A/N: I'll be frank: this chapter is mostly a lot of dialogue. The next one will have some more action to make up for it.

Frisk walked steadfastly down and forward, their tongue lead in their mouth—the silence of the forest oppressed the two of them, so neither spoke as they neared the town. Snow and gravel crunched under Frisk's feet, the only sound aside from the distant wind blowing through the trees. Had the forest been so quiet when they had been a child walking through the Underground, or was that another quirk of this world?

Problem was that it was so silent, they didn't even realize they had wandered into Snowdin proper until they spotted a sign outside the inn. Frisk paused and did a double take before straining their eyes to see through the darkness.

"How did—did we walk past all the direction signs?" they asked.

Flowey, who had been hunkered down deep in their hood for warmth, poked his head out and looked around. "Eh, someone probably knocked them down again. Some of the local kids do that to be brats." He straightened and chirped. "Does this mean we can finally get somewhere warm? You said we could stay at the inn."

Frisk laughed a little in spite of themselves. "Uh, yeah, I did, and yeah, we will. I was just—how on earth did I not realize we were already here? And why is it so dark around here?"

"Eh, there's a curfew. Something about discouraging hooligans, I dunno—can we go get a room now?"

"Heh, eager are we?" they teased as they picked their way through the shadows to find the dimly lit door.

"Hey, unlike you, I don't make my own body heat. I need to get warmer, thanks."

For a moment, Frisk feared the door would be locked, but when their hand finally found the knob, it turned easily. Stumbling inside, Frisk frowned at the dim lighting and empty front desk. Walking forward, they found that the lobby was empty, but from behind the corner, they saw a young rabbit peek out of the doorway in back before scowling and vanishing once more. There was no way to summon service, but after a long minute, the innkeeper walked out. She looked tired and the glare she shot Frisk was far from hospitable, but she didn't threaten Frisk, which already made her one of the friendliest people they'd met thus far.

"Hi, could I get a room for the night?"

The innkeeper shot them an unimpressed look as they glanced over their record books. There wasn't much to see in it—business must not be so great in a world where every monster seemed minutes away from shanking each other—but they made a show of checking the book. "How many beds?" she said at last, her voice husky.

"Just one will do. Any size is fine."

The rabbit grunted before looking up at them. "Three hundred gold."

Frisk stared for a moment, going stock still to resist the urge to choke on their own tongue. "Come again?"

"Three hundred gold."

Frisk blinked and began to rapidly count back from one hundred to resist the urge to start shouting. "Um, is there perhaps a… another room—one with maybe just a twin sized bed? I, uh, I don't need anything fancy."

The innkeeper's gaze stayed flat and immobile. "That is rate for a twin sized bed."

Frisk bit their lip. I could literally buy a mattress and box springs for less than that. What the hell kind of bullshit is this?

Flowey prodded the back of their neck hard. "Pay them—you're not going to get a better price."

Frisk shoved their hands into their pockets so no one would see them ball their hands into fists. This is the most goddamn ridiculous thing I've done yet, and I've stayed in hostels that had vermin infestations. There were fewer things more disconcerting than waking up to find a mouse had cuddled up against your face during the night—and yet, with a price like that, they'd seriously consider taking the mouse problem again. Finally, they at last pulled out the hard earned gold they'd scoured around for and slid it across the countertop.

The innkeeper snatched it away and scribbled something down in her book—Frisk raised a brow to see her writing a pseudonym down without their asking. Perhaps a custom of this world was trying to make sure no one could track you by checking guestbooks? "You can take 2B for tonight. The sheets are clean—don't you dare put your filthy boots on them." She all but chucked the keys to the room at them. "And don't be making a lot of noise, or I'll toss you out. No refunds."

Catching the key, Frisk waited until she turned her back before they scowled at her and marched away.

In the dim light of the hallway, it was a pain to see which room was which. They had to use their phone to check the plaque outside each room before they found 2B. Unlocking the door, they quickly stepped inside. They moved to lock the door but paused to see that there were three different sets of locks on the door. After some thought, they locked all of them; once they were finally secure, they sighed in relief and flipped on the lamp by the bedside.

"We made it," Flowey moaned, escaping their hood. "I can't believe we actually made it!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Frisk murmured, taking off their coat and tossing it at the chair next to the bed. They frowned down as they looked at the bed—despite their hopes, they saw that it really was only a twin-sized bed. Taking the covers off, they found that at least the mattress looked sound and firm, not lumpy.

"You don't get it—you've actually managed to get through to Snowdin without dying once! You… didn't die, have you?"

Frisk had to chuckle as they reached up to pluck him off their shoulder, offering him a spot on the bedside table. "No, I haven't."

