Angels in the Underground

by Kat A. Klysmic

200 years ago, angels were banished from the surface world after the commander of the heavenly host, Asgore, declared war on mankind. Now, young Frisk has fallen into the Underground and must conquer the angels' seven trials if she, and the angels themselves, are to have any hope of escape. Along the way she meets Sans, a wounded seraphim who agrees to guide her through the trials.

2. Puzzles on Ice

AN: Second chapter at last! So, uh...just how long is TOO long for a chapter, do you think? *sweats* This chapter is 20k, and considering that I'm trying to restrain the chapters so there's one trial each, that means all the chapters will likely be about this long.

So I'm honestly asking: would you guys prefer shorter chapters? Like, is a 20k chapter inconvenient to read? Obviously if they were shorter, I'd update more frequently, but then again, less frequent = much bigger update. I'll leave it up to you guys, so drop me a review with your opinion!

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Chapter Two

Second Trial / Puzzles on Ice

Sans and Frisk walked through the forest in a companionable silence broken only by the crunch of freshly fallen snow beneath their boots and the gentle tap of the girl's walking stick.

Frisk brightened noticeably and asked, "Hey, did you hear the one about the guy that invented the knock-knock joke?"

Sans glanced sidelong at the girl. She was grinning broadly, barely able to repress the urge to give the answer to her own joke before he made his response. Rather than keep her waiting, the seraphim asked, "nope. what about him?"

"He won the 'no-bell' prize!" she said and threw her hands in the air with the kind of exuberance only the very young (and Papyrus) could manage.

The skeleton tilted his head, mulling the answer over and feeling as though he were missing something. "what's a no-bell prize? other than the obvious, i mean," he asked eventually when he was forced to give up parsing it out on his own.

"Um," Frisk lost a little of her animation and dropped her hands, stick automatically going back to its constant back and forth before her. A small frown spread over the girl's face as she thought. "I think...it's a prize for smart people?"

Sans laughed and nudged her lightly with his elbow. "guess that mean's you're not getting one, huh?" Frisk's stick gave him a sharp rap across his shins for his trouble, making him yelp through his laughter.

"Yeah, well, you've never even heard of a no-bell prize, so you're definitely not getting one!"

"touché," Sans admitted, still grinning once he'd managed to stop laughing. He turned to say something else, but paused when he saw Frisk tilt her head, brow furrowed in concentration.

"What's that sound?" she asked and came to a halt in the center of the path.

Stopping at her side, Sans listened, but heard nothing for a long moment. Eventually, though, the sound of wings on the air reached him, and he knew just what was coming. "damn," he muttered as Papyrus burst into view over the treeline ahead of them, his crimson wings flashing as he circled overhead, then came in for a landing.

"What is it?" Frisk asked, throwing her hand up to shield her face from the sudden onslaught of snow kicked up by the other angel's arrival.

"my brother, papyrus," Sans admitted to his companion with a sigh. "i'd kinda hoped we'd get closer to snowdin before we ran into him, but… oh well."

"SANS!" Papyrus shouted irately as he approached, wings half-mantled at his shoulders, making him appear even larger than normal.

"'sup bro?" Sans remarked casually as he unveiled his wings and deftly swept the uninjured right one out to wrap around Frisk and herd her closer to him, effectively shielding the girl from his brother's view. Not that there was any way Papyrus hadn't seen her from the air, but Sans figured it was worth a shot. Luckily, Frisk didn't complain at the sudden onslaught of soft, feathery warmth, and shuffled closer without comment. Sans could feel her small hands carefully exploring the underside of his wing, but he didn't let the sensation distract him.

"DON'T YOU 'SUP BRO' ME, SANS! YOU-" Papyrus paused, brow furrowing as he stared down at his shorter brother. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"oh… just out for a walk," Sans replied with a careless shrug. "you know these old bones get restless."

Under his wing, Frisk tried to muffle a giggle, and Papyrus' eyes narrowed as he put his hands on his hips and demanded, "I MEAN YOUR WING. WHO ARE YOU HIDING UNDER THERE?"

Unable to resist, Sans played along, and rather than revealing Frisk he lifted his crippled left wing as though he expected to find something beneath its ragged length. "hiding? don't know what you mean, bro; nothing under here."

Pain lanced through him as he lowered the wing again, but it was worth it for the furious little stomp Papyrus made as his frustration boiled over. "NO! THE OTHER WING; THE OTHER! QUIT FOOLING AROUND, SANS!"

"oh, you mean this wing?" Sans asked with a smile, twitching the limb in question, though he did not open it.

"YES OBVIOUSLY," Papyrus huffed, "YOU HAVE NO OTHER WINGS TO SPEAK OF!"

"says you," the seraphim countered.

His brother paused again, and seemed to consider this for a moment. He shook himself, though, and to Sans' disappointment, refused to be baited. "QUIT BOONDOGGLING, SANS! I HAVE NO TIME FOR YOUR SHENANIGANS RIGHT NOW, JUST SHOW ME WHAT YOU'RE HIDING!"

Frisk giggled again, and Sans squeezed his wing more tightly around the girl to shush her.

"WHATEVER IT IS, IT IS GIGGLING. I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN STRANGE THINGS GIGGLE FOR UNKNOWN REASONS, SANS."

"oh i dunno, i think the reason is obvious enough," the shorter skeleton remarked, and if Papyrus had had a vein to burst, Sans rather suspected he would have. Before his beleaguered brother could object again, Sans added, "it's supposed to be a surprise."

"A GIGGLING SURPRISE?" Papyrus asked skeptically. Giving up on getting a straight answer out of his brother, the archangel stepped forward and simply pushed his wing aside.

Hair mussed and flower crown askew from her confinement, Frisk turned her face up towards Papyrus and said, "Hi."

The crimson feathers of Papyrus' wings fluffed out in surprise at the unexpected sight, though the rest of him remained frozen. After a moment, he asked, "SANS, IS THAT… IS THAT A HUMAN?"

"what?" Sans asked, "where?"

"HERE!" Papyrus very nearly screeched as he gesticulated wildly at Frisk.

"oh, her?" his brother replied casually as he veiled his wings once more. "yeah."

"I'm Frisk," the little girl said and offered her hand up to shake, smiling brightly, just as her Grandma had taught her to do when meeting new people.

"O-OH, HELLO, LITTLE HUMAN," Papyrus said, taken aback by this unexpected show of courtesy. Not one to be rude, the skeleton took her hand in his much larger gloved one and shook it carefully. "I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, ARCHANGEL OF SNOWDIN, KEEPER OF THE SECOND TRIAL, AND-"

"yeah, yeah, alright, we don't need the whole spiel," Sans said, waving a hand at his brother in an attempt to cut him off before he got properly started. "we'll be here all day at this rate."

On a normal day, Papyrus probably would have chastised him for interrupting his over-the-top introduction. Instead, the much taller angel practically jigged in place and agreed with his older brother. "OF COURSE. YOU'RE HERE FOR THE TRIAL!" he proclaimed excitedly. "I'VE BEEN PLANNING THIS FOR SO LONG! IT'S MY FIRST TIME, YOU KNOW."

"Toriel said that other people had gone through the trials before me, though," Frisk pointed out thoughtfully as she did her best to neaten her crown of flowers, though her short hair still stuck up at odd angles. Neither of the angels paid it any mind, so it remained that way.

"I WAS NOT ALWAYS THE KEEPER OF THE SECOND TRIAL," Papyrus admitted, and Sans glanced at him sidelong as his brother shifted in place. The archangel's sleek, crimson wings had settled behind him now that he was no longer irritated.

Frisk tilted her head as she listened, angling her chin up as she began to register just how tall Papyrus really was. At almost eight-and-a-half feet tall, the archangel towered over both of them, and not for the first time, Sans found himself getting a crick in his neck just talking to him from this close. At least Frisk didn't have to worry about making eye contact with people. "Who did it before you?" she asked Papyrus curiously.

The taller skeleton tilted his head thoughtfully and considered a question for a moment before finally answering. "I DON'T KNOW," he admitted with a frown. "THEY DISAPPEARED AFTER THE LAST HUMAN THAT CAME THROUGH SNOWDIN PASSED THEIR TRIAL," Papyrus explained. "AFTER THAT, COMMANDER ASGORE HIMSELF GAVE ME THE JOB, SO I'VE BEEN REVAMPING ALL THE PUZZLES WHILE I WAITED FOR ANOTHER HUMAN TO FINALLY COME THROUGH." The archangel was grinning again as he gestured at Frisk with both hands and declared, "AND HERE YOU ARE, AT LAST!"

Buoyed by Papyrus' enthusiasm, Frisk grinned. "I like puzzles," she admitted brightly.

"ME TOO!" the skeleton exclaimed, clearly delighted to find a fellow puzzle connoisseur at long last. "THE FIRST PART OF THE TRIAL IS STRAIGHT AHEAD. I'LL MEET YOU THERE," Papyrus said, then unfurled his wings and sprang into the air.

Before he was able to beat his long, angular wings more than twice, though, Sans sprang nimbly upward and caught him by one ankle. "hold on, little bro," the seraphim said and dragged Papyrus back down to earth. "i've got a few new rules for your puzzles," Sans informed him, thinking fast.

