The plan backfired. The outpouring of familial acceptance overwhelmed poor, unsuspecting Francine, making her bolt in a panic. It took Manuela's parents nearly an hour to find and calm her friend down enough to return home and eat the dinner everyone had prepared. Franny didn't open her presents until the next day.

Chapter 17: You Are My Rock

San's shortcut took them to the hidden park bench in Waterfall. The echo flower didn't have much too say, the laughter they shared weeks ago faded and indistinct. Still sitting on the ground covered in his coat, Frisk pulled the garment a little more over her head, covering her face fully and draping herself in its heavy warmth.

It was almost like being back at the Kane estate. Whenever she could no longer hide the tears within herself she would cocoon herself in blankets, or climb into her wardrobe wrapped in a ratty old robe her father didn't wear anymore. As long as the dark was somewhat warm and had some softness, it didn't bother her the way being punished did. She found comfort in it, using it to replace the hugs her human parents eventually stopped giving her.

Sans' coat smelled even more like pickles than it had the last time she hid under it, the day the two of them met. The thought that he probably didn't wash it regularly crossed her mind, but it didn't disgust her. It only made the fun memories stronger. Playing along with Papyrus's puzzles, Sans' attempts to prank her throughout the snowy forest, that first lunch at Grillby's… they all flowed through her like the river, gentle and calming.

A bony hand started rubbing her back, again. She knew Sans was only trying to help. She knew she had to talk. Of all the people that deserved an explanation, he'd be among the first to tell. But could she give that explanation without talking about Asriel? Without telling him about all her deaths? He'd never believe her! She was sure he'd smile and say he did, but he wouldn't. Not deep down, where it mattered. She didn't think she could bear to see the look on his face as he humored her, believing the truth to be nothing more than a cry for attention.

Sans stopped rubbing her back, moving his hand to squeeze her shoulder gently. "i'm gonna pop out for a sec," he said. "i'll be right back, so you just stay put, okay?" When Frisk remained silent he shook her shoulder pointedly and said, "okay, kiddo?"

"…okay."

Her shoulder was squeezed again before he stood and disappeared in a blink, leaving Frisk with the quiet water and her thoughts.

Sans mentally threw every curse and swear word he knew at every human who had ever hurt Frisk. His shortcut put him just on the outskirts of camp, a short distance away from the tent he shared with Papyrus. He would have popped in directly, but he didn't want to chance winding up on top of his brother. Or, god forbid, having their bones stuck together like a jigsaw puzzle from Hell. It hadn't happened yet, but Sans tried to be careful of such things when he used his… unique ability.

Imagining how Papyrus would react to such a situation made him chuckle, calming him enough to smile more naturally as he entered his temporary home. He found the tent flap thrown wide open, letting the light in as Papyrus cared for his armor. His brother sat on his cot with his breastplate balanced on one knee, cloth squeaking as he polished the metal. He noticed Sans' shadow and greeted him without looking up from his task.

"Hello, Brother! Back already?"

"yeah, but just for a sec. gotta grab somethin' real quick."

"Oh, and what would that b-? Sans! Where is your coat?"

Stepping into the tent put Sans in Papyrus' peripheral vision, and he felt his brother's gaze upon his back as he knelt to reach under his cot. He tensed for a fraction of a second as he retrieved Rockwell, but forced himself to relax as he stood. He made a nonplussed face as he said, "huh. must've lost it. better go look for it. might as well take rocky for a walk while i do. see ya."

Papyrus' hand darted out, catching Sans by the humerus before he could leave. Sans had a second to marvel at how fast his brother could be before Papyrus said, in a softened voice, "I don't suppose that, when you find your coat, it will be in need of rock therapy?"

"…maybe."

Papyrus lowered his voice even more, as close to a real whisper as he ever got, eye sockets worried. "Do you need me to come with you?"

Sans tried to smile reassuringly. "i think rocky's got this covered, bro." And, loathe as he was to admit it, he didn't have the energy to bring another person on his shortcut, anyway. Being about the size of an tomato, Rockwell could be stowed in his pocket during the trip. Hauling the things in his inventory through a shortcut didn't drain his magic the way "passengers" did. Sans slipped Rockwell into said pocket as he felt himself being tugged to one side.

Papyrus pulled him into a hug that was just shy of bone-crushing before he could move away. Then he let go, held Sans' shoulders, looked him right in the orbits and said, "Please give that hug to… your coat. And don't dally! I'm sure it needs it as soon as possible!"

Although his younger brother tried to keep his tone of voice cheerful, his eyes were still worried. Then again, only a real bonehead wouldn't be able to guess who Sans was really trying to help. One who didn't know about Operation Birthday, and what they were trying to accomplish. The kind of bonehead Papyrus had never been, contrary to popular belief amongst their "esteemed peers".