"That is amazing! You don't get it, Frisk. You don't know how many times I got killed—uh, nearly got killed," he added, shiftily. Frisk considered telling him that they were aware that he'd also been able to save and reset, but decided that it was a conversation for a more awake Frisk to deal with. "I've been trying to survive around here for ages, and yet here you are, like it's a breeze. And you've done it while getting dragged into how many fights? Without killing a single monster?"

"Well, I've had good practice," they admitted, sinking down onto the mattress. They frowned; definitely not worth three hundred gold pieces. "Oh, do you want some water before I crash for awhile?"

"I'm fine." He paused, delicately balancing on the web of his roots. "Just… how much practice have you had fighting monsters?"

Frisk blinked up at him, one boot still in hand from where they had yanked it off. They let the boot drop to the floor as they considered their answer. "Well, to be fair, fighting monsters before was different than here. Monsters hit a lot harder around here. But, uh, it took a few tries to get through the Underground, back when I was a kid. After that, a friend of mine decided I needed combat practice. I'm not sure where she got the idea that I needed warrior training, but it damn if it didn't come in handy, so I guess she was right. I trained under her for about a decade—got a little lax for a year or two there, but then she, uh, decided that I needed to buckle down again. Been doing pretty good since then."

Flowey stared at them. "Combat training? Wait, so you've been training for how long exactly?"

"Um… god, a decade and change? Twelve, thirteen years? Something like that."

"What kind of training was this?"

Frisk chuckled and reached for their other boot. "Mostly running and evading. I'm really more of a lover than a fighter, Flowey, if you couldn't tell yet."

Flowey snorted. "That'd explain all the flirting back there. Which, I can't believe you stood there and flirted with that smiling, stab happy skeleton back there! Especially after he nearly fried you with that joy buzzer."

"Eh, you'd be surprised how far a little flirting can get you. Tends to throw people off track when they threaten you and then you can butter them up from there to win them over. Flirting came in surprisingly handy for my job, I'll have you know."

"You're yanking on my roots."

Frisk shot him an amused look before finally dropping the other boot to the floor. "I promise you, I'm not. Besides, it worked, didn't it?" They yawned loudly, jaw popping, and then frowned down at their gloves before deciding to leave them on—even in the warmth of the room, the chill still lingered in their hands.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I guess it did." He grimaced. "Ugh, I'd hate to think that all this time I could have gotten out of so much trouble by flirting. Ew, you know what, I think I'd rather die and deal with all that than flirt with some of the monsters around here—your murderous skeleton included."

"Okay, Judgey McJudgerson, supposed attraction or not to murderous skeletons, I need to go to sleep now." Kicking their feet off the ground, they swung their legs up off the floor before pausing to glance over at him again. "Um, before I get comfy, is there anything I can do for you? Look for a flower pot, perhaps?"

He scowled. "Don't even think of putting me in one of those deathtraps. At least like this, I could drag myself out of here and to the ground just fine, thank you."

"I take it that means you don't need anything then?"

"I'll live."

"If you're sure," they chirped and wiggled under the covers. "Goodnight, Flowey."

The flower was silent for a moment as he let himself flop against the tabletop. They reached up and switched off the lamp beside the bed. The room plunged into darkness—Snowdin was silent as a tomb and nearly as dark. With the lights off, they said a silent prayer that Flowey didn't have night vision and yanked off their shirt before also pulling off the binder they'd been wearing under it. It smelled strongly of sweat, but there was no sink to wash it in, so they set it aside, frowning at the idea of how much it was probably going to reek by the time they got out of the Underground. Well, I've dealt with a lot worse than smelly binders, they thought, idly running their fingers against the dimple in the side. They shrugged their shirt back on and flopped back against the bed. Laying there in the pitch black of the room, Frisk cleared their throat.

"Hey, Flowey—thanks, by the way. It, uh, it might look easy, but really, you saved my life more than a couple times today. I'm really glad you're here."

Flowey stayed quiet for so long, Frisk gave up on expecting an answer. And yet, one finally came anyway. "We aren't friends, you know. I'm just helping you because I don't want to see anyone else die."

Frisk's lips twitched and they closed their eyes. "Thanks all the same, Flowey."

In the quiet dark, Flowey sighed. "Goodnight, Frisk."

Hours passed, but it was hard to tell when night ended and morning began in the Underground. It was the faint sounds of movement below that woke Frisk. Sitting up, they rubbed sleep from their eyes and stretched. Their phone said it was two in afternoon, but they had no idea if time even ran at the same rate in this world as it did in their home. Still, it sounded about right, so Frisk didn't fuss before turning to look around.

Flowey was still asleep, but he'd moved from the end table to being curled up against their side. Frisk smiled down at him before gently prodding him. "Morning, sunshine. How we feeling this morning?"

