Chapter 5: Another Time Moves On
Sans woke up at the foot of the bed still cradling Frisk in his arms. He couldn't be sure when he had passed out, but it felt like years had passed. He ached all over, his bones sure to pop and crack when he stood up again. He cringed at the idea; just because it felt good doesn't mean that he didn't find it disturbing. He was surprised to find he felt rested. It was the best sleep he had ever had. No nightmares, or dreams of any kind, just the pure bliss of a deep sleep. Around the room he could see nothing destroyed, out of place or burned. He wasn't sure how, but his lapse in control had done nothing more then lift a small weight off his back. The skeleton sighed in relief and felt a small pat on his chest as a reward. Chuckling, he looked down at the child curled into him. They smiled up at him, gently patting his breastbone again. A little reluctantly, Sans released the human so they could get up and stretch. He heard a few snaps from their joints and did his best to hide his surprise. They cracked too? Only other person he had met that did that was Undyne, and she only did it to be intimidating. By the smile on their face, the skeleton figured it was more of a relief thing for the kid. Nodding in the comfort that he wasn't the only one, Sans climbed to his feet and stretched out his limbs. He popped and snapped back into place, groaning happily as the aching eased a little. He turned to ask Frisk if they wanted something to eat just in time to see them swaying on their feet. Quickly wrapping an arm around them to keep them up, the skeleton looked them over. Their face, flushed with life, contradicted all the reasons he could come up with for the child to be struggling to stand.
"You alright there buddy?" He asked, trying to keep casual. They nodded and flashed him a weak smile. There were bags under their eyes, light purple bruises making the child look older. "Hey... Did you sleep at all?" He wondered, setting them on the bed carefully. They shook their head no and rubbed their eyes. Before he could open his mouth to question the obvious, they answered with a flick of their hands.
[Think too much] they signed with a half-hearted shrug. [Scared you, sorry. Bad cut my fault] their fault? How was it their fault? It didn't make sense. He hadn't caused it? Frisk shook their head at his unasked question. They explained that when they reached him in the Hall, they couldn't quite get control. They were so close, it was right there, just out of arms length. They figured out that whenever they would get hit badly, Chara would flinch away a little, letting Frisk take the pain; and a tiny bit of control. Sans couldn't hold back the disgusted grunt he made in the back of his throat. That fucking coward, forcing Frisk to feel hurt so they could keep going unhindered. No wonder they only got faster and better every time they fought. Another thing was added to Chara's already long list of sins. [Thought if hurt enough, CHARA go away. Try it. Work out good] they shrugged. Sans couldn't believe it, they had cut their own leg that badly to stop their possessor. The skeleton shook his head in disbelief. It hadn't been an accident, obviously, but how had they managed to cut that deeply? The gash was down to their bone for fuck sake! Not even Undyne had that much will power. They could have cut off their leg, goddamn stubborn...
"You're one tough cookie, you know that?" he sighed, ruffling their hair. They gave him a tired smile in return. The skeleton leaned back on his hands and looked up to the ceiling. He would try healing them again later, after his talk with Asgore. He hoped he wouldn't have to explain too much, he really didn't feel up for a whole speech. What would the kid do in the mean time? He didn't really feel comfortable taking them along, just in case. Maybe they could just sleep at his place, god knows they need the rest. He also couldn't exactly let them walk around in just a shirt all the time, that was just indecent. Nodding, he asked Frisk what they would like to wear. Out of the corner of his eye he saw them give him a confused look but they didn't answer. "If you could wear anything you want, what would it be? Your old clothes were ruined, so I'll get you some new ones today, yeah?" he explained, waving to the basket where the clothes had been thrown away. They seemed to understand but instead of answering, they just looked at him. The skeleton liked to believe that he had gotten pretty good at reading the kid but right then he couldn't get any specific emotion out of their face.
[Why] they signed, tilting their head. [Buy own clothes. Not be weight on shoulder. Why offer] Sans shrugged. He felt a little obligated to, since he was the one that shredded their clothes in the first place. Well, there was another reason.
"Should replace what you break, right?" He asked with a smile. "You need clothes bud, I don't mind. Goin' to the castle today anyway, easy trip down to the capitol from there," he tried to think of some joke about the situation but for once, he came up blank. Maybe he was still drained. Frisk shook their head and hopped to their feet.
[Buy own clothes] they stated stubbornly. Sans sighed, preparing himself for what he'd say next. Man, this was gonna hurt.