"I AM NOT LITTLE, SANS," Papyrus complained at the nickname even as he was pulled back to the ground. His brother's next words, though, brought him up short before he could gripe further. "WHAT NEW RULES?" he asked suspiciously, leaving his wings half-spread in anticipation of another takeoff.

Sans glanced at Frisk, remembered she obviously couldn't see him do so, and asked, "he doesn't realize either. okay if i tell 'im?"

The little girl just laughed and nodded. "Angels are so weird," she muttered mostly to herself.

"I AM NO SUCH THING!" Papyrus huffed, hands on hips.

It was only then that his brother's wardrobe registered with Sans. "Are you still wearing that?" he asked, amused as he gave Papyrus a quick up and down.

The archangel glanced down at the costume he had made for Muffet's party the week before and said, "OF COURSE! IT'S MY BATTLE BODY, YOU KNOW!"

Sans tried very hard, but failed, to smother a grin when his brother struck a dramatic pose, wings folded just so in an impressive imitation of a cape. "pap, you have literal armor, what do you need a 'battle body' for?" the seraphim mused while Frisk listened curiously to their exchange.

"THIS IS MUCH LIGHTER THAN MY ARMOR. I CAN MOVE MUCH FASTER AND MORE NIMBLY NOW!"

"that's because we made it out of paper mache," Sans pointed out.

"YOUR POINT?" Papyrus asked, dropping his pose and looking down at his brother critically.

Sans opened his mouth to say something, but glanced at Frisk again and stopped himself. A huff of amusement escaped the seraphim and he shrugged helplessly. "can't argue with that logic."

Papyrus grinned triumphantly. "PRECISELY. NOW, WHAT ARE THESE NEW RULES?"

"right," Sans said, recalling himself back to the actual task at hand, rather than his brother's questionable fashion choices. It wasn't as though he were anyone to judge when it came to wardrobe, after all. His blue jacket was faded and threadbare, he was pretty sure his black gym shorts had a hole in them somewhere, and his boots had definitely seen better days. At least Papyrus' clothes were 'new'. "the kid here is blind," he explained to his brother. "you're going to have to walk her through the puzzles if she's going to have a fair try at them. you know all the trials have to be passable to be valid."

Papyrus blinked and looked down at Frisk who tilted her head up to regard him, though her eyes remained half-lidded. The skeleton waved a hand in front of her face experimentally and she swatted it away with uncanny accuracy. "I can hear you waving your hand around, you know," she said, exasperated as the archangel snatched his hand back quickly.

"SANS, HOW DO WE KNOW THIS ISN'T SOME CLEVER RUSE ON THE HUMAN'S PART?" he asked suspiciously.

"it's not, bro, trust me," Sans reassured him, voice gentle for a change, rather than teasing as he reached over and ruffled Frisk's hair further.

"Hey," she complained, nose scrunching up as she resettled her flowers once more, making her companion grin.

Papyrus hummed uncertainly for a moment, then finally acquiesced. "ALRIGHT, IF YOU SAY SO, SANS." He frowned a little and asked, "A WALKTHROUGH, THOUGH? DOESN'T THAT DEFEAT THE PURPOSE OF A PUZZLE?"

"i'm not saying you have to solve it for her, pap," Sans said. "you'll just have to describe things to her so she actually has a chance to solve them." When his brother continued to look uncertain, the seraphim added, "what's the point of having all these puzzles you made if there's no one to solve them? aren't you bored just sitting around and tinkering with them all the time?"

Sans knew he'd hit the nail on the head when Papyrus straightened, then dropped one hand onto his hip. "YOU'RE RIGHT FOR ONCE, SANS," he agreed.

"once?" Sans grumbled under his breath, making Frisk giggle.

"ALRIGHT, HUMAN," Papyrus said and pointed dramatically down at her from his much greater height. "I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU THROUGH MY PUZZLES AND DESCRIBE THEM IN DETAIL SO YOU HAVE A FAIR CHANCE." He leaned down, bending almost double to put himself at eye level with her so he could add, "BUT DON'T EXPECT ANY HINTS!"

"Well it's no fun if there's hints," the girl said with a grin, which Papyrus returned before taking a few steps back and launching himself into the air again, unhindered by his brother this time.

"GOOD! I WILL MEET YOU AT THE FIRST PUZZLE THEN!" the archangel declared, then darted away through the sky, peregrine-fast on his red wings.

Sans and Frisk both put up a hand to shield themselves from the shower of snow kicked up in Papyrus' wake. The seraphim watched him go for a moment, eyes tracking the way his brother tucked his wings close to his long body as he rolled to one side to avoid a tree, then spread wide again with a clap to carry him quickly away. A familiar something in the Sans' heart twinged at the sight, and the ache in his veiled left wing pulsed sharply for a moment as it always did when he thought of flying.

Quickly burying the pointless thought, Sans turned his attention back to Frisk and asked, "ready, kid?"

"I think so," she answered with a bob of her head. "Which way did he go?"

Sans reached out and gently pointed her in the correct direction with a light hand to one of her thin shoulders. "This way," he said, then started walking. "You can hold my hand, if you want," he offered without thinking, surprising himself.

"No thanks, I've got it," Frisk answered firmly as she made her way along the path, stick tapping in front of her.

Sans rather got the impression that the girl valued her independence, and despite her initial clinging when they met, was not the type to shy away from a challenge. The seraphim smiled to himself, finding that he was liking this precocious child more all the time. He felt a sort of kindred spirit in her, which was unusual, considering her youth and their vastly different backgrounds. They both liked bad jokes, valued their independence, and hated when people treated them differently because of their handicaps. At the end of the day, he had a lot more in common with this stray human child than he did with most of his own kind.

The humor in this did not escape him.

"Archangels are one of the most powerful kinds of angels, aren't they?" Frisk asked out of the blue.

Sans blinked at her question, but counted himself lucky that she'd decided to ask that, rather than what had happened to the angel that had held Papyrus' job before him.

That wasn't a conversation he particularly looked forward to having.

"yeah," he answered readily. "why?"

The girl frowned a little, and Sans realized it was a stupid question. Puzzles aside, this child was going to have to fight his brother at the end of it all if she wanted to continue on.

Papyrus, while strong, wasn't a warrior at heart, no matter how dearly he wished he was. Still, even the weakest of angels would be able to overpower Frisk in a fight. There wasn't much he could do to level the playing ground for her there, after all.

"i won't let you go into the fight blind," he reassured her quickly, then paused. "er, figuratively, anyways. can't do much about the literal."

A half-hearted laugh escaped the girl, but faded again as Frisk admitted, "I don't wanna fight him at all."

A sigh escaped Sans in a cloud that quickly fell behind him as they walked. "i know, kid. but you have to if you want to get home. there's no way around it."

"I don't understand why there's trials at all," Frisk admitted, frown deepening. "Why can't I just go home?"

The seraphim hesitated before answering, unsure of how to - or even if he should - explain. Finally, he put off the decision by saying, "it's a dumb rule, frisk, but it's an important one. trust me."

The last two words fell out of his mouth without thinking, and a sharp pang lanced through his chest when, after a moment's consideration, Frisk tilted her head and said, "Okay, if you say so, Sans."

Just for that moment, the seraphim was glad the little girl was blind or she would have had to suffer through him looking at her as though she had grown a second head. She trusted him. This little girl, so very far from home and completely out of her depth, trusted him, despite having just met him. The seraphim had already decided to shoulder the burden of looking out for her as best he could during the trials, but the discovery that she trusted him to do so…

It left a funny sort of feeling in his chest.

Feeling unaccountably flustered, Sans cleared his throat awkwardly to cover his stunned silence and thanked the creator when they came around the last bend in the path to a familiar clearing. Papyrus stood at the end of the path looking dramatically foreboding with his wings folded along his back like a cape. "WELCOME, HUMAN," he declared with a broad wave of a gloved hand. "TO THE BEGINNING OF THE SECOND TRIAL, MASTERMINDED BY ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!"

A grin of amusement at his brother's antics overtook Sans' face, and the seraphim briefly wondered if Papyrus had forgotten that Frisk couldn't actually see any of his dramatic posturing. Then again, the archangel never had been one to do things in half measures, so it probably didn't matter to him either way. It was the principle of the thing.

This being his brother's first time running his trial, Sans muffled any teasing comment he might have usually made. This was the most excited he'd seen Papyrus in ages, and he didn't have it in him to rain on his parade.

"Um, what am I supposed to be seeing?" Frisk asked him in a quiet aside.

Before Sans could begin to describe the scene for the girl, though, Papyrus eagerly jumped in and did so himself. "WHY, NOTHING AT ALL BUT AN EMPTY CLEARING!" he declared with a downright nefarious laugh.

As the archangel rubbed his gloved hands together menacingly, Frisk turned her head slightly and cocked it towards Sans in a way the older angel was coming to recognize as her way of looking at him. Reading her unasked question in the lines of her face, the seraphim said "well, he's not lying, it really is an empty clearing." Sans found himself wondering just what it was his brother was up to for this particular puzzle. He tended to stay out of Papyrus' way when it came to the archangel's ever evolving trial, but he had noticed him frequenting this clearing more and more of late. He hadn't actually seen anything change, though, so Sans had just assumed his brother was making plans to put a new puzzle in this particular clearing. He hadn't realized he'd finished.

