PART TWO
CHAPTER ELEVEN:
"Come on, Papyrus! Put some energy into it!" Undyne goaded as he stirred the pasta sauce.
"Nyeh! I'm going as fast as I can!"
"Do it faster! These ingredients are your worst enemies! Beat them into the ground!"
Undyne cooked with him, smashing whole cloves of garlic and adding them to the saucepan. Things that once looked like tomatoes, olive oil, parmesan cheese, basil, ground beef, and oregano were also haphazardly thrown into the mix. The mess was so fantastically bad that it hardly looked like anything anyone had ever seen before.
"NGHAA!" Undyne shouted as she ripped open a box of angel hair pasta, tossing the whole thing, box and all, into a pot of boiling water.
"Don't forget the side dish, Papyrus!"
"What was it again?"
"The salad! Tear those greens into shreds!"
Papyrus put down the pan of pasta sauce and ripped the romaine lettuce with his hands, which he put in a separate bowl. Onions, cucumbers, more tomatoes, feta cheese, and olives were also somehow ripped by hand and put into the bowl.
"Now, back to the sauce!"
"Right?"
"RIGHT!"
Papyrus put the saucepan onto the stove which Undyne smashed with a spear, splashing sauce everywhere. Some of it got on her face and clothes.
"Do you want me to pour in the pasta?"
"Fuck yeah! Pour in the goddamn pasta!"
Papyrus poured all the contents of the pot of pasta into the saucepan. Undyne stirred it as quickly as she could until the dish was finished.
"Hah!" Undyne looked at her jumbled kitchen, completely splattered with the sauce, salad, pasta, and the leftover remnants of the boiling water.
"Nice work, Papyrus! Today's lesson was very productive."
"Thanks, Undyne. I'm very great at learning."
"Of course you are! Time to eat up!"
They served themselves plates of the "food" and sat down at Undyne's table. While Undyne wolfed hers down, Papyrus hardly touched any of his.
"Come on, Papyrus. Aren't you hungry?"
"…I made him this spaghetti…he didn't touch it…"
"Oh no, this again," Undyne thought.
"Yeah, we can't do anything about that now. It looked good though."
He sighed and put his head down on the table.
"I don't get it, Undyne. I'm the best at just about everything. But I can't stop thinking about him. How is it that someone as great and incredible as me can't just move past this already? It makes me feel…like I'm somehow less than amazing."
Undyne stopped to think about what to say. Then she came up with an idea.
"Hey Papyrus, let me show you something," she said, getting up from the table, motioning him to come with her.
They went outside of her house where her beat-up training dummy was; behind the dummy was small, red photo album. She picked it up and handed it to Papyrus.
"What's this thing?"
"Open it."
Papyrus flipped to a random page of the book. He saw photos of people he didn't know, all in Royal Guard attire. Asgore was standing in front of them in a full salute.
"Undyne, who are they? Do you know them?"
"These were the Royal Guards from before I was captain, let alone even in the guard. They fought in the war between the humans and us. I wasn't even born then."
"Then, why do you have their pictures?"
"Asgore gave me this photo album, as a gift for when I became captain. Do you want to know why he gave it to me?"
"Yes! Please tell me."
Undyne formed a tiny spear and started to fidget with it.
"Because all of the people in this photo album, they're dead. All of them died in the war except for Asgore."
"What?! Why would he give that to you?!"
"Well," Undyne said, turning away to form a spear and polish it, "He told me that all of those people meant a lot to him. He wanted me to have it as a reminder of the people who came before me, but the most important thing he said was this." She turned back to face Papyrus.
"'Whenever you lose someone dear to you, the most important thing you can do for their legacy is to do things that would make them proud of you.'"
Papyrus sat down, mulling it over.
"And you know what else he said?" Undyne sat down next to him.
"He said that you don't just 'get over' people. They're like, a new part of you, or something. Damn, I can't remember all of it. But that's the gist of what he told me."
Papyrus stared at nothing, trying to process what she said.
"Well," he finally said, "Frisk would be proud of me. I'm not the Great Papyrus for nothing."
"Hell yeah, you are! You're already making that wimpy nerd proud!" Undyne slapped him on the back.
"Now let's clean up my house for next week's lesson! You ready?"
"Already ahead of you," he said, walking back towards the door.
CHAPTER TWELVE:
Sans sat by the door to the Ruins again, prepared with a new slew of jokes he knew Toriel would enjoy. He knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked again. This time, he thought he heard some faint coughing and sniffling from the other side.
"Pardon me, Sans," Toriel said, "I have been greatly enjoying your company during this difficult time. I think I have come down with some allergies from the golden flowers, though this has not happened before."
"Huh. Never thought you'd be the type to get hay-fever."
"I did not think so either," she replied.
"Welp, anyways, wanna hear some knock-knock jokes?"
"That would be lovely."
"Okay, knock-knock."
"W-w-who's t-there?" Toriel stuttered through her coughs.
Sans couldn't think of anything to say because he was distracted by the coughing fit, but he tried to salvage a good joke despite this.
"Um, P."
"P who?" Toriel wheezed.
"Hey, don't tell me I stink, that's rude."
Toriel snickered, but kept sneezing and hacking with every breath she took.
"Geez, you sure you don't just have a cold or something?" Sans asked.
"Maybe I do. I have not been feeling well the past few days."
"That sucks. Maybe Papyrus and I could come over and read you a book or something," Sans said, half joking.
"I would love your company, Sans," Toriel said, "But I do not want you to fall ill."
"Well, we didn't get sick when we stayed with Frisk," Sans replied. Those last words filled him with an unusual amount of pain.
Toriel fell silent, minus the constant hacking and sniffling.
"Heh…" Sans said, scootching away from the door slightly and putting his head down in his hands, "Sorry for the reminder."