"With what money kid? Really want to use what you got from dust piles and unattended shops?" he challenged, watching the life drain from their face as they realized their mistake. A sharp pain tugged at his soul. They looked devastated, like they had almost forgotten what they had been apart of. "You didn't earn any of it bud, what kinda guy would I be if I let you spend other peoples money?" They completely deflated, eyes on their toes and arms hugging themselves. He tried to not see the tears in their eyes. Why was it such a big deal for him to get them some clothes? "Listen, pal, I know you want to be independent and all, but it wont hurt if I buy you one set of clothes, right? We'll figure out what to do with the money later, right now why don't you draw me what you'd want to wear?" they smiled a little at the mention of drawing. As he remembered, the child had always enjoyed the process of drawing. They felt it was similar to magic; making something beautiful out of seemingly nothing. Still looking rather upset and mildly confused, Frisk hunted down some paper and different coloured pens from Alphy's work table. They spread out the paper on the floor at the foot of the bed and began to draw. He didn't remember them being this good.
Frisks hands seemed to dance on the paper, pulling lines from some imaginary plane on the page. They drew themselves standing with their hands to their chest and then sketched their old sweater over in a blue and pink pen. They left that sheet and repeated the procedure of drawing themselves, only in a different position. This time they drew a warm looking jacket, trousers and boots. The third they designed something similar to a suit with a long coat. The fourth was a dress with pink polkadots. They seemed more interested in drawing random outfits then what they'd actually like to wear. Various different types of clothing on many Frisks' covered the floor. With one sheet left, the child seemed to pause and think before continuing with their pen. When they were done, they held that one out to him. Looking it over, Sans smiled and nodded, folding it up to put in his pocket.
"What about the others?" He asked, gesturing to the pages. Their eyes turned sad as they looked over all the different Frisks', each in different clothes. They didn't answer. "Bud?" he pressed, lightly tapping their arm. They flashing him a pained smile.
[Not right time] they signed, patting his hand. Confusion struck the skeleton and he scooped up some of the paper to look at them more closely. Memories floated up, distant and fuzzy. Their jacket for the winter, their school uniform, their first summer dress, their first suit. They were all real. Scanning around, he saw a white dress with black spots; that was the dress they'd worn on their date with him to New Grillbyz up top. A Frisk in black trousers and a black shirt that was stripped with small red lines and a red tie that hung a little loose on their neck sat just under the one with the dress. That was for their meetings with Asgore, they had had others but found that outfit the most comfortable. Every page he looked at brought back a memory, a time when they had been happy. Sans felt his soul twist out of shape as he gathered up all the pages.
"You remember all these?" He asked, not looking to see the human. He didn't want to see that age in their eyes. How many years had it been? What had it all accumulated to for them? Five years? Ten? Twenty? Deep down, he knew the answer but he didn't want to consider it. It felt wrong to consider the kid that old, to be that wise. They knew so much, too much for a human child to have to know. A thought occurred to him, and the skeleton looked at the picture they had given him properly. There was no memory. The image of Frisk had a hand up to their face, covering an eye, the other one closed. A brown zip-up sweater hung off their frame just a little too much, open zipper showing a blue shirt underneath with a white rectangle on it. They had on a pair of trousers and a sturdy looking pair of brown leather boots with a small heel to them. There was nothing attached to this one. No special event or TV night in. This one had been made up. Confused, he glanced back at them.
[Different time. Different clothes] they signed, giving him a look that said it was obvious. Slowly, the skeleton nodded and replaced the picture in his pocket. As an after thought, he asked if he could keep the other drawings. They looked confused but nodded, giving him permission. He folded up the other Frisks' and put them into a different pocket inside of his coat. He patted their head and suggested they go back to his place so that they could get some rest. After a moment of consideration, they agreed and Sans guided them through a short cut to his front door.
