A-n-B: Ready for more? Good cause I've got some.

Part 2: Where Did the Party Go?

...

There was a loud ringing in the young woman's ears and suddenly she was bolting up in bed, sheets and comforter flying off her shoulders and torso.

She was huffing and panting heavily, greedily gasping for air. She couldn't get enough.

The ringing continued, a loud cacophony that echoed in her brain. She not so gently slammed a hand down on her alarm clock.

Finally, relief.

But only for a moment. The house phone began ringing instead and it was all the way downstairs in the kitchen.

With an aggravated grunt, Frisk stood from bed and stomped her way to the phone, old floor creaking in protest with each footfall. The phone was hastily answered, "Yes? Hello?"

It was her manager, apparently they had tried to call her in to cover a shift last night but couldn't get ahold of her, which was so unlike the usually reliable Frisk that they wanted to make sure that she'd be coming in today.

Frisk gave a short affirmative answer, telling the woman on the other end that she'd see them soon.

Frisk placed the device back on the receiver, still shaken, still only dimly aware of what was going on around her.

Had it all been a dream?

It would make sense, a magical circus in the middle of nowhere.

Too good to be true in all honesty.

But she could still feel pins in her limbs from the white hot energy that had consumed her before she had been abruptly woken, Sans' words still echoing in her ears.

She stood, lost in thought. She didn't remember getting home, setting an alarm, or going to bed. Had she gone to the town hall yesterday? Had she told them in the kindness way possible to screw off?

Had it really only been a dream.

Frisk snapped out of her contemplation, she had to get ready for work.

Dragging herself back up to her bedroom, she darted straight to the dresser for her usual ritual of getting ready, opting for some cut off overalls and sweater tights among the rest. However, when she went to grab her locket it wasn't there.

'Crap', she thought, quickly bending down to check under the furniture, searching frantically for it. She was going to be late if she didn't hurry up.

Frisk thoroughly checked her bathroom, the kitchen, the bowl of knicknacks by the front door but to no avail. She was out of time.

Mildly irritated, she tugged on her ankle boots, grabbing her keys, wallet, and phone before heading out the door.

She opted for biking to work since time was limited, throwing her right leg over the teal bike that had been waiting for her against the porch. Pedaling was a strain at first until she hit the paved road, she picked up her pace.

A light feeling of trepidation filled her as she approached the river bridge, but she passed over it without a problem.

Frisk felt something akin to disappointment though she wasn't sure why.

With a final look back at the bridge she continued pedaling into town, soft wind whipping her chestnut hair around her face.

...

Work was busy. Besides the regulars, there had to have been some sort of tour bus in town, people seemed to be overly eager for their own slice of the Diner's famed 'Southern Hospitality'. Frisk couldn't get people out of there fast enough.

Even her manager was on the floor today, helping to clear tables and serve orders. Frisk was busy ringing up an order behind the counter, her manager filling a shake glass besides her.

"Make sure you take a break soon, you're due for one," the woman commented, Frisk humming a small sound of agreement.

"Just let me finish with this customer real quick and I'll go- thanks for coming!-" the exit door chimed as a sweet older couple left which caused Frisk to call out the required parting words. Several other bodies made there way into the establishment.

"Feel free to grab a seat folks, we'll be with you shortly." Frisk heard the assisting female call out as the brown haired girl ran the now printed receipt and change she had been getting back to its owner.

As they left Frisk's busboy quickly hit the table, she helped him stack the used plates and cups before leaving him to tend to the rest.

Grabbing a few menus off the counter she went to help the guests that had straddled up to the bar, a practiced "Anything to drink?" or "Can I get you started with some coffee?" Passing her lips as she handed a laminated sheet over to each one, making her way down the line.

She then turned to the drink station behind her, preparing another hot pot of coffee and filling out the other orders.

Frisk was a blurry of efficient movements, handing drinks out, getting any scraps of trash or finished plates and cups out of the way, taking down orders and handing out dishes as they left the kitchen.

That is until she heard a voice come from the end of the bar, "can a guy get some ketchup over here?"

Frisk nearly dropped the plate in her hand.

It was Sans.

She was frozen, his piercing blue eyes were on her, this almost cocky grin on his face.

