It started out being odd from the very beginning. When Frisk hadn't run into the apartment, arms already spread wide in preparation for a spinning hug, Sans had figured maybe they just weren't feeling too 'huggy' today. Papyrus had given them one regardless, but they didn't seem to enjoy it. If anything, they seemed to dislike it. Sans had frowned at that, sensing the strange behavior immediately, but said nothing. He didn't want to worry Papyrus, afterall.
"Frisk has been very much like a certain skeleton today...They slept in until well past noon, if you can believe that!" Toriel cried, holding the back of her paw to her forehead, as though she might faint from the very thought.
"WHAT? WE MUST REMEDY THIS RIGHT AWAY! MY BROTHER'S LAZY NATURE IS RUBBING OFF ON THEM TOO MUCH!"
"Perhaps he is just having yet another growth spurt. It is said that human children eat and sleep more when they are growing, which makes a lot of sense." She had smiled proudly and reached out to pat Frisk's head fondly. When she caught sight of the clock, she quickly pulled up her wrist to check her own watch, frowning. "Oh dear, it appears that I must hurry, lest I be late." Leaning down, she quickly gave the child a kiss on the head, giving a small wave as she left the apartment and closed the door behind her.
That left the three of them standing in the living room, Papyrus still waving madly to the departed queen out their window, Sans watching Frisk closely. They weren't acting like themselves, and that made him..nervous. Incredibly so. "So, kid, what ya feelin' up for?" he asked suddenly, directly, and Frisk glanced up at him, their expression slightly tense. They quickly pulled up a smile, though, signing.
"Puzzles?"
"AN EXCELLENT SUGGESTION, FRISK! COME! I HAVE A NEW BOOK EXCLUSIVELY ABOUT PUZZLES THAT I WISH TO SHOW YOU!" Papyrus scooped the child up and ran back to his bedroom, depositing the child on the racecar bed before moving to look over his bookshelf. After taking only a second to locate the book (he had them all arranged alphabetically and by subject matter, of course), he jumped onto the bed, making Frisk bounce slightly on the mattress. "THIS ONE IS A NEW FAVORITE, AND I HAVE ONLY READ IT SEVEN TIMES! I THINK THAT YOU WILL BE ABLE TO APPRECIATE THE SUBTLE NUANCES OF PUZZLE MAKING THAT IT DISCUSSES!" Papyrus said excitedly, already flipping the book open and beginning a lengthy discussion...or, a lecture, since Frisk didn't really seem to participate as much as they normally did.
After a while, they began to squirm uncomfortably, and Papyrus paused in his reading, looking over to the child with a raised browbone. "Can we eat something?" they signed, sighing when the skeleton gave a hearty nod.
"BUT OF COURSE! SANS HAS BOUGHT MANY SNACKS FOR US TO ENJOY! ALLOW ME TO GO GET THEM!" With that, he hopped off of the bed, doing a flip in the air and landing on his feet by the door. This prompted a small giggle from the child, and Papyrus felt himself clench his fist, feeling somewhat victorious. He grabbed glasses of strawberry soda AND cherry kool-aid (since he didn't know which they would prefer, and, naturally, he was the best host), as well as several bags of monster candy, chips, and cookies. He dumped the bags onto the mattress as though they were spoils from a treasure raid, all while setting the glasses carefully on his bedside table. Frisk eyed the food for a moment, hesitating, until Papyrus pushed a glass into their hand and tore open a bag of chips.
Sans had hung back, moving to the couch and collapsing onto it heavily. His left eye began to glow a faint blue as he lifted his left hand, and the fridge across the room opened, a bottle of ketchup floating out before it closed carefully behind it. The bottle flew lazily across the room until, eventually, it landed in his hand. He'd just managed to pop the cap and raise it to take a sip when Papyrus cried out in alarm in the other room. His soul flared anxiously, and the bottle clattered to the floor, spilling its red contents onto the carpet as he was jumping to his feet, standing at his brother's bedroom door in a flash.
"Paps, what's the matter?!" he asked, stepping into the room just as Frisk hunched forward, barely making it to the waste basket as he retched. The bright red contents sent a pulse of panic through the skeleton brothers, and Papyrus simply stared, eyesockets already collecting tears as he trembled, looking at the child fearfully. "What happened?!" Sans shouldn't be shouting, he knew that, but something about seeing the child coughing up something bright red sent bad memories rushing through his mind.