The once cozy home looked dull and tired. The lights in the windows were out, the decorations had been unplugged. What warmth and life there had been was now gone, along with his brother. Taking a deep breath, Sans unlocked the door and pulled Frisk inside, out of the cold. The human immediately started to turn on lights, moving around the living room quietly. It was all too silent. The skeleton couldn't bring himself to do anymore then close the door and watch the child walk all over the house. They padded around, dusting things off and returning things to where they belonged. They tossed out garbage and turned on the TV. An old rerun of MTT was playing from the VCR. Mettaton's voice filled the room but the kid had moved on. They climbed the steps to Papyrus' door, taking a hesitant step inside. He heard them moving things around, no doubt cleaning up the mess he had made a few days before. When they came back out, they shut the door behind them gently and patted the hard wood. They cleaned up the landing, replacing the picture of the bone on the wall and picking up all of the trash he'd left. The human did not go into his room. They hopped back down the stairs and crossed into the kitchen, busying themselves. They sprinkled Sans' pet rock with chocolate chips, pushed the couch back into place and folded up the discarded blanket to set onto the back of the couch. Looking around, the house looked much nicer. It was tidy and warm again. There was an evident absence of the tall, boisterous skeleton but the house looked like it had potential again. This had once been his home with his brother. Now, perhaps it could be his home with the human. Said child padded over to him and lightly patted his breastbone with a smile. He grinned down at them.
"Nice work kiddo," he praised, ruffling their hair. They giggled and pushed his hand off their head. "You going to be okay here?" He asked. They nodded without hesitation, patting his chest again. For some reason, that seemed to be their form of comforting him. He appreciated the attempt. "Alright then, I don't know how long I'll be but I'll be back before night, okay?" they nodded in understanding. His smile widened and he turned to leave when a hand tugged on his sleeve. Glancing back, he saw a gentle, yet concerned look on the humans face.
"We are okay," they all but whispered. "Sans, we can... Make it," The skeleton was shocked into silence, his ever lasting smile falling into a frown of bafflement. "We can do it... I know we... Can," they smiled, tugging on his sweater again in emphasis. He had to admit 'we' sounded a lot better then 'you'. He wouldn't be surprised if the human had decided to take care of him, knowing how he must feel without his little brother around.
"Yeah," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, bud, we'll make it," He smiled and messed up their hair again. "I'll be back," and with that, he stepped back out the door. He had a king to see, some clothes to buy and some memories to deal with. Walking down the path towards Waterfall, Sans could feel something tickling the back of his mind. He knew that Frisk didn't like to speak for a very good reason and that he was one of the few that ever got to hear them, even when they were above ground. What that reason was, however, was lost to him. He didn't keep personal things like that in his notes. There was only one mentioning that Frisk could talk, yet chose not to, and used their hands instead. He wasn't the type to keep that sort of stuff down. Must be from all the lab work.
With a deep breath, Sans took two steps forward, and one step back, falling into a short cut with practiced ease. The gravity around him shifted, simultaneously increasing and decreasing dramatically. The ground gave way beneath him, falling away into nothing. The colours of Snowdin drained away, a black and white world fading into non-existence. A new floor, new colours and stable gravity centered around the skeleton just as quickly as the old had left. It all took less then a second.
Sans stood in an archway, a room of golden flowers before him, a hall of grey behind. A throne stood in the midst of the flowers. Bustling around the room, caring for the weeds, was a tall cloaked figure with a crown perched between strong horns. The skeleton rapped his knuckles on the door frame, fixing his usual grin in place. The figure jumped and spun around. The monster stood tall and wide, covered in fur from head to toe. A relieved smile replaced the panicked cringe that had been brought forth by the sudden new arrival. Sans lifted his hand in greeting, padding into the room.
"Ah, Sans! How good to see you! Is everything alright?" Asked the monster, an anxious tone to his voice. Thinking about it, the monster rather looked like a goat. The skeleton grinned a little wider at that. He nodded to the question and quickly waved off more.
"Asgore," He practically hummed into a deeper voice, providing calm where there was little. "We need to have a chat," The room seemed to be swallowed in shadow, the bright happy colours being eaten by the sudden serious tone the skeleton had brought with him. He had a funny feeling he'd have to get used to that. The goat shuffled nervously and gestured for him to continue. Smile locked in place, the skeleton shrugged nonchalantly. "It's about the human," he stated. The goat froze, a gleam of hope in one eye, dread in the other. Sans didn't mind, he was focused on his task. Papyrus wasn't the only one that could do outstanding in any field. Sans hadn't always bee such a lazy bones and he didn't have the time to be one right now. This was going to take awhile and the kid was waiting for him. Couldn't exactly leave them alone, now could he? The goat led him back into the house and they sat at the dinning table across from each other. After a heavy few minutes of deciding what to say, he cracked the silence. "There's been a mistake," He informed the king, tapping his finger against the table.
Sans had work to do.