"It is not something that can be denied," Toriel said, putting her hand towards her side of the door, "So there's no need to apologize."
"Yeah, uh, it's just been on my mind lately," Sans said, perking his head up a little bit, "But mostly because Papyrus is still, well, not quite himself yet, ya know? He's trying to be brave, but I know it's just a front. So, uh, yeah. That's basically what's been happenin'. Sucks to see him like this."
"Perhaps," Toriel paused to cough, "We could all visit each other. You and Papyrus can come to the Ruins anytime you would like, and if you are willing to have me come over, I would love to visit you two in Snowdin as well."
"Didn't ya just say you didn't want me to get sick or somethin'?"
"Speaking from my previous experience, isolation is terrible for grief."
"Wait, so you lost kids before this?"
Toriel leaned her body against the door.
"Yes…" She stroked her fluffy ears.
"Sans, do you know why Asgore and I have been apart for so long?"
"Uh, well, you never said anything about it till right now, so no."
Toriel took a deep breath.
"I used to have a son. Well, two sons. One of them was a human child Asgore and I have welcomed into our home, after he had been abandoned and fell into the Underground. Their names were Asriel and Chara."
"They became best friends. Asriel was a very lonely boy, but he was often too shy to interact with his peers. It was so lovely to see him have such a close bond with a child his own age, despite the fact that Chara was a human. Then Chara…he fell ill. Just like Frisk. To this day I still don't know how it happened. When he died…" She paused to cough some more.
"When he died, Asriel absorbed his soul. He crossed the barrier with Chara's body. And the humans, they killed him. They killed him because they thought Asriel had killed Chara. Asriel's dust scattered across Asgore's garden in his throne room when he managed to return home."
Sans turned his face to the door.
"They say that couples who lose children are very likely to divorce. I loved Asgore so much, but he was completely consumed with anger and bitterness. He wanted to do nothing but enact revenge. I completely understand how he felt. I was angry too, but never to that degree. In the end, he became much worse than the humans who killed Asriel. I tried so hard to reason with him, but he was having none of it. I remember the intense fights where one, or both of us, ended up in tears. I remember how much I begged him to stop his acts of violence. I remember the days he looked at me with guilt and shame in his eyes for what he was doing, but he STILL would not listen to what I had to say. As the king, Asgore had the upper hand as the leader, and when I tried to sway the others to be kind and show mercy, it was met with harsh protest from everyone. I had to leave. I never wanted to, but I had to. And I was left to deal with the grief of not only losing my children, but also my husband, here, alone in the Ruins."
"Dang," Sans replied, not knowing what to say.
"But Sans," Toriel said, coughing, "You are a great friend. I have not told anyone else about this. It has been many years since the day my children died, but I cannot forgive him for what he has done and is continuing to do. You have been so kind and understanding. I cannot describe in words how much I appreciate you."
"Eh, forget about it. It's no biggie," Sans said, trying to hide how deeply moved he was by her words.
"No, Sans. I will not forget. You're a good man. Please do not undermine that. Promise me this, will you not?"
Sans wanted to say something else, but couldn't find the courage to say it.
"…Sure thing. I'll be seeing ya."
"Goodbye," Toriel said, stifling her coughs.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Sans and Papyrus went to visit Toriel again in the Ruins. Sans sat by the fire warming his hands while Papyrus read the day's horoscope, trying his best to figure out how to solve it:
"As a Leo, you're ruled by the ever-shining, life-giving sun. Today's skies find the sun locked into a stifling aspect with realistic Saturn, prompting melancholic moods and pessimistic outlooks. Rather than succumb to feeling blocked, take this opportunity to examine what's hindering forward movement on the career front. Messenger Mercury dips into chatty Gemini too, helping you better tune into your aspirations." 1
"Sans, what kind of code is this? I'm confused as to what 'messenger Mercury dips into chatty Gemini' could mean. But, with your help and my already genius mind, I'm sure I can solve this conundrum in no time!"
"Sure thing, Paps," Sans said, taking the paper. He gave it back to Papyrus after reading it for a little bit.
"Can't say I know what it means."
Papyrus groaned.
Toriel walked into the room with a large bowl of steaming snails, deshelled, fresh from the pot.
"Would any of you like some of these? I'm afraid I made too many for me to eat by myself," Toriel said, obviously making the snails for everyone.
Sans shrugged. Couldn't hurt to try something new.
"Eh, sure, thanks," he said, popping one into his mouth.
He was surprised by the texture and taste; they tasted and felt like mushrooms, but meatier.
"Kinda interesting, never thought they'd taste like that. They're pretty good."
"Thank you, Sans. What about you, Papyrus?"
Papyrus stared at the horoscope, completely fixated on solving it. He scribbled down some notes on the margins of the newspaper, ready to figure out and crack the code.
"Hah! I think I've got it," Papyrus exclaimed, "'Messenger Mercury' is actually code for 'Mistress Macaroni,' and she 'dips into chatty Gemini' because 'Gemini' is Latin for 'cheese'! So! This is a brilliant, masterful code for how to make macaroni and cheese! You dip the pasta in the cheese, and voila! There you have it!"
Toriel looked back and forth between Sans and Papyrus, perplexed.
"Eh, I just humor him," Sans whispered to her. Then he turned to Papyrus.
"Nice work. Never coulda figured that out by myself."
"NYEHEHE! The Great Papyrus is yet again victorious!"
"That's wonderful, dear." Toriel picked up some snails with her fingers and delicately placed them in her mouth to eat them.
"Hey Tori, wanna play a board game?"
"Hmm…I do not know what games I have in my house." Toriel then searched for some games to play, but she only found one board game: Candy Land.
"I do not have any other options, but," she said while taking it out, "This is something I used to play all the time."
