THERE IS SOME DIALOGUE THAT IS DIRECTLY RIPPED FROM THE GAME. ALL CREDITS FOR SAID DIALOGUE GO TO TOBY FOX AND HIS CREATIVE TEAM. I HAVE USED AS LITTLE OF IT AS POSSIBLE AND ONLY WHERE IT IS RELEVANT TO THE STORY. SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES WERE TAKEN TO ENSURE THAT NO HARM WAS DONE TO THE OFFICIAL CONTENT OF THE ORIGINAL GAME. ALL OTHER DIALOGUE IN THIS IS ORIGINAL.
PART ONE
PROLOGUE:
"I, Alphys, Royal Scientist of the Underground, document, record, seal, and hereby certify the death of Frisk Zayden Maddison. DOB: Unknown. Age: 7. Date of Death: 3/31/2029.Cause of Death: Unknown…"
Toriel held the certificate in her trembling hands as she silently cried, her tears blinding and stinging her eyes. On the table by her massive armchair was a scrapbook which she was going to make for Frisk, but it only served to be a painful reminder of the future she could no longer have. Frisk was now yet another child she lost in the Underground. He died from some sort of illness; she knew that much. In a grim way she was thankful that her ex-husband Asgore never put his hands on Frisk. This was the only silver lining that brought her relief. A very limited amount, but still some.
Sans sat by the fire in her living room trying to focus on the crossword from today's paper, but his eyes kept drifting back to the small tub of playdough Frisk used to play with. Pen in hand, Sans lightly tapped his skull with frustration. He had no idea what he was truly feeling: was it sadness? Anger? Anxiety? Or, more likely than not, numbness? This uncertainty filled him with uneasiness. It was better to just relax and take it all in stride. Nothing could be done about it now, so no use in dwelling on it. Besides, Frisk didn't reset, and there's no possibility of that happening anymore because his death was permanent; it's probably for the best. That feeling, whatever it was, still lingered despite this newfound hope. He shot a quick glance at Toriel, then looked back at his crossword which he hadn't even started.
"So, uh…how long was it?" Sans asked Toriel.
"How long was what?"
"Well, you know, since he died."
Toriel wiped her eyes with a delicate white handkerchief then laid the death certificate down on the table, right on top of the scrapbook.
"It has only been about two weeks."
"Two weeks? Geez, that's, uh, pretty recent. I thought more time had passed, honestly."
Asgore was idling in the kitchen and served Toriel and Sans slices of butterscotch cinnamon pie before taking a small one for himself. He immediately noticed that Toriel hadn't, or wouldn't, touch the pie, and it was left uneaten on her lap. He then stood behind the armchair and rested his right hand on it, secretly hoping he could rest his arm on her shoulder as he used to do. He couldn't find the inner strength to look at her directly knowing everything he had done to the other humans who fell before Frisk. He never wanted things to come to that, but it had to be that way, for the good of his people, and to give them hope. But that hope came at a horrible cost.
"We did everything we could for him," Asgore said, trying to slowly reach his hand over her shoulder. Toriel swatted his hand away with force.
"Don't offer me your worthless comfort. You knew exactly what you were doing with the others. And don't even think about pretending you wouldn't have done the same to him either."
Asgore looked down and hung his head in shame.
"I know." He massaged his temples with his hand. "And I'm sorry—"
"If you were REALLY sorry, you would have stopped after the first human and actually LISTENED to my plan, would you not? YOU made that choice. Now you have to live with its consequences."
Asgore took a step away from the chair and sat on the floor trying to eat the pie, but he only lightly picked at it with his fork. Sans still sat by the fire pretending not to hear the conversation. He finally became distracted enough to attempt the crossword. First clue: "When a monster dies, it is _." Answer: "Fallen Down." That first crossword line was strangely funny given the heaviness of what was going on.
"Yeah, thanks for the pie, Asgore. It's good. Never had it before."
"You're welcome, Sans. Feel free to come by my home for more anytime."
"Cool. I gotta share this sometime with Papyrus. He'd love it."
"I'd be more than happy to oblige." Asgore walked back to the kitchen and picked up a tea kettle.
"Would any of you like some tea? I brought the golden flower tea that you like," Asgore said, turning to Toriel. She relented a little bit and nodded. Sans gave a halfhearted thumbs up.
Asgore served the tea in little porcelain teacups that were painted white with daisies silhouetting the borders. Sans then came to the realization that with Frisk's permanent death, there would be no way out of the Underground. He could finally name what he was feeling earlier: grief. He grieved the loss of the future, the hopelessness of their situation, and, despite everything, he was grieving for Frisk. Sans let out a long and drawn-out sigh.
"Man," Sans said, "What are we gonna do?"
CHAPTER ONE:
"Prove it. Prove to me that you can survive."
Toriel prepared a series of magical attacks on Frisk, much to her discomfort and shame. She never wanted to hurt him and tried everything in her power not to, but she thought in her heart that she was doing her best to protect her child. He successfully dodged each attack with ease. Despite everything she was doing, Frisk refused to fight back.
"What are you proving this way?" Toriel asked in frustration.
"I don't want to hurt you, Mom."
"Attack or run away!"
Frisk tried to give Toriel a hug, but she gently pushed him back.
"Go away!"
The attacks gradually became less intense as Frisk insisted on sparing her. Toriel tried to remain detached from the situation, but she started to let down her guard despite her best efforts.
"Why are you making this so difficult?"
"Mom…" Frisk started to say, but he quickly lost his train of thought.
"Please, go upstairs…We can have a nice life here… I know we don't have much, but…"
Toriel's last thoughts got stuck in her brain before she could say anything. She felt a massive lump in her throat grow as she slowly realized the gravity of what she was doing. Pangs of pain seared through her chest; she was not ready to say goodbye.
"I want to go home."
Toriel took a deep and heavy breath.
"No, you're right. You would just be unhappy trapped down here. The Ruins are very small once you get used to it. My expectations, my loneliness, my fear…for you, my child, I will set them aside."
Though she tried everything she could to keep Frisk from leaving the Ruins, he was relentless in his stubbornness, much like Asgore. Once she gave him his final hug goodbye, she had to focus on taking care of the golden flowers. If she didn't, she would keep finding excuses to rescind her decision to let him go.
"If I let Frisk exit the Ruins, who will protect him from Asgore?"
"Frisk is far too young to go exploring the Underground by himself."
"The puzzles in Snowdin and Hotland are very dangerous. I can't let him take those risks."