When Papyrus seemed done with his bout of ominous laughter, Sans shoved his hands in his coat pockets and said, "alright, bro, give her the bare bones of this puzzle already, will you?"

Beside him, Frisk smiled at his joke, though Papyrus just gave him a look of disgust. He acquiesced, though, and said, "FOR THIS TRIAL, I WILL NOT HELP YOU, HUMAN!" he declared. Before his older brother could object, he continued on and waved at the seemingly empty clearing. "THIS IS MY A-MAZE-ING INVISIBLE MAZE, SO THE FACT THAT YOU CANNOT SEE DOES NOT, IN FACT, MATTER." He paused for a moment, seeming to consider something before adding, "SHOULD YOU NEED TO ORIENT YOURSELF TO THE EXIT, HOWEVER, MY BROTHER OR I WILL SHOUT FOR YOU."

The brother in question was staring out across the clearing, taken aback by the apparent sophistication of Papyrus' latest puzzle. Had he really managed to make an entirely invisible maze? He hadn't realized the archangel had gotten that good at his job. He really ought to pay more attention to what his brother got up to in his free time, apparently...

"Is he serious?" Frisk asked Sans, eyebrows up, mouth a little 'o' of surprise.

"seems to be," Sans said with a helpless shrug.

"SANS, HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY DOUBT MY BRILLIANCE?!" Papyrus demanded with a scowl, but Sans only arched a brow at him.

"i don't, i'm just...impressed," he said, words genuine despite the humor that lit his eyes. "so, you gonna guide me through first?" Sans asked. Papyrus knew better than to offer to carry him; he had made that mistake only once, not long after the fall, and it was one the archangel would never repeat.

Papyrus laughed again and declared, "THERE WILL BE NO NEED FOR THAT!" He then reached beneath his right wing and produced a sphere the size of a man's fist that glittered faintly in his red gloved hand. It appeared to be made of pale blue glass, and while it looked solid, was actually quite light. "YOU SEE, THE MAZE WORKS ONLY FOR WHOEVER HOLDS THIS ORB, SO YOU AND I WILL PASS UNMOLESTED. THE HUMAN, HOWEVER, WILL BE SHOCKED IF SHE SO MUCH AS TOUCHES THE WALLS!" Papyrus grinned, obviously quite proud of himself as he tossed the orb from one hand to the other. "BRILLIANT, YES?" he asked as he proceeded to place the glass bobble on Frisk's head amongst the flowers of her crown, looking very much like an odd egg in an even stranger nest.

Sans immediately noted a sizeable fault in his brother's plan, but said nothing, knowing that point it out would only invalidate this portion of the trial. If the kid were paying attention, though…He glanced at Frisk sidelong, but could not tell if she had caught on as well.

"COME, SANS," Papyrus said, then darted off across the clearing to the point where the path picked up on the other side. "DO NOT START UNTIL I SAY SO, HUMAN!" the archangel commanded.

A small huff of amusement escaped Sans, and he elbowed his young companion gently. "good luck, kid," he said. "just uh...take your time and think about it, huh?" he suggested, then started off after his brother, not quite daring to say more than that.

Papyrus was practically bouncing in place by the time Sans caught up to him, and when he had, the taller skeleton shouted, "YOU MAY BEGIN, HUMAN!"

Rather than starting forward immediately, Frisk stabbed her walking stick down into the snow so it stood on its own, and took a moment to process the instructions she had been given, just as Sans had suggested. The girl then plucked the glass ball from off her head, and allowed her fingers to play along the crown of flowers, clearly checking that they remained undamaged. Finding them to her satisfaction, she waved the magic orb in the air and called, "Um, excuse me, Mr. Papyrus?"

"THAT'S 'ARCHANGEL PAPYRUS' TO YOU, SMALL HUMAN TRIAL GOER!" the skeleton called back, though after a moment's hesitation, he asked "WHAT? YOU DON'T NEED HELP ALREADY, DO YOU?!"

"No, I just had a question is all, Archangel Papyrus" Frisk said as she lowered her arm and held the orb carefully between both hands.

"OH," Papyrus said, sounding almost disappointed. "WELL, WHAT IS IT?"

"So, I just have to get over to where you and Sans are, right?" she asked curiously, and the seraphim felt a rush of relief. She'd got it. Clever girl had listened and put it together, just as he'd hoped she would.

"YES," the archangel answered, tapping his boot impatiently.

Frisk tilted her head, then held up the orb and spoke again, "And the maze will only shock whoever is holding this ball?"

Papyrus huffed impatiently. "I ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT!" In an aside to his brother, he added "THIS HUMAN DOES NOT LISTEN VERY WELL, DOES SHE?"

"you might be surprised," Sans replied with a sly smile that his brother did not like at all.

"Oh, okay!" Frisk said and grinned. She then carefully set the ball down in the snow to her right, took up her stick, and proceeded to march straight across the clearing. Papyrus watched her, flabbergasted as Sans chuckled and waved her on.

"this way, kid," he called to her when she started to drift a little to the right, put off course by the unevenness of the ground beneath the once pristine blanket of snow.

She reoriented and made a bee-line towards them, grinning when she finally made it. "I did it!" she declared happily, clearly quite proud of herself for figuring out Papyrus' supposedly cunning trap.

"sure did," Sans, still grinning. "high-five, kiddo, good job," he said. Frisk stuck one hand out and he slapped her palm with his, and they both laughed. "now up high." She re-oriented her hand and he did it again.

To his surprise, she offered it once more, and asked, "Down low?" Just as he went to complete the gesture, though, she snatched her hand back and grinned, declaring, "Too slow!"

Sans' jaw dropped as Frisk broke down into laughter, which he did as well after a moment's stunned silence. "what the hell, i cannot believe i just fell for that," he wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes as the girl in front of him giggled, clearly delighted at her successful subterfuge. "need to up my game, i'm getting rusty."

"QUIT ALL THIS CONGRATULATORY HAND SLAPPING!" Papyrus said, cutting through their laughter as he stomped one foot. "THAT DIDN'T...YOU CAN'T JUST-"

The smile fell from Frisk's face as she tilted her head slightly to listen to Papyrus, worried once more. Before his brother could call her a cheat, though, Sans cut in, "don't worry about him, kid. he's just upset you figured out his clever ruse so easily."

"I-" Papyrus began again, only to be interrupted once more.

"-because it would take a total numbskull to expect a bright kid like you to actually complete the maze when you can just walk through it instead." The seraphim was still smiling when he looked at his brother side-long, but there was a sharpness to his gaze that brought Papyrus up short.

Realizing his folly, the archangel's objections crumbled. He sighed, and said, "YES. YES OF COURSE. GOOD JOB, SMALL HUMAN, YOU HAVE PASSED THE FIRST PUZZLE OF THE TRIAL."

Frisk cheered, and Sans' gaze softened as he gave his younger brother a commiserative pat on the arm. "hey, maybe you'll get her next puzzle, bro."

This suggestion made Papyrus brighten noticeably. "YES, TO THE NEXT PUZZLE!" he declared happily, and started off down the path. "FOLLOW ME!"

They did so, and Sans placed one hand lightly on Frisk's elbow to guide her in the correct direction when they came to a fork in the trail, then released her again as she seemed to be having no problem navigating on the relatively even ground. The seraphim found himself keeping one eye on her as they walked, though, concerned that she might slip on a patch of ice. Wondering if Frisk inspired this sort of protectiveness in everyone she came across, Sans was actually surprised when they arrived at the next puzzle sooner than expected. As soon as he realized where they were, though, he nearly laughed.

"SANS!" Papyrus demanded as he rounded on him, "YOU SAID YOU WOULD TAKE CARE OF THIS PUZZLE LAST WEEK! WHERE IS IT?"

"it's there," Sans reassured him.

"WHERE?"

"there," the seraphim said and pointed to the center of the small clearing they'd arrived in.

"You made a puzzle too, Sans?" Frisk asked curiously, turning towards him.

The skeleton shrugged and grinned, amused despite his little brother's annoyance. "yeah. kinda. might have cheated just a little bit," he admitted. Papyrus shot him an ugly look and Sans said "what? i was busy! besides, puzzles are your thing, dude. you shoulda known better than to ask."

"BUSY DOING WHAT?" Papyrus asked.

"stuff," Sans answered cagily as Frisk started forward, deciding to pay the brothers no mind as they argued. Or, rather, as Papyrus argued and Sans continued to brush off his annoyance.

The human's makeshift cane fetched up against something small and crinkling, bringing her up short. Frisk crouched and felt around carefully until she found the slip of paper that had been left out on the snow under a small rock that was no doubt meant to keep it from blowing away. She stood and tucked her stick under one arm as she let her fingers brush over the 'puzzle's smooth surface.

"Um," she said, and turned to face the pair of angels. They didn't hear her, though, so she tried again. "Excuse me!"

Papyrus, still irritated, turned and asked, "WHAT?!"

"Is this the puzzle?" she asked and held up the bit of paper.

"yep," Sans answered. "it's the junior jumble," he clarified, knowing what her next question was likely to be.