Sans and Papyrus had never seen that game before, but by the looks of it, they could tell that it was meant for children. Sans gave a knowing nod.
"Looks like fun," Sans said, "I'm in."
"Nice! A land of candy is fitting for The Great Papyrus!"
"That's wonderful, I'm glad you both want to join me."
Toriel explained the rules of the game to Sans and Papyrus. They each picked out a playing piece in the shape of gingerbread men; Toriel chose yellow, Sans chose blue, and Papyrus chose red. They each drew the cards of the game to move across the board; Papyrus was winning until he got stuck at the Molasses Swamp.
"Heheh, can't go till you pick red," Sans snickered.
"I have not been bested yet, for I, the Great Papyrus, know that I will draw a red card on my next turn!"
He picked up a card: green. Next turn: yellow. Turn after that: blue. Turn after that: Lollipop Forest. Turn after that: Licorice Castle. Turn after that: blue again. Turn after that: yellow again. Turn after that: green again. Turn after that…
"Sans!" Papyrus said, noticing some cards underneath his hands, "Play fair!"
Sans continued to stifle his laughs, then Toriel shot him a disappointed look.
"Papyrus is right," Toriel said, lifting his hands off of the cards, "Playing games is no fun when people cheat."
"Eh, c'mon, I was just jokin'," Sans mumbled, putting the cards back into the deck and reshuffling it.
After they restarted the game and played fairly, Toriel ended up winning two times in a row.
"It has been wonderful to have both of you for company," Toriel said, coughing a little bit. Then she coughed some more, and couldn't stop.
She went into an intense fit. As she hacked, shining dust flew out of her mouth and onto her hands. She collapsed on the floor.
"Oh my god! What the hell?!" Papyrus shouted.
"Papyrus!" Sans yelled to him, "Get Alphys over here!"
Toriel wouldn't stop coughing, and the more she coughed, the more dust flew out of her mouth. She could hardly catch her breath, and when she did, she only briefly gasped before hacking harder.
"I don't have her number, Sans!"
"Then call Undyne! She'll have it!"
Papyrus dialed her number in his cellphone as quickly as his gloved hands could muster.
"Hey Papyrus," Undyne said, "What's up?"
"Undyne, please call Alphys! It's an emergency and Toriel won't stop coughing and she's coughing dust and Sans told me to call you and I'm not great enough to solve this by myself and we're in the Ruins and—"
"Stay where you are. Don't leave her side. We're coming right now." She hung up the phone.
Toriel was wheeled to Alphys's lab in Hot Land via one of the only stretchers available. Undyne pushed it as fast and hard as she could, not minding the bumps and curves of the road, with protest from Alphys. Toriel was strapped down to prevent her from falling out, and she was still coughing and wheezing out dust.
Sans and Papyrus were already waiting for them in the lab; they had taken one of Sans's shortcuts to get there. Papyrus paced furiously around the room while Sans tried to calm him down.
"Papyrus, you just gotta breathe, come on, like this," Sans said, trying to take deep, relaxing breaths.
"Good god Sans! She's not breathing, she's not breathing and she's coughing and she won't stop! Why won't it stop, Sans?! I can't make it stop!"
"You don't have to, you just gotta get grounded, name five things you can see."
"I see Toriel, and— WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH HER HAND?!"
When they arrived, Toriel's left hand had disintegrated into a fine powder, and her whole arm was starting to dissolve as well. Alphys immediately got out one of her old unused tonics she was going to use on Frisk and gave it to Toriel. It phased right through her, and a puddle of the liquid dripped down from the stretcher. The more she continued to gasp for air, the more she disintegrated into a dusty pile. Sans held her right hand, which had not turned to dust yet. She squeezed it back as firmly as she could grasp it.
Toriel wanted to speak to them, but couldn't get a word in before coughing out more and more dust. Alphys, in her panic, frenziedly searched for anything that could possibly help, but she was fresh out of resources; the tonic that was given to her was the last one that she had, and Alphys didn't have any more ingredients to make another. But even if she did, they would have gone straight through Toriel as she continued to literally fall apart. Eventually, there was nothing left of her; the dust that was once her right hand went through Sans's hand. The stretcher was filled with nothing but shining white powder. Her soul dissipated into thin air.
Papyrus, Undyne, and Alphys all saw what happened. Papyrus was curled up in a fetal position and wouldn't stop screaming. Sans stood frozen by the stretcher, not moving an inch except to occasionally blink.
"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL?! WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?! OH GOD NO!" Papyrus screamed over and over, horrified.
Alphys swallowed her fear and frustration as she collected Toriel's dust as calmly as she could. She needed to analyze it for any pathogens that might be in there, as nobody knew how in the world Toriel had died.
"I'm going to l-l-look at this more c-closely," Alphys said, putting the dust into a large jar, "This analysis will t-t-take a w-while. I…I need time to f-focus."
Sans took a small handful of the remaining dust and put it in his pocket before using one of his shortcuts to go home. Undyne carried Papyryus out of the lab, then Alphys set to work.
She went downstairs to the true lab, where her previous failed experiments resided.
"I'm not going to let them down," Alphys thought.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
Sans couldn't remember how long Toriel had been gone. All time seemed to stop and rapidly move at the same time. He went by the door to the Ruins to prepare some knock-knock jokes, but the sad realization of her not being there anymore filled him with despair. When he left the door to go back to his station, Papyrus was there, waiting for him.
"Sans," Papyrus asked, "Are you okay?"
Sans shrugged.
"Eh, forget about it. I'm actually gonna do work today, see?"
Papyrus frowned.
"I mean, that's good, I want you to do your job but—"
"Then 'but' nothin'. I'm doin' my job, like ya asked. Capiche?"