Flowey groaned, but crawled into their hand as soon as they offered him their open palm. "Surprisingly alive, all things considered. About eight o'clock this morning, the innkeeper came into this room while you were asleep."

Frisk froze, a chill going up their spine—that wasn't just creepy for a monster innkeeper, they'd be weirded out if a human one entered their room as they were sleeping then too. How on earth did she get past the locks? Magic maybe? She was the owner. For a moment, they imagined they heard their mother's voice suggest maybe she has a skeleton key.

Eh, that was kind of a lame pun, especially for mom. "What the hell was she doing in here?"

"I dunno—I thought she was going to kill us for being late to check out, but then she only checked the thermostat before leaving again." He sighed. "I was terrified for a moment there."

Well, shit, she could have killed me in a heartbeat and there'd be nothing I could have done. How the hell am I going to get through this place when I can't even sleep in an inn without having to worry about monsters getting into my room? Shaking their head, Frisk decided to ignore their own fright by teasing Flowey. "Oh, so is that why you're in my bed? You mean it wasn't my endearing charm and dashing good looks having finally won you over?"

Flowey shot them a flat look as he gripped their shirt with his roots again. "Surprisingly, no. Now, come on—the sooner we get out of Snowdin the better."

Better to get out of here before Papyrus changes his mind and decides that he'd rather turn me in than let me live, Frisk added mentally as they fished their boots out of the floor and dragged them over. "Hey, boss, mind closing your eyes for a minute? I'll let you know when you can open them."

Flowey frowned at them. "Why?"

"Cause I need to get dressed and I'd appreciate a little privacy."

Flowey sighed, but he dropped his face back down into the mattress. "I don't know what else you need to put on. Do you have a change of clothes somewhere?"

"Something like that," they chirped as they yanked their shirt off and pulled their binder back on. It smelled, but less so than before and it was dry. They fixed it in place, and then put their shirt back on. "Okay, you can look now."

He glanced back up at them and frowned. "You're still wearing the same clothes?"

They laughed. "Not exactly. You want some water before we leave?"

He considered it and nodded. "Yeah, might as well."

After getting ready and getting the two of them water, Frisk left the room and handed their key in to the innkeeper before quickly shuffling out of the inn. They kept their hood up today to try and hide their face, but all the same, the moment a monster heard their approach, they scattered and fled. Frisk would have been annoyed if the fact was that monsters did that for every new person that crossed their path—it would have been funny to watch monsters scramble away from each other like scared emu if it wasn't so sad.

With a sigh, Frisk glanced to the shop outside the inn. "Should we stop in there, see if we can get some cheap supplies?"

"Don't bother," Flowey huffed. "This entire place is overpriced."

Frisk rolled their eyes. Of course it was. It'd be too convenient otherwise. They considered stopping into Grillby's, half to see how changed it was, but the guards tended to hang out in there and they didn't want to try to push their luck that much. Walking through Snowdin, they frowned at the states of the homes and buildings around them—the buildings were smaller, reinforced by traps and thick walls, and cramped looking, like turtles pulling into the shells. There were very few windows in any of the buildings and they got the feeling that the only reason there were windows at all was a precaution from things like house fires.

When they walked past Sans and Papyrus's home, they nearly walked past it without a second. Then they did a double take and scrambled backward. It was definitely in the same spot as the house in the other world, but it was only a shadow of that house. Gone was the cheery twinkling lights and decorations, the warm glow coming from the front windows. There was no balcony, nor even the same wooden siding—instead it was severe cinderblocks, neatly stacked and unpainted. The only thing similar besides the location and general shape was the two mailboxes out front, although in this world they were both neat and empty—Sans had always been too lazy to actually get his mail, but maybe this Papyrus made Sans do it. It fit the image of tall skeleton, even if he was kinder than originally expected. I wonder where he learned healing moves—even my Papyrus doesn't know how to do that. I should tell him about it. It'd probably tickle him to death to know that there's a Papyrus out there who knew such a 'cool' technique.

There were no lights on inside the house, but Frisk wasn't sure that meant that neither skeleton was home or that neither liked to leave lights on. It left the house looking sullen and mistrustful. But what if it was lit up? Would I really want to go in and talk to them? Their lips thinned out to a flat line as they rolled the question over in their mind. Yes, they decided after a moment, I would—maybe I could find out what made them like they are, see how similar they are to my friends.

"You… you really aren't the right Frisk at all."

They frowned again. That and figure out just what Sans seems to know. What was that supposed to mean anyway?

"Frisk?" Flowey asked, shaking them from their thoughts. "You okay?"

"Fine. I'm fine," they answered, turning away from the house. "Just lost in thought. C'mon, let's get out of here and head somewhere warmer."

