Its early- just a little past four in the morning- far too early in Sans opinion, but there the older human is; trudging through the snow while carrying bag of what seems to be groceries. Honestly, the skeleton has half a mind to just turn around and go home to his own bed- pretend he didn't see anything- but he doesn't. Instead he makes his way to the other.
"Need a hand?"
Sans could feel his grin widen as he waved his own hand around, offering it to the teenager who briefly glances from him to it and back again before shaking his head in response. He was going to have to work on his puns a bit, that usually had even the Freak smiling- even if it was only a small hollow one. With a soft sigh, the shorter of the two popped his arm back into place, relaxing as he continued walking with the human.
"You know, Pal, I didn't quite catch your name yesterday."
For a moment, the silence supreme only deafened by the sound of snow crunching under thier feet.
"Harry."
The moment Sans hears the voice he freezes.
Its soft- any softer and it would be lost to the gentle breezes- with a faint crackle much like a flame in the midst of winter.
Its familiar, too familiar. For a moment, it feels as though he's in another timeline during one of those drunken nights spent at the tavern with solely a flame holding an honest concern for his wellbeing.
Shaking his head, the smaller dismissed the trail of thought- it wasn't uncommon for someone to have the same vocal patterns as another- and offered a the human a grin.
"You don't look that hairy to me though you've gotten yourself into quite the hairy solution. I mean how much of a harried could you have been in not to notice a hole in the ground before you fell in it."
For a moment, a strange look flashed crossed the human's face before it was gone almost as if it never existed yet the skeleton had caught it only due to the fact he had been observing the other's reactions to his pun closely.
"... You did fall, didn't you?"
He wouldn't put it past the Demon to push someone in.
No.
Well Yes, he did fall but he didn't trip.
Now that he took a moment to stop and think about it, Harry could clearly remember standing slightly away from the edge of the hole while making sure no vines caught his feet- and what few did, withered away before they could do any actually damage.
He remembers pulling Frisk back and looking at the hole with a frown as he contemplated best to cover it so none could have an accident due to carelessness or their own curiosity. Then...
There had been a sudden weight pushing against the small of his back.. Maybe Frisk had tripped and bumped into him?
"I... Tripped."
For some reason, Sans finds that hard to believe but doesn't call the human out on it.
"In that case, why don't you share some of those bags before you trip and no one sees you again till Fall. "
They wake to the smell of their Brother's cooking: Eggs, sausage, harsh browns or was it fries this time?
It didn't matter to Frisk as they slowly dragged theirselves down the stairs. Their Brother's cooking was always heavenly and delightful. Always filling them with warmth, comfort and love; sometimes Frisk pondered if the food was drugged but honestly they didn't think they would care even if it was.
It was their's. God help anyone who attempted to steal it away from them as they weren't above stabbing hands to ensured it stayed their's.
The moment they reach the front of Grillby's they're tempted to stab someone anyways- more specifically the Comedian sitting at the bartop eating their fries.
For not the first time in his life, Harry finds himself feeling very much like a third wheel as breakfast moved from a pun filled peace quest to the tense edge of a knife in a matter of mili-seconds. Sans' relaxed smile seems more and more tense by the second and if Frisk stabs that knife anything harder, they where likely to split the plate in two.
Emerald eyes darted from the skeleton to his Nibling and back.
"Do you two... Know each other?"
"NO!"
The dual voices answered at once causing the ebony haired teen to raise his hands in mock surrender. For some strange reason, Harry didn't believe either of them despite all logical reasoning saying it was impossible for them to know each other without him knowing- he had carried Frisk the whole way here after all.
In all honestly, Snowdin wasn't that bad, a bit cold and the citizens where slightly distant towards outsiders- but what small, tight community where everyone knew each other by name wasn't?- yet strangely cozy in its own sort of way.
It probably helped he had a panful skeleton always at his door to distract him every morning and Frisk had started to venture out once more, though it was a tad strange how they always seemed to know where everything was beforehand.
He can't breathe. He's not quite sure what had happened; one moment he had been smiling at Sans' latest pun- one that actually didn't leaving him wishing to bash his head into the nearest wall- as they went about the morning walk back to Grillby's and the next...
Pain.
It had shot through him like a hot knife through butter. He was leaning other, emerald eyes widened slightly in surprise as a crimson splatter stained both the skeleton and the snow before him. He couldn't breathe, his felt tight and each attempt made him feel as though he was choking, oh so slowly suffocating. He sinks to his knees, his legs too numb to hold him...
There's something a bright neon blue sticking out of his chest... Huh, he didn't recall that being there earlier. His gaze move upwards, locking on the frozen looking skeleton; the slight widening of his eyes the only sigh of his own shock.
The sound of snow crunching under metal boots as their owner slowly makes their way towards him reaches his ears.
"Good job on distracting the human Sans. I'll take it from here. "
The voice sounds feminine but that doesn't seem to matter to him, only the words matter. Confused, pained emerald eyes meet the skeletons.
"...Sans?"
Whatever the skeleton was going to say was lost to him as the world went black.
He sets himself aflame yet- blazing bright like the sun- yet the darkness consumes all light. Despite the flames, the shadows cling to him like a leech. Despite his struggles, the abyss keeps dragging him further and further down.
There's no light, no exit, no hope.
He's freefalling with no way to stop, no way to escape the abyss' hold.
Dark. Darker. Yet Darker.
He wonders if he'll fall forever, but then he's not. He floating on what seems to be a lake made of shadows. Its strangely comforting to the point he can't bring himself to panic when white leans into his vision and a purple eyes stares down at him with a smile- which in itself should have him running the other direction all the while screaming bloody murder.
"Grillby?"
Fire; a blinding crimson flame with scotching white highlights. It was a beautiful yet deadly inferno, willing to consume any and all that got in its way. It was death and destruction consuming the bed and all that dared venture too close to it.
It was...Their Brother, no doubt suffering another nightmare.
... At least they weren't at home this time. Grillby had been a living flame so this place should at least be safe from burning to smoldering cinders due to their Brother's Prokinesis and if not...
Well who really would care if an deserted tavern burned to the ground?
Maybe the Comedian would- he loved this place after all- always spending all his time here no matter what timeline they where in. In that case, they should diffentally burn this place down before they leave... or they could just allow their brother to keep sleeping and have his flames reach a few unfortunately placed bottles kerosene. A nice explosion would serve as a good distraction and quickly draw everyone's attention, while they where all focused here, They could finally slip into Waterfall unnoticed.
Slowly they smiled.
Now where did Grillby store his Kerosene again?
