Sans pov.

Sans couldn't sleep.

He was still slightly peeved Frisk had taken his drink away, as he was legitimately thirsty. He was, however, guilty for bringing op memory of Frisk's mother. Just the thought made him want to sink his teeth into something. He didn't have much to lose, but that woman had a child. Then again, humans from his knowledge had to worry about creating accidental children and unexpected pregnancies. Which was probably why there were and always would be far less monsters than humans.

Sans watched as Frisk's shoulders rose and fell softly. She had curled up into a ball of sorts with her blanket, tail curled around her legs. He noticed she seemed much more at peace here than she did even back home… probably because it was much quieter and wholesome here then at the rather wild skeleton house.

Sans scratched around his nose-hole, stretching his leg slightly. His knee was bothering him still. It was an uncomfortably deep, stiff, nagging ache that traveled up his leg and into his hip. Alphys had braced it enough and given him a shot of longer term painkiller to help drastically, but walking was a pain. Sans was slightly agitated that it would bother him his entire life. Yet another reason to not get out of bed… maybe Papyrus would cut him more breaks now.

Sans noticed with a pang he was getting more and more anxious. He couldn't hide his newfound nervousness and it drove him insane. How did Frisk put up with this? He knew Frisk was absolutely ridiculous when it came to any sort of assertive interaction with anything other than a rock, and if she felt this nervousness all the time she was a freaking god.

Maybe it was because of his deep fear of Chara.

He admitted silently to himself he wasn't entirely comfortable around Undyne yet, not until he was fully healed. He wouldn't be comfortable anywhere until he was fully healed. Problem: he would never fully heal. He felt horribly vulnerable. Especially now that Chara could be on his heels at any moment and he was lumbering around like a mentally incapable badger.

Sans rubbed at his shoulder blade before sitting up. He really was thirsty. He still knew where Asgore kept his (noticeably far expired) alcohol, but Sans didn't feel right doing that to Frisk.

Damn his feelings.

Sans rolled off the bed, grinding his teeth as his knee gave a sharp protest to the movement. He took a deep breath before hobbling towards the door.

He was also bothered by the fact he was no longer silent.

Too bad Chara didn't have to walk. She was a ghost. She could (presumably) float. So breaking her knee would do absolutely nothing other than provide a moments inconvenience. So sweet, sweet karma for him.

He remembered this place- or it's identical counterpart- almost exactly. He had forgotten that the other house had been built after this one to match it, but it was still rather… unsettling. The only time he had been here was for dark business.

Sans entered the kitchen and looked into the fridge, squeezing his eyes shut at the bright light.

"You're welcome to my refrigerator, little one."

Sans jumped at the deep voice, hitting his head off the top of the fridge.

Sans turned, rubbing the top of his skull.

"M'sorry, I'm real thirsty." He said rather diplomatically, though he knew he couldn't hide the annoyance in his tone.

"No, no, it was just a joke. You know I do not mind…" Asgore was trying so, so hard to keep up his friendly façade.

Sans grabbed a bottle of water and waved his hand.

"Don't need to hide anything now, Fluffy buns. The Frisky is asleep."

Asgore's smile wavered before finally falling.

"I hope you understand my… wariness, Sans. You are one of the last people I'd expect to… befriend a human. It's nothing other than concern for Frisk, my friend."

Sans leaned against the cool surface of the fridge while removing the top of the water bottle with a crack.

"Look, no offense taken. I get ya. I don't know what the hell happened. Let's say I left the doors open and somethin' unexpected got in. Your EX wife made me promise not to kill a human anyways, soooo… don't know if I love or hate her for it." Sans took a swig, trying to remain as calm as possible.

Asgore's forehead furrowed ever so slightly.

"Well, I'm glad she did. But I want to know Sans, can I trust you to not hurt Frisk? That's what I am most concerned about. You have a reputation for being rather… prone to baring your fangs."

Sans flinched a little at that and remembered huge green eyes full of tears and fear staring up at him in the dark.