"It's a...it's a word jumble?" she asked. "Just what kind of challenge is that supposed to be?" she asked with a laugh. "Well, pretty impossible for me, I guess," she mused, then frowned. "This doesn't...this doesn't mean I fail the trial, does it?" she asked, worried now.

Sans glanced sidelong up at his brother again, who huffed and seemed to cave. "NO," he said, grumbling a bit. "THIS IS ALL SANS' FAULT FOR PICKING SUCH A TERRIBLE PUZZLE! HONESTLY, JUNIOR JUMBLE IS FAR TOO DIFFICULT, SANS. WHAT WERE YOU EVEN THINKING?" He demanded as he stalked over to Frisk and took the paper from her, then crumpled it up into a wad and threw it at Sans' head.

Sans caught it easily, then tucked it into his jacket pocket, still grinning. "what, seriously? junior jumble is for baby bones, pap. the crossword is way harder."

Papyrus scoffed, then caught up Frisk's hand in his own and proceeded to lead her away. "COME ALONG, HUMAN, WE WILL DO A DIFFERENT PUZZLE DESIGNED BY ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS! IT WILL BE MUCH BETTER THAN THE JUNIOR JUMBLE."

"O-okay," Frisk said, picking up her pace to keep up with Papyrus' long strides as Sans trailed along after, watching their progress with some amusement. Apparently the girl didn't quite dare to demand her independence from the angel in charge of her second trial. Every few steps she would have to jump ahead to keep up, until Papyrus finally noted her struggles and slowed down enough that she could actually walk normally.

Next to an outcropping of rocks, they reached the next trial. Papyrus came to a stop and released Frisk's hand before explaining for her. "BEFORE YOU IS A TABLE, AND ON IT IS A PLATE OF DELICIOUS SPAGHETTI," he said as he rubbed his gloved hands nefariously again.

His brother, Sans realized, didn't just have an awful poker face, he had an awful puzzle face to go with it. He really would have to talk to him about all that hand rubbing. Talk about a dead giveaway.

Frisk's nose scrunched up in confusion as she tilted her head to one side. "I thought I had to do a puzzle? Why is there spaghetti?"

"I DON'T KNOW," Papyrus said with false innocence that nearly made Sans snort. "BUT PERHAPS YOU WILL BE SO DISTRACTED BY THIS DELICIOUS SPAGHETTI THAT YOU WILL NEVER FINISH THE TRIAL!"

The archangel laughed in what he no doubt thought was a wicked manner (NYEH HEH HEH HEH, Sans imagined it would be written), but Frisk only said, "Oh, I probably shouldn't eat it then," and reached out towards where she knew Sans was standing.

The seraphim managed not to laugh, but he couldn't keep the grin off his face as he took her hand in his, ready to guide her away since she had so neatly sidestepped this trap as well. "it's frozen anyways, just feel it," he mused, poking at the plate absently with one finger.

"SANS," Papyrus practically whined.

"what?" the seraphim asked. "it is. that's gross, bro. more gross than usual, even."

Frisk reached out and did the same, giggling when her fingers found the plate of noodles which was indeed frozen. So much so that the sauce had effectively glued the lot to the plate. "Ew, yeah, I don't want frozen spaghetti."

"SILLY HUMAN, I THOUGHT OF THAT ALREADY!" Papyrus declared, rallying admirably. "BESIDES THE PLATE OF SPAGHETTI IS A MICROWAVE!"

"Oh!" she said, surprised at this revelation. Frisk thought about this fact for a moment, though, then asked "But what is the microwave plugged into?"

A moment of silence, and then, "WHAT?"

"What's the microwave plugged into? You know, so it can run?" She turned to Papyrus, who did not immediately answer, and then to Sans. "Or is it like...a magic microwave? Do you have those?"

"no," Sans answered, still grinning as he leaned around the table to see that the plug of the microwave was, indeed, dangling uselessly off the back of the table. "definitely not a magic microwave."

"UGH," Papyrus said dramatically, then threw his arms in the air and declared, "FINE, YOU WIN THIS ROUND, SMALL HUMAN. YOU HAVE AVOIDED MY SUPER SNEAKY PASTA TRAP, CONGRATULATIONS."

"Really?" Frisk asked, lighting up at this news.

"YES, REALLY," the archangel admitted with a sigh. "BUT BEWARE, THE NEXT WILL NOT BE SO EASY!"

"Alright!" the girl said and flashed the archangel a grin, her hand still in Sans'. After a moment, she handed her stick to the seraphim, who arched a brow at her, but accepted it. Her right hand free, she reached up for Papyrus'. She missed the first try, but found him on the second, surprising him from his disappointed reverie with the unexpected contact. "This is pretty fun," she admitted cheerfully as they all walked together.

Papyrus shot his brother a disbelieving look over the little girl's head, but Sans only smiled and shrugged, amused by the odd picture they made, and unwilling to break it up. The three of them together had a strange sort of...rightness to it, he realized. Papyrus must have felt the same, as rather than shaking Frisk off, he returned her grip on him and broke into a wide smile.

"I AM ALSO HAVING FUN," he admitted. "I DID NOT EXPECT THE FIRST HUMAN TO ATTEMPT MY TRIAL WOULD BE SMART ENOUGH TO SOLVE ANY OF MY PUZZLES."

"Well, I didn't solve the paper one..." Frisk pointed out.

Papyrus snorted dismissively. "THAT'S BECAUSE MY BROTHER IS TERRIBLE AT PUZZLES. HIS DOESN'T COUNT."

"i'm pretty sure it makes me the undisputed puzzle champion, actually," Sans said smugly just to needle his brother.

"IT MOST CERTAINLY DOES NOT!"

---

Frisk's laughter echoed through the clearing, waking Sans from his doze at the base of a nearby tree. His eyes remained closed, but he paid more attention to what was going on around him, and listened as Papyrus lead the little girl through another one of his switch puzzles. There were several of them, so Sans had given up following them around and told them to wake him when they were done, trusting that his brother would keep an eye on the girl. They certainly sounded as though they were having a good time. In any case, Papyrus no longer seemed upset that Frisk was practically breezing through all of his puzzles; rather, he was quickly coming to admire her. It turned out she had a very good memory for where things around her were once she'd been walked through once, a skill she'd no doubt been forced to hone thanks to her lack of eyesight.

Still feigning sleep, Sans smiled a little when he overheard Papyrus congratulating the girl on completing another puzzle. She cheered, and the sound of skin on glove contact denoted another high-five. The archangel had been hesitant to adapt this new habit at first, but apparently he had come to appreciate its charm.

Thoughts of what Papyrus would do when it came time to fight Frisk surfaced from the depths of his mind, but Sans quickly pushed them aside. They'd cross that bridge when they got to it.

"Sans! Sans, I did it!" Frisk called as she bounded over, hand in hand with Papyrus as she allowed him to lead her in the right direction.

"never doubted you for a minute, kiddo," Sans said with a yawn and a smile as he opened his eyes just in time to see the girl throw herself at him. Caught offguard, he reached out and caught her reflexively before they wound up in a pile in the snow, and she succeeded in throwing her arms around his neck. He blinked in surprise, taken aback by the warmth and weight of her in his arms, which went around her automatically. She squeezed him tight, and then she was gone, up on her feet and jumping at Papyrus, latching onto his arm like a monkey and laughing wildly when he lifted her with ease and swung her back and forth.

"To the next puzzle!" she commanded from her perch.

"YES!" Papyrus agreed enthusiastically as he spun about with her still on his arm, making her laugh and squeal in delight. "YOU'LL NEVER SOLVE THIS ONE, HUMAN, JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE!"

And they were off again, running helter skelter across the snow until Papyrus went down when his boots slipped out from under him on the ice. They both landed in a mound of snow left by the archangel when he'd shoveled the puzzle clear at some point. Alarmed that Frisk might have been hurt, Sans found himself on his feet and halfway across the clearing in a blink, only to draw up short when both puzzle fiends burst out a moment later laughing and completely unharmed.

Alarmed by the way his stomach had dropped out from under him at the spill, Sans took a moment to collect not only himself, but Frisk's walking stick, which she had dropped along the way. Barely a day and he was already picking up after the kid and worrying over her like some sort of mother hen…

A rueful smile crossed the skeleton's face as he absently shook the stick clear of snow and wondered what Ellie would think to see him fretting so. She'd been the only one besides Papyrus he'd ever worried over like that, so to find himself doing so over someone new was… strange. He mulled the feeling over for a moment, then finally came to the conclusion that, though the memories of Eliya stung as much as they ever did, the fact that Frisk had apparently wormed her way into the very exclusive group of people Sans cared about didn't bother him. Ellie, he knew, would have been glad.

"SANS, HURRY UP!" Papyrus shouted, drawing the seraphim's attention back to the present. The pair were already at the head of the path, waiting for him.

"I lost my stick! Do you see it?" Frisk called worriedly.

A chuckle of amusement escaped Sans as he headed towards them. He tapped the girl lightly on the head with her walking stick when he reached them.

"don't lose it again," he warned her, then scoffed and added, "what do I look like, your maid?"

"I don't know," Frisk replied, grinning as she took her stick back. "Maybe. I don't actually know what you look like," she pointed out with a snicker.