"I-...I DO NOT KNOW! THEY WERE FINE, AND WE WERE TALKING ABOUT PUZZLES, AND THEN, SUDDENLY, THEY JUST-" Papyrus is cut off as Frisk vomits again, and when they can hear the quiet, breathless sobs in between bouts, they both run over to the child. "HUMAN, WHAT IS THE MATTER?! BROTHER, IS HE INJURED? IS HE GOING TO DIE?!"
"I-" He didn't know. If there was one thing that scared the shit out of Sans more, it was not knowing. He'd never seen anything like this before, except- 'Except for when he was coughing up blood, after he failed to pass through Judgement Hall.' He shook his head roughly, trying to dispel the awful thoughts, the awful memories.
"WHAT DO WE DO?!" His brother was frantic now, and the tears making tracks down his skull only served to jumble Sans' mind even more. They couldn't go to a hospital with Frisk. Two monsters carrying in an injured human child was just a no-go. Toriel was gone.
His mind latched onto the thought of one person, and turned on his heel, slippers scuffing across the carpet as he headed for their front door. "Grab 'em, Paps, and c'mon." When he noticed his brother's hesitation, he urged him, "Hurry." This got him to move, carefully cradling Frisk to his chest and following after the smaller skeleton.
It was one of those nights. Ones where things just seemed to go well, and you couldn't help but be left in high spirits. That was what Lena was thinking as she dragged out different articles of clothing, glancing them over before shaking her head and putting them back. It was just a 'girl's night out', as Brit had called it, but it was the first time that they could hang out, just the two of them, in a long time. 'Too long,' she mused, pulling out a brown turtleneck sweater and laying it across her bed as she pulled her shirt up and over her head, tossing it to the ground. She'd pick it up later, of course, she told herself. Her fingers had just barely brushed the fabric of her sweater when a sudden loud pounding startled her, and she jerked her hand back, staring at her front door in surprise. Whoever it was certainly was urgent, as the hammering on her door hadn't stopped since it began. Grabbing a random tank top from the floor, she quickly pulled it on and rushed to the front door, not even pausing to glance at who it might be, jerking the door open.
"HUMAN, SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH FRISK!" Papyrus cried, immediately pushing himself past Lena and into her living room, pacing worriedly. She felt her chest clench anxiously, biting at her bottom lip.
"Lay him down on the couch, gently," she ordered, turning to Sans, who was wringing his bony hands in the doorway still. "What on earth is going on?" His eyelights were dim, darting every whichway, from Frisk, to Papyrus, to her, to the floor, his hands, back to Frisk.
"The kid was fine, maybe a lil' quiet. They were in Pap's room with him when they started- ...This stuff just...it kinda came out of them. It was r-red." She'd never seen him like this, though he was very good at hiding his emotions. She could feel the fear emanating from him in waves, could see it in the way his brow creased, his smile now more of a grimace.
"YES, IT CAME FROM THEIR MOUTH! ARE THEY GOING TO BE OKAY?!" the larger skeleton wailed, hovering over Frisk as they began to squirm again. Lena took only a second to think, then she quickly grabbed the child up from the couch and walked to the bathroom. The instant she set Frisk down, they were throwing themselves over the toilet, vomiting into it. Little breathless cries were all that interrupted the retching, and Lena gently knelt behind them, moving their hair back from their face. She pulled the hairtie from her own hair, letting it fall loose around her shoulders and instead used it to pull Frisk's hair back, a little messy ponytail just at the base of their skull. "BROTHER, WHAT DO WE DO?!"
The amount of panic in Papyrus' voice brought Lena's attention away from the sick child and back to the skeleton brothers, who were now standing in the hall just outside of the bathroom, peering in worriedly. 'Do they not know about...?' She gave a small shake of her head. "Papyrus, can you come and rub their back for me? I'm going to get them some water." The skeleton was eager to nod, skull still etched with worry as he squeezed his way into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub, a gloved hand dragging up and down along Frisk's back. With him well taken care of, Lena made her way past Sans and into the kitchen, pulling down a plastic cup and filling it with cool water.
"What's wrong with 'em?" Sans' rough voice was suddenly beside her and she jumped a bit, some water splashing out of the cup and getting on her hand. "Sorry." She shook her head.