"Fine by me," he chirped back.

Glancing back one last time at the house, Frisk started walking again. Leaving Snowdin behind, they followed the familiar river and curiously noted that there were still chunks of ice floating down the river. Maybe that meant that the Core, of all places, would still be the same. It was a funny thought.

A small cloud of fog crawled up from the bank of the river, obscuring Frisk's vision, but there was no Papyrus waiting for them on the other side. They weren't sure how they were supposed to feel about that. Instead, they kept walking.

Warmth crept over them almost before they knew what was happening. One moment they shivered in the damp chill, the next they were unzipping their sweatshirt to wrap it around their waist. Around them, snow melted fast, creating waterfalls that vanished down into ponds or the ever swift rivers.

"Welcome to Waterfall," Flowey said, nearly cheerful.

Frisk smiled at him. "I take it that you like this place better than Snowdin."

"Not really," he said in the same tone as before. "It's actually easier to hide in Snowdin, as long as I stay under the snow. And the guards aren't so bad, if you know their schedules so you can avoid them. No, in Waterfall, there's only one guard and she's enough to offset any bonus Waterfall has. It just has much better weather."

Frisk sighed. "You can be a real downer sometimes, bud."

"Yeah, well, them's the breaks. Life sucks, then you die or something."

"Maybe. But not today."

"Well," he conceded. "Not if we can help it."

Frisk laughed at that. "Better. We might actually make an optimist out of you yet."

"Doubt it. Now keep walking. The less time we waste around here, the better chance we have of staying unnoticed."

"Whatever you say, boss."

Walking forward, they turned the corner and Frisk almost tripped over their own feet. There was a familiar, surprisingly shabby looking sentry station on one side of the path. Inside, Sans sat, looking haggard and like he was nursing a headache. No one lingered by his station, surprisingly—in their world, monsters always used to hang out near his stations, usually talking to him or trying out whatever new food item he was trying to hustle. Now he was alone and Frisk could only stare at him.

"Oh no," Flowey squeaked, ducking behind their shoulder. "Just try to avoid him and don't do anything dumb."

Frisk shot him a look and started walking forward—straight towards the station. "I've got questions for him."

"Frisk, no."

"You mean Frisk, yes."

Sans hadn't noticed them yet, so they politely knocked against the side post of the station. He started then groaned, closing his eyes again as he rubbed his skull before finally opening one eye. His eye landed on them at last and he went very still.

"Afternoon," they said, politely keeping their voice soft out consideration for his head troubles.

That seemed to snap him out of it; he let his hand fall to the countertop of the station with a dull thud. "You're still alive?"

Frisk couldn't help, but snort. "Thought you could get rid of me so easily?"

"My brother chased you through the woods. Papyrus never lets anyone off the hook unless for a damn good reason. And I know he's not dead, cause he made a god awful racket this morning when he got up."

"Well, you're right. I definitely didn't kill your brother."

Sans kept staring. "And yet, you're still here. I was sure you were dead."

"You know, with a vote of confidence like that, you could really overwhelm a person," they shot back, sending him a flat look as they leaned their hip against the station's front.

He chuckled then winced, reaching up to grab his head again. "Ow."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm… fine. Just a little hungover."

Frisk raised a brow. "Skeletons can get hangovers?"

"Well, if it's monster liquor they're drinking, yeah," he drawled, slouching against the counter of the station as he cradled his head.

"What were you doing that prompted you to drink until you got a hangover?"

"Oh, just a regular night on the town." He scratched his jaw idly with his free hand; the gesture was unsettlingly familiar. If he was anything like the Sans they'd known, it meant he was lying and badly at that. Still, they thought better at trying to press him on it. "Speaking of Snowdin, how'd you like your stay there?"

Frisk kept their shrug noncommittal. "Surprisingly quiet, all things considered. No one said a word to me the entire time."

"Yeah, that sounds about right. Snowdin's full of gun-shy assholes. They're not the type to welcome outsiders, especially ones that don't look like any other monster they've ever seen."

"Should I be insulted that they didn't enjoy my good looks?" Frisk chirped.

"No, no. It's just the fate of the naturally beautiful people to be unappreciated, babe," he quipped, gesturing to his own haggard face.

Rather than be annoyed by his sarcasm or the shot he took at himself, Frisk made a show of tittering. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"I think you're damn lucky, that's what I think."

They considered him. "Why's that?"

"You're alive. How did you manage that?"

"Again, I'm really feeling the support here." They shrugged. "Did Papyrus not tell you what happened?"

He glanced away for a moment. "That asshole never tells me anything. Well, nothing actually useful."