"Will I ever see him again?"
These thoughts and others like them kept racing through her head, but she forced herself to regain her composure. Frisk was not actually her child, after all. But did that really matter? Chara wasn't her son either. It was evident enough that her son Asriel and Chara loved each other and became as close as blood. How could something like that be disrespected? What if she and Frisk could have had more? Did it have to be this way?
"Come on, Tori, focus. You know this is the right thing to do," she told herself as she turned away from Frisk for the last time.
"Someone has got to take care of these flowers."
CHAPTER TWO:
Frisk stomped through the snow, determined to get to where he needed to go. He wasn't sure how to get there or even where he was going, but he was determined to find a way out. When Sans first heard the tromping of Frisk's tennis shoes to the first gate, he remembered the promise that he had just made to the mysterious woman behind the door to the Ruins yesterday:
"If a human ever comes by, please, promise me you will protect and look out for them."
"Heh, you're just kiddin', right?"
"No, I'm being serious." She let out a small breath.
"Look, I hate making promises. Besides, I'm a sentry. I dunno if I can do that."
"Please. You're a dear friend to me. I couldn't possibly live with myself if any of my little ones get hurt, or…" She didn't want to complete that train of thought.
They sat in silence for an odd moment, their backs facing the door.
"Well," Sans said, making little snowballs and aimlessly tossing them, "You're definitely my best audience for my jokes. And I guess keeping an eye on them would be less work, you know?"
"Please," she begged, "Please promise me this. It would mean the world to me."
"…Alright. I'm not gonna let you down, 'kay?"
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
Sans idled by the door for a while, deciding whether or not he should break that promise should Frisk be dangerous. Well, it's not like humans were entirely good or entirely bad, much like monster kind. Except for Papyrus, of course: he is the gold standard of what everyone should be. Sans took a deep breath and followed the human to the gate.
"Human. Don't you know how to greet a new pal? Turn around and shake my hand."
Frisk froze in terror, not knowing what to do or say. When Sans put out his arm for a handshake, Frisk offered his in return, his arm trembling. Once he finally shook Sans's hand, he heard a loud farting sound.
"Heheh, the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. It's always funny."
Frisk laughed; everybody loves fart sounds. Fart sounds, and bubbles. Those two things are always awesome.
"Anyways, you're a human, right? That's hilarious."
Frisk nodded. "My name's Frisk. Who are you?"
"I'm Sans. Sans the skeleton. I'm actually supposed to be on watch for humans right now. But…y'know… I don't really care about capturing anybody."
"Okay, thanks Sans—"
"Now my brother, Papyrus, he's a human hunting fanatic." Sans took a peek across the gate and saw Papyrus coming from a distance.
"I think that's him over there."
Frisk stared at Sans with wide, fearful eyes.
"I have an idea. Go through this gate thingy."
"Really? Won't it keep me out?"
"Yeah, go right through. My bro made the bars too wide to stop anyone."
Sans and Frisk hurried through the open gate before Papyrus could see them.
"Quick, behind that conveniently shaped lamp."
Frisk looked at the lamp with a curious and confused eye; it resembled his own shape to a T. He still had no idea how it would be "convenient," but he hid behind it anyway.
Papyrus came marching down the path to scold Sans for being lazy and inattentive to their puzzles yet AGAIN. He would not be dealing with Sans's dumb excuses for anything this time around.
"What's up, bro?" Sans asked.
"You know what's 'up' brother! It's been eight days and you still haven't…Recalibrated. Your. Puzzles! You just hang around outside your station! What are you even doing?!"
Sans tried to hide the fact that he spent all of his time telling knock-knock jokes to the woman on the other side of the door. Then he remembered that Frisk was hiding behind the lamp; Papyrus had never seen a human before. This would completely make his day.
"Staring at this lamp. It's really cool. Do you wanna look?"
"NO! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT! What if a human comes through here?! I want to be ready!" Papyrus stomped his feet hard on the ground, his impatience growing.
"I WILL be the one! I MUST be the one! I will capture a human! Then, I, the Great Papyrus…will get all the things I utterly deserve." He stopped for a moment to think of the things he did deserve out of life, but there were too many to count. He settled with the things he needed the most.
"Respect…Recognition…I will finally be able to join the Royal Guard! People will ask, to, be my, 'friend?' I will bathe in a shower of kisses every morning!"
Sans moved his eyes back and forth between the lamp and Papyrus, hoping he would get the hint.
"Hmm…maybe this lamp will help you."
"Sans! You are NOT helping! You lazybones! All you do is sit and boondoggle! You get lazier and lazier every day!"
"Eh, can't deny that," Sans thought.
"Hey take it easy. I've gotten a ton of work done today. A skele-ton!"
Frisk stifled a laugh, his hands covering his mouth.
"SANS!"
"Come on. You're smiling."
"I am and I hate it." Someone as great as him was way too cool for puns, no matter how amusing they were. Papyrus let out an exasperated sigh.
"Why does someone as great as me have to do so much just to get some recognition?"
"Wow, sounds like you're really working yourself…down to the BONE."
Papyrus groaned.
"I will attend to my puzzles…As for your work? Put a little more, 'backbone' into it! NYEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!" Papyrus strutted away, proud of his last comment.
Sans turned to Frisk, who was still behind the lamp.
"Okay, you can come out now."
Frisk tiptoed around the lamp, looking around for any more dangerous people who would want to harm him. Frisk started to walk away, but was interrupted by Sans.
"Actually, hey…hate to bother ya, but can you do me a favor?"
"Sure, but what?"
"I was thinking…my brother's been kind of down lately…he's never seen a human before, and seeing you might make his day."
"What? Doesn't he want to kill me?"
"Don't worry, he's not dangerous, even if he tries to be. Thanks a million. I'll be up ahead."
Frisk kept walking on and off the path, looking for various places to explore and people to meet. Most of the time he kept running into the Royal Guard dogs, namely Doggo, Lesser Dog, and Greater Dog. Frisk's family always told him not to pet animals you don't know, but since they weren't around, the curiosity got the better of him. The dogs seemed to love the affection Frisk was giving them, and Frisk just liked petting animals. It was sort of a win-win scenario. An odd one, but still one nonetheless. As Frisk kept walking, he saw Lesser Dog building a bunch of snow sculptures, mostly of himself.
"Hey, can I play?" Frisk asked.