"Sans, I am the best of all possible friends and brothers! Tell me what's going on!"
Sans brushed off his comment with a peace sign.
"Don'tcha need to be at your station? You're a sentry too, ya know."
"Right…" Papyrus walked away.
Sans sat at his station doing crosswords and just generally nothing before he began to get consumed by his thoughts:
"Heheh, can't go till you pick red."
"I have not been bested yet, for I, the Great Papyrus, know that I will draw a red card on my next turn!"
"Sans! Play fair!"
"Papyrus is right. Playing games is no fun when people cheat."
"Ah, screw this," he said to himself. "I'm going to Grillby's."
He used one of his shortcuts to bypass his brother's station and arrived at the bar. He walked inside and took a seat.
"Hey Sans," Grillby said, "It's been a while. You getting a burger or fries?"
"Actually," Sans said, looking at the drink menu, "What do ya got on your taps?"
"Well," Grillby replied, taking a look at it, "We got IPAs, Stout, Lager, Barley wine, Pilsners, and Porters. We don't have any of the fancy human stuff they have up there, but it's still something."
"Hmm…" Sans spied large bottles of whiskey in the liquor cabinet. "What kinda liquor do ya got?"
"We've got several options for that, more than the beer to be honest." Grillby went over the options they had on the liquor menu, but it was an information overload.
"Ya know what? Surprise me. I'm open to anythin'."
Grillby poured a shot of their finest whiskey into a glass. Sans immediately gulped it down.
"Wow, shit's potent. Can I get another?"
"Sure," he said, getting another glass ready. As soon as he handed him the glass, Sans chugged it.
"Hmm, tastes good. Ya got any more?"
"Yeah," Grillby said, pouring him another drink. Sans asked for a fourth shot, which he immediately drank.
Sans started to get dizzy, but the instability felt relaxing and nice.
"Heh, that's—that's just the warm-up. Can I get a full glass?"
"Sans, you need to slow down. Have some fries or something."
"Ey', uh, ya know, isn't the customer always right? And ain't I your best damn customer?"
Grillby looked on, concerned, but did as he was told. He poured a full glass of the whiskey into a taller glass, on the rocks.
Sans drank it slightly slower, but only because there was more in there than in the shots. In the end, he still basically gulped it like water.
"'Ey, uhm, well, ya know, ya know about stuff? Like, uh, THINGS and stuff?"
"Can't say I do…" Grillby replied, not following where the conversation was going.
"Pfft. Forget it. Ya damn doof! You're-you're just a-a—a chicken! Shut up!"
"Okay, that's enough for today," Grillby said, putting away the bottle.
Sans laughed, then immediately glowered at him.
"I didn't say stop, goddammit!"
"No. Enough."
"Do, do, do any of you guys see this?! This fuckin' bullshit?! This waiter won't serve me! At a goddamn restaurant!"
"Sans, please—"
"Man, you're just—you're just acting like I'm spooky scary, just cuz I'm a skeleton, right?! That's discrimination!"
Sans got off the bar stool and swaggered on the ground. He could hardly keep his balance, but managed to stay on his feet.
"Hehehehe, you'd be bankrupt without me, ya know."
Grillby ignored his comment and tried to gently lead him out of the bar.
"Don't touch me, motherfucker, get out!"
Sans tried to push back, but only ended up falling flat on his face. This time he could not get up.
"Oh, crap," Grillby said. He tried to remember Sans's home phone number from the multiple orders he would get as takeout. He saw it pinned onto the corkboard underneath the cash register.
He dialed the number and Papyrus immediately answered the phone.
"Hello, Great Papyrus speaking, yes?"
"Hey, you're Sans's brother, right?"
"Of course! I am his best brother!"
"Yes, about that…" Grillby tried to think of a way to give the news gently to him.
"Sans had a little too much to drink today, and, well, he kind of needs your help."
"Shut up! I don't need any fuckin' help!" Sans slurred, face still on the floor. Grillby ignored him.
"Oh my god! Is he okay?"
"Yes, but please come get him. He's starting to disturb other customers."
Sans woke up the next morning, hungover, on the couch. Papyrus was standing over him.
"Eh, what are ya doin' there?"
"Oh, thank GOD you woke up! What were you doing?!"
"Oh god. What WAS I doing?" Sans thought. He couldn't remember anything past using his shortcut to go to Grillby's. This forgetting…it would serve him well.
"I, uh, I dunno…"
"What do you mean you don't know?!"
"I just told ya. I dunno."
"Ugh, never mind!" Papyrus started to drag Sans off the couch.
"Aw, c'mon Paps, just a couple more minutes…"
"No more wasting time! We have a job to do! And I'm not going to let you throw the day away!"
Papyrus marched Sans over to his station before returning to his own. Sans was left alone with his thoughts:
"Knock-knock."
"Who's there?"
"Banana."
"Banana who?" …
"Knock-knock."
"Who's there?"
"Orange."
"Orange who?"
"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?"
We both laughed, hard
"Eh," Sans said, leaving his station, "Maybe I'll go grab a burger or somethin'."
Sans used a shortcut to bypass his brother again. When he arrived, Grillby looked at Sans, worried.
"Sans, it's good to see you again. I don't normally tolerate that kind of behavior from any of my other customers, but I'm sure that was just a fluke. It happens," Grillby said, washing some dishes. There were no other customers in the bar.
Sans realized that whatever he did was probably shitty, but he brushed it off. Nothing like a nice shot of whiskey to clear his head. Sans looked at the drink menu again.
"Yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that. Can ya trust me to have those shots? They were pretty good."
"Sure thing. Just don't get carried away again," Grillby said, pouring out the liquor in one shot glass.
Sans considered listening to Grillby's advice, but another thought came up:
"Wow, I didn't know playdough could do that!"