Frisk considered him for a moment. So, the interaction between the two brothers probably wasn't some sort of fluke brought on by their appearance in the Underground. Papyrus was nasty to everyone, including Sans. The thought broke their heart and they found they couldn't look at Sans for a moment as the idea rolled around their brain. Sans and Papyrus—they were a pair, brothers and best of friends. The idea that there was another world out there—or really, right here—where that statement wasn't true made their stomach churn. "We had ourselves a little chase, mostly. He ran after me, I got through some of his traps. He almost caught me, but I ran off and then he nearly fell off a cliff."

Sans's head jerked up. Was that concern in his face or something else? "What?"

"There was some ice hidden under the snow. He stepped on it and started to tilt right off the cliff in front of me. So, I grabbed him."

Sans was staring again, but this time he narrowed his eyes at them. "You saved my brother?"

"Well, I wasn't going to let him fall off a cliff, if that's what you're wondering."

Sans scoffed. "I would have."

"Sans! He's your brother," Frisk snapped before they could catch themselves. "You shouldn't say things like that."

"Screw that. I'll say whatever I want about him. I'm noting but a headache to him and he's nothing but a pain in my ass. I am the one who has to deal with him the most." He glanced at them sidelong. "I've had to put up with that asshole for years."

Frisk straightened from where they were leaning and took a few steps closer to him before putting a hand against the counter to brace themselves. "He can't have always been such a hassle for you. Can he?"

The lights in Sans' eye sockets dimmed for a moment. "Eh. He wasn't so bad as a kid. Actually, he'd been a cute little bugger as a baby. Bout the time he turned five though, that's when it all went downhill."

Frisk's frown deepened. "What happened?"

Sans shrugged and gestured carelessly to the scenery around them. "What do you think? This shitty place happened. Life happened. It chewed him out and spat out a jerk, just like it does everything around here. It's no joke when people say 'it's kill or be killed'. Everyone's always fighting around here."

"I'm not fighting," Frisk offered. "Why, we aren't fighting at all right now."

He shot them a sidelong look. "Give it time."

"That's a cheerful attitude to carry in life."

"I don't want to hear any such bullshit from anyone with-" he paused and squinted at them. Frisk raised a brow, but the skeleton remained quiet for a long time until his face slackened. To their surprise, his jaw fell slightly open.

Whoa. I thought his mouth was fused shut like Sans back home. That is… so weird looking. To distract themselves from their surprise, they cleared their throat pointedly. "You, uh, you okay there, Sans?"

He blinked at them. "Your LOVE is still at one?"

Now it was their turn to blink owlishly. "My—well, uh, yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

"You… haven't killed anyone?"

They shot him a flat look. "If I didn't kill Papyrus who chased me almost all the way to Snowdin, what makes you think I killed anyone else? I know it's all 'kill or be killed' around here, but I'd much rather 'live and let live'."

He braced a hand against his forehead. "You are… really just… absurd."

Flowey huffed a laugh and whispered against the back of their neck. "I can't believe I'm agreeing with this psycho, but he's right about you."

Ignoring the jab, Frisk just smiled and shrugged. "I usually get 'something real special', but I guess absurd is more to the point. Still doesn't say I'm wrong though. You were wrong about me—don't you think that means there's at least a slim chance that your attitude about this is wrong too?"

He snorted. "Look, my attitude's kept me not dead all these years, so I'd say it's working out pretty well for me, thanks."

Frisk tilted their head to the side. "Even with Papyrus?"

He paused, his smile looking deader than ever. "Papyrus doesn't bother to fight me. He knows he'd kill me in an instant if he wanted." He looked away. "We both know that."

Frisk allowed a moment of thoughtful silence before speaking again. "But if you're brother is really such an asshole, then why not kill you?"

"Because I'm still useful. Once a day comes along that I'm not… Well, I don't need to see the future to know how that'll all go down."

"You're so sure he hates you," Frisk rested their free hand against their hip. "But trust me, no 'headache' is so useful as to justify keeping them around for years on end."

Sans shifted on his stool, the shadows moving across his skull quickly as he went. It was only a moment, but the movement betrayed that they'd managed to annoy him. "And just who are you, some therapist?"

Time for damage control. "Me? Oh, I'm just stranger in a strange land, that sort of thing. Although, I'm told I'm beautiful, so maybe I should say a beautiful stranger." They winked at him as playfully as they could manage.

To their surprise, he chuckled. "Egotist."

"Just repeating what I'd heard," they replied, bowing their head demurely.

"Right." He shook his head at them. "You must have saved Paps' life—you're too damn mouthy to have gotten into his good graces any other way. He'd rather have killed you in a heartbeat than put up with you."

"Are you mad that I didn't let Papyrus fall?"

He put his head in his hands. "It wouldn't have killed him. He's too stubborn to let a little fall kill him."