Lesser Dog barked, giving him permission, and Frisk tried rolling a big ball of snow to create a snowman. After several attempts to make a snow sculpture with Lesser Dog, Frisk got frustrated because he wasn't making any progress. He wasn't wearing gloves and his fingers started to become numb. He could hardly even move his hands.
He noticed how soft and fluffy Lesser Dog was with his bushy fur covering his entire body, other than the armor. Frisk tried to put his hands on Lesser Dog's head to warm himself, but the harder he tried to reach it, the more Lesser Dog's head stretched upwards. He eventually tried to settle with just the neck because there was more neck than body at that point. When he tried squishing his fingers into its soft fur, he couldn't move any part of his hands at all. Lesser Dog's fur didn't turn out to be too warm either; with his metal armor shielding him, it made his skin feel cool to the touch.
"So…cold…"
Frisk tried to put his hands in his pockets, but they weren't deep enough to cover them all the way. Frisk heard a loud and familiar voice in the distance.
"HUMAN!"
Frisk wanted to run away, but the cold air and his anxiety left him frozen where he was. He instead covered his face with his hands, which only made him colder.
"If I, the Great Papyrus, am to succeed in capturing you, you must not be too cold! Behold!" Papyrus showed off a winter hat and a pair of gloves that were far too big for Frisk, but Frisk took them anyway.
"You stayed in this one place for a while, and you didn't even touch my spaghetti! What were you doing?!"
"I was play—"
"I was surprised that you were still here."
"…How did you find me?"
Papyrus paced back and forth a little and pointed his gloved index finger into the air.
"Sans and I were waiting for you in Snowdin Town. I was worried about you." Papyrus reeled back at what he just said.
"But do not be fooled, human! I cannot capture you if you're not around to be captured. You will be japed by puzzles! Confounded by battles! And, you will be fooled by my masterfully created traps! NYEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!"
Papyrus proudly walked away.
Frisk wore the gloves and the hat; even though the hat almost completely covered his eyes, he managed to keep marching onwards because he was gradually starting to warm up again. Besides, if they really were waiting for him back in Snowdin, maybe he could go into their house and enjoy the heat in there. Frisk carried on, more determined than ever.
CHAPTER THREE:
The news of Frisk's arrival to the Underground quickly spread once he reached Snowdin town. Many of the locals of Snowdin were hesitant to even be associated with him at first. Humans were a thing to be feared and loathed for a good reason because of the war between them and monsters. However, Frisk was also the first human most of them had ever seen since many generations past. He proved, with his actions and kindness, that humans couldn't be entirely bad, or, at least, something to be completely hated without due cause.
Once they warmed up to Frisk, the townsfolk played with him, educated him on their local traditions, and sometimes gave him food. Though the library was small, Frisk spent a lot of his time there reading whatever new books he could possibly find, but the choices were few and far between at best. Papyrus also recommended whatever new things he was interested in to Frisk. Ironically enough, after their battle, Papyrus became one of Frisk's closest friends, outside of his new mother Toriel. Sans turned out to be right: Papyrus wasn't dangerous at all.
Sans, Papyrus, and Frisk were sitting on the living room couch of Sans's house watching the new comedy show which featured Mettaton. There were a lot of shows to choose from: history featuring Mettaton, cooking shows featuring Mettaton, news featuring Mettaton, game shows featuring Mettaton, and serious, heartfelt dramas all featuring Mettaton.
"Ugh, this show is the worst!" Papyrus flung his arms up with exasperation. "I am a skeleton with standards! These relentless puns don't fit them! That sexy rectangle is usually much better than this!"
Frisk was perplexed at that new word. Sexy? What on earth could that mean?
Frisk turned to Sans.
"Sans, what does 'sexy' mean?"
Sans shot Papyrus a glare.
"I dunno, why don't you ask Paps?"
"Papyrus, what does 'sexy' mean?"
"HAH! That's an easy one! For I, the Great Papyrus, am a living dictionary!" Papyrus pointed in the air with his gloved hand.
"Sexy: beautiful beyond belief, very smart, eloquent, and full of charisma! That is the epitome of sexy! Because I have standards, after all."
"Oh…" Frisk nodded, not quite knowing what 'eloquent' or 'charisma' meant, but he knew those other words had to be good ones too. He turned to Sans to affirm this definition.
"Uh, yeah…sounds like a good enough one in my book." Sans sighed with relief.
"Papyrus, you're very sexy!" Frisk was proud of his compliment, and Papyrus was proud of it too. Sans winced, now realizing what this was leading into.
"Hey, uh, maybe let's use a different—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Frisk strutted out the door, ready to use the new word he learned.
"Shop Bunny, you're sexy!"
"Hi Mister nice cream man, you're sexy!"
"Mister fire man, you're sexy!"
Frisk kept saying this new phrase to all of the other monsters he came across.
The other monsters were taken aback by this "compliment," and since no one else was around to teach Frisk this new word he learned, they came to the conclusion that it must have come from one of those wacky skeleton brothers. One particularly prudish older lady came knocking on Sans's door.
"I believe one of you must have been quite the… 'thesaurus'…for your little friend?"
"Well of course!" Papyrus said with excitement. "Saying someone is sexy is the utmost of the greatest compliments! After all, I, the Great Papyrus, am smarter than words can describe, so it was my honorable duty to teach Frisk what I know!"
"Oh." Her response was cold and detached. "So, it was you."
"Of course it was—"
Sans facepalmed and gave an exasperated look to Papyrus.
"Yeah, uh, I guess I'll get 'im," Sans said.
"You do that." The woman then flounced off in a rage.
Sans used one of his shortcuts to finally catch up to Frisk, and he appeared behind him.
"Frisk, that ain't a word for kids to use."
Frisk was perplexed. Papyrus's definition was the correct one, right?
"Why not?"
Sans thought for a little bit, trying to explain it to him in a way that he would understand, and that wouldn't cause any more trouble.
"Yeah, uh, that word is for…ya know… 'grown-ups'?"
"Why? Is it a bad word?"
Sans shrugged, not knowing what to say next.
"Yeah, kind of. It's a compliment for adults."
"Why?"
"Just trust me on this, 'kay kiddo?"
"Why?"
"'Cause I said so." Sans started to get annoyed at Frisk, but especially at his brother for being the "dictionary." He also knew he was partly to blame too for affirming what Papyrus said; he couldn't deny it.
"Why?"
Sans had the good sense to ignore Frisk's badgering as they kept walking back to Sans's house. Frisk was still confused as to how it was only an "adult" word. But he wasn't getting anywhere with Sans, so he eventually stopped asking.