"Yeah kid, haven't you ever heard of magic clay before?"
Sans saw a vision of Frisk squishing the magic clay, fascinated…
"Ah, crap," Sans said, quickly downing it like he did yesterday.
"What? What's wrong, Sans?"
"Don't stop now, I'm just gettin' started."
"Um, alright…" Grillby said, pouring out another shot.
Sans asked for one more. Then two more. Then two more again. Sans became much drunker than he was yesterday.
"Ey—'ey, ya know, ya know about kids? And kids? They do things, like, uh, they-they do things like, have you ever heard of magic clay?"
"I mean, I think, everyone knows what that is…"
"Fuck off! No—no ya don't! That's—that's, that's some real special…" Sans paused to belch, "Feel good shit. It-it…it warms your goddamn soul, ya stupid motherfucker."
Grillby looked at him, not knowing what he should say next. Sans saw some orange bitters in the liquor cabinet.
"And oranges!" Sans shouted. "Oranges, they don't know they're not bananas, like, have you ever been glad when-when—when 'orange you glad I'm not a banana'?" Sans laughed at his non-joke.
Grillby didn't respond; he only looked at him, getting more confused.
"Ya don't fuckin' get it, do ya?!"
"Uh…can't…say, I do…"
"Gimme another shot, then you'll understan'!"
"That's not a good idea. You've already had too much."
"The hell with that dumbass logic! My jokes aren't stupid! You're stupid!" Sans staggered on his bar stool.
Another customer walked into the bar and sat down near Sans. Grillby served them some soft drinks and took down their order.
"Man—man, you see this? You're not payin' attention to me! Dude-dude, ya…ya fuckin' suck! Can't even get me some more shots!"
Grillby ignored him and his comments.
"Come on—let's fight about it, I, I, I know-I know how to give ya a bad time!"
Sans tried to form a bone attack, but ended up falling off the stool instead. He managed to get up on his feet, but staggered the whole time.
"I'm a goddamn warrior, ya know! I'm agile! I can dodge anythin'!"
Sans tried to take a step towards the bar table, but tripped on his own foot and landed on the floor again. He groaned. Grillby called Papyrus.
"Hello, Great Papyrus speaking!"
"Hey, it's me again, can you come get your brother?"
"What? Why?!"
"Um…he's a bit drunk. Again."
Papyrus sighed.
"I'll be right over."
Sans woke up on the couch again, with another hangover. Papyrus was there waiting for him to wake up again as well, but this time he glared at him.
"Uh…" Sans looked at him, confused, "You look mad."
"Of course I'm angry, Sans! Do you have any idea what you did?!"
"Uh, no…"
"You—you said, when I was hauling you away, you said that I was too stupid to ever be a part of the Royal Guard!"
Oh. Shit.
"Papyrus, you know I'd never mean that."
"THEN WHY DID YOU SAY IT?!"
"I…don't…remember…"
Papyrus stared daggers. Then his gaze softened.
"Sans! This is not like your normal self! And I, the Great Papyrus, am determined to know what is troubling you! You must tell me right now!"
Sans dodged the question with another indirect answer.
"Eh, ya know, I'm just pluggin' away at my job, right?"
"NO, YOU'RE NOT. YOU'RE SLACKING OFF MORE THAN EVER!"
"Heh, haven't I always done that?"
"Oh my god Sans, STOP! Go to your station!"
Papyrus flounced off in a rage, leaving Sans alone to go to there by himself.
"Dang, I really messed up this time," Sans thought, looking down at the ground as he walked.
He tried doing some crosswords.
"When a monster dies, it is _" "Answer: Fallen Down."
Toriel just fell down. Don't remember when. Don't even know why.
Don't know what happened to Frisk, either.
Papyrus gave Toriel the magic clay. She loved him for that.
My god, those screams when she—
"Welp," Sans said, cracking his fingers, "Maybe I'll get some fries." He paused.
Sans stopped himself from going to Grillby's. He knew how much Papyrus had been hurt by his words, words he didn't even remember saying.
"I guess some tea would work from the store…"
"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!"
Papyrus. Papyrus could be next. And it will be all your fault.
"Whatever. I hope they sell some good beer," Sans said, using another shortcut.
Sans appeared in front of the shop bunny's store, looking desperate.
"Hey Sans, you looking for something?"
"Yeah, uh, I was wonderin', what kind of drinks do ya got?"
"Well, we have water bottles, soda, tea, chocolate milk—"
"No, not that. The other stuff."
"Well, we do sell some vodka and pale ale, if that's what you're referring to."
"Good. How big does the vodka get?"
"We've only got half liters or liters. Nothing in between."
"Thanks, uh, I'll buy the liters then. Two please."
Sans handed her the money, and she gave him the bottles. She noticed that he started to open a bottle, drinking directly from it. Sans saw that she saw him.
"Don't worry. I'm not gonna drink the whole thing in one sitting."
As he kept walking, he also kept drinking. By the time he was almost at his station, he was already staggering.
Sans slumped against one of the walls of his station, determined to not drink all of it.
"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL?! WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?! OH GOD NO!"
"Papyrus, you just gotta breathe, like this…"
She disintegrated. She disintegrated into my hands. She disintegrated into my hands and I didn't tell her how much I—
Sans stayed true to his word. He didn't drink it all, but he did drink about a fifth of it. Papyrus came down to Sans's station to check on him.
"Sans! Do you have anything new to report?"
"'Ey, uh—uh, yeah, reports? Well, ya know what reports, ya know what they are, right? I do work, like, lots of, skele-tons of it, ya know…" Sans laughed uncontrollably.
Papyrus glowered at him.
"What. Have You. Been Doing?"
