked, her index finger pushing his book down so that he was forced to look at her.
He lifted a shoulder, "take it as you will." A wink. A lazy grin.
Before she could open her mouth to counter his cheek, his younger sibling walked in bringing with him all the warmth and joy that his aura naturally seemed to emit. The frosty look between Sans and Charity hung in the air only for a moment after.
"Wow, Charity!" Papyrus exclaimed, "you look cool!"
Charity tore her eyes from the challenging stare she'd been holding with the older sibling, "why, thank you paps!" She responded with a smile in his direction.
"At least you know how to formulate a decent compliment." She shoved Sans playfully as she walked by. He grunted and gathered up the notes that had slipped from his hands.
"My taxi is here."
She kissed the younger sibling softly on the cheek before bidding them both goodbye.
Her friends had planned the night ahead of time. They would first grab some food, then head to the nearest place that played upbeat music. They joked that so long as there was rum, Charity would be happy.
"What do you girls take me for?"
The night had been a well needed escape from the encroaching tedium of working in a book store five days a week. Although Alphys made the time pass far more quickly with her conversations on anime and robotics, the routine still required a break now and again.
Ever since the monsters had come to the surface and settled into their new lives under the guise of humans, Charity's days had become far brighter and her eyes hadn't opened to way more things. Though, like with everything, time had a way of rendering things 'normal' again.
As she walked the last few streets back home, feet throbbing form dancing and steps swayed by alcohol, she pondered all the strange new things she had come to call 'normal.' Like living with two monsters, skeletons, that used magic to disguise themselves as humans. Two brothers. One tall, one short, (she still teased him for the extra three inches she had over him, even without heels,) one like sunshine, the other like moon glow.
Despite her wandering thoughts and unsteady feet, the rum in her system wasn't enough to nullify the sense from her. It was late. And she was a young woman all alone. She blinked hard and quickened her steps. She wasn't far from home now. Past Muffet's cafe, past the book store where she and Alphys worked, past Grillby's...
A noise to her left made her jump. When her heel slid from the curb, she only just caught herself. But not before a sharp pain shot up her ankle. Damn her jumpiness and damn these shoes...
Upon hearing the sound a second time however, she was certain that it was indeed her name being called. Or hissed, quietly, from the alleyway that led from the back of Grillby's to the street. The bar itself was shut at this hour. But that voice- it sounded familiar. With her chest heaving, she paused to squint into the darkness that the street-lamps above her couldn't reach.
"Hello?" She called. The voice. It couldn't be. Why would it be?
"S-Sans?" She tried, cautiously, taking a step towards the gloom on a sore ankle.
From out of the black curtain of darkness that separated the street from the alley came a pale hand. It slid feebly across the wall, barely supporting the body attached to it. As they broke the barrier of gloom into the light of the street, she saw that the fingertips were slick with claret. The hand slipped from the brick and the body hit the concrete below.
Charity's eyes widened. A head of bright, white hair, the blue jacket she had borrowed so many times despite its owner's wishes, the baggy white t-shirt now stained with blood.
"Oh my god!" She collapsed to her knees next to him while he shakily put his hands beneath him in an attempt to push himself upwards to greet her.
"Charity..." he managed as her arms went to his shoulders.
"You're bleeding!" She whimpered, unable to state anything other than the obvious. But then...
"Y-you're bleeding?"
Her mind flashed back to all the stories Toriel and Undyne had told her about monster lore. How they were made of magic and dust...
But as her eyes frantically scanned her friend, now leant into her body for support, what she saw was nothing like the wounds left after inflicting damage on a monster.
Time still hadn't granted her the courtesy of helping her forget about the attack on Papyrus. How the dust seemed to seep from him in miserable swirls...
"H-how come you're bleeding? What's happened!" She choked, swallowing down the panic that had risen to catch in her throat.
"The lab..." was all he replied. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
"Lab?" She repeated, hand cradling his head gently.
"You mean Alphys? I should call-"
"Don't!" He rasped, his hand closing over hers when she had reached for her phone.
"Can't tell..." He spluttered, flecks of scarlet covered her jeans. How...
"Just tell me what to do!" She pleaded.
"Help me up," he wheezed. And she did so, as gently as possible, ignoring the throb of her feet and the sting of her ankle.