Then Frisk's nose started running.
CHAPTER FOUR:
"Ugh, my nose feels gross," Frisk complained as he reached for another box of tissues by Sans's couch.
"It might as well be in a race," Sans said.
"What? Why?"
"'Cuz it won't stop runnin'."
Frisk snickered, much to Papyrus's chagrin.
"Sans! That pun was especially terrible! You need to raise your standards for your jokes!"
"Eh, come on Paps. You're smiling too."
"That was a PITY smile!"
"Sure, whatever."
Frisk blew his nose again on the last remaining tissues; by that point they were completely soaked with mucus and almost dissolved in the gooeyness when he finally threw them away.
"Hey, do you guys have any games? I'm kinda bored."
Sans frowned.
"Ya mean…you don't like…our company…?" Sans asked.
Frisk scrambled to find the right words to say for the situation.
"What? No! You guys are cool—I—I didn't mean THAT, I just—"
Sans laughed, probably harder than he should have.
"Ah, humans," he said as he chuckled, "You guys are so easy to tease."
Frisk looked at him, confused.
"So, you're not mad?"
"'Course not. I was just jokin'."
Papyrus rolled his eyes at Sans's lame prank and Frisk let out a sigh of relief.
"Yeah, but anyways, here's a thing Papyrus and I like to play sometimes."
"OOH! OOH! Please tell me you're getting out the puzzle box!" Papyrus said.
"The one and only, of course."
Puzzle box? Frisk had never heard of such a thing. Was it a box of puzzles? Was it a literal puzzle box? What kind of game would that entail? Frisk looked on as Sans got the box out of the end table by the couch, more curious than ever.
"HUMAN! Behold the meticulously made puzzle box! Be amazed by how glorious it is, for I, the Great Papyrus, helped make it with Sans!"
It was a cardboard shoe box with several out of place jigsaw pieces, word search papers, and pieces of string pasted onto it with glue. Frisk looked at it, bewildered.
"Uh…so. How do you…play?"
"Eh, be patient kid, that's just the outside of the box," Sans said, opening it. Inside of the box were several knickknacks and odd, cheap toys one would find in a fast-food kid's meal, along with rubber balls, silly stickers, a finger trap, and a tiny tub of playdough that hadn't been opened. Frisk snatched the tub and opened it: the dough was an iridescent dark blue speckled with shining white dots that moved as he held it. Frisk stared at the playdough, amazed.
"Wow, I didn't know playdough could do that!"
"What? Doesn't it always do that?" Papyrus asked, confused.
"Yeah kid, you've never heard of magic clay before?" Sans asked.
"Magic clay? What's that?"
"It's what you're holdin'," Sans replied.
Frisk squished it with his thumbs. The color of the clay changed to a shiny, metallic bright red. The more he fiddled with it, the more the colors changed. The clay also changed texture too as it went from being sandy, crunchy, bubbly, and fluffy within the span of a few minutes. Frisk became fascinated and couldn't pry himself away from it.
"So…cool. I wish we had magic clay where I come from."
"Huh. It's really not a big deal down here, they have that stuff pretty much everywhere," Sans said.
"I've got to take this with me! Can I have it?" Frisk pleaded.
"Sure thing! That'll be $5,000."
Frisk desperately searched through his pockets for the money, but he couldn't find anything. All he had was a quarter with a piece of gum stuck to it. Frisk gave Sans the quarter with a sad frown.
Sans laughed again.
"You're way too easy to mess with, kiddo," Sans said, giving Frisk his quarter back, "Consider it on the house."
Frisk and Papyrus started to play with the magic clay together, trying to build houses, shapes, and other silly things with it. But Frisk could no longer ignore his stuffiness, and he was getting unusually fatigued.
"I'm going to bed at the inn," Frisk said, slowly dragging his feet to the door.
"Why? It's not even 2:00!" Papyrus said, surprised. Sans looked surprised as well.
"I'll come back tomorrow, I promise," Frisk said, waving them goodbye as he took the clay with him.
CHAPTER FIVE:
Frisk had been staying at the Snowdin Inn for a few days. Normally he could take a five-minute nap and be well rested for the next day. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sleep at all.
It was probably just a head cold. With a few more days of rest and some proper medicine, he could probably go back into town and ask Papyrus to take him through Waterfall to finally figure out how to get home. He enjoyed Snowdin Town immensely, but he needed to go further into the Underground to find a way out. But for now, all he could do was rest for a little bit longer. There wasn't any real reason to rush ahead into potential danger, especially while sick. Frisk kept tossing and turning, his headaches and fever tormenting him with pain.
"Uh, so, is he really still at the inn? I didn't think he'd be there that long. Guess he musta really liked being inn-side."
The receptionist rolled her eyes at Sans's pun.
"We don't know what's going on with him. He's been in there for several days and won't come out. We've been running out of space for a few days now, and I have no idea what to do."
She looked down at her books furiously reading and rereading the reservations that were made, trying to make sure there would be room for other people soon.
"Eh, don't worry 'bout it. Maybe he'll open the door for me."
"Don't get your hopes up," the receptionist replied as she led Sans upstairs to Frisk's room.
In Sans's left hand was a copy of Peekaboo with Fluffy Bunny given to him at his brother's request. Sans had no idea what books Frisk would have been interested in, so any suggested books were good enough for him to give. Sans lightly knocked on the door.
"Heya kid," Sans said as he knocked, "You doin' good?"
Frisk wanted to ignore whoever was knocking, but hearing Sans's familiar voice was reassuring. Frisk coughed.
"…Mommy…," Frisk groaned, "I want my mommy." Frisk sobbed as he kept coughing. Nothing was making it stop.
"Geez, uh, you don't sound great. I don't think we can get to your mom though, since she's on the surface and all."
"No, she's in the Ruins," Frisk wheezed.
"Wait, that lady behind the door? She's your mom?"
"Yeah— wait, how do you know her?"
"Welp, she's an old pal of mine," Sans said, not wanting to go into any details about it.
"I don't feel good."
"Yeah, that's pretty evident. Tell ya what: if you come outta the inn, you can stay at our house till I go get her. Capiche?"
Frisk stumbled out of the bed, trying to get up, but he kept collapsing. Sans opened the door.
"Wow. This looks pretty bad. Want me to carry you?"
Frisk looked up at Sans, almost dumbfounded.
"How? You're short."
"Well, I guess you could say it's a longshot."