"It's fine. They're just a little sick. Probably just have a little stomach bug. It's pretty common for humans."
"Stomach bug?"
"Like a virus... It's our body's way of protecting itself. Something in Frisk's stomach wasn't supposed to be there, so his body's trying to get rid of it the only way it knows how. By vomiting."
"So it's...it's not blood?" The tentative and guilty tone he had when he said that made Lena pause, eyes looking over him as he continued to wring his hands, the sounds of bone scraping filling the room. She reached out and grabbed his hands with her one free hand, ignoring how he flinched under her touch and willing him to look up at her. When he did, she gave him a reassuring smile.
"Not blood. He just probably ate or drank something red. ...He'll be fine, I promise," she urged gently, and Sans could feel, more than hear, the sincerity in her words. The instant their hands touched, he could feel her soul reaching out for his, trying to quiet it. It was...far more reassuring than it probably should have been. When he finally nodded, she pressed the cup into his hands. "Good. Now, go take that to Frisk. They'll want to rinse out their mouth when they're done. I'm going to get a bed set up for him." All he could do was nod again, taking the cup and waiting until she was out of the kitchen to sag against the counter, a heavy sigh hissing past his teeth. He hated feeling like this, feeling so helpless, not knowing what to do. It made him feel out of his element, like he wasn't in control, and he couldn't stand it. He had to stay in control of himself for Papyrus, and for Frisk- for everybody.
Forcing himself to act calmly, he allowed his legs to carry him to the bathroom, where Frisk was still hunched, Papyrus anxiously rubbing their back. He set the cup down a little too loudly, drawing the child's attention. He couldn't help the stab of guilt he felt in his soul the way Frisk was looking at him, tears dripping down their cheeks, bottom lip quivering, their soul dim as opposed to its usual bright red glow. The expression on their face was so similar, so strikingly similar to the one he'd gotten before, that he had to look away from it. He knew that Frisk was asking for him, but he couldn't bring himself to even look at him, couldn't stand being in the same room. He turned and left the bathroom in a hurry, heading toward the balcony. The glass doors slid open easily, and the instant he closed them, he released a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. The evening air was cool against his face as he reached his hands out to grip at the railing tightly.
'Sorry kid...'
After the vomiting seemed to subside (or, at least, there was nothing left in their stomach), Lena had Papyrus carry Frisk into one of the spare bedrooms. It was always amazing to her, how such a large monster could be so gentle as he tucked Frisk in with an amount of care that made her heart ache. This was the bond between Frisk, the fallen human, and the monsters. A part of her was jealous, a part that she immediately banished to the very back of her mind. This was something that they had worked hard for, had earned, had fought for. They had broken the barrier for them; of course they would be close to monsters.
'I'm just being selfish...'
Once Frisk was asleep, both she and Papyrus slipped silently out of the room, and just as Lena managed to close the door behind them, she heard a noisy sniffle from behind her. "You are certain that Frisk is...okay?" His voice was so uncharacteristically quiet that it startled her, and when she turned around, the sight of the giant, teary skeleton nearly broke her heart. He resembled a frightened child, the way he was standing before her, curled in on himself. Giving him her most reassuring smile, she nodded, reaching up on tip-toes to wrap her arms around his neck in a hug. Another sniffle, and she could feel the relieved tears hitting her bare shoulder. "I... I was frightened terribly. I-... We thought that Frisk was dying..." He hiccuped and buried his face in her shoulder, and she reached a hand up to rub at the back of his skull, trying to soothe him.
"He'll be fine, Papyrus. He's just got an upset tummy," she said gently, smile widening slightly when she felt him nod against her. After a moment he pulled away, eyesockets and cheekbones damp with tears still, but they had stopped flowing. He raised a gloved hand to wipe at his face.
"Could we perhaps...continue our sleepover here?" he asked, voice sounding uncertain, and she couldn't help but nod. Not when he sounded like that. It was well worth the smile she gave him afterwards. "I shall be back! I will go to our apartment and get some things!" His voice was still quiet, no doubt to try and be courteous of the sleeping child, but he sounded back to himself otherwise, which Lena was glad for. As he left her apartment she glanced around, suddenly aware of the lack of company.
Sans was nowhere to be found.