"Shut up, ya-ya—ya don't know me, and-and—and ya ain't as great as ya think ya are, why ya gotta be so hyperactive all the goddamn time? Ya fuckin' freak."
Papyrus stared at him, shocked at what he was saying.
"Sans, are you even listening to yourself?! What is wrong with you?!"
"Pfft. What's wrong with you? You're like, you're like, so serious—why ya gotta be so serious, don't got any sense of humor, ya weirdo. Yeah, yeah—you're—you're weird, why ya so weird Papyrus?"
"You know what? FINE! Be a jerk, Sans!" Papyrus shouted as he flung his arms up with frustration. He stormed off, away from Sans's and his own station.
Sans woke up with another hangover, this time on the floor. Papyrus stood over him, looking down at him with intense anger.
"Get up. NOW."
"Aw, c'mon Paps, just a few more—"
"NO. I'M NOT DEALING WITH THIS TODAY."
Sans realized he might have done something wrong yesterday.
"What…did I…do?"
"What—oh my GOD Sans, are you SERIOUS right now?! You called me a freak! You said I wasn't as great as I think I am, which is objectively NOT true, you said I have no sense of humor, and you called me weird! Do you even know how much that hurts hearing from you, of all people?! What on earth has gotten into you?!"
God. Fucking. Dammit.
"Why, Sans? Please stop this. I want to help you. You need help! You haven't stopped drinking for a while now. Why do you keep doing that?"
Sans had no good way to answer that question without going into any details that would upset Papyrus. At least, upset him even more.
"…I'm going to my station…"
"DO. YOUR JOB. LIKE YOU SAID. YOU WOULD."
Sans groaned, then he slowly walked to his location. When he got there, he put his bottles of vodka and liquor down underneath the booth, where all his condiments and hot dog ingredients would have been. Sans looked at the bottles with desire and disgust. More unsettling thoughts entered his head:
Hey Tori, that's a cool dress. Haven't seen you wear that before.
Sans gulped down some vodka.
Heheh, the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. It's always funny.
He gulped down more.
Hey Tori, pull my finger.
Another swig.
Frisk, that ain't a word for kids to use.
I'm sorry, Tori. Frisk was a good kid.
Dishes a very bad joke.
Sans, what do you think of me?
Well, I think you're pretty darn great.
Tori, you mean a lot to me too—
Before he knew it, Sans had finished what was left of the bottle, which wasn't a lot, but definitely enough to get him drunk so he can attempt to make these memories fade. But no matter how much he drank, they wouldn't leave. If anything, they got stronger and more persistent as time passed.
"Dammit," Sans said to himself, "What the hell am I doing?"
CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
It had been about six months since the day Sans started to drink his problems away. Nothing could stop him from thinking about what he had done, and what he was doing. Well, no turning back now.
Sans staggered on his feet to Grillby's for another round of shots.
"Well, look who's back," Grillby said, irritated. This was Sans's third time coming to the bar that day.
"Shut up, don't judge me. I'M the judge around here," Sans said, already drunk.
"I'm not serving you if you're going to be belligerent again," Grillby replied, slowly getting more and more impatient. He sighed.
"The usual?"
"What, you don't fuckin' know me, man? Duh! Gimme your good shit!"
Grillby rolled his eyes when he turned around to pour the whiskey in three little shot glasses, shaped like dogs. Sans chugged all of them within a minute.
"Heh," Sans said as he swayed on the bar stool. "You—you don't…you don't know nothin'," Sans slammed his arms on the table, "NOTHIN', 'bout death, and people, a-and crazy shit that happens, and—and real life. Do, do you understan' life? DO you?"
"I understand more than you think," Grillby said, preparing himself for what will happen next.
"Cuz—cuz, well, ya know. I can predict things like, uh, real things! Ya know, uh—
those things where, where, they happen! I'll tell ya what's happenin' right now." Sans got off the stool and stood up. His balance was shaky and he almost fell down again.
"I-I can tell ya, I can tell ya the story. Ya know, the story of my friends—like, all of 'em."
"You're cut off. Don't ask for any more drinks today."
"Fuck you, man, man, you're just a-a fuckin', you're a fuckin'… 'flamin' homosexual." Sans laughed at his stupid pun.
Like the countless other times before, Grillby didn't react. He pretended that he said nothing when he called Papyrus yet again to drag him out of the bar.
"Hey Papyrus, your brother's here."
"Again?"
"Yep."
"Plastered?"
"You know the drill," Grillby said, then hung up the phone.
Papyrus walked in the door and dragged Sans out by the hood of his jacket. Sans tried to wriggle out and fight him, but he was so drunk that he only ended up aimlessly flailing his limbs.
"This is ridiculous," Papyrus muttered.
When they finally got home, Sans fell on the floor.
"Get up, Sans. How much did you drink today?!"
"Heheh, 'wooden', you like to know?"
"Sans, this is no time for puns! And that one didn't even make sense, you're on a carpet!"
"Goddammit. This is jus'—this is jus'…" Sans was too wasted to complete that thought.
"If you keep this up, I'm kicking you out!"
"How the hell will you do that? You don't pay the fuckin' rent."
"Then I'll live with Undyne, and YOU won't be allowed inside!"
"Pfft. Good luck with that."
"OF COURSE I WILL BE LUCKY! I HAVE THE MOST LUCK OUT OF EVERYONE!"
Papyrus stormed into his room and hastily packed a small suitcase of clothes and other belongings; he packed his action figures, Peekaboo with Fluffy Bunny, a cookbook, and his book on complex puzzle theory.
When Papyrus stomped down the stairs, Sans looked up.
"The hell you think you're doin'?"
"I said what I meant, and I meant what I said! I can't stand by and watch you destroy yourself anymore!"