Frisk smiled with what little energy he could muster.
"I'm gonna lift you. Ready?"
Sans used his blue magic to lift Frisk out of the bed, which startled him. He tried to thrash around, but was too fatigued to move any part of his body. Sans sensed Frisk's discomfort and fear.
"Relax, I haven't dropped anyone…yet."
Then he remembered it wasn't the time to make jokes like that.
"Just kiddin'. You don't have nuthin' to worry 'bout."
With that, Sans carried Frisk out of the inn and into their house, where he was laid down on their couch. Frisk could hardly keep his eyes open and then finally fell into a turbulent, dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER SIX:
"Frisk, my child, are you alright?"
He slowly opened his eyes to the familiar voice of his mother, Toriel, who was standing above him by Sans's couch.
"Mom? I thought you weren't coming back."
Toriel gently stroked Frisk's forehead.
"Of course I came back. I cannot leave you in this state."
Frisk looked back and forth between Sans and Toriel, who were standing by him.
"I guess you kept your promise then," Frisk said, looking at Sans.
Sans shrugged.
"Promises ain't easy to make, but, well, they sure aren't worth breaking." He winked at Toriel. She smiled back.
Papyrus bounded out of his room and down the stairs.
"HUMAN—"
Toriel shushed him.
"Please, not so loud my dear," Toriel whispered. "Frisk needs to rest."
"Alright then, lady Asgore! I was just about to ask Sans when he was going to read Peekaboo with Fluffy Bunny, because I want to listen too! It is one of the greatest of all possible books, and I know Frisk will love it."
"Okay, that's fine," Frisk replied, barely being able to stay awake.
As Sans tried reading the book, much to Papyrus's excitement, he kept being interrupted by Frisk's constant coughing and wheezing.
"Eh, maybe we can read it later."
Papyrus sulked, clearly disappointed.
"I think some tea would be best for now, don't you agree Sans? Do you have any tea in your house?" Toriel asked.
"Nope, I don't really drink tea. Don't usually buy it, but I never would've guessed we'd need it."
"I wonder if your local shop sells any." Toriel turned to Papyrus.
"Papyrus, would you please go with Sans to the store and see if they sell any tea? I cannot leave Frisk alone."
"Of course, lady Asgore!"
"Dear, my name is Tori—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Papyrus was already out the door.
"Guess I gotta catch up with him," Sans said, then used a shortcut to follow his brother.
"Sans, I already told you! The golden flower tea must be bought, for I, the Great Papyrus, know that it is approved by the king himself!"
"I dunno, seems expensive. Besides, how do you know that anyways?"
"Undyne told me! After all, as captain of the Royal Guard, she should know. And it won't be long until I join her as second in command!"
"Uh huh," Sans said, drearily looking at any options available.
They walked down the aisles of the relatively tiny grocery store trying to find out which type of tea would be the best one to help Frisk. Papyrus stood still and zoned out.
"Hey, what'cha doing over there?" Sans asked.
"What— oh, uh, nothing I guess."
"Looks like something's troubling you."
Papyrus strolled with Sans down the aisle pretending to look for tea and other things they would need, but he kept getting distracted by his thoughts.
"Sans, have you ever had a friend you really, really admire? Like, a super-duper, can't live without friend?"
Sans thought for a moment, scratching his chin.
"Welp, can't say I've got that kind of friend other than you."
"Well, of course I know that!" Papyrus replied, patting Sans on the shoulder. Then he looked uncharacteristically serious.
"But at the same time, I wonder: what would happen to my friendship with the human AND Undyne? I can't imagine my life without her in it. I want her to be proud of me, let me into the Royal Guard, maybe let me be captain of it someday, but, then, how will she react to him?"
Sans looked up at a box of rosehip tea on the top shelf and used his blue magic to bring it down to his level; it was on sale and looked relatively useful. Sans put it in their shopping basket.
"Welp, you probably already know how she's gonna react, don'tcha?" Sans said as they continued walking.
Papyrus sighed, knowing Sans was right.
"How can someone as great as I am have a best friend who will hate my other best friend? I can't believe I'm saying this, for I, the Great Papyrus, am almost never stumped, but, alas, I am stumped. What should I do?"
Sans walked to the counter to purchase the discount tea and other groceries.
"Eh, I dunno, but you're really great. I know you'll figure out something."
CHAPTER SEVEN:
"What? What do you MEAN you didn't capture that human?! Did you even fight it?!" Undyne seethed, exasperated at Papyrus's antics.
"Of—of course I fought him—uh, 'it.' I fought it very bravely and tried to capture it, but…I failed."
Papyrus tried to hide his embarrassment in front of Undyne, but she knew him long enough that she could read his expressions like an open book.
"Seriously, Papyrus? You KNOW how close we are to getting free! With that last human's soul, Asgore could have broken the barrier by now!" Undyne impatiently paced back and forth, forming small spears and breaking them so she could do something with her hands, releasing her pent-up anger.
"Well, you see, you see—" Papyrus just remembered what was happening with Frisk.
"I can't capture the human! Not now, at least. He—they— 'it,' is sick right now. If I captured it, I— uh, we could catch the disease too, whatever it is."
Undyne rolled her eyes.
"That's a pretty lame excuse to not capture the human Papyrus. I'm not afraid of some stupid germs. Where is it anyways?"
Papyrus hesitated for a moment, but he wasn't getting anywhere with her. At the end of the day, he knew Undyne much longer than he knew Frisk, but nothing could ease the intense guilt he was feeling on both sides of the matter.
"…He's in Snowdin, at my house."
"Good. You at least told me that much. Let's get it before it's too late."
Undyne and Papyrus soon reached Snowdin via the river person's boat. Undyne pounded on the door.
"Sans! I know you've been hiding that human! Open the damn door!"
Sans swung open the door.
"Hey. What's up?" He looked somewhat surprised to see Papyrus beside her, looking ashamed.
"Heh, guess you blabbed then. But you guys ain't going to find the human here. Tori and the human left."
Papyrus let out a sigh of relief, hoping that Sans wouldn't tell Undyne where Toriel and Frisk went. But he also was confused as to where they could have gone so quickly.
"Wait, what? Papyrus, you said the human was here! Where the hell could it have gone?"
"I don't know, Undyne. Maybe someone else took him to Asgore for you? To get his soul, maybe?" Papyrus said, only half lying.
"Well, we don't have any time to lose," Undyne said, turning away from Sans.