Frowning, she slowly made her way through each room, searching for him. The bathroom was empty, though, she noticed with a small grimace, no one had bothered to flush the toilet. She did so quickly, holding her breath to avoid the smell of sick and flicking off the light as she left. 'If Papyrus had been scared, then maybe Sans...' When she found that the kitchen and both unoccupied bedrooms were empty, she made her way back into the living room, unable to ignore the small worried knot in the pit of her stomach. She quickly pulled out her phone and sent him a text.
| Lena: Hey, where'd you run off to? I didn't know you were leaving already. |
She was just about to sit down when a small musical tone came from just outside. Of course she hadn't thought to check the balcony. When she slid the glass doors open, she found Sans sitting with his back against the side of the building, phone in one hand as he snubbed out a mostly burnt dog treat with the other. "Sorry," he rasped, before pausing to clear his throat (how does he even do that?) and trying again. "Sorry for bailing. Needed some fresh air."
"It's okay, I get it... Not everybody likes being around sick people." He shook his head, a gesture which she immediately realized as a silent 'it's not that', but when he said nothing more, she didn't press it. "Papyrus was scared, poor thing..." Sans gave a dry laugh, completely humorless.
"Yeah, well, 's not exactly somethin' skeletons do, or other monsters, for that matter..." When the silence stretched on for a moment too long, he shoved his phone back into his pocket, glancing out at the sky. It was already beginning to darken, turning a deep blue on one far edge of the sky, while the other was a mix of reds and pinks and yellows. Something about looking up at the sky always made him feel better. "...Papyrus said you were gonna be out tonight," he said, though it was more of a question. When she made a small hum of affirmation, he frowned. "Sorry we kinda ruined your plans."
"I'm not." The suddenness of the words took him a bit by surprise and he glanced at her from the corner of his eyesockets. "If I hadn't been here, you two would've had to deal with that all by yourselves...not that I doubt your capabilities." He gave a small chuckle, flicking a bit of ash from his pants and heaving a sigh.
"Well, thanks...for helpin' the kid." With only a slight pause, and the faintest bits of jealousy echoing in his soul, he continued in a softer voice. "...and Paps. He felt a lot better after whatever ya did."
"I didn't do much. Just told him again that Frisk would be okay." Sans shook his head.
"Nah, 's more than that. You just don't realize it." When he noticed she was looking at him questioningly, he released another small sigh, raising his hand to tap a finger against his chest. "Has to do with souls. You soothed his, 'n so he felt better."
"I...can do that?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder, and he couldn't help but smile slightly at it.
"Mhm. 's funny, how little you humans actually know about souls." She shrugged her shoulders slightly, moving to sit next to him, knees pulled to her chest.
"I've read lots of the books that monsterkind brought to the surface on the subject, but it's just...difficult to understand something that can't really be seen, y'know? Not like physical parts of us, like you see in an anatomy textbook." This took him by surprise; he hadn't expected her to be willing to try and read those books, considering they were so difficult to come by. 'Is it really a surprise, though, considering it's her?'
"Whaddaya talkin' about? You can see souls," he said, snorting slightly at the look of curiosity blossom on her face. "What, seriously? You didn't know?" She shook her head quickly, a hand raising to rest on her chest.
"How do you see them? I wonder what mine looks like... Can you see mine?" The question brought a small flush of light blue across his cheekbones, though she assumed it was a trick of the light.
"I mean, yes and no..." That answer was obviously not satisfactory enough, because she huffed and rolled her eyes, prompting him to shrug his shoulders lazily. "I can't see your soul necessarily, but I can see its aura. In order to see a soul, you gotta manifest it."
"How do you do that? How do you manifest a soul? Can I do it? How do I do it?" Her voice was eager, like a child talking about an upcoming trip (or Papyrus talking about puzzles, he noted fondly), and he chuckled and waved a hand at her.
"Slow down there, champ. You need magic to manifest a soul, so you prolly can't do it yourself." She deflated for a moment, looking disappointed, then her eyes met his, and she tilted her head slightly.
"Then, can you do it? Manifest a soul, I mean."
"...I know how, yeah."
"Could you...manifest mine?" Had he a throat, he would've swallowed at that, praying that the light flush across his face wouldn't glow bright enough to be noticed. "Sorry, is...is that not okay to ask? I read that dealing with each others' souls is special, but I just-... I-I just really wanna see it. I wanna know what my soul looks like." The expression on her face was one of longing, and as her eyes stared imploringly into his, he found himself wavering. It was only a few seconds before he was sighing, shrugging slightly.