"That's… a lot of faith to put into a person and their abilities, isn't it?"

"I told you," he growled, pulling his head back out of his hands. "He's just too stubborn to die."

Rather than try to prod him again, they reached into their pocket and offered him their bag of monster candies, noting their disappointment with the fact that the bag was considerably lighter than it had been yesterday morning. They would need to find someone selling health restoring items soon. "Here. For your headache."

He gave the bag an unimpressed look before turning his gaze up to them. "Do you honestly think I'm going to accept candy from a stranger?"

In spite of themselves, they had to smile. "Do we count as strangers at this point?"

"Well, we aren't friends. Put it away."

"Suit yourself."

"Shouldn't you be running along now, anyways?" he drawled as they tucked the bag back into their pockets. "The king's waiting for you."

"So quick to get me gone, huh? C'mon, I thought you knew how to relax." They grinned at him. "Know any good jokes?"

Sans turned his head towards them, his smile malicious and mischievous at the same time. "Okay, babe, I got a one for you. What's the difference between a turkey and a mother-in-law?"

"What?" Flowey asked, staring at the skeleton from behind the safety of Frisk's shoulder.

Shrugging, Frisk turned to him. "I dunno. Tell me."

"Nothing. They're both at their best when they're cold on the table."

Frisk paused for a moment, gazing at him silently for a moment while Flowey gagged. Finally, they spoke. "What's worse than a pile of dead babies?"

Sans froze while Flowey gasped loudly. "Uh, what?"

They looked at him with a deadly serious expression. "The live one at the bottom that has to eat its way to the top."

"Frisk!" Flowey shouted.

"What's worse than that?"

Sans leaned in, entranced. "What?"

"It going back for seconds."

"Oh my god! Frisk, that's horrible!" Flowey cried.

Sans looked like Frisk had given him an early Christmas present. "A man is in a serious accident and wakes up in a hospital. He shouts 'doctor, help! I can't feel my legs!' The doctor says 'I know. I amputated your arms'."

The human's lips twitched, but they barely kept their face poker straight. "A man and a young child walk into the woods. The kid says 'gee, mister, it's sure scary in here.' So, the man says 'if you're scared, think of how I feel. I have to walk out of here alone'."

Flowey made a strangled noise of disgust.

Sans, on the other hand, sat on his stool, staring up at them until his shoulders started to shake. Seeing the motion, Frisk's own shoulders shook and they had to bite their lip. Finally, it was the skeleton who broke first and began to howl with laughter. The moment he laughed, Frisk lost their control and began to laugh as well, grabbing the station for support.

"You think you know a person," Flowey grumbled as Frisk finally caught their breath.

They opened their mouth to respond, but then their attention was drawn back to Sans who was groaning and clutching his head again, even as he chuckled. "You okay?"

"Laughing may not have been the best idea with my headache," he admitted. "Ugh, I'm just going to lay my head down now."

Frisk chuckled then paused, glancing at him again. Without thinking, they reached out to him. Before their hand got anywhere close, a ring of bones hovered around them while Sans tilted his head up, fixing his angry red eye on them.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Quietly, Frisk pointed at his hood. "There's something in your hood. I was just going to get it for you."

"Oh, really?" he drawled, but glanced to where they were pointing. He froze as he caught sight of the offending object, indeed lodged into the fur of his hood. Silently, he reached up and plucked a yellow flower petal from it. After a moment of consideration, he flicked it away to land on the ground before the sentry station. The ring of bones vanished as he shifted reluctantly away from them. "Uh. Thanks."

Cautiously, Frisk settled back to where they'd been leaning against the station before. "Yeah." The mood was thoroughly awkward now and it was partially their fault. Clearing their throat, they glanced pointedly at the petal. "Been doing a little gardening?"

He snorted. "No. I just keep finding the damn things everywhere. It like someone stuffed them in all my pockets or some shit."

"Mm," they murmured noncommittally. "Maybe a prank?"

"Shitty ass prank if you ask me." He grumbled and shifted on his stool. "You know what, my headache's not going to get any better in this damp. I'm heading to Hotland."

They weren't sure why he felt the need to announce this to them, but it felt surprisingly promising. They stepped back from his station with a nod. "Alright. Hope your head feels better soon."

He waved them off. "I'll live."

"I hope so. See you around, Sans."

He glanced up at them and nodded after a pause. "Yeah. See you."

Without looking back, they waved over their shoulder to him as they left the area, the talk leaving them with a renewed sense of determination.

"What with was all that junk?" Flowey asked, waspishly as soon as they walked out of earshot, the waterfall drowning out all noise.