"You can trust me not to do it consciously. I've grown too… bleh, care about the little turd a lot, y'know. Almost as much as I do Paps. Will I maybe by accident? It's a possibility. But everyone can hurt anyone and it's always a risk out there. You should know yourself." Sans forced himself to look into the king's clear blue eyes. "It's not a thing that can be avoided. And I have hurt her. And she's hurt me. But we got over it and we've both grown. That's what matters."

Since when have I started taking like a sap? Sans asked himself mentally. This time he wasn't dancing around the truth with words and smiles. Something about Asgore made him feel like it was fine to put down his swords for once. And, he wanted to be careful with Frisk's adoptive dad.

Asgore's mouth was a tight line, but he could see that the king realized the truth in his words.

"I understand, Sans. But. That doesn't mean that I will let it happen again."

"Sure." Sans took another swig to ease tension. He felt weak, and he could feel an uneasy tremble in his right arm.

"There's another thing I am concerned about. I-"

Asgore was cut off by a shrill screech that made Sans's bones turn cold.

Asgore jumped a little, his heavy body making a stomping sound.

Sans bolted out of the room, feeling his soul go haywire. His leg hurt so bad and he was half dragging it along, but he was more worried about what the hell just happened.

Asgore was quick behind, shouting.

"Frisk? Child? Is everything alright?"

When Sans got there, Frisk was crouched in the bed with her hands grasping at her head, ears held all the way back and chest heaving. Her eyes were wide and glassy, full of panic.

Sans entered the room slower, looking around. No one was here…

"Frisk? Hey, Frisky… what happened? Hey…" Sans reached the side of the bed and tried getting her attention, but she was locked, staring at the wall and whimpering slightly.

"What's wrong?" Asgore loomed over with immense concern.

Sans looked around again. There was no sign anyone was here.

"She's having a panic attack. I think she may have had a bad dream or something, or saw something that spooked her." Sans swallowed.

He touched her arm lightly. She cringed like she had been struck, causing him to pull his hand back suddenly.

"Frisk. It's me. Cm'on, calm down." Sans inched a little closer, feeling his soul worm with worry.

"Has this happened before, Sans?" Asgore asked, looking over his shoulder. He backed off a bit- smart.

"Yeah, not in awhile though." Sans put his fingers gently on her shoulder once more, not pulling back.

He gave her a soft shake.

"Frisk. Can you hear me?"

What if Chara did something to her? Sans wondered win a string of panic crawling up his spine.

He moved up onto the bed and sat, doing so painfully slow.

Frisk seemed to freeze for a moment and her ears twitched.

Sans inhaled deeply and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in to rest on his side.

Frisk stopped trembling.

"Hey, hear me now? You gotta breath… deep breaths, k?"

Frisk's glassy eyes shifted to his, and cleared slightly in recognition.

I need to talk to Alphys about this. It can't be healthy. Sans begone to stroke her back like he did last time, remembering how it calmed her down rather quickly. Odd. He couldn't imagine someone stroking his spine being that comforting.

Asgore looked on with worried eyes and a heavy frown.

Frisk began to calm slowly but surely. Her breathing had returned to pretty much normal but she looked pained in some way.

"Hey, you back?"

"….yeah…" Frisk sounded so tiny and unsure.

"Are you alright little one?" Asgore finally asked in his deep voice.

Frisk's head snapped up, also making Sans's soul jump a little.

She relaxed upon seeing Asgore's face.

"…I think…" Frisk rubbed at her eyes.

Sans rubbed his chin.

"What happened?" Sans really wanted to ask "was it Chara?" But he knew he would not be able to explain shit to Asgore.

Frisk seemed to mentally get his concern and blinked slowly.

"I… I had a nightmare, and… I don't know when I woke up or what really happened, I was just… scared… I'm sorry I woke you up…" Frisk shrunk a little.

"No harm done, We were both up already. I just caught Sans stealing some water from the fridge. Such a naughty boy." Asgore said lightheartedly, either to embarrass him or make Frisk smile. Or both.

Sans realized he had dropped the bottle of water in his rush. He hoped the cap was on.

"…" Frisk didn't reply, though she shot him a semi suspicious look.