Was this happening?

Should she run? Should she hide? They hadn't exactly parted on civil terms.

She had to be delusional, maybe she did need a break.

Finally collecting herself, she delivered the plate of food to the according patron and made her way over to the grinning man, grabbing a red bottle from behind the counter.

He gazed at her lazily. Obviously he wasn't going to attack.

"...H-how..." She placed the bottle in front of him, carefully deliberate in case he tried anything, "How are you here?"

"oh man, what a question, how are any of us here really?" He seemed immensely pleased with himself.

Frisk didn't let down her guard, but her hands were shaking.

She clenched her hands tight to still them, her jaw set. She glanced over to where her superior was busily assisting other guests, not paying attention to the exchange.

Good.

"You need to leave," Frisk said sternly.

He gave a small laugh, eyes twinkling with delight. "you gonna make me kid?"

"If I have to." Though she had no clue as to how she would do that exactly. She had seen his power, felt it coursing through her veins.

Sans only looked more delighted, "i ain't here to cause trouble, cool your jets."

"Then go," Frisk didn't relax, "ple-."

She was stunned into silence. Sans brought his elbow to the counter, hand splayed to display the shinning locket that had been absent this morning.

"Locking for this?" Sans asked condescendingly.

Now was not the time for bad puns.

"Give that back," her tone had shifted to pleading in no time flat.

"what's the rush? i thought we could ketchup..." He pulled his hand away as Frisk made a grab for it.

She was definitely flustered, aggravated beyond her normal capacity not to mention filled with an underlying fear of the man before her.

"You," She quickly pulled on the knot behind her waist that was holding up her apron, "outside."

Sans let out a humored 'yes ma'am' already going to leave.

Frisk alerted her manager that she would be taking her break, the woman nodded in understanding.

She quickly made it outside and only took a second to appreciate the fresh air before she turned towards the back where she assumed Sans had gone since he wasn't in her line of vision.

Frisk was pissed. Nothing was making sense and she didn't like it. Her life was peaceful, everything had its place and right now nothing was.

Sans turned to her as she rounded the corner, and she walked straight up to him to get in his face, magic be damned. "The hell is wrong with you?!"

"oh kid you do not want to open that can of worms," he snarkily replied. More fuel to the fire.

"Stop evading the conversation. Are you going to give me back my locket or not? What even happened? Did you take it? I've never seen you before in my life and now you're here? What? Didn't terrify me enough yesterday?!"

Those last words had an affect. Sans' habitual smile faltered the minutest of bits.

Frisk could feel her anger slowly quell, she had burned off some steam.

There was a silence between them, Sans' gaze was averted seemingly... ashamed?

"i need your help," he finally said, holding the locket out for her to take which she did hastily.

She opened it to make sure the picture was still inside, which it was, Chara, her mother, and herself smiling up at her from the small frame. There was no damage to it at all. A small wave of relief went through her as she put the accessory around her neck and into her shirt.

Frisk let out a sigh, looking back to Sans who was eyeing her with a wariness that almost made her uncomfortable.

Though how much more uncomfortable she could be at this point she didn't know.

"Thank you," She eventually responded.

Sans looked definitively shocked. She would have laughed if the situation wasn't so awkward. "what? what for?"

"For giving it back, obviously," she gave a soft, albeit forced, smile.

Sans returned it with the utmost sincerity and somehow it dissipated any fear that was still lingering in her subconscious.

"So...," Frisk tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, "how can I help."

And somehow the two of them fell into a lighthearted conversation.

"chara, where is she?"

Oh, sorry no, not lighthearted. Life altering.

"What?" Frisk was in shock, "How do you know my sister?" How the tables had turned, what a small world.

"that's not important. where is she?" He was firm, not threatening, not intimidating, just blatant curiosity.

Frisk gaped, but quickly composed herself, "I have no clue."

Sans rolled his blue eyes, "that's not helpful at all. don't make me pull out the big boy gloves kiddo."

Frisk pouted, crossing her arms defensively over her chest, "Honest. I haven't seen or heard from her in years."

The taller male eyed her momentarily, before letting out an aggravated sigh, hand ruffling his white hair. "well that was not what I was hoping for."