Frisk frowned at the coursing river—the waters were moving faster here than they had back in their own world, which seemed like a strange deviance, but who were they to decide what was normal for their situation? "Be more specific, please. Jeez, those rocks sure are moving fast. Think they'll knock me down if I get hit?"

"Probably. And I'm talking all that—that—you know! The awful jokes, trying to talk him around to his brother, the flirting—good god, the flirting! What, do you have something for skeletons?"

They barked a laugh before they could help themselves. Covering their mouth, they hoped that the rushing water had covered the noise up. "Uh, no. I… look, it's complicated. I have a thing for… people. Certain personalities. I like them whether they're humans or monsters." They paused and then grinned. "Which, I suppose, would cover skeletons."

"Ugh."

"Although, monsters around here are tad… stabby, if you catch my drift." With a sigh, they reached down and pulled off their shoes, then their socks. Tucking their socks into their boots, they tied the strings together and rolled up their pant legs as high as they would go. "Watch out, I need to put my boots around my neck. I don't want to walk around with wet feet again all day if I can help it."

Flowey shifted for them, but still grumbled as they looped their shoelaces over their neck. "Well, at least you're not crazy enough to date a murderous monster. Although, that does sum up pretty much every monster here. Doesn't leave many to date."

"You know, you're always talking about crazy this, crazy that, like it's a bad thing."

"It is."

They paused at the edge of the water to frown back at him, all levity gone from their face. "Mental illness doesn't make someone a bad person. Human or not. It's not like they can help it."

Flowey frowned and shifted uncomfortably. "What does it matter if they can't help it? They're still dangerous."

"Mentally ill people aren't dangerous," Frisk sighed, putting one foot in the water. "At least not inherently. People under stress can be though, and they'll try to protect themselves."

"I'll remember that the next time one of them tries to kill me."

Frisk nearly stopped walking in the middle of the water to face him properly, but a swiftly moving group of rocks surging down the river made them scramble across to the other side. As they climbed out, they took a moment to catch their breath before glancing at him. "Alright, be a jerk. That's your choice, but I'm not impressed with you."

He groaned, tossing his head back like a child. "Ugh, fiiiiine. What can I say, o master?"

Frisk bit their lip to keep from snapping at him. I gotta start remembering that no matter helpful he is or how much comfort his being here brings me, Flowey's still soulless AND he's still just a kid mentally. I'm probably expecting too much of him already. Getting ahead of myself. Taking a deep breath, they distracted themselves by checking their legs and feet for any cuts or bruises they may not have felt in the chilly water. "How about 'nonsensical'? A place can be nonsensical, but it can't be mentally ill."

Flowey made a sound like he was sighing through his nose, which was quite the trick since he didn't even have a nose. "Fine. Then this place, these monsters, you—it's all nonsense!" He paused, mulling the words over. "Eh, I guess it does fit. A little."

In spite of themselves, Frisk had to smile as they straightened from their examination. "See? It isn't so bad."

"Yeah, well, don't think I'm going to go bending over backwards to protect your feelings. We aren't friends."

"Yes, you said that before."

"Fine."

Frisk's lips twitched. "You said that before too."

"UGH."

"And you said that-"

"I know what I said!"

Frisk laughed and started walking forward. "Okay, okay. I'll stop."

"You better."

Grinning, they glanced up to see his stern look and had to fight not to laugh out right. Smothering a chuckle, they tried to focus on not stepping on any sharp rocks.

The ground changed to soft, forgiving sand as they walked on, turning muddy as they neared a river. Looking around at the scenery brought up old nostalgic feelings. This area of Waterfall seemed pleasant enough. They'd always liked Waterfall—despite the damp, it was never too hot or cold, and had some of their favorite vistas in the entire Underground. They were running their hand through the tall sea grass that rose up to their chest when movement across the river made them duck.

"What are you-?" Flowey began.

Frisk hushed him. "Someone's on the other side of the river."

"Did they see you?"

Squinting between the stalks of sea grass and through the dim light, Frisk frowned. "I don't think so. Best to be quiet though."

They sat silently in the grass, waiting until a figure emerged from the shadows. Frisk nearly bit their tongue at the odd, but still familiar looking armor clad person on the far shore. Undyne, Captain of the Royal Guard, surveyed the river, turning their head to gaze down along the banks until another figure walked up as well.

"Papyrus," Flowey murmured into their ear. Frisk nodded and listened.

Sitting there, memories resurfaced—the conversation, or rather Papyrus's half of the conversation as his voice was the one carrying over the sound of the water, wasn't that different from the one they heard in their youth. Undyne was definitely looking for a human and Papyrus was promising to help. He made no attempt to talk her out of looking either, leaving Frisk to wonder if he'd regretted his decision to let them go yesterday. Finally, they wrapped up the conversation and left, walking back into the shadows together.