Sans looked her in the eye to say "I wasn't doing anything bad again" without alerting Asgore.

"I'm guessing you don't wanna talk." Sans stated. A part of him added some resentment in that. If I spilled my guts, she should too. However, the thought faded away quickly. They were different. Frisk was responsible. He wasn't.

Frisk looked away.

"I couldn't even if I wanted to. I don't remember any of it."

"Oh."

Sans kept up the circles his hand was rubbing into her back, and she slumped a little, eyes slightly unfocused.

"Well, is there anything you need, Frisk?" Asgore asked. He looked a little bothered by something.

He wishes he could do more. Sans concluded.

"N-no…"

Sans stopped the rubbing momentarily to feel the tip of one of her ears. He was surprised she let him touch them earlier. He knew they were very sensitive.

They were chilly.

"You're cold." Sans observed.

You ain't getting away from me, Frisky Frisk.

Frisk shrunk a little more.

"Would you like to come out by the fireplace? I can relight it if you are cold." Asgore offered.

"…sure…"

"Hmmm." Asgore hummed before leaving with booming footsteps.

"… are you sure you're okay? You look hurt." Sans said once he had left.

"… I have a headache."

"Understandable." Sans laid on his stomach to reach the blankets which had been thrown aside and gather them up in his hands.

Frisk's tail wrapped tightly around her.

"It… it felt like my head was going to explode… and my heart too… I hate those…" Frisk moaned, rubbing her nose.

"I don't imagine panic attacks are very… fun. Speaking of which, I think we should talk to Al about these."

"You think? I don't have them very often…"

"You've had three, I think. And you don't have them very often, yes, but they may get to be more of an issue. And your breathing didn't sound too great. Kind of… wheezy." Sans chuckled dryly at the last word, thinking of the Pokémon.

"It's sounded like that since the surgery. Especially when I'm breathing really heavy." Frisk tilted her head.

"Has it?" Sans would have thought he'd notice, seeing as he was the one with the super hearing.

"Yeah. Listen close."

Sans leaned in and held his breath to hear better.

Indeed, there was a slight rasp to every stream of air her chest took in.

"… I don't like it."

"It's fine. I'm not in the mood for your protective behavior. Alphys gave me the okay."

Sans grumbled a little.

Frisk crawled out of the bed, and he noticed her legs were still shaking.

"Looks like you need my crutches more than I do." Sans commented.

Frisk smacked him lightly in the side of the head.

Sans shook himself and followed her out.

"You're walking with the speed of an 80 year old lady. Congrats." Sans smirked evilly.

"… if that's true then you walk with the speed of my dead grandfather 6 feet under."

"WHOA, FRISKY IS GETTIN' SAUCY!"

"You just yelled in my ear, asshat." Frisk growled.

"Look, I'm just trying to make you happy, okay?"

"Then don't be a hypocrite and compare my walking speed to yours because we all know you're just trying to make yourself feel better about it."

"You really are being a salty puppy." Sans muttered.

Asgore was looking at them curiously as they entered the room. Probably because of his yelling. Whoops.

"Well, the fire is started. If you'd like to sleep in my chair, you are very much welcome to." Asgore motioned to the chair.

Frisk looked around nervously, hugging herself.

"Go. To the chair." Sans demanded. Asgore did not seem to understand he was joking judging by the way his brow pinched together.

Frisk glared at him before slowly approaching the chair.

"If you need anything else, do not be afraid to ask, little one. Oh, and you are welcome to the kitchen." This time Asgore's face changed to an amused one as Sans's previous mistake was brought up.

Frisk nudged him slightly, and Sans looked downward in return.

The king left, looking over the two one last time before disappearing down the hall.

Sans gave Frisk a slight push.

"In the chair, fluffy."

"What if I want to sleep on the floor? Or back in the bed?" Frisk challenged. "You're supposed to be nice to me."

"Who said that?" Sans raised a browbone. "I don't see it written anywhere."

Frisk huffed and took her blankets forcefully from his arms before crawling into the chair, clicking the button that set the recliner out. Sans winced at the loud, sharp sound it made.

"It's called being a morally decent organism."