"Papyrus, you'd better come with me, or I'm going to rip that human's soul away myself."
He reluctantly followed her, and Sans walked behind them shortly after.
"Guess this is gonna get interesting," Sans thought.
Papyrus and Undyne searched throughout Waterfall and Snowdin to figure out where Frisk could have gone. Sans followed close behind them, tempted to give them his location, but he still tried to keep his promise, at least halfheartedly. Seeing how distraught Papyrus was, Sans eventually caved. Either way, Papyrus felt incredibly anxious about what would happen if they found Frisk.
"Come on guys, they're in Alphys's lab. But, uh, I don't think you should be capturing the human anytime soon. He's…uh…in real bad shape."
Papyrus tried hard to hide his concern while Undyne brushed off Sans's comment as they continued walking.
"Pfft. Please. How bad could it be?"
"Eh," Sans said, about to use one of his shortcuts, "You'll see when you get there."
Papyrus and Undyne followed Sans through the shortcut and they arrived at the lab. Alphys's door was locked and she wasn't responding to Undyne's persistent knocking. Eventually, the three of them crouched beneath one of the few open windows of the lab to peek inside.
"Welp, there he is," Sans said.
Undyne and Papyrus looked in on Frisk and Toriel. It looked like Alphys was trying to give him medicine of some kind, and Toriel wouldn't leave Frisk's side. They couldn't hear what they were saying, mostly due to Frisk's constant coughing. At a quick glance, they almost saw that Frisk looked purple in the face due to his inability to breathe. A brief whooping sound could be heard every time Frisk tried to inhale.
"What do you think? Still think getting him is a good idea?" Sans said, turning to Undyne.
Undyne couldn't stop staring through the window, and neither could Papyrus. As much as Undyne wanted to kill the human and bring his soul to the king, she felt something odd well up inside of her. Not guilt, and especially not love, but pity. It wouldn't be fair to catch the human in this state. These pangs of pity confused her and made her feel conflicted about the whole situation.
"Damn Papyrus, you weren't kidding…"
Papyrus then thought of a solution that might satisfy both of them.
"Perhaps…" Papyrus hesitated. "Perhaps we can visit the human until he feels better, and THEN we can capture him." He waited for Undyne's response.
"I mean, I guess that works…" Undyne shook herself out of her concern.
"But as soon as that punk gets better, it's coming with us to the king! Deal?" Undyne said, reaching her hand out to Papyrus.
"…Deal," Papyrus said, giving her a limp handshake.
CHAPTER EIGHT:
With every miserable day and night that passed, Frisk found it harder and harder to breathe without going into a long and intense coughing fit. Whenever he could briefly catch his breath, the pain of nausea overcame him and he would frequently vomit. There were two things he wanted the most out of anything: he wanted to finally get over this illness, and he wanted the magic clay he had left at the inn when Sans took him home. The doctor, who was doing her best to take care of him, wore a scary looking lab coat and a worn-out surgical mask. He couldn't quite remember her name; was it Alice? Alphyne? Ally?
"My child, Dr. Alphys is going to take great care of you, I promise. In the meantime, would you like me to show you some interesting snail facts? I know a lot about snails, my dear," Toriel said.
Oh, right. Her name was Alphys: she was the weird looking yellow dinosaur lady with the scary lab coat. Frisk felt uneasy about her presence since he had no idea what she was trying to do to him, but if Toriel liked her, he guessed he could too.
Papyrus and Sans were hanging out in the back of the lab while Undyne stood by Alphys, waiting for her to ask for anything she would need. Out of all the things she could (and should) have been doing right now, she was here in Alphys's lab taking care of a sick child. A human child, no less.
"I've only been doing this because Papyrus is making me be here," Undyne said to Alphys, "But, I guess, it's nice to just hang out with you for a while. Even though we're doing something really weird."
"T-Thanks Undyne. You've been very h-helpful," Alphys replied.
Frisk went into yet another intense coughing spell; Toriel put a cool, damp cloth on his head while Alphys went back to prepare another healing tonic. Sans took a nap in an attempt to distract himself from what was happening, and Papyrus did his best to cheer up Frisk.
"Come on human! I know you can shake this off! Just do what I would do, believe in you!"
"Yeah, punk! You'd better get well soon, because I'm going to force you if you don't!"
Undyne almost couldn't believe what she was saying; why should she care if the human gets well or not? She found herself caring about it much more than she should have, but only under the peer pressure of Papyrus and Alphys. Since they clearly cared about him to this degree, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to at least attempt to give the human a chance. Undyne struggled to collect her thoughts and refocus on the bizarre task at hand.
"So Alphys, what else do you need me to do?" Undyne asked.
"W-well," Alphys replied, trying to get the tonic prepared, "I think there's something else that this is missing."
She frantically searched around the lab and went through a bunch of empty noodle cups, bags of chips, vials, and test tubes before she finally found what she was looking for: a tiny beaker filled with shining blue liquid kept sealed with a cork.
"Hah!" Alphys said, "I finally f-found it! Undyne, c-can you p-please open this? I-I lost my bottle opener a f-few days ago."
Without thinking, Undyne yanked the cork off of the beaker, spilling some of the contents of it onto the floor.
"T-t-thanks," Alphys said as she mixed the remaining liquid from the beaker with some other ingredients from different vials: one with clear, pale yellow, and reddish liquids respectively.
"Alphys, what is in these tonics?" Toriel asked.
"Yeah, I was just about to ask the same thing," Undyne said.
"W-w-well, it's a little d-difficult to explain," Alphys said, scratching her head, "B-but I'll do my best to give a s-simplified version of it."
Alphys started mixing the ingredients together before she started her explanation.
"The c-clear tonic is a d-disinfecting analgesic meant to reduce the coughing fits. T-the yellowish one is something I normally use for magically healing w-wounds, but when mixed with the clear tonic, it is something I can create to safely give to Frisk as a s-sort of antibiotic. The red t-tonic should work as a s-sedative to make Frisk fall asleep. And the blue tonic, it's a catalyst to chemically join the other t-t-three tonics to make them work faster and be s-safe for i-internal consumption. Without all of these put together, none of them would work on their own for this p-purpose."
As Alphys carefully focused and created the necessary chemical reactions, Toriel, Undyne, Frisk, and Papyrus stared intensely at what she was doing.
"Here, F-Frisk," she said, handing him a cup of water, "You're going to need to d-drink this before and after I give you this medicine. I-it's, um, quite p-p-potent."