Only once they were completely sure the two monsters were gone, Frisk stood, gazing out over the water to where they'd been standing.

"This isn't good," Flowey murmured and shivered.

Without a thought, Frisk's hand reached up to stroke his petals gently. "No. It isn't. We're going to need to be extra careful from now on." They shot him a pleading smile. "Which means we should probably keep as quiet as possible."

Flowey nodded.

Patting his petals one last time, Frisk turned and walked out of the patch of sea grass. They kept their silence for awhile, Frisk quietly solving the bridge seed puzzles with little effort. Once their feet began to dry, they dusted off the bottoms of their soles and put their boots back on, resigning themselves to the fact that they were just going to have to take them off again later.

The only thing to give them pause was the Wish Room. The beautiful sparkling stones in the ceiling thrilled them for a moment, so they stopped to admire them—while the stones couldn't hold a candle to the stars, they were still lovely. Walking forward, however, prompted the echo flowers to speak. Frisk shuddered at the voices that came from a thick knot of flowers.

"Oh, please, send another human soul to us soon! I can't wait to get out of here!"

"I hope another human falls in soon. Then I can take their soul and escape the barrier. Damn the rest of you, I'll be free all on my own."

"I only want to get away from here. Once we kill the humans, we'll all be free on the other side."

"If we escape and kill the humans, we'll be safe won't we? I hope we escape soon!"

"Damn cowards, all of you. The next human that falls down here, I'm ripping their soul out of their body and then I'll steal Asgore's souls too. Then no one can stop me. Both worlds will be mine then."

"People around here seriously need a better hobby," Flowey grumbled.

Frisk nodded with a pained face as they winced while another series of flowers began to speak, repeating a conversation where a young child wished that their old sister would die so they wouldn't have to obey her anymore and then a much older voice offering to kill her for them.

"You know," Flowey began as Frisk hurried away from the distressing record of the conversation, heading north to the next room. "I think you should put your sweatshirt back on and put your hood up. Undyne's the worst monster here. She's the one we have to worry about for now."

"Sounds like a plan," Frisk murmured, eagerly undoing the knot at the waist and slipping the garment back on. They flipped the hood up as they entered the historical record room; Flowey crawled out of their hood to keep an eye out.

They finally ran into another monster after they walked out onto the docks. Woshua darted out of the cattails, but threatening to rub their muddy boots on him sent him scampering back away.

"Lame idiot," Flowey muttered.

"Maybe, but it only helps us," Frisk shot back as they stepped onto a raft that sent them across the waters.

Shadows in the next room made the hairs stand up on the back of Frisk's neck. There were columns lining the backs of the river north of them, but Frisk could see nothing in the shadows. Walking down the bridge wound all of Frisk's nerves up until they were ready to jump out of their skin and bolt, but nothing happened. No figures emerged from the shadows, no spears came flying through the air to cut them down. Leaving the bridges and walking into another patch of sea grass seemed more of a letdown than a relief. Frisk glanced at Flowey and saw that he looked just as nervous as they did; reaching up, they tried to pat his head reassuringly, but it only made him jump and snarl at them. Smiling apologetically, Frisk started walking again.

They cautiously moved through Waterfall. Aside from a few encounters, Waterfall was surprisingly peaceful. Finally, as they walked along the glowing still waters Frisk had to speak. "You know, aside from that one time back there, I haven't heard so much as a peep from our, uh, friend in the armor."

Flowey grimaced, suspiciously eyeing an echo flower as they passed; it repeated a grim snarl from a monster in its death throes, so Frisk walked faster. "I noticed. I can't tell if that means they're up to something or not."

Frisk considered it. "Neither very big on planning?"

"No—well, Papyrus likes to make plans from what I can tell, but he doesn't always follow through on them. Undyne… well, she's persistent but not very… um, patient. That's what's weird. If she really wanted to attack you, she probably would have done it by now. So, unless Undyne is really pulling out the stops, it'd be more likely that she'd have attacked by now."

"Weird," Frisk said, more in agreement than anything else. "So, now we have a mystery on our hands. At least it'll probably solve itself in due time."

Flowey sighed. "Probably. Try to be on guard. We have no idea when they'll show up, but trust me, when they do, it'll be bad."

Frisk mulled over the flower's words as they walked into the next room. They weren't honestly sure what Papyrus's plan was—maybe he did regret saving them or maybe he was trying to keep Undyne away from them. They honestly didn't have enough information to make a guess.

Undyne though, that was the bigger problem. Even in their world, she'd been awfully stab happy. What kind of terrifying she-beast would she be in this world? What would they do if she refused to accept mercy or let them go?

One thing was sure. Frisk was pretty damn certain that once they did meet, they were due one very bad time.