"Yeah, suppose it wouldn't hurt nothin'..." She smiled eagerly and watched as he turned, scooting himself so that he was facing her. He was suddenly having a difficult time looking at her. "Alright, hold still. This might feel weird." She gave a small nod and he reached a hand out, palm up and fingers extended, reaching toward her chest. He stopped just short of touching her, curling his fingers inward and pulling his fist back. The sensation could only be explained as a pull, like something was being tugged gently from her chest, not painful, just foreign.
She didn't know when she had closed her eyes, but when she opened them, it was almost difficult. There was suddenly a bright light, floating between them, and it took her a few moments to adjust before she could actually see it. There, hovering just between herself and Sans, was a heart. 'Green' was the first word that came to mind when she looked at it, but it was so much more complex than that. It was a mix of jade and emerald, so many different hues swirling together beneath the 'surface', if it even had one. For being something that was not physical, it looked so real. Every now and then, there would be little flecks of gold, reminiscent of little glimpses of sunlight peeking through a thick canopy of trees. The way the colors moved together, against one another, with one another, it even looked like leaves drifting together in a gentle breeze.
"Wow..." she whispered, voice hushed, and a small sound across from her pulled her eyes away from her soul and to Sans. The look on his face was one of awe, his normally guarded expression slipping as his eyesockets widened, the little pearls of light in his eyes bright as they focused so intently on her soul. She saw her soul brighten as she felt a small flutter in her chest.
"...yeah." His voice was little more than a rough whisper, unable to bring himself to tear his eyes away. Frisk had said green. It was so much more than that. He hadn't seen any other human souls aside from Frisk's, but he still felt almost positive. This was the most beautiful human soul. He could feel the warmth practically pouring from it, brushing against his face like a warm summer breeze, gentle, kind... He found himself wanting to reach out, to touch it, and he immediately chastised himself for that thought. It wasn't right. It just...it wasn't. That wasn't something he was supposed to want.
"This... This is everything I am...?" she asked cautiously, reaching a hesitant hand out to try and touch the floating soul. Her fingers phased right through it, and the action brought just enough of his attention back to her that he saw the look of disappointment on her face. He chuckled.
"Y' can't touch yer own soul," he said, trying to keep the amusement from his voice as he watched her continually try and fail to touch the heart between them. The disappointment manifested itself in a dimming of the light emanating from it, and the pull he felt in his own soul to do whatever it took to make it brighten again startled him.
"Can you?" The question was innocent, but the explosion of blue that suddenly glowed across his cheekbones was unavoidable.
"Uh..." 'Wow, way to be articulate.' "It's uh... Touching someone's soul's kinda...intimate." Her face flushed a bright red, her soul fluttering between them, and he felt like if he didn't say something, then the awkward silence would kill him. "It takes alotta trust, since one wrong touch can destroy it... That kinda thing's usually saved for family members 'n mates."
"Oh... I guess that makes sense..." she muttered, raising a hand to rub at her cheek with the heel of her hand. It was a stupid nervous tick, like she was trying to wipe the blush away, though all it ever really did was make her face more red. "Have you ever...touched someone's soul?" When Sans frowned slightly, she quickly backpedaled, shaking her head. "Sorry, that's not an okay question. I'm sorry."
"Nah, 's fine. Paps 'n I have, long time ago... I've seen a lot of other souls, but somethin' like that... It takes too much trust. Can't say anybody else trusts me that much, heh." It was an awkward conversation, and he found himself scratching at the back of his skull, grating sound of bone on bone filling the air. The light between them flickered a bit brighter, shimmering with energy, like the leaves had blown aside to reveal more of the summer sun.
"...I trust you." The soul floated closer to Sans, brushing against the fur of his hood, and he jerked backward, eyesockets flying open wide. She stammered and reached out, trying to pull it back to her, but unable to touch it. "S-sorry! I don't know how to-"
"Souls kinda...react to our emotions," he mumbled, willing the blue blush across his face to fade. At least she hadn't said anything about it. They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the cool breeze and the sounds of life carrying on around them. Time seemed to be frozen out on her balcony, even though they knew it continued ticking by, as it always did. He felt a question rising in his non-existent throat and tried to force it down, but the incessant nudging of the green heart was prompting him to speak. "If- ...I mean... ...You really trust me?" He glanced up at her, realizing that she had, at some point, covered her face with her hands. He could see from the reddened tips of her ears that she was blushing, probably as badly as he was. His question, though, prompted her to lower her hands slowly, and though she was obviously embarrassed, the way she looked at him and nodded made his soul swell in his chest. "...Alright." Was he really going to do this? This was a mistake, he tried to tell himself that, but the yearning in his own soul, the curiosity, was getting the better of him. Maybe it was the dog treat. He should've known better than to smoke during such a tense situation.