Sans smiled warmly, saying, "sure thing, paps." He rubbed his brother's skull the way he used to, back when the big guy had been just a little guy. Before Papyrus could grumble about being treated like a babybones Sans took a step back, taking quick glance outside to make sure nobody was looking inside the tent. He gave Papyrus one last grin before shortcutting back to Frisk. He popped into existence in a corner behind the bench, well clear of where he'd left the princess and any other object in the room.

He closed his eyes, wanting to sigh but keeping it in. The magic reserves built up from his last nap had just been drained. He was an old man with weary bones, no matter how young he'd been when he stopped aging. Anyone who said otherwise was a dirty liar. After shortcutting all over the place all day, it was definitely time for a break.

Sans opened his right eye, looking at the spot he left Frisk in. She hadn't moved, thankfully. He wouldn't have put it past the resourceful and determined princess to take a little swim down the river, just to get out of the room and away from the kind of conversation that needed to happen. But she hadn't, so it was time to introduce the kid to another Gaster Brother tradition.

He strolled up to Frisk, pulling Rockwell out of his pocket as he did. He cheerfully said, "i'm back, and guess who came with me! but no peeking. go on, i bet you'll never get it." Sans hoped she'd play along, but she didn't. She looked over her shoulder at him, one squinted eye peering out from her improvised hidey-hole.

"aw, you peeked! cheater." He winked to lessen any sting Frisk might feel from the admonishment. She didn't really react, just looking at what he held in his hand. "okay, okay. i went and got rocky. before i get into why, paps had somethin' for ya. but you gotta stand up for it."

Frisk looked up at his face. At least, Sans thought she did. It could be hard to tell where she was looking, unless she obviously moved her head. After a couple seconds of internal debate she pulled the coat back over her face and stood, turning to face him. Sans felt like sighing again, but ignored the temptation.

"normally i charge for these," he said, "but since i'm just passin' on a message this one's on paps." Sans heard a confused little murmur from the depths of his coat, but he didn't give Frisk time to puzzle out what he'd just said. He embraced her the same way Papyrus had done to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close. Frisk was tense, at first, but she soon relaxed. She even settled her head on his shoulder, though she still had his coat over her head. Sans rolled his eyes at how shy she was being, but he had a message to finish conveying.

"i'm not as good at 'em as paps is," said Sans, "but the big guy said to give my coat a hug. cool of him, but i wonder why he'd say such a thing? he can be such a goofball, sometimes."

Frisk settled herself even further onto his shoulder. She made no sign that she was uncomfortable, which was good, but Sans knew they couldn't stand there all day. "okay, okay, enough with the mushy stuff. leggo'a me." She chuckled at his antics, just a little. Was she feeling better already? He hoped so. After they parted, Sans went on. "now that that's outta the way, on to why rockwell is here."

He presented the stone in his hand with a flourish. "this little lady is a bone-a fide therapy rock. she'll listen to everything you say without judgin', and she's the best at keepin' secrets. if there's somethin' you wanna get off your chest, she's the perfect one to tell. take a seat and we'll get you two started."

Frisk didn't move. She didn't take the coat off her face, either, as she said, "If you're going to nap, don't you need the bench?"

"nah, i'll be fine on the ground. i've slept on worse, believe it or not. by the way…" Sans raised a brow ridge at Frisk as he asked, "are you gonna hide in my coat forever?"

She nodded. "I like it in here. It's warm, and private." Frisk swayed from side-to-side in the most restrained happy-dance Sans had ever seen. He'd seen some cute happy-dances in his life, Frisk's being only one of many (Papyrus' being the best, of course), but this was getting ridiculous.

He shook his head. "i'm glad you think so, kiddo, but don't you think it's time you came outta there? i don't scare you that bad, do i?"

"I don't know, Your Honor. Judge 'The Only Reason You're Alive Is Because I Promised So.' Should I not be scared of you?"

Sans winced internally. Frisk's tone was cheeky, not accusatory, but that was still a low blow. While all the banter probably meant she was mentally stable at the moment he was starting to regret telling her that.

"i told you i was just kidding!" said Sans. "i don't think you realize how stone-faced you get, sometimes. it makes a guy want to say stupid stuff, just to get your goat." He tossed and caught Rockwell a few times, winking in his usual manner. "i was makin' sure you weren't related to my pet rock, y'know?"

Frisk's head popped out of the coat. The garment settled on her shoulders as she deadpanned, "You can't have either of my goats. They're still married."

Sans almost dropped his pet, trying not to laugh. And she had the nerve to call him out on spicy jokes! She gave him a teeny-tiny smile he knew well. It was the expression of someone that was satisfied with the reaction to their joke and trying not to show it. He wanted to pun right back… but he could see what Frisk was doing. She was appealing to his sense of humor to distract him, and make him forget what he had planned.

Unfortunately for her, he invented that technique. He wasn't about to let it work on him, no matter how much fun it would be.