Sans rolled his eyes expressively and elbowed her lightly as they all started walking again. "i'm a skeleton."

"Skeletons can't be maids?" she asked slyly.

"SKELETONS CAN BE WHATEVER THEY WANT," Papyrus said. "ALTHOUGH TECHNICALLY WE ARE NOT SKELETONS. WE ARE ANGELS."

"angels that look like skeletons with great big feathery wings on," Sans corrected.

"DETAILS."

---

"How much further is it?" Frisk asked a while later. She was beginning to lag more and more, and for awhile, Sans had thought this was a symptom of her reluctance to get to the end of the trial and fight Papyrus. As she spoke now, though, he realized she must be tired.

"IT'S A WAYS YET," Papyrus informed her, not picking up on the same clues his brother had. He did open his mouth to suggest that flying would be faster, but the flat look Sans leveled at him killed that idea before it escaped his lips.

Frisk's forward momentum slowed to a trudge and she said, "I'm tired."

"WHAT?" Papyrus asked, looking back at her incredulously. "YOU CAN'T BE TIRED! WE'RE NOT EVEN DONE WITH THE PUZZLES YET!"

"But I am tired!" the little girl said with something dangerously close to a pout.

Before things could devolve into an argument, Sans interjected. "cut the kid some slack, bro. this is her second trial today, she already had to do toriel's and she's been taking yours on like a champ. she deserves a break."

Thinking about it, Sans realized that his words weren't just an empty defense on Frisk's part. The girl had come a long way through trying circumstances with barely a break. Even he'd had a nap partway through. No wonder she was pouting.

A thoughtful noise escaped Papyrus and he eventually acquiesced. "OH VERY WELL. I SUPPOSE IT WON'T HURT TO TAKE A BREAK BEFORE THE NEXT PUZZLE."

A smile of relief crossed Frisk's features as Sans glanced around, taking note of where they were. "one of the guard stations is ahead, we can camp there for a bit." Sans said and lead the way, cutting through the forest with Frisk and Papyrus in his wake.

They reached their destination a few minutes later, and the seraphim was glad he'd remembered its location correctly. There were several such little huts scattered about Snowdin Forest, and this was one of the nicer ones. They didn't see much use these days, as they'd been built by the previous trial keeper, but Papyrus liked to have him play human lookout occasionally, so Sans had been making use of them for years.

The front window was shuttered, but the seraphim left it that way and lead them around the back to the door instead, which was unlocked. No one knew where the keys were since the last trial keeper disappeared, so he never locked up. No one but them ever came out there anyways, with the exception of the occasional kid out for a little adventure in the woods.

"Come on in, make yourself comfortable," Sans said as he waved Papyrus and Frisk in ahead of him. "it's no MTT Resort, but hey, better than an igloo."

Frisk felt her way along the wall, getting her bearings, when she found herself kicking several somethings across the creaky wooden floor in front of her. She stopped immediately, concerned that she had knocked something important over. "Sorry," she said.

"no worries. just some condiment bottles," Sans reassured her, kicking a few out of the way himself to make room. There was no furniture in the small shack, but the seraphim reached under the counter on their side of the shuttered check window and dragged out a crate he'd stashed there for the times he found himself spending long hours there for the sake of humoring his brother. Inside it was a half-empty bottle of ketchup, some snacks, a pillow, and a few blankets.

Frisk found her way to his side, and crouched next to the crate, her hands tracing along its rim before exploring the contents. Papyrus, meanwhile, stood in one corner looking vaguely awkward and disapproving at the general state the shack was in.

"SANS, THIS PLACE IS A PIGSTY."

"yeah, i keep chasing them out of here, but they keep coming back," the seraphim replied innocently as he passed Frisk a pillow and blanket, then settled himself in the corner opposite his brother. He used one of the spare blankets as a cushion, then leaned back and drew his coat up around him against the chill.

"THE ONLY PIG IN THESE WOODS IS YOU, SANS," Papyrus scoffed as he finally broke down and slid into a crouch in his corner. He'd veiled his wings as soon as he'd entered the shack and realized the space was far too small to accommodate them comfortably, and he now sat with his knees pulled up to his chest.

Sans just chuckled in reply as Frisk felt around for a moment, then leaned her stick in one corner before plopping down next to him. The seraphim glanced over at her, and his eyebrows shot up when the girl proceeded to drop the pillow he'd given her on his lap and lay her head down on it as though this were the most natural thing in the world. Before he could object, though, she immediately sat back up and carefully removed her flower crown.

When she hesitated, clearly debating on where to put it, Papyrus reached out and gently took it from her. "I WILL PUT IT ON THE COUNTER," he told the girl, and did so.

She smiled sunnily at him and said, "Thanks, Papyrus."

"ARCHANGEL PAPYRUS."

"Archangel Papyrus," she agreed and then yawned so wide her jaw cracked. Frisk then cocooned herself in her blanket and dropped her head back onto Sans' lap and made herself comfortable.

The seraphim stared at her a moment, then said, "you know, i gave you that pillow so you wouldn't have to use one of us as a cushion. If you're gonna use me anyways, you should just give it back so i can use it."

"Nuh-uh," the girl said. "You're too boney!"

Sans rolled his eyes, but smiled. "gee, wonder why that would be."

"Shh," she commanded. "Go to sleep."

The skeleton snorted. "yes ma'am," he murmured and settled back in his corner, resigning himself to being the child's pillow for the duration of her nap.

Twenty minutes later, Sans found himself in that dream-like place just between sleeping and waking when Papyrus spoke, startling him awake.

"ARE YOU DONE YET?"

Sans opened one eye to look at the archangel, who was still seated in a crouch in the corner opposite of him. "Done what, sleeping?" he asked as he tried to muffle a yawn.

"YES," Papyrus said with a beleaguered huff. "I'M BORED."

The seraphim looked down at the little girl in his lap. He couldn't tell if she was well and truly asleep or not, but she made no move to contribute to the conversation, so he assumed she was for the moment. "no, pap. it's only been twenty minutes, kid's gonna need more than that. hell, i need more than that and not only am i not a human, i had a damn nap earlier."

A frustrated sigh escaped his brother as the taller skeleton dropped his head back against the wall with a quiet thunk that made Frisk stir in her sleep. Sans cast Papyrus a sharp look, and the archangel winced apologetically.

Sans settled back to sleep again, eyes drifting shut as he suggested, "why don't you go reset all your puzzles and make sure your next one is ready to go?"

Papyrus lit up at this idea and nodded eagerly. "EXCELLENT IDEA, SANS! I WILL CHECK THAT EVERYTHING IS READY SO THERE ARE NO FURTHER DELAYS!" he said then got to his feet and exited without a backwards glance. Sans listened to him leave, only to hear him hurry back before he got more than a few paces away. He was unable to hide his smile when his younger brother stuck his head back in through the door and said, "I'LL BE BACK LATER, SO DO NOT WANDER OFF WITH THE SMALL HUMAN."

"roger that," Sans replied with a lazy salute, eyes still closed. "don't hurry back on our account."

Papyrus left again, and this time the seraphim heard him take to the air and fly off, leaving them in peace and quiet at last.

"Doesn't Papyrus ever get tired?" Frisk asked, turning her head slightly where it rested on his leg.

"you know, i'm not convinced my brother actually understands the concept of sleep," Sans mused, watching the little girl as she fiddled absently with a golden chain that hung around her neck. The angle she lay at had allowed its length to fall out from under the high collar of her sweater, and eventually, her slender fingers found the pendant that hung from it, and brushed over its surface in a familiar manner. "whatcha got there, kid?" he asked, unable to restrain his own curiosity.

To Sans' surprise, Frisk gave an almost guilty jump and shoved the necklace back down into her sweater and turned her face away from his, back towards his feet. "Nothing," she answered immediately.

The seraphim's brows shot up in surprise at this odd reaction, more curious than ever. "well, alright," he said, clearly unconvinced. "you don't have to be so tight lipped with me, though, you know. i don't even have lips," he joked.

A little laugh escaped the girl, but she shook her head and curled up into a ball, resettling her head on his leg as she did so. After a moment, though, she said, "Sans, I'm cold."

Temperature rarely bothered him, but considering all the tracking around in the snow the girl had been doing that day, the seraphim had no doubt she was chilled to the marrow. Threadbare though it was, even he had a coat. All she had was a sweater. Considering how unexpected her fall into the Underground had likely been, he supposed she was lucky she'd been wearing clothing as practical as she was. He had no idea what season it was up on the surface, but apparently it wasn't winter.

"alright," he said, then opened his eyes and looked around the little shack before doing a few mental measurements. After a moment, he spoke a word that hissed and crackled as it rolled off his tongue, accompanied by a brief flash of warm, golden light. Magic hummed around them and settled into the walls and floor of the guard post with a sigh. Every surface began to radiate a gentle warmth that seeped into both of them and made Sans relax a little more.

"What was that?" Frisk asked, eyes open wide as she rolled onto her back so her face was turned up towards him.

"enochian," Sans answered with a shrug as he closed his eyes once more, relishing the return of warmth. How long had it been since he'd last gone back to the house and slept in his own bed? There was no true night or day in the Underground, so the angels tended to keep their own arbitrary hours. It made keeping track of the passing of days difficult, to say the least.