"Shortcut..." he managed, once they were back on their feet. And he even managed a smile as he gripped her wrist. She knew what to expect next. He'd done this trick once before. No sooner had the syllables left his blood-coated lips, the air was sucked from her lungs and the vision from her eyes. With a small 'pop' they had jumped from the alley.
When their feet hit the ground of their new location, the soft crunch underfoot was a slight giveaway. The immediate cold was the next. They were in Snowdin. When she looked down at her friend, it seemed as though that small bit of magic had zapped him clean out. No longer able to maintain his human appearance, Sans' skeletal form hung miserably in her grasp. He had transported them directly in front of he and his brother's old home. Or rather, to the side of their old home. In front of a door she'd never seen before.
Before she could question why he had transported them here, her attention turned to his fumbling hand. It dug feebly in his pockets. And when his hand emerged, he was holding a silver key that he then attempted to fit inside the lock. Shifting his weight on her shoulder, she reached over and took it from him to open the door with herself with her steadier hand. She heard him grumble a faint word of thanks as the door swung open on its hinges. Steps descended into darkness. Sans' feet moved first and, still supporting him around the shoulders, she led them both down the stairs. Once they were at the bottom, Sans' bloodied hand groped for the light switch. When they flicked on, Charity couldn't help but gape in astonishment. This was the last thing she thought she'd find attached to the skelebros' house.
"Sans why-" she began, but he'd slipped himself from her grasp and stumbled towards the sleek table top where he placed his shaking hands on for support. She watched in silent confusion as he began searching drawers and cupboards for something. As he reached up to open one, he audibly winced and doubled over. Charity hurried over just as his knees gave in and he crumpled sideways onto the tiles.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed. The last him he remembered was Charity calling our to him as the floor of his lab grew closer. When his vision finally returned, he was vaguely aware that he was still lying on the floor, though his head was propped up against something soft. Shortly after, he realised that it's must be his jacket, as he was no longer wearing it. He tentatively touched at where the knife had cut across him. The blood on his t-shirt had started to dry. There was a bandage where there shouldn't have been an open wound. Carefully, he turned his head to seek out Charity. But the soft that greeted him next made him go still with shock. Stood over the blueprints he'd left out was a tall figure in a long lab coat...
No...it can't be-
"You're awake! Oh, thank goodness!" The figure turned and a wave of relief washed over him. Relief? Disappointment? It was Charity. She hastily put down whatever she had been studying.
"Why are wearing that?" Was the first thing he spoke. When he tried to sit up, a jolt of pain ripped through him. Charity laid a gentle hand on his chest and guided him back onto his makeshift pillow.
"Sorry. It was just hung up. I was cold..."
Her large, blue eyes scanned his face. They were anxious and slightly wet. He suspected she had been crying.
"I didn't know what to do. You're injury. It's not-you're not-" but she trailed off. She'd noticed that his eyes were darting from her to the large, covered object at the of back of the room.
Did she look?
His face face must have conveyed his thoughts perfectly because her expression softened when she said "I didn't peek."
She continued before he could make any sort of reply.
"I figured the chance of me knowing what it was anyway was pretty slim. And if you went and died on me, I'd be forever mystified." She managed a weak smile.
Sans touched at his wound again. Charity must have been perplexed by what she had found when she had peeled back his t-shirt. Embarrassment flooded through him. Neither monster nor human. Not quite flesh but not just bones. Something between magic and matter.
Once again she read his thoughts.
"I erm. I used the first aid kit in the drawer. Like I said, I er- tried my best."
He couldn't quite keep her eye, though her stare was almost challenging. He could tell she was waiting for him to explain himself. To explain why he bled like her but looked like a monster. Which form was his real form? Human or skeleton? Or neither. Or both?
When he didn't speak, he heard her heave a shaky sigh. And when he finally dared meet her eye, his heart dropped to see she was once again crying.
"Hey, c'mon. Buddy." He reached over to place a hand on her knee- a gesture he always did when attempting to comfort her.
"No tears. Paps turns on the water works enough without you-"
"Does he know?" She cut in, wiping away a tear.
Sans closed his eyes then slowly shook his head. "Na."
Even with his eyes closed he could sense her bristle, he could feel the questions forming on her lips before she even spoke them.
"What happened? What-what are you? W-Who are you?" She sniffed hard. When he opened his eyes, she was no longer crying but fixing him with a steely gaze.
He sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. "It's complicated. Even if I tied to explain-"
"Try me." She retorted, hands balled into right fists on her thighs as she knelt beside him.