The female gave an apologetic shrug of her thin shoulders, "Sorry."

He let out a small laugh, "what for? i'm the one who should apologize."

Frisk was surprised, "Why?"

He quirked a brow, "oh ya know, attacking you, stealing your belongings. it's quite the wrap sheet."

Hazel eyes rolled, "We'll put it past us somehow."

Sans gave a half hearted shrug, "guess we'll have to wait and see. sorry to bother you kid, i'm headed back." He had already begun walking away before Frisk could say anything.

He stopped a couple steps later, turning back to her, "i... i may have overreacted yesterday and for that i'm...," Sans appeared to be struggling with his words, a small blush across his cheeks and eyes barely making contact with the shorter girl, "i'm truly sorry."

He let out a light laugh, right hand gesturing dismissively, "water under the bridge?"

Frisk gave a reassuring smile which caused Sans to blush a little deeper, "Sure, clean slate."

"see you around," and with the blink of an eye the white haired male vanished.

Frisk stood alone, somewhat bemused before she snapped out of it, huge satisfied smile gracing her lips.

It had been real. She wasn't insane.

A relieved breath, she felt like a weight had been lifted.

Figuring that her allotted fifteen minutes were up, she turned to head back into work.

Bracing for more mealtime chaos, Frisk took in one final lungful of the crisp spring air before pushing the entrance door aside.

Looking up from the ground though she was beyond shocked to see what was before her.

Everything and everyone was completely frozen. No one was moving, there was no buzz of chatter, clinking of spoons being stirred, no oil crackling on the hot stoves in the kitchen.

It was almost as if time itself had stopped progressing.

Frisk bolted out of there like her heels were on fire.

It must've been Sans, why else would something like this be happening.

She was running towards the river bridge without even thinking about it, instinct overriding any rational thought.

Though nothing had been remotely rational in the past 48 hours so that was probably a good thing.

She made it there quicker than she probably ever had in all her times commuting over it. She came to an abrupt stop at the edge.

With a determined nod she walked over it, heart beating rapidly.

But nothing happened.

Frisk looked back at the rusted aqueduct questioningly.

What was she doing wrong?

She walked back over it.

An exasperated huff, still nothing.

"i thought we agreed that this was water under the bridge."

Frisk swiveled towards his voice, unexplainable happiness filling the pit of her stomach.

There Sans stood, happy as a clam, face set in his usual smile, hand pointing to the river behind him.

Frisk quickly closed the distance between them, meeting the tattooed male at the edge of the riverbank.

Even the flow of water was at a standstill. She bent down to it, running her hand through the pristine water which moved at her touch as if it were a thicker substance. Like a molasses.

It was amazing.

"How are you doing this?" She questioned quietly to her companion. Frisk saw him shrug in her peripheral.

"well kid, not to impress you or anything but it's," his hands mimicked the spirit fingers she had done to him the day previous, "magic."

The two fell silent, Frisk mesmerized as she continued to play with the altered river.

"So what happened yesterday, after you went all magic on me?"

Sans tilted his head, curious, "heck if i know, you disappeared out of thin air. i was only able to snatch your necklace before you were gone. quiet the magician yourself kid." He was obviously being facetious about the last part.

Frisk still didn't understand. The small details didn't make sense, but what she did know was that somehow all of this was real.

It had to be, she was touching it with her own hands.

Although that had been the case with Papyrus too, but apparently that hadn't been considered real enough in whatever crazy reality or alternate dimension she was currently occupying.

"I..." She seriously wondered if she was going to regret bringing this up again since last time had been so disastrous, "I wasn't lying...about Papyrus. I really did meet him."

She peeked up at the white haired man. He did seem a bit more tense, but not murderous like before.

He took in a breath slowly letting it out and giving her a smile, "i believe you."

Though their time had been brief together, Papyrus had left a big impression on the brown haired girl. He was loud sure, but kind. Sincere. Things that were rarely in existence and if they were never so readily shown like the over zealous living skeleton had done.

"Is he really dead?" Her voice was solemn.

There was silence. Frisk took the lack of response as an affirmation.

She stood and turned back to the clearly uncomfortable male.