With that, Papyrus slammed the door, suitcase in hand. The cold air of Snowdin cooled off his hot head from the shouting match they just had. He didn't want to take the river person's boat as he needed to walk for a while to collect his thoughts and calm down. He enjoyed the darkness of Waterfall and the beautiful, shining mushrooms and gems that lit his path. He almost changed his mind and wanted to go back, but didn't; this had happened way too many times for him to ignore it anymore.
He finally made it to Undyne's house, then knocked on her door. It was a little past midnight when he arrived. Despite this, Undyne came out, dressed in gross, stained, green pajamas.
"Papyrus…it's late…what are you doing—"
Papyrus pulled Undyne into a tight hug, resting his head on her shoulder, tears streaming down his eyes.
"Wait—what are you—what's this abou—" She stopped herself from asking the question. Papyrus had called her every night, venting about Sans.
"I can't…I can't make him stop."
"You did all you could. That's the most anyone can ask of you."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
"Ugh…"
Sans woke up from yet another hangover. He had no recollection of anything that happened the previous night. All he could remember was that Papyrus was yelling at him; he had no idea what he might have said, but he knew there was yelling involved. He got up and walked over to Papyrus's room. He knocked on the door.
"Heya," Sans said, "Hope you're not still mad at me."
No response.
"Look, I don't remember what happened last night, but I want you to know, uh, that I'm sorry."
No response.
Sans opened the door. No one was in there. Papyrus's action figures were missing, and Peekaboo with Fluffy Bunny and his book on complex puzzle theory were gone.
"…What?"
He tried calling him on his cellphone. He didn't pick up. There wasn't even room in the voicemail's inbox to receive any new messages.
"Papyrus?"
"Maybe he started his shift early or something," Sans thought, but it couldn't explain why some of his belongings weren't there.
Sans hung around his sentry station, waiting for him. Though his station used to be filled with bottles of ketchup, mustard, and relish for illegally selling hotdogs, these days it was mostly filled with flasks and multiple empty bottles of whisky and beer. He took out one of his bottles which was supposed to be filled with vodka. It was empty.
"Dammit."
Two hours passed. Then three. Then four. Papyrus never came to scold him for drinking on the job.
"Where the hell is he?"
Before he knew it, his shift was over. He went to Grillby's for his usual shots. When he got there, Grillby looked at him, furious.
"Heya," Sans said. He ignored him.
"You really made an ass of yourself last night, you know."
"Uh, was it that bad?"
"No. It was worse."
"Damn. Can I get the usual?"
Grillby shot him a glare.
"I feel personally responsible for this. I won't serve you any more drinks. You can either get a burger or get out."
"Sheesh, all I did was ask."
Sans looked around the bar. He was the first customer of the day, and the bar was empty except for himself and Grillby. Sans looked out the windows to see if Papyrus would be there. Still nothing.
"Hey, have you seen Papyrus? He hasn't been around today," Sans said, his concern growing.
"You don't remember? He's in Waterfall now. Said he couldn't see you destroy yourself, or something."
"Wait, what?"
"Yeah, I heard him yelling at you from my bar. He's got a pretty loud voice, you know."
"That's—that's gotta be some mistake—that can't be—"
"Nope. No mistakes made on his end," Grillby said, turning away from Sans, polishing his liquor cabinet glass.
Sans ran out of the bar to the river person's boat. They took him to Waterfall, and Sans spent hours searching for Undyne's house. He had no idea where she lived; he had never seen her home before.
He was just about to give up the search when he saw a strange fish shaped building; next to it was a horribly mutilated, beat-up training dummy with several spears sticking out from it.
"This must be it," he thought.
Sans knocked on her door, and Undyne swung it open. When she saw that it was Sans, she slammed it shut. He started to bang on the door.
"Undyne! C'mon! Ya gotta let me talk to 'im, just let me in for a bit, I swear, I won't bother ya—"
"You're already bothering me," she said from the other side. "Get the fuck out, or I'm going to kick your ass."
"Please, just tell me he's in there! C'mon, Undyne!"
"What, did you go deaf or something?! I said leave!"
"Undyne, I swear, I gotta talk to him, can you just let me in for a little—"
As promised, Undyne came out and swiftly punched him in the face, then slammed the door again. Sans fell on the ground from the force. When he picked himself up, he left to go back to the river person's boat, glancing back at her house several times as he walked away.
"Tralala. Where can I take you?"
"Just…take me home. To Snowdin."
"Come on, Undyne. You didn't have to do that."
"Yeah, but man," she said, cracking her knuckles, "It's unbelievable the nerve he has to treat you like this and expect everything to be hunky-dory. I don't let my friends get walked all over, and neither should you."
"…I suppose you are correct," Papyrus replied, sipping on golden flower tea.
"But, maybe, you can talk some sense into him? You know, because he won't listen to me."
"Papyrus, if he isn't willing to even listen to YOU, it's a surefire sign he's done and gone."
"I don't know that I would say that." Papyrus finished the tea. "But you're right that he's…different from how he was."
"You're damn right he is!" Undyne palmed her hands.
Papyrus looked out of her window at her training dummy.
"I don't think he's ever really, processed, what happened."
"What what happened?"
"You know," Papyrus said, rubbing his arm, "With Toriel."
Undyne's face fell.
"Oh…right. That."
Undyne and Papyrus served themselves another cup of plain golden flower tea, then sat down at the table.
"You know," Papyrus said, staring down at the mug, "Sans used to slack off by telling his lame puns to Toriel, at the door to the Ruins. He'd apparently been doing that almost every single day, from what she told me on one of our visits. They, well, they were best friends. Kind of like how you and I are best friends." Papyrus took a small sip.
"And Frisk, well, he wasn't as good of a friend to him as I was, but I know he misses him. He won't say it, or even admit it, but I know he hides it. He doesn't really tell people anything. I'm worried about him."