Frisk could smell the tonic Alphys was going to give him right from the cot where he was laying down; it reeked like moldy cheese, burnt garlic, and rotten fish. When Alphys tried to approach him with the medicine, he thrashed around and whined.
"NO! Don't make me drink THAT!" Frisk shouted.
"My child, it is to heal you. You should listen to Dr.—"
"NO! I DON'T WANNA!"
"Frisk, my dear, she is not trying to hurt you—"
"NO! Make her stop! It's gross! I DON'T WANNA—"
Before Frisk could get another word in, Undyne formed a spear and held it against Frisk's throat.
"Shut the hell up, you little brat! Alphys worked hard to make this for you! You'd better drink every last goddamn drop because I got more spears where that came from!"
Frisk froze in fear from the blade pointed at his neck, and when he was finally distracted, Alphys apprehensively gave Frisk the tonic in a small cup. He drank the entire thing without further protest. When he was finished, Alphys gave him a large bottle of water which he eagerly gulped down in a few swigs.
"Undyne, that was wholly unnecessary," Toriel said, scolding her.
"Well, it worked, didn't it?"
"It did, I suppose, but I will not let you threaten my child with violence." Toriel stroked Frisk's hair as he fell asleep.
"I wasn't actually going to use it on him, he just needed a little… 'motivation.'"
Sans woke up from his nap, sensing the building tension. He appeared between Undyne and Toriel.
"Eh, either way, guess it's best not to press it any further. It's gettin' late anyway," Sans said, motioning for Undyne and Papyrus to follow him out.
"Sorry for the trouble, Tori," Sans said, winking at Toriel as he left.
"Do be careful out there," Toriel called after him. Sans and Papyrus waved back as they walked out the door with Undyne.
CHAPTER NINE:
"Frisk! I found the magic clay that you dropped at Snowdin Inn!" Papyrus shouted, carrying the little tub of it in his hands. Frisk looked up and beamed when he finally saw it; he had been waiting to play with it for several weeks, and he was beyond grateful that Papyrus had gotten it to him at last.
"Wow, thanks!" Frisk said, and he took out the clay and began to play with it with the limited strength he had left in his hands.
Undyne stood next to Papyrus, dumbfounded.
"How can that little dweeb be so fascinated by magic clay? I thought humans would be chock full of that stuff given their history."
Frisk looked up at Undyne, puzzled.
"No, we don't have stuff like this where I'm from. All the normal playdough is super boring compared to this."
"Huh? What does your 'normal' playdough feel like then, punk?!"
"Well…" Frisk struggled to come up with the words to explain what nonmagical playdough is. "I guess…it feels like bread. But mushy."
"So, you dorks play with squishy bread?! How many times does it change color?!"
"It doesn't. It stays the same when you smush it."
Undyne stared at Frisk, shocked at what he just said.
"You mean…humans…don't have any magic clay? At all?"
Frisk shook his head.
"Wow, what a bunch of losers! Don't even have any magic clay! Please tell me you at least get bullet-pattern cards!"
"What's that?"
"You don't know what—ugh, never mind!" Undyne threw her arms up in frustration. "I've got to ask Alphys about this. She knows a TON of human history."
Frisk perked up, fascinated.
"Really?"
"Of course, really! She and I have a whole COLLECTION of human history books! NGHAAA!" Undyne threw down a huge pile of assorted manga books, most of them Shonen action packed adventures.
Frisk recognized some of the books; at a glance, Frisk saw a faded-out cover of Dragon Ball Z. He didn't have the heart to tell Undyne that they were fictional. That, and he was also terrified of her as well. The only reason he was even talking to her at all was because Papyrus was standing next to him; if she decided to attack him again, Papyrus would save him from her.
"Well, punk?! Are you ready to learn some history?!"
Frisk started coughing again and couldn't catch his breath. Every time he tried to inhale, he only coughed harder and harder. When he was lucky enough to catch one small breath, he wheezed harshly before puking all over the cot; the magic clay fell out of his hands and onto the floor. Papyrus stepped back, terrified of what was happening to Frisk.
"Ah, geez man! Alphys!" Undyne called out to her, "This dork needs your help!"
Alphys ran out from her room, startled by the commotion.
"Oh n-no," she said as she approached Frisk.
She swiftly changed the sheets on Frisk's cot and checked his vital signs with the limited tools available. He was running a fever of 102.5. Alphys took a sponge with lukewarm water and patted it all over Frisk. It wasn't the most ideal thing to do in that situation, but it was all that she had.
"W—wa-ter," Frisk sputtered through his coughs.
Toriel walked in the lab carrying a large bag filled with pediatric pain relievers, golden flower tea, a water bottle, coloring books, and children's cough syrup. She was horrified when she saw the state of Frisk.
"My child! Are you alright?"
"Yeah, you missed quite a bit while you were away," Undyne said.
"Oh dear, I knew I should have never left you that long. Frisk, what is it that you need?"
"M-mom—wa-ter!"
Toriel dropped the bag and scrambled to find the water bottle she had bought. When she fished it out, she hastily opened it and gave the bottle to Frisk.
Frisk wanted to chug the water as he was incredibly thirsty, but he could only manage to swallow a few sips before another fit began. Papyrus gently patted Frisk on the head.
"Do not worry, Frisk!" He picked up the magic clay. "I'm going to save this for you when you get better!"
CHAPTER TEN:
Nothing was working. Even Alphys' best research and tonics could not make Frisk well. He got worse and worse every day. Eventually Frisk wouldn't wake up unless it was to drink or eat something light, but even then, only briefly. The coughing fits started to last longer and became more frequent and painful over the days that passed.
Sans, Papyrus, and Undyne would come and visit Frisk and Toriel in the lab almost every day. While Undyne usually hung out with Alphys in the back of the lab, Sans and Papyrus often stayed with Toriel and Frisk to give them moral support. This day, Undyne oddly arrived at the lab before Sans and Papyrus.
"Man," Undyne said to Alphys, "This is just weird. I never thought I'd care about a human before, but, he's just, 'different' from what I've known about humans."
"I u-understand. This is an u-unlikely s-situation we're in," Alphys said, not looking away from her computer.