"What happened?" Now she was actively pushing her limits.

Sans hands clenched, she could tell by the shift in his pockets. He was still managing to keep it together, "chara happened."

Frisk was astonished for the umpteenth time that day.

Her sister had been here?

And more importantly, her sister was a murderer?

Chara was eccentric sure, devious, maybe even erring on maniacal, but homicidal?

She couldn't be.

Frisk sputtered, not knowing where to start.

Should she apologize? Should she leave?

Sans apparently was able to read minds now too, "i won't hold her actions against you, that wouldn't exactly be fair would it."

He seemed completely normal. Rational even.

"Thanks I guess?"

Why did she feel so guilty?

Sans stretched out his hand, palm facing towards the sky, "come on, i want to show you something."

Frisk eyed the hand with uncertainty before ultimately deciding that she was already in this deep, might as well fully commit.

She placed her hand in his which instantly curled around her delicate fingers. A warm wave ran across her skin and their conjoined hands were alight with Sans' blue magic.

"close your eyes," he commanded soothingly and she did.

It felt like the ground had disappeared beneath her feet, the whole world shifting, but only for a moment.

He let out a chuckle, "you can open them kid, we're here."

Frisk tentatively opened her eyes, hazel irises looking around her. They were back at the circus, just outside the entrance.

The sun had slowly begun it's descent, casting large shadows on everything that stood in its path. Twinkling lights began to shine bright, reflecting gorgeous patterns against the tents and tapestries. Small crowds of people were making their way into the fairgrounds at a steady pace, their footfalls crunching against the dried grass and hay on the ground.

Frisk was engrossed in the picturesque scene before her, so much so that she didn't notice Sans' unwavering gaze.

His eyes were sparkling as much as hers.

"hey kid," he eventually said, voice soft and a lethargic smile still filling out his lips, "can you read that?"

The brown haired female snapped out of a trance at his words. Sans gestured towards the large entrance sign that had eluded her yesterday.

"Uhm..." She fixed her gaze on the sign, trying to make something out of the swirling pattern.

Slowly the faded designs made out letters, then words.

Frisk gasped, "Cirque des Âmes Perdues?" It was French which Frisk couldn't translate.

The taller male seemed pleased, "good, means you can see the show."

Frisk lifted a brow, "The show?"

"this is a circus after all," he replied in a matter of fact manner, shrugging. He smirked at her, "let a guy show you a good time?" Tattooed hand was extended again.

A somewhat mocking 'ha ha' left Frisk though she grabbed the hand none the less.

Another warm wave washed over her skin though there was no magic glow this time.

The two started making their way into the big top, the opening flaps held high in grand arches.

"once we're in there, no matter what, do not let go of my hand." His tone was dead serious, but he gave her a smile to combat any fear.

She nodded, a rush of adrenaline filling her veins.

They made their way through the crowd, Sans guiding her towards a small empty section on one of the back benches.

Frisk's face mimicked that of a fish out of water, and she felt like one too, wide eyes trying to take in everything around them.

The seats were packed, hundreds of faces blurring together into a sea of changing expressions. The ceiling of the tent seemed impossibly high, creating beautiful arches and refractions as lights bounced off the surface. In the center of the room was a humble white pedestal, it was the least decadent thing in the room.

Sans gave her hand a brief squeeze, "don't forget yeah?"

She gave a determined nod, excitement overriding any anxiety she may have had upon entering.

With a final glance at the man besides her she gave her full attention to the main ring.

Everything suddenly blacked out.

A bright spotlight hit the center of the darkness where there was a tall figure perched on the previously empty pedestal.

They were slender to the extreme. All that could be seen was a bright white comedy theater mask, though there were long black lines extending up from the right eye and down from the left corner of the other to the smiling mouth. Clad in black their frame seemed to fade into the darkness around them.

With a swift movement of their arms towards the sky, their long cape flew into the air twinkling like a thousand galaxies which slowly expanded outwards towards the audience, swirling and dancing along the inner surface of the big top.

Their arms were now wide spread, white gloved hands out stretched.