Papyrus stood up to pace around the tiny kitchen.
"And I'm much stronger and the absolute best at being an emotional support. I am the best of all possible brothers, but still, he hides everything from everyone. I didn't even know he was into science until I saw him with a telescope." He turned to face Undyne.
"His secrets: they're destroying him! I don't know why he keeps doing that!" Papyrus came to a realization.
"Maybe it's…because of…me."
Undyne furrowed her brows, deep in thought. She then came up with something.
"I know exactly who he needs to talk to."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Sans wanted only two things the most in the world: to drink, and not to drink. He lay on his mattress, hungover from another drunken night. Grillby wouldn't allow him to come into the bar anymore, so Sans resorted to buying liquor at their grocery store. The shop bunny thought he might have had a problem, but she had nothing to go on but her own instincts. But her instincts were very clearly correct, because she saw him come in almost every day for at least one new bottle of something.
Sans suddenly heard a knock on the door. It must have been Papyrus. Sans rushed down the stairs to greet him.
"Paps, you came—oh, uh, hello…"
It wasn't Papyrus. It was Asgore.
"Hello, Sans. Undyne and Papyrus have asked me to talk with you."
"Uh, they did?" Sans asked, getting nervous.
"Yes. Now, tell me, how long have you been having this problem?"
"Problem? I don't got any problems," Sans said, brushing off the question.
Asgore looked at Sans, disappointed.
"Do not lie to me, Sans. I know what you've been doing. They told me everything. This is why I'm here."
Asgore walked through the door of his house and went straight to the kitchen. Sans followed him inside.
"What is in your refrigerator?" he asked, pointing at it.
"Eh, not much, just some food and—"
"As the king, I can technically force you to open it. So please, do so."
Sans sighed, embarrassed. He opened the fridge; there was not much in there except for various bottles of beer, whiskey, and vodka, most of them empty.
Asgore found trash bags under the sink and put everything in the bag, throwing all of it away. He sat on the couch.
"Please, sit down Sans."
Sans sat down as far away from him as he could with the given space.
"I am not angry at you," Asgore said, "You have done many things that are wrong, but I understand what it is that has happened to you."
"What do you mean?" Sans said, perplexed.
"You have hit rock bottom, haven't you?"
"Uh…" Sans didn't want to answer the question, but both of them already knew the answer.
"I know that it's true. I've been there myself. In fact," Asgore twiddled his thumbs, "I'm still there."
"What? How? You're the king, aren't you?"
"Toriel must have told you, why we split?"
Sans looked down at his hands, which were crossed on his lap.
"Yeah, she did."
"That is why I am still at rock bottom," Asgore said, looking directly at Sans.
"I lost the only woman I've ever loved, due to my greed and bloodthirst…twice." Asgore crossed his hands.
"I've always said this, and I will say it again to you, because it is so important for you to hear: when you lose someone dear to you, the best thing you can do for their legacy is to do things that would make them proud of you. And with Toriel, I failed her so deeply that she died hating me to the very end. Nothing I do could make her less proud of me." Asgore scootched over, closer to Sans.
Sans put his head in his palms.
"But for you, Sans, it is not too late for you to turn around. Toriel was a dear friend to you, wasn't she?"
Asgore sat there, quietly waiting for Sans to respond.
"I…love her. So…much."
"We all do, Sans. She was so wonderful and kind."
"I just—I just can't stop—"
Asgore grabbed Sans by the shoulders. He finally perked up his head, looking into Asgore's eyes.
"I know you can. I know you want to. But when you feel like you can't, just remember: she was proud of the man you were. So were Papyrus and Undyne. They won't be around forever, so it is up to you to make them proud again. Live up to your old standards, Sans. You are worth so much more than you think." Asgore let go of his shoulders.
"Papyrus sees it in you, and so do I. You are deeply loved."
Sans looked down at the floor, staring at his feet.
"I…can't go back there. Not after what I did."
"Then I will go with you," Asgore said, standing up and reaching his hand out to him.
"Thanks," Sans said, following him out without any shortcuts.
Papyrus and Undyne were in the kitchen doing another cooking lesson. They were making lasagna, or, at least, a mockery of it as they smashed all the ingredients together into a chaotic mess. In the middle of it, they heard someone knocking at their door.
"Papyrus, can you get it? I'm cooking as fast as I can!" she yelled, throwing spears at multiple pots and pans.
"Sure thing!" he said. He opened the door. He was surprised to see Asgore standing there, but was even more surprised to see Sans.
"Sans?"
"What?! Sans is here?" Undyne immediately stopped what she was doing and came to the door. She looked down at him, giving him an evil eye.
"Sans, what are you doing? What do you want?" Papyrus asked. He then remembered what he and Undyne asked Asgore to do.
"How did it go with the king?"
Asgore gently pushed him forwards.
"I know," Sans said, staring at his feet, "I'm wrong. I'm sorry."
Papyrus rolled his eyes.
"You've said that before, Sans!"
Sans couldn't hold in his grief any longer: the grief for Frisk, the grief for Toriel, the grief of what he had done to destroy his brother and hurt him to his core, the grief of completely losing himself and who he used to be, the grief of basically losing everything he held dear in his life; all of it came crashing down.
"…Sans…?"
"P-Pap—" Sans couldn't finish what he wanted to say before breaking down, ugly crying and inconsolable. Papyrus had never seen Sans like that before, and he didn't know what to make of it.
Papyrus picked him up in a tight hug, lifting him off the ground. Papyrus finally got what he wanted from Sans: deep emotional honesty.
"You don't need to hide how you feel around anyone anymore, Sans," he said, pulling him in tighter, "I won't let you down on that. I promise."
1 . #Monday