"that was a good one, kid," he said, "but you're not gettin' outta this that easily. you need to talk to someone, and i need a nap. we're not leavin' this room 'til at least one of those things happens." He pointed to the bench using the hand that held Rockwell. "now park it."

Frisk sighed dejectedly. "Park bench. I get it. And I suppose I should return your coat, too?" She made to remove the coat from her shoulders, but was obviously reluctant.

Sans shook his head. "nah, you can keep it 'til i wake up. just… don't feel like you gotta hide from me, okay? i'm only here to help."

"…I know."

Frisk's demeanor was subdued as she walked to the bench. Her arms slipped into the sleeves of the coat, her hands lost in the voluminous material. Hell, not even his hands made it all the way to the end! The hem of the sleeve was supposed to sit on the carpus, not cover the metacarpi the way it did on him (although it made good cover for his whoopee cushion gag). The coat made them both look like kids playing dress-up, but it hadn't been made for them. Its measurements had been intended for someone of a completely different build, the person who had given his coat to Sans. The extra DEF had saved his life during The Incident. Too bad he didn't manage to save himself, that horrible day…

Sans shoved the thought back into the shadows of his mind. He was just tired. That was why he was thinking about people who never existed when he should've been focusing on Frisk. Once she was seated he asked her, "ya comfy, kiddo?" At a nod he gave her Rockwell, plopping the stone in Frisk's cloth-covered, cupped hands. "there we go.

"now, all you have to do is talk. doesn't matter what you talk about, just get if off your chest and rocky will listen. she's not much for advice, but you'll feel better tellin' someone, no matter how absurd you think it is."

Frisk stared at the rock in her hands, then back up at Sans. "Have you ever needed to tell Rockwell something you couldn't tell anyone else?"

He almost lied and said he didn't, but something about the way she was squinting at him made him pause and reconsider. Instead, he said, "...yeah, i have. plenty of times." Thankfully, she didn't ask about what he told Rockwell. Her question did make him wonder…

Sans' legs began to quiver, rattling slightly as a familiar wave of dizziness hit him. No questions now, too tired. He lowered himself to the ground before he collapsed, laying a couple feet away from the bench. His hood covered his eye sockets, his arms went behind his head, he crossed his legs at the ankles and he wriggled his shoulders to settle in. After a deep sigh he was half-asleep as he said, "wake me up whenever you're done, kiddo."

He fell into sleep's familiar embrace within minutes.

While Sans was gone, Frisk had just enough time to realize her behavior was inexcusable. But the coat had been so comforting she wondered if she could lighten the mood, just a bit, by pretending to keep hiding in it. In retrospect, it was an infantile plan. She had expected Sans to whisk it off her, like a stage magician using a handkerchief to make a bouquet "appear" in his hand. She never thought he'd let her keep it, much less receive a relayed hug from Papyrus. The both of them were really too kind.

She still couldn't tell them about Asriel or what happened at the barrier, but they were both very kind.

She began to count the seconds, waiting for Sans to fall into a deeper sleep before she started talking to Rockwell. Since he didn't have eyelids (just plates of bone mimicking them) she was guessing how long it would take him to reach the REM state. After approximately ten minutes, she figured he was in a deep-enough sleep to talk, as long as she did so quietly, but what to say? Admittedly, it felt a bit silly to contemplate talking to a rock at all, but Sans had a point about needing to tell someone. She didn't miss the subtle shift in his expression after her question, either.

The Kane family was full of liars, and they surrounded themselves with other liars. She could tell when an adult was about to lie to her, but Sans changed his mind just before doing so. Knowing he'd talked to Rockwell about his secrets made it feel less silly. Once she started it became easier to share, just like it'd been when she faced Sans in the Last Corridor.

She began with her deaths, then expressed her confusion on why "determination" was all it took to manipulate time. She shared her fear that she was living in a dream and would wake at any given moment, erasing everything.

She rambled about her life with the Kanes. How everyone mocked the shape and color of her eyes, then later mocked her squint after everyone told her to "do something" about them. How all the girls her age laughed at her because she wasn't as "developed" as they were, and that she found books and the flowers in the garden to be more interesting than whatever gossip they were sharing. They'd just been imitating their own mothers and the gossip they shared over too much wine.

She bemoaned her status as an "illegitimate, but still being raised as legitimate" daughter. She (quietly) raged at the unfairness of life in general, and shared her other fear that her good times with the monsters would end, no matter how much they loved and protected her.

By the time she felt like she could finally stop talking she felt… not "better," and not "bad", just… numb. Drained. Tired. Sans' coat was heavy, and warm…

Without really thinking about it Frisk curled up on her side, laying on the bench with Rockwell tucked against her stomach. She could feel her eyelids getting heavier, the siren's song of sleep as much of a lullaby as the ethereal, barely-there laughter of the echo flower. She remembered the warmth of a bony shoulder, and the strength of two brothers' worth of hugs…

The quiet water echoed softly, washing her worries away. She drifted with the current, dreaming of peace.