Though he couldn't see her, he could hear the frown of confusion in Frisk's voice when, after a moment's hesitation, she asked, "Isn't that… isn't that a kind of dumpling?"

Sans laughed aloud, unable to keep his eyes shut any longer. "what?" he asked, still snickering. "no, that's gnocchi, dumpling for brains."

Frisk scoffed and pushed at him ineffectively. "Fine then, what's gnocchian?"

"enochian," the seraphim repeated when he managed to stop chuckling at her expense, putting emphasis on the 'e'. "the language of the angels. boy, what are they teaching you kids in school these days?" he mused as he swatted away her hand.

"Math, mostly," Frisk said with a put upon sigh. "I hate math." she rolled back over onto her side once more and settled herself more comfortably, clearly more at ease now that the chill had been dispelled. "So Enochian's magic? Is that why it's warm?"

"to put it simply, yeah," Sans said. "enochian is made up of words of power, so to speak, which is why we don't use it for casual conversation. angels can do all sorts of stuff if they know the right combination," he explained and muffled a yawn.

"Oh," Frisk said as she caught his yawn and completely failed to hide it. "Could you melt all the snow outside?"

"theoretically," Sans replied. "then we'd be trudging through mud to get to snowdin, though, and that's way worse than snow." He glanced down at her, expecting more questions, but was met with silence. It was broken a second later by a little snuffling snore as the girl finally drifted off to sleep.

Relieved, Sans heaved a sigh and allowed himself to do the same.

---

"SANS, HUMAN, WAKE UP!"

Papyrus' voice rang through the little shack and had Sans sitting bolt upright in a flash, tumbling Frisk's head off his lap and onto the floor with a thump. There was a second, much louder thump when the noisy archangel landed on the roof.

"dude, what is your malfunction?!" Sans demanded grumpily as Frisk whined and clamped her pillow over her head.

"MY MALFUNCTION?" Papyrus demanded, and the roof overhead creaked ominously with his footsteps as he walked to the rear of the shack and dropped down. He threw the door wide, letting an unpleasant gush of cold air into their cozy refuge, inspiring sounds of outrage from both occupants. "I HAVE NO MALFUNCTION. YOU, HOWEVER, HAVE BEEN IN HERE FOR NEARLY SEVEN HOURS! ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE NOT MALFUNCTIONING?"

"it's not a malfunction for a human to sleep seven hours, you lunatic," Sans groused unhappily as he zipped his coat up around him and rolled his shoulders. They, and his back, complained loudly at the awkward position he'd slept in.

Frisk added a sour comment of some sort from under her pillow, but muffled as it was neither angel caught it. Papyrus only rolled his eyes and stood there, hand on hip and told his brother, "YOU ARE NOT HUMAN, SANS."

"maybe not," the seraphim said as he got to his feet, "but humankind has sleep down to an art, and i've always been a connoisseur." With that, Sans proceeded to herd Papyrus back out of the guard shed and shut the door sharply behind him. "we'll be out in a minute," he said over his brother's muffled outrage.

With a sigh, Sans pressed his back briefly to the door until he heard Papyrus storm off again, then turned his attention back to Frisk. "hungry, kid?" he asked as he pushed off the door and made his way to the crate under the counter.

"Yes," the little girl said with such emphasis that Sans glanced up at her and grinned. She pushed aside her blanket, hair thoroughly tousled and sticking up at all angles thanks to static and too long spent sleeping in one position. While he rummaged through the crate for food, Frisk did her best to get the bird's nest under control, to minimal success.

Sand emerged victorious from the depths of the crate with three sandwiches he'd stashed there the week before, and a couple of drinks. Luckily, things had been so cold until they'd arrived that they appeared untouched by mold or anything else objectionable when he examined them.

"mmm, egg salad or peanut butter and jelly?" he asked once he'd managed to identify their contents.

"Ew!" Frisk said with a laugh as she rubbed absently at her face and yawned, then held out one hand and said, "Peanut butter and jelly, please."

Sans put the sandwich in her hand, then set aside the others for himself, and took a second look at the drinks he'd dug up. One was an off brand soda, and the other was apple juice. The seraphim wasn't exactly up on the nutritional requirements of human children, but he was pretty confident you weren't supposed to give them soda for breakfast.

"here, this too," he said and pressed the can of juice into Frisk's hand. When she accepted it and tilted her head in question, Sans added, "it's apple juice."

"Thanks," the little girl replied cheerfully, then sat back on her knees and proceeded to unwrap her sandwich and dig in.

Sans did the same, though after a few bites he paused to open his soda. The sharp hiss-pop filled the shed, and he had to hurry to drink the foam that came gushing out the top before he made a mess. When he had his drink under control, he glanced up and realized that Frisk had hers in hand as well, but extended in his direction in silent request for help as she chewed on her sandwich.

"hold it still," he instructed her, and when the girl had a firmer grip on the can, he reached out and popped the top for her. She smiled around her sandwich at him, and he chuckled a little as she took a sip.

"WHAT IS THIS MUTINY? WHY ARE YOU EATING SNACKS?!" Papyrus demanded, making them both jump and look around at the door which he had opened a crack, apparently with the intent of spying on them. He threw it wide now, and loomed over the pair, toe tapping with impatience.

"want one?" Sans asked as he proffered the third and final sandwich in his brother's direction.

"NO I DON'T WANT-" the archangel began, then paused and asked, "WAIT, WHAT KIND IS IT?"

"Egg-salad," Frisk answered.

"EW."

"That's what I said," the little girl remarked with a commiserative nod.

"what's wrong with you people?" Sans groused half-heartedly, then added in a sly tone, "i think they're egg-cellent."

Papyrus groaned and Frisk laughed, nearly spitting a mouthful of juice in the process, making Sans grin at his own impeccable comedic timing.

The pair quickly finished their meal with Papyrus still looming over them, then tossed the blankets and pillow back in the crate and shuffled the garbage off into one corner with the abandoned condiment bottles.

Before Frisk could don her flower crown, again, though, Sans stopped her. "come here, kid, you're a mess," he observed, then took her gently by the shoulder and turned her so her back was to him.

"I think I look fine," she said and laughed at her own joke.

Sans rolled his eyes but began to carefully finger-comb the girl's short, dark hair in an attempt to force it into some semblance of order. Honestly, he didn't care what the girl's hair looked like, but memories of the careful way Ellie had always tended her curls rose to the surface of his mind to haunt him every time he caught a glance of Frisk's wild mane. Not that El had ever been a priss, but she'd always said that if she left her hair to itself it was liable to mutiny. Whenever he'd taken her flying, she'd always braided it into a crown around her head, especially after their first flight when her hair had become so windblown it'd taken her some twenty minutes to tame it with a comb again. Frisk's locks were far too short to do anything of the sort with, but at least he could make sure her hair didn't become a matted mess.

"IF YOU'RE QUITE DONE PRIMPING THE HUMAN, SANS," Papyrus drawled.

"What's primping?" Frisk asked curiously, then winced a little when Sans' thin fingers caught at a particularly stubborn knot in her hair.

The seraphim scoffed. "he thinks I'm taking all day to beautify you," he said as he finished up his work and then patted the girl on the shoulder. "pap's just jealous, though. even after spending all night on the floor of a shed, we're both still prettier than him."

"EXCUSE ME?!"

Frisk laughed, then flipped her short hair dramatically away from her face with a hand and grinned. "Oh, well obviously."

An offended noise escaped the archangel, and his brother laughed at the little girl's antics. "SO RUDE! AND PATENTLY UNTRUE! SANS, WE BOTH KNOW THAT I AM THE HANDSOME BROTHER."

"Don't worry, Sans, I think you look great," Frisk told him with a friendly pat on his arm and a sly sort of smile.

"gee, thanks kid," the seraphim said, trying to sound offended, but completely incapable in the face of her self-deprecating joke.

"HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY KNOW?" Papyrus demanded, not catching her look. "YOU DON'T EVEN-"

Sans rolled his eyes and pushed his brother out of the shed while Frisk chuckled to herself and placed her flower crown on her head once more. "yeah, that's kinda the joke, bro. now, are we doing this puzzle or what? at this rate I'm gonna need another nap."

Papyrus allowed himself to be pushed out into the open air and watched as his brother turned and shut the door after Frisk. "NO. NO MORE NAPS, SANS!" the archangel said with a fierce wag of his finger at the shorter skeleton. "NO MORE NAPS, SNACKS, OR BREAKS UNTIL WE ARE DONE!"

"What if I have to go to the bathroom?" Frisk asked as they started walking again.

This brought Papyrus up short, and he reluctantly agreed, "BATHROOM BREAKS ARE ACCEPTABLE DETOURS, I GUESS."

The little girl masked a smile with one hand while the other set her staff tapping out in front of her, feeling her way down the path between Papyrus and Sans.

It had snowed several inches while they slept, so going was slower than it had been the day before. Papyrus and Sans both had to save Frisk from a spill more than once, and only quick, furtive flapping of the archangel's crimson wings kept him from falling face first on a patch of ice. They all heaved a sigh of relief when they finally made it to their next destination, but the feeling didn't last long for Sans when he realized just what puzzle his brother had lead them to.