His jaw worked as his mind reeled. There was no way he could explain. Parts of the truth he'd even forgotten himself. Everything was a blur of timelines and alternate realities. A mixture of magic, science and mystery. He sensed her impatience growing with every second of silence that ticked by. Without a word, she pushed to her feet and stride over to the sheeted object at the back of the room. Sans' breath hitched as he watched her reach towards the lilac sheet.
"Fine. How about we start with this? It's clearly-"
But didn't let her finish. As she made to pull the sheet off, his hand had sliced upwards in a flash of blue. Upside down she flew, the long lab coat falling over her head, her ankle glowing the same shade as his left iris.
The use of his magic drained what little he hadn't left of his energy, but he held fast. This isn't how he had wanted this to go. Drowning out her cries of protest and struggle, he racked his brains for a solution to this mess. Unfortunately, the only one that would come to mind wasn't the most ideal. But as he felt himself being depleted, he could do nothing else but go ahead with his rushed plan.
Charity awoke to the feeling of warmth and the smell of fresh linen. When she creaked open her eyes, she was greeted to the familiar sight of her bedroom. Her skinny jeans and high heels lay discarded on the floor. As she went to rub her eyes, she noticed that her hand came back covered in mascara; she hadn't taken her makeup off last night. That's tequilas fault...
She groaned at the dull throb behind her eyes as she made to sit up. It was only when she turned and flicked on the lamp bride her that she noticed she wasn't alone. Whoever was laying next her was still sleeping soundly. Funnily enough, she immediately recognised the sound of their breathing.
"Sans?" She whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently shaking him. This wasn't the first time they'd fallen asleep next to one another's in the time they'd spent living together. Sometimes it would be curled up on the couch after a movie marathon or in her bed after a late night chat. But the fact she couldn't remember anything from the night before, and the sight of their discarded clothes strewn across her room caused her to fret. What the hell happened? Surely not...
He grunted quietly when she shook him again, this time a little more vigorously.
"Sup, Charity?" He mumbled, turning to face her. He was in his human form and looked particularly disheveled.
"What are you doing here?" She hissed, her mind still reeling.
"Well, I was sleeping..." he groaned. As he shifted, Charity noticed him wince and he eyes dropped to where his hand had automatically gone to his chest. He was still wearing his t-shirt but his jacket was draped haphazardly over her chair by her dresser.
"Are you okay?" She asked, still watching him curiously as he tried to mask his discomfort with an attempt at a smile.
He opened his mouth to answer but instead just settled for a nod of his head. When she made to grab his hand, he was clearly in too much pain to evade her. She took him by the wrist and held it above him with her other hand boldly grasped his t-shirt. The alcohol left in her system made her act so boldly as she lifted the fabric high enough to reveal most of his torso. She squinted awkwardly at what she saw...which was nothing.
"Feeling frisky, heh?" He teased, wriggling his wrist from her slackened grip.
"What the hell, Sans?" She huffed, yanking his t-shirt back down.
"How come you're wincing like that? I thought you were hurt!"
A peculiar expression dashed his features; something between guilt and frustration.
"Slept funny..." was all he mumbled, sinking back beneath her covers til only his eyes peaked above them.
Charity furrowed her brow. He was certainly acting strange, which didn't fill her with much relief about what on earth had happened he might before.
"What happened last night?" She frowned, flopping against her pillows as her fingers went to her temple.
"You came home very late, Papyrus told you off for walking home alone, then I put you to bed."
Charity's brows shot up. "Please don't tell me you undressed me." She eyed her inside-out skinny jeans that lay on her rug.
Sans merely chuckled, still nothing but his closed eyes visible above her bedsheets.
"No, you eventually managed to get out of your jeans then rolled into bed. I put the covers over you."
"And what thinks you have the right to get under them with me?" She asked, frowning down at him.
She expected him to follow with a playful joke or teasing comment, but instead he remained silent, his eyes slowly opening to stare idly into the gloom.
"Sans, are you okay? You can talk to me you know."
He was clearly hiding something from her. His hand was once again clutched to his chest, his jaw worked as he seemed to have a mental debate with himself.
"I just wanted to say thanks," he said in an uncharacteristically sombre voice.
Charity furrowed her brows.
"For what?" She asked.
"For being a good friend."
Though really, what he wanted to say was; Thank you for saving my life and I'm so sorry I had to reset the timeline to keep it a secret. Unlike you, I'm not quite so formidable.