"Are you sure...? Y-you don't have to." She was right, he didn't, and he knew that. He shouldn't, and he knew that. Not unless she was aware of what it meant. He could never forgive himself if she came to regret this happening, but how was he supposed to tell her? Apparently she must have been able to sense his struggle, because she reached out and rested a hand on one of his, tightly balled into fists on his knees. "I-I know that you'll be able to see a lot of who I am, if...if that's what you're worried about. I'm okay with that."
'How the fuck can you be okay with this?' he thought, giving a short nod and forcing a grin onto his face. "M'kay, so long as you're aware." She removed her hand and he flexed his fingers, curling and uncurling them nervously. "It can be pretty...intense. Just givin' ya a heads up." The small nod was all the response he got, and he sighed, surprised by how shaky it sounded, even to himself. "Okay..."
They just sat there for the longest time, her waiting patiently, him struggling to gather up his nerves to actually do what he said he'd do. It was one thing to think about doing something, but actually doing it was another entirely. A part of him was afraid of hurting her, terrified that, somehow, he'd damage her precious, beautiful soul. Then another, darker part in his soul was worried that she'd push back, get a glimpse into his own soul. There were things that he didn't want her to see, didn't want her to be aware of. It was unlikely, with her soul being the only one manifested, but still...the risk was enough for him to worry about. A shiver, both from her body and her soul, brought his attention back to the present, and he didn't know how long they'd been sitting there, but the sun had already set, the air holding a sharper chill than it had during the daylight hours. The first dozen stars were already dotting the darkness, and he paused to look up at them, calming himself.
Everything would be okay.
When he finally convinced his arms to move, they lifted up, hands open, palm upward, cupping around the floating emerald-colored heart. Not touching it, just an inch or so away from it. It floated in his hands, and he spared her one final glance before he moved, cradling the soul gently in the palm of one bony hand. His other hand now hovered over it, fingertips just barely above its surface, and he realized that they were trembling faintly.
Why was he so afraid?
Steeling his nerve, he flexed his index finger outward, just enough to barely brush his fingertip along one of the top crests of the heart. The reaction was instantaneous. Lena sucked in a deep breath, her eyes widening, and Sans would have worried that he'd hurt her if it weren't for the smile spreading across her face. She turned her face upward toward the sky, eyes slipping closed, a look of bliss overcoming her features.
He could feel so much- too much. The warmth that flooded into his soul from his fingertip was just as he'd felt before, only stronger. The warmest of blankets wrapping around his entirety, his body, his soul, his everything. Her thoughts and emotions began pouring into him, and it was so powerful that he almost let go. He could feel just how much she cared about Papyrus, and Frisk, and Toriel, Undyne, and Alphys. How much she loved cooking with Papyrus, and that she loved him like a sibling. He saw unfamiliar faces of humans that looked a lot like her, and the emotions were mostly positive. He felt some resentment, some disappointment, mostly love. There was so much love in her soul, so much kindness.
He delved deeper.
Here were darker feelings, like the color of a dark evergreen in the dead of night. He saw memories flash into his mind, of being made fun of, being called names, trying to stand up for herself, but failed. His soul clenched painfully in his chest as he felt the self-hatred, a feeling he never would have expected to find, but one he never wanted her to experience again. "I'm fine, just on a diet." Humans were so stupid, he realized. They would hate each other for the most ridiculous things, and drive each other to do things to themselves that were far from kind. Maybe it was because they couldn't see souls, like monsters could, couldn't see LV and EXP. Maybe if they could learn how to, then humans could learn to love themselves a little better...
"Hey, you're gorgeous! Don't let those assholes get you down." Brit's voice echoed into his mind, and he felt a rush of happiness from her soul, a rush of love. He found himself smiling without realizing.