"papyrus, you can't be serious," the seraphim said, frowning outright at the gray patchwork arena across the bridge in front of them. "does this thing even work?"

"OH YE OF LITTLE FAITH!" Papyrus said as he lead Frisk to the edge of the floor, then bid her stand still with a hand on her shoulder. At Sans' skeptical look, he continued, "THRONE ALPHYS REPAIRED IT FOR ME LAST WEEK."

"A chair fixed your puzzle?" Frisk asked, nose scrunching up in confusion.

"a throne is a kind of angel," Sans explained distractedly, attention on the deathtrap of a puzzle he'd be having words with Alphys about, assuming he could oust her from that god-forsaken lab of hers in the Core. Granted, since he was traveling with Frisk, there was a chance he'd be forced into her company regardless…

Assuming neither this puzzle, nor his brother, killed the kid first.

"THRONES ARE MUCH LESS POWERFUL THAN ARCHANGELS SUCH AS MYSELF," Papyrus added a little smugly as he started across the trap floor to the control panel on the other side. "BUT ALPHYS IS VERY INTELLIGENT, WHICH IS WHY SHE WAS ALSO GIVEN A TRIAL. YOU'LL HAVE TO BEAT ME TO GET TO HER, THOUGH!"

"So, what do I have to do?" Frisk asked after absorbing this new information.

"IT'S EASY!" Papyrus said, and Sans very nearly choked on this assertion. "IN FRONT OF YOU IS A TILE FLOOR. ONCE I THROW THIS SWITCH, THE TILES WILL BEGIN TO CHANGE COLOR! EACH COLOR HAS A DIFFERENT FUNCTION!" The archangel grinned a little to himself as he put his hand out and rested it on the switch, clearly eager to throw it, but determined to play things by the book. "RED TILES ARE IMPASSABLE! YOU CANNOT WALK ON THEM! YELLOW TILES ARE-"

At this point, Sans tuned out his brother's wildly long winded explanation and watched Frisk's face instead. The longer Papyrus talked, the paler the girl got, and the tighter she clutched her make-shift walking stick. When the archangel was finally done talking, she didn't say a word to him, but turned to Sans instead, and Frisk didn't need to speak for him to know exactly what was going through her head.

"it'll be alright, kid," he said, completely serious as he reached out and gently grasped her shoulder. He could feel her trembling beneath his hand, and Sans found himself faced with a compulsion to wrap the child up in a tight hug. He refrained, though, thinking the unexpected show of affection would likely only frighten Frisk further, rather than reassure her. It felt like too much of a goodbye. So, instead, he gave her a gentle shake and said, "just take it one step at a time. i'll be waiting on the other side. you can do this."

He watched as Frisk gathered herself, then grit her teeth and nodded. Feeling a swell of pride in the girl for her determination, Sans gave her one last pat on the shoulder, then went to join his brother on the other side of the puzzle floor.

"READY?" Papyrus called to the girl.

Frisk nodded, and said, "As I'll ever be."

The archangel laughed and said, "THAT'S THE SPIRIT!" then threw the lever.

There was a loud hum as power surged through the floor, and a cacophony of beeps, whistles, and sirens blared from the machinery while it computed the new, completely random puzzle Frisk would have to face. Papyrus watched the lights flash and dance before them, but his brother's attention was all for the machine, next to which he had positioned himself.

Sans glanced sidelong up at Papyrus to be certain he was unobserved, then lashed out with a sharp kick that caught Alphys' machine in one corner and dented it severely. Thanks to all the noise it was already making, one more bang went completely unnoticed by his brother. If he was being technical (and he had never been technically inclined), Sans knew he was cheating. In his book, though, any kind of puzzle that took five minutes to explain, a scientist to design, and involved piranhas was basically cheating already, so really he was just leveling the playing field.

The lights on the floor flashed as one while Sans discretely kicked up a pile of snow to hide the damage he'd done. A small strangled noise from Papyrus brought his attention back to his brother, though, and it didn't take the seraphim long to figure out what had caused it.

Almost the entire floor had settled into a long block of pink tiles, edged along either side by red. Sans almost laughed outright in relief at this turn of events. He didn't know if it was pure luck, or if his assault on the machine had actually helped, but he wasn't about to look a gyftrot in the mouth over it.

"Um, is it done?" Frisk asked, shuffling uncertainly where she stood as the silence stretched on now that the machinery had cut out.

"YES," Papyrus managed to eek out, voice strangled.

When he didn't say anything else, Frisk tilted her head and asked, "Well, what's the tile in front of me?"

"PINK," the archangel answered tightly.

"Oh," the little girl said, brightening. "Those ones don't do anything, right?"

"THAT IS CORRECT."

Sans was leaning heavily against the control panel now, fighting with everything he had not to break out into gales of laughter. If he did, not only would Papyrus likely throw him off the nearest cliff, the seraphim would be laughing too hard to even do anything about it.

Frisk stepped forward, then asked, "What about the next one?"

"PINK," Papyrus repeated to the girl's obvious surprise.

"Oh! That's lucky! What's next?"

"ALSO PINK," the angel ground out.

"Seriously?" Frisk asked, becoming suspicious now as she stepped forward. It was obvious that he was being truthful, though, as nothing happened when she did. "Next?"

Papyrus was silent, and Sans sank into a crouch with his arms wrapped tight over his stomach as he took deep breaths to keep himself from so much as snickering.

The human thought for a moment, and then, hesitantly asked, "Papyrus, are they… are they all pink?"

The archangel's silence lasted several seconds longer before shattering. "SANS HOW COULD THIS POSSIBLY HAVE HAPPENED?!" he demanded as he rounded on his older brother who lost his hard fought battle and toppled over sideways into the snow, laughing so hard that tears threatened at the corner of his eyes.

Taking Papyrus' lack of direct answer for the yes it was, Frisk walked forward carefully.

"SANS, STOP THAT INCESSANT LAUGHING THIS INSTANT!" Papyrus demanded as he stomped one foot irritably, looking ready to commit violence on his essentially helpless older brother as he rolled about on the ground. The archangel stretched his red wings wide, nearly clipping Frisk in the head as she walked passed.

The girl clutched at her flower crown as it was almost knocked askew, then ducked a little to be certain she wasn't bowled over by the angel's wings. "Sans," she said and used her stick to poke the shorter of the two skeletons in the ribs with uncanny accuracy. "It's not nice to laugh at people like that," the little girl chided him, though she was only just managing to repress the urge herself. She certainly couldn't keep the wide smile off her small, round face in any case.

"THE HUMAN IS RIGHT, STOP BEING RUDE, SANS!" Papyrus said, then grabbed Frisk's walking stick out of her hand and proceeded to poke his brother with it repeatedly. While the human's attack had managed to land, Sans deftly fended off his brother's attempts with a swat of a hand before finally grabbing the end and using it to yank himself to his feet.

"alright, alright," he huffed, still a little breathless as he found his footing once more and brushed himself off. "i'd say don't be such a buzzkill, but considering your puzzle shorted out, i'd say it's a bit late for that."

Papyrus brought Frisk's stick up and then swung it down, fully intending to crack it sharply over his brother's head, but Sans just smiled and caught it mid-descent, then gave it a deft twist and tugged it effortlessly from the archangel's hand.

"HEY-" Papyrus began, only to be cut off.

"it's not nice to take other people's things, pap, especially if you're planning to do someone bodily harm with them. there's rules 'bout that." The seraphim smiled and twirled the stick a few times, then tapped Frisk's hand with one end, prompting her to take it back.

Frisk did so, though she had a thoughtful expression on her face while she listened to the two brothers. Though Papyrus had yet to say any more, his silence was more telling than anything he might have said. Adjusting her hold on her stick, she poked Sans lightly in the chest, and he allowed her to, arching a brow in question at her. She couldn't see him, but she could practically hear the look he was giving her.

"You should apologize to Papyrus," she told him.

"what?" Sans asked, amused as he glanced from the girl and up to his brother, whose feathers fluffed out in surprise at her statement.

"You should apologize when you hurt someone's feelings," Frisk said with a threatening wave of her stick. "Papyrus worked really hard on that and all the other puzzles. It's not nice to laugh at him just because he got upset when it didn't work." She lowered her stick again and planted it in the snow before her, hands resting on the handle. It was clear she didn't intend to budge until she got what she wanted.

"kid, you're sweet," Sans said with a chuckle. "but pap knows I didn't mean it like that, right?" he asked as he glanced up at his much taller brother. The archangel seemed intent on looking anywhere but at him, though, making the seraphim's confident grin slip a few degrees.

"You should be nice to family, Sans," Frisk said, close to giving a foot stomp of her own. Her expression turned sad as she added, "Always say you're sorry, cuz you never know when they won't be there to say sorry to anymore..."

Both angels were staring at her now, taken aback by this piece of wisdom from one so young. Sans wondered for the first time who the girl might have lost back on the surface, and when he glanced sidelong at Papyrus, he got the impression his brother was asking himself the same. Their eyes met briefly, but the archangel quickly averted his, though not before Sans saw the hurt there.

Realizing Frisk's statement wasn't without its merits, the seraphim sighed and murmured, "from the mouths of babes..." Maybe he'd been spending too much time alone after all. Sure, there was a certain peace to be found in solitude, but he was beginning to remember now that there was also peace to be found in the company of family and friends. If he kept going the way he was, though, it wouldn't be long before he alienated himself from what few of those he had left.