"Who's got time for that?" Sans decided he wanted to squeeze himself into the chair as well, and Frisk shot him a glance as he shoved himself beside her. The chair was rather plushy, and he felt himself sink into it. It also smelled like vanilla for some reason.

"Did I invite you?" Frisk asked.

"I invited myself."

"You are being so mean to me tonight. I just had a freaking panic attack and now you're taking my chair."

"I am not taking the entire chair. Haven't you heard sharing is caring?"

Frisk exhaled and shifted, resting her head on his chest.

Sans felt a familiar embarrassment prickle at his chest, but he pushed it away. It was only platonic. It wasn't weird. The closeness would do her good anyways. He had realized that Frisk, though she at first loathed the concept, very much liked contact. Actually, she was a pretty cuddly little piece of crap and Sans couldn't stand that he always had to be in the receiving end. But he loved it all the same.

This is the closest it's ever gonna be. Sans closed his eyes. So enjoy it while you can, Sansy.

Frisk shifted once more, bringing the blanket up to her chin. Sans pulled in the edge so it lightly covered him as well.

Sans stayed awake long after Frisk fell asleep, but eventually the heat and the crackling of the fire lulled him into rest.

…

The rest of their visit at Asgore's went by uneventfully. Sans was sure he had gained a tidbit of trust from the king, as he didn't glare at him every chance he got. Frisk seemed overall normal as well. She had a knack of quick recovery, something Sans could lack at points.

Especially since he fell on the way back to his house and hurt his knee. Again.

He had to lean on Frisk the rest of the way because it hurt so bad.

Papyrus wasn't home, thank the stars. So he could suffer in peace.

Frisk immediately went to take a nap, probably tired from last night. Sans lazed around on the other couch, too lazy to even turn the TV on.

He wanted to sleep all day.

Unfortunately, the door had other plans.

A series of loud, rough knocks made him jump and curse.

Sans hobbled over to the door, the stupid cat at his heels. Storm really didn't get it, did he?

"Hey! Open the damn door!" Undyne yelled.

Sans froze with his hand on the knob.

Should he?

Well, she'd break it down if he didn't, so…

Sans opened the door a crack, growling slightly.

"Something's fishy here. What ya want."

"Shut up. Open the door all the way."

Sans did so, regretting he ever opened the thing in the first place.

"Where's Frisk?"

"Sleeping. And you're not waking her up." Sans stood stubbornly in the doorway. The cold air hit his face.

Undyne rolled her eye.

"Whatever. I have something I need her to deliver to Alphys." Undyne pulled out a letter.

"Why does she have to do it? Do it yourself, fish bones." Sans leaned slightly on the doorframe, eyes half lidded.

"I…umm…" There was a hint of red on her blue cheeks. "Got… to do somethin… look, I'm not asking you, asshole! I'm asking Frisk! And I know she will do it."

"What's the letter?"

"If you open this I swear to god I will break every single one of your bones and throw you to the dogs in Blizzardland. So I suggest you don't."

Undyne threw the envelope in his face. It smelled like old paper and coconut.

"Give it to Frisk. I'm leaving. Goodbye." Undyne slammed the door in his face.

Storm mewed.

Sans pulled the envelope off and examined it.

It was shut do tightly you'd probably need a chainsaw to open it.

Sans wondered what the hell Undyne could want.

He then glanced behind him to the sleeping form of Frisk. Her tail and ears twitched slightly.

I'm not gonna make Frisk do shit. If she wants I'll do it. Then I can tell Paps I did something and then I can sleep. Sleep.

Sans pulled on his jacket and shoved the envelope unceremoniously into his pocket before leaving, the kitten following him out the door.

Sans looked down at the little gray poofball in the snow.

"Go back. I don't want you. Understand?"

Storm tilted his head.

Sans sighed and kicked some snow up with his slipper.

"Whatever. If you get eaten don't blame me."

Sans began walking to the entrance to Waterfall, where he would be able to teleport to Alphys's lab and deliver the letter Undyne was so adamant about.

Uh oh. Mistake, Sans. Big mistake.

Comycat~