"You do not need to worry so much, human. You should be smiling!" Now he could hear his brother's voice, and he couldn't remember when this memory was from...maybe because he wasn't a part of it. A small part of himself wanted to feel envious of that, but the other part was overwhelmed by the rush of happiness that followed after a moment, and he could hear the human's voice. "Sans called me his friend..." He sucked in a breath.
'Oh...' He never realized just how happy that had made her; he'd only ever felt uncertain, unsure, afraid that maybe he'd made a mistake saying the words out loud when confronting those Pyropes weeks ago.
"If- I mean... ...You really trust me?" Oh, his soul felt like it was going to burst, and he closed his eyes against the intensity of the emotions, of the feeling. He could feel her trust as though it were tangible, as easily as if it were something he could pick up with his hands, and...it felt good. "...Alright." Joy, bright and blinding and warm, too warm, too much. Sans released his gentle hold on Lena's soul, holding his hand palm out toward it, gently urging it back inside her body. He watched, enraptured, as it phased back into her body, the mint-green glow fading from sight.
It was only then that he saw the tears pouring down her reddened, freckled cheeks. Feeling frantic, he cursed, scooting himself closer and grabbing her shoulders. "Shit, did I hurt you? I didn't think I'd- fuck, I'm sorry!" She shook her head, and though he could feel little hiccuping sobs through the way her shoulders trembled, the smile on her face was so grateful, so unfiltered, so happy, that he felt himself sigh in relief. "Sorry...warned ya it was intense." She gave a watery laugh and raised a hand to wipe at her eyes, but, without her sleeves, all it served to do was smear the tears across her cheeks. He raised his hand without thought, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe at her eyes. It hadn't been missed, the way she tensed when he first moved, but he also didn't miss how quickly she relaxed, closing her eyes. It only struck home even harder, just how much she trusted him, and stars, did it do funny things to his soul.
"Thanks..." she murmured, and he shrugged his shoulders, quickly pulling his arm back as soon as her cheeks were dry.
"'s no problem."
"No, really. It...I know it took a lot of faith for you to be willing to do that..." He felt himself flinch inwardly. Had she been able to feel that from him...? What else did she feel? What else did she see? "I'm sure it was weird...doing that. But it...it meant a lot to me." Her voice had gotten so soft that he struggled to hear it. Why would it mean a lot to her? She was just curious, right?
"I...know that I won't ever get to see yours..." she mumbled, her soul suddenly aching, he could feel it, faintly. "...B-but I'm sure yours is even better than mine. Whoever gets to see it will be incredibly fortunate."
Did she even know what those words meant? He felt a dull throb from within the very core of his soul, and he averted his gaze.
"...Y'really wanna see it that bad?" He knew the answer to that question; he could feel the longing from her soul. Even though he was no longer touching it, there was a connection still there, faintly, his magic feeling it because of their closeness. She didn't react, didn't nod, because she had no right to ask for something so personal, so private. Pulling in a deep breath, he leaned back a bit, resting his palm against his sternum, With a small tug, he could feel his soul exiting his body, and he was afraid, didn't want to look at her face, to see her disgust.
It was a pale white upside down heart, as all monster souls were, but the glow around it was a faint cyan blue, pulsating slightly like it had a heartbeat. The surface was riddled with cracks, and there were parts where it seemed like there were chips, little pieces missing. As far as monster souls go, his was hideous. He had seen others that were more beautiful, more pure. Papyrus, his beloved brother, had the most pristine soul, and it was his life's mission to do everything he could to keep it that way. She may not know how monster souls are supposed to look, but she would surely be able to tell that his wasn't it.
"O-oh my god..." Here it comes, the disappointment, the rejection of his soul. It flinched visibly between them as he prepared himself for a verbal attack...that never came. "Sans... It's so beautiful." He could feel more than hear the adoration in her words, her soul glowing brightly within her chest, and his own shimmered a bright blue that matched the blush now spread across his cheekbones. "It's so strong, if it's been broken so many times and still holds itself together..." Was she crying? He finally forced himself to meet her gaze and saw that yes, she was crying, and the look of awe and wonder and amazement in her eyes as she looked upon his soul made him shudder. She wanted to touch it. He could feel the longing, saw her hands twitch as she forced them to remain still at her sides, and he was quick to return his soul to where it belonged, beneath his ribs. "...Sans." The lights of his eyes flickered from his chest to her face, and he was startled by the expression on her face. "...thank you." She was leaning closer, and he felt himself begin to panic, mind racing furiously as he tried to figure out what she was doing. He could feel her soul, throbbing with that same warm feeling that had overcome him before, and he didn't know what it meant, couldn't comprehend it. Why was it directed at him? He wasn't deserving of such a thing.