A low melodic hum began to fill the air and Frisk felt a tug at her chest. She placed a hand there to try and dissuade the feeling, giving a wary glance to her companion. He nodded in understanding, then tilted his head towards the surrounding audience.

Hundreds of multicolored hearts filled the seats where people once were, glittering like tinted diamonds, she and Sans were the only two physical beings left.

The hum slowly steadied, evening in pitch. The mask's smile seemed to widen, gloved hands gesturing towards the ceiling.

Two spot lights hit the beginning and end of a trapeze and the show finally began.

It was mesmerizing. Some very small part of Frisk's brain registered that she should probably be scared, but she was too enraptured, too thrilled.

Her existence had been a daily reiteration of boredom incarnate and this was her first taste of the eccentricity she always assumed Chara had experienced.

And now that she was having a taste she couldn't help but realize how parched she had been and she would continue to seek out more until she was sated of that thirst.

A beautiful woman draped in layers upon layers of purple tule and ribbon began her swift routine upon the high trapeze strings and bars. Graceful beyond all comprehension. Frisk let out a small gasp every time they jumped from bar to bar. She didn't even register the multiple limbs the woman had as strange, they looked absolutely beautiful. As if gravity was a made up concept.

All of the seated hearts seemed to be affected in much the same way, swaying with the woman's movements.

The rest of the show continued in the same fashion, building and building upon each other in increasing beauty and intensity. Eventually coming to it's peak, dazzling performances one after the other until the theatrics seemed to be coming to an end.

Frisk felt an overwhelming sense of contentment, wave after wave of reassuring peace that she almost wanted to fall asleep. Soothed to the nth degree.

The ringmaster's swiped a hand down his face, turning his mask from that of comedy to Melpomene's one of tragedy, the same ridged cracks coming from the eyes.

There was another strong tug at Frisk's chest and she could swear that the figure was looking right at her.

The white hands swayed as if conducting to unheard music.

Though maybe it was only Frisk who couldn't hear the music because the colored hearts began to move rhythmically towards the masked leader, dipping and ebbing, inching closer and closer.

Another swoop of the tall figures mystic cape caused it to swirl around the gathered hearts, taking them against their chest as if in a loving embrace before releasing them upwards in a swift fashion.

The hearts turned and swelled as they approached the top of the tent, exploding into brilliant glittering fireworks, centers lit ablaze in their corresponding color, shooting arms intermingling with other explosions and tangling into collaborative patterns.

Slowly the colors faded into nothing, falling weightless into the ether.

Sans released her hand, promptly grounding Frisk from the wonderment she had witnessed and back to reality, and began clapping in a manner that could only be interpreted as sarcastic.

The lights were fully on, the mysticism of the show completely dissipated. It was completely empty, the seats, the benches, the center ring. The master of ceremonies stood alone in the center, expectant.

The white haired male gave her a playful shove, "come on, i'll introduce you to gaster." Head gesturing towards to ringleader.

She felt strangely empty.

Gaster's gaze was on her like a sniper. She could feel her body tremble.

Where had everyone gone?

Had they even been real?

Were they...

Frisk couldn't finish the thought.

Sans was already by the edge of the stage before he turned back to his shorter companion, giving a curious look, "hey kid, we ain't getting any younger."

Frisk was paralyzed. She couldn't calm her breathing, panic filling every muscle.

She could've been dead.

The thought had completed itself.

"hey, you alright?" Sans was back at her side in an instant.

Her ears were ringing like they had this morning, eyes shut tight.

She couldn't breath.

She couldn't think.

Sans went to place a hand on her shoulder in a small attempt to help, maybe this had been a bad idea.

His hand passed through her.

Frisk felt a shiver run down her back, eyes flying open to look at him. His mouth was agape in shock.

With a final glance at each other Frisk completely disappeared, shimmering locket left in Sans' open hand.

This would definitely complicate things.

Pushing down a brief quip of frustration, Sans clenched his hand around the jewelry.

It was still warm from Frisk's skin.

...

A-n-B: Gaster is the bees knees. Thank you to those who reviewed, good to know some people are enjoying it.

Sorry for any grammatical errors, I'm a very lazy editor and as luck would have it mostly see errors after publishing.

Ya'll know the drill, please review and let me know what you think. Til next time.