She was binge watching Mew-Mew Kissy Cutie for the hundredth time, trying to distract herself from her many and impending failures. On the left-hand side of her desk were stacks of papers containing graphs and figures for the experimental treatments she made: what the ingredients were, how she made them, Frisk's responsiveness to the treatments, etc. They laid neatly in a pile underneath noodle cups, action figures, and the multitude of manga comic books that she had collected over several years. She wanted to go over the latest lab results of the newest tonic, but couldn't bring herself to do it. Even if Frisk survived, it wouldn't be any thanks to her accomplishments. But with each new failed experiment, Frisk's prognosis looked grim at best.
Undyne pulled up an extra chair and sat next to Alphys to watch the show with her.
"It must be nice to live on the surface. That little dweeb must be so lucky: I mean, look at all those epic sword fights they have up there! Can you imagine carrying a sword as tall as you are with one hand?! Human history is pretty epic."
"W-well, I guess it is when you p-put it t-that way," Alphys replied, not wanting to tell Undyne the truth.
Papyrus strutted through the door with Sans following close behind him. He was carrying a plate of what was supposed to look like pasta garnished with parsley and sloppily made meatballs.
"'Sup Frisk? My bro made you somethin'."
"Human! I, master chef Papyrus, know you will recover in no time once you eat this artfully made spaghetti! Feast your eyes and behold its glory! I was saving it for one of my brilliant traps, but this is a desperate situation!"
Frisk woke up, happy for the arrival of Sans and Papyrus.
"Hi," Frisk said, using most of his strength to speak.
"Hello Sans. Hello Papyrus. We have been waiting for you two to arrive," Toriel said, motioning them to come sit next to her and Frisk.
"Cool. I brought a small bag of crackers, if, ya know, Frisk can eat anything," Sans said, fishing it out from one of the pockets of his hoodie.
"What?! What about my spaghetti?!"
"Eh, I guess the crackers could be the appetizer. Bone-Appetit."
"Thanks," Frisk said, wanting to eat one cracker to please them.
Sans broke one of them in half and gave it to Frisk. When he tried to put it in his mouth, he fell into another harsh fit and involuntarily spat it out. He coughed for a solid five minutes before laying his head down on the lumpy pillow of the laboratory's only cot, and then zoned out. Several minutes passed as he continued to lie down. Toriel needed to wake him up so that he could get something to drink to prevent dehydration.
"I think water would be best for now, don't you think?" Toriel said, turning to Alphys. She was still watching Mew-Mew Kissy Cutie with Undyne.
"Alphys, dear, do you know where I may find some water for Frisk?" She asked again.
"There should be s-some in the f-fridge. I have several b-bottles," Alphys replied, finally turning away from the computer screen.
"Thank you, Alphys."
Toriel got up and grabbed a small bottle of water from the refrigerator and sat down next to Frisk.
"My child, here is some water. I hope it helps with your coughing."
He didn't respond.
"Heya Frisk, you good?" Sans asked.
Still no response.
"Frisk, you must wake up to try my delicious pasta! For I, the Great Papyrus, made it just for you!"
Still nothing.
Toriel sensed something was very wrong; she had experienced this before with Chara when he also fell deathly ill. She took Frisk's hands; they were completely limp, and he didn't respond to her touching him.
"Frisk? FRISK!"
In her panic, she tried to gently shake him awake; his head rolled from side to side, his mouth and eyes still slightly open.
"Alphys! Come over here! We need help!" Toriel shouted.
Alphys ran from the computer to Frisk and checked his pulse. Undyne, hearing the commotion, went with her.
"Oh. My g-god."
"Please help! Do something!" Toriel pleaded, hoping beyond hope that it would end up okay. But in her heart, she already knew what was happening.
"…I'm s-sorry."
"Just try! Save my child!"
"I checked his p-pulse, and f-from what I c-can tell…" Alphys paused, not wanting to finish the sentence, but she knew she had to.
"Frisk has been d-dead for ten minutes."
Alphys pulled the sheet over Frisk's face, covering his body. She turned to Undyne, and Undyne pulled her in for a close embrace.
"Come on Alphys," she said, "You did great."
Papyrus fell uncharacteristically silent for a while. He put down his plate of spaghetti and took something out of his pocket to give to Toriel.
It was the tub of the magic clay.
A few weeks later, after Sans's brief, sad visit with Toriel and Asgore, Sans took home two leftover slices of butterscotch cinnamon pie for himself and Papyrus. He sauntered through the door of his house and stood behind their couch.
"'Sup, bro? You alright?"
Papyrus listlessly flipped through all the TV channels on his remote trying to find something, anything, to get his mind off of Frisk, but he couldn't find any shows to meet his standards. He eventually just turned it off and sat on the couch zoning out, doing nothing.
"Paps?"
Sans had seen his brother down before, but never like this. It was incredibly strange to him that Papyrus had become so emotionally invested in Frisk, but, looking back, he could easily see why. Frisk was one of the few people outside of himself and Undyne that not only understood him, but embraced him for his weirdness and who he was. It was funny how much such simple acts of kindness could affect people to that degree. Sans didn't want to admit it to himself, but he felt the weight of Frisk's death just as heavily as Papyrus.
"Papyrus," Sans said, shaking him on his shoulder.
"What—wait—where did you come from? Did you use another shortcut?"
"Nah, I've been here the whole time. I've been trying to get your attention."
"Don't sneak up on me like that! You know how much your shortcuts bug me!"
Sans didn't bother to correct him.
"I was just seein' if you wanted some of this pie, cuz, uh, Asgore made it and wanted to share some with us."
"Oh, that's nice," Papyrus replied, unenthused.
Sans took out two paper towels and put the pies on each one. Despite being severely despondent about Frisk's death, Papyrus ate all of it. Sans put his pie back in the refrigerator to save for later.
"That pie is almost as great as I am."
"Yeah, I knew you'd like it. It's one of Asgore's recipes."
They sat in silence on the couch for a little bit. Sans put his hand on Papyrus's shoulder.
"Hey, uh…Toriel really appreciated you…giving that to her."
"W-well, of course! My gifts are the most thoughtful, and impeccably crafted, and of course she would love it, because I'm the best at giving, and I'm the best possible friend, and I knew I had to help because most people aren't as great as I am, and—and…and…"
Papyrus broke down, sobbing. Sans hugged him.
"C'mon, it'll be alright."
"Why couldn't I help? I'm the best at helping! Why didn't it work?"
"You did everything right. Nothin' coulda been done about it."
Papyrus couldn't speak anymore due to the heavy chest-wracking sobs that wouldn't stop. Sans pulled him in tighter as they sat on the couch, patting his head.
"You'll be okay. We'll both be okay. We're gonna get outta this on the other side, I promise."