This was the last thought to cross his mind as he felt lips press softly to his forehead, his breath catching in a throat he didn't have. As she pulled away she tugged up his hood, and the fur lining it blocked his vision a bit. She got to her feet and silently went back into the apartment, leaving him alone on the balcony with feelings he had no idea how to manage.
The instant she stepped back inside, she released the breath she'd been holding, feeling her heart hammering against her ribs heavily. She had really done that, hadn't she? Maybe it was the overwhelming sensations and emotions from having him touch her soul, but something had just...pushed her to do that.
...No. It was more like something that was holding her back was no longer there. 'Will he be angry...?' She didn't know, and worrying about the answer made her chest ache. Forcing the thoughts aside, she walked through her apartment, carefully opening the door to the room Frisk had been in enough to peek in. Papyrus was curled around the small human protectively, both of them sound asleep. From the smile on Frisk's face, they seemed to be feeling much better. She saw them nuzzle into the snoozing skeleton's sternum and his own smile widened, arms wrapping a bit more tightly. It was warming to see them so close, so full of trust.
Seeing that they were settled and safe, she closed the door as silently as she could, pausing in the hallway for a moment before going into her own room. She changed out of her jeans and into a pair of sweat pants, deciding that she was no longer going out, and pulled out her phone.
| Lena: Hey, Brit. Sorry, but something came up. Frisk was sick, and I ended up taking care of them. Hopefully we can find another time to hang out. |
| Brit: Are they okay? Do you need me to come over? Do you have chicken noodle soup? Medicine? |
| Lena: Everything's fine! Just a little tummy bug. They're better already. You're such a mom. |
| Brit: What? No way, really? =.= |
| Lena: Way. Such a mom. I'm going to bed, though, so goodnight. Love you! |
| Brit: Wow, that was gay. So gay. 3 Love you too. Nighty-night. |
Lena giggled as she set her phone on her bedside table, looking over her bed as she pondered whether or not she was ready to go to bed. 'Maybe a movie before bed...' She quietly left her bedroom and sneaked down the hallway, creeping past the room with the sleeping 'children' and into the living room. She hadn't been expecting to see Sans sitting on her couch, already flipping through the channels. It seemed less like he was actually looking for something to watch and more like he was doing it for something to do. When she actually stepped into the room he whipped his head up to look at her, remote falling from his hand and to the floor with a soft 'thud'.
"Ah- hey... Figured you'd be goin' to bed..." he mumbled, sounding only the smallest bit flustered (not), and she shrugged her shoulders slightly.
"I was gonna watch a movie before bed..." She paused, uncertain, and he could feel it. Shit, he felt the same way. This was new territory, and he'd only caught a glimpse of it, and he still wasn't entirely sure of what he thought of it... He knew what he felt, but he preferred his thoughts. They were usually more rational. They made more sense.
...But he couldn't stand watching her standing there, in her own home, looking so uncertain. So he motioned for her to come over, patting the cushion right next to him with a small smile. "I'm game. Another comedy? You said there was two of those 'Ace Ventura' movies, right?" His answer apparently surprised her, because she just stared at him, and he couldn't help but snort. "You gonna stand there all night, or...?" This seemed to snap her out of whatever thoughts she had, because she smiled brightly and nodded. (God, since when did he start really noticing that those smiles started doing things to his soul?) He watched as she hurriedly put the DVD into the player and sat herself down next to him. Her hand brushed against his as soon as she sat, and she flushed, pulling her hand away and mumbling an apology. He steeled himself and reached back out for it, taking her hand into his, and he was immediately distracted by how soft they were. Much softer than his own, obviously, which were made of bone, but they were softer than any other humans' he'd felt, either.
"...You gonna grab the remote and play the movie, or...?" He looked up with a start, realizing that he'd been sitting and staring at their joined hands, and he quickly leaned forward, hand fumbling to find the remote. The amused bit of laughter certainly didn't help, but he couldn't really feel to bad about it, because her fingers wrapped just a bit tighter around his own.
He felt his soul thrum happily, glowing the brightest it had in a long, long time.