Suddenly feeling awkward, but also knowing that the words needed saying, Sans rubbed the back of his head absently and admitted, "the kid's right, bro. i'm sorry. you put a lot of work into all this and i've got no right to laugh at you."

Frisk beamed proudly at him, which only made the seraphim feel more awkward yet, and Papyrus stared at him like he'd spontaneously grown a second head.

"I-" he began, then paused and cleared his throat before continuing. "IT'S ALRIGHT, SANS. IN RETROSPECT, I GUESS IT IS PRETTY FUNNY."

The tension between them eased; Sans grinned up at his taller brother and very nearly confessed his crime. Only concern for Frisk brought him up short, as he knew Papyrus would likely insist she do a different puzzle since she had gotten 'help' on that one, and he wasn't about to put the kid through that.

"That was real nice of you, Sans," the little girl observed, still smiling happily.

As they all started walking again, the seraphim just huffed in amusement and said, "hey, don't go thinking you can push me around, kid."

"Bet you I can!" the girl replied cheekily and pushed at him with both hands. His stride did not falter so much as an inch, though, and he laughed when she pouted at this turn of events.

"FOR SOMEONE SO SMALL, HE IS TERRIBLY HEAVY, ISN'T HE?" Papyrus observed sympathetically. Then, in a whispered aside to Frisk that was comically loud despite the way he shielded his mouth with one gloved hand, the archangel added, "I KEEP TELLING HIM TO LAY OFF THE CHEESEBURGERS, BUT-"

Without missing a stride, Sans scooped up a handful of snow, rolled it expertly into a ball, then threw it with an marksman's aim directly into his brother's face.

Papyrus sputtered and wiped furtively at his eyes. "SANS! YOU GOT IT IN MY EYE SOCKETS!" the taller angel complained as he shook his head in an attempt to dislodge the offending snow. When he had, he rolled up a snowball of his own and flung it at his brother.

Sans sidestepped neatly, though, and the shot went wide. "ice try, bro," he said and snickered.

"UGH," Papyrus said. Then, with a glimmer in his eye, he turned to Frisk and said "SMALL HUMAN, I SUGGEST A TEMPORARY ALLIANCE! I WILL HOLD MY BROTHER DOWN, YOU WILL SMOOSH SNOW INTO HIS FACE SO I MAY GET MY VENGEANCE!"

"what," Sans said.

Frisk laughed and nodded eagerly, "Okay!"

"hey, come on now," Sans began as they both rounded on him with matching grins of frightening wickedness.

"Better run, Sans!" Frisk said in a sing-song voice. "We're gonna get you!"

"BETTER YET, DO NOT RUN, SANS. IT WILL BE MUCH EASIER TO 'GET YOU' THAT WAY."

"yo, screw that noise," Sans declared as he spun on heel and sprinted off down the path. "good snowin' ya!" he called back over his shoulder.

"SANS GET BACK HERE AND TAKE YOUR MEDICINE YOU AWFUL PUNSTER!" Papyrus shouted as he bolted off after his brother. He doubled back almost immediately to collect Frisk, though. He tucked the girl under one boney arm and she laughed wildly while clinging to the archangel as he ran, cheering him on as he gave chase after Sans.

They never did catch up to the seraphim, though. For all he barely came up to his younger brother's waist, he was quite a lot more agile on the ground, and startlingly fast. Even the mighty leaps and bounds Papyrus took through the woods with the help of his red wings didn't help, as Sans would double back behind them before the archangel's boots even hit the ground.

Frisk laughed through it all, one arm looped around Papyrus', the other maintaining a tight hold on her flower crown, lest she lose it in the chase. She was breathless by the time they finally came to a stop.

"Did you get him?" she asked brightly, turning her head so she could best listen to her 'ride'.

"NO," Papyrus admitted with a deep sigh as he carefully put the girl back on her feet. "SADLY, MY BROTHER IS EXCEEDINGLY TALENTED AT GAMES OF CHASE. A BAFFLING SKILL CONSIDERING HOW SHORT HIS LEGS ARE."

Another snowball smacked Papyrus in the face, making him sputter and Frisk object when the remains dropped down onto her head. The girl tugged off her crown and brushed the snow from her hair before replacing it and asking, "So, where are we? The next puzzle?"

"it's the bridge between snowdin forest and the town itself," Sans explained as he approached, grinning at his brother who was struggling to reign in the urge to chase after him again. The grimace of annoyance dropped off the archangel's face at his brother's words, though, and he went very still when he looked up and realized where they were.

Seeing this, Sans' brow furrowed and he asked, "you alright, pap?"

Papyrus gave a guilty start as he tore his eyes from the gently swaying rope bridge that spanned the gorge before them and looked down at the seraphim. "WHAT? YES, I'M FINE," he insisted in a way that did not convince Sans in the least.

The prospect of actually making it into town was enough to belay the seraphim's questions for later, though. So instead, Sans turned to Frisk and said, "the bridge is a real nasty number. you'd best let me or papyrus carry you." The little girl frowned fiercely in his direction, and despite having known her all of two days, Sans knew precisely what she was about to say. Before she could do so, he added, "i'm not trying to baby you, kid. It's a rickety hanging bridge with no railings that sways like a bi-" The angel's teeth clicked together audibly as he censored himself, and a huff of amusement escaped him before he pressed on. "sways to all get out when you're on it. doesn't get used much on account of everyone around here, you know...being able to fly."

He was practically the only one that used the thing these days, in fact. The unsteady construction of rope and wood was one that made even him wary, enough so that he'd actually gotten together rope to make a handrail for it. Unfortunately, he hadn't actually done that yet, so…

"O-oh," Frisk stammered at this news, blanching a little at his description. She was a brave girl, but even she had her limits; Sans was just glad she was self aware enough to know them. "Alright, that's okay I guess," she continued, then reached out towards him.

Again, the unquestioning trust she placed in him to keep her safe cut through him like someone had slipped a dagger up between his ribs. He'd just described a veritable death trap of a bridge but she trusted him to carry her across it to safety.

Trying very hard to push down the swell of emotion that threatened at her words (again), Sans stepped forward to pick the child up, only to be brought up short by Papyrus, who said, "NO, YOU CAN'T!"

"what?" Sans asked, one brow shooting up immediately at his brother's exclamation and the desperation that was writ clear over his angular face. "why?"

"WELL..." Papyrus began, shifting uncomfortably as his eyes, yet again, were drawn back to the bridge while Frisk frowned in confusion between them.

Sans' eyes narrowed and his smile dropped altogether.

"what did you do?" he asked, and there was something new in the seraphim's voice that Frisk had never heard before. She'd thought her strange new friend had a nice voice from the moment she met him, though she'd been terrified at the time. It was very low; lower than most adults' back home, with a cadence that still somehow managed to be light and friendly. When he laughed, she wanted to laugh too. Sans had a friendly voice, and being sightless as Frisk was, a person's voice went a long ways towards forming her mental picture of them.

Now, though, there was something lurking beneath Sans' words that she had never heard before. It was as if some great leviathan were stirring beneath the waves that were her friend's voice, reminding the girl with shocking abruptness that she knew precious little about either of these people, no matter how much she might like them.

The air around her felt charged and heavy, like the world had gone very still in anticipation of something important about to unfold.

Sans' eyelights had snuffed out, leaving only wide, dark holes for his brother to stare into; something he couldn't not do, no matter how he tried. Not when the seraphim spoke in that tone. Without realizing it, the older skeleton had unveiled his wings, and ruined or not, they flared hugely behind him, dwarfing his brother's crimson ones. Long-unused power rose from within the seraphim, starting behind his breastbone and spreading out until it poured off every inch of him to fill the air.

"what did you do?" he asked a second time, words commanding his brother to answer truthfully.

"NOTHING," Papyrus gasped, knees in danger of buckling at the weight of his brother's will pressing against his own.

Stars above, he'd forgotten. He'd forgotten the power Sans held within him even now with one ruined wing. Then again, the seraphim had made it so very easy to forget it in the two hundred years since the fall when he'd failed in his attempt to shatter the barrier that kept them all down there. He'd been ambling about in shabby clothes playing the harmless jokester for so long now that Papyrus knew he wasn't the only one who had conveniently forgotten that Sans was one of the most powerful people in the Underground.

There was a reason he was keeper of the sixth trial, after all.

His brother would never harm him; Papyrus knew that to be one of the fundamental truths of the universe in the same way he knew up was up, down was down, and the sky, though very far from them now, was blue. That did not, however, mean that Sans might not become very, very angry with him.

"S-sans?"

Frisk's small, shaking voice cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter and made Papyrus start and finally break Sans' gaze. It was the girl's small hand on his arm that broke the seraphim from his intense state, though, and made him realize what had happened.

The lights flared back to life in his eye sockets and Sans took a breath. He glanced at Frisk and opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but one look told the skeleton all he needed to know. His little display of power had shaken the girl, and an intense wave of guilt for being the cause of her fright drove him to shift his arm so he caught her hand with his.

"i'm sorry," he said immediately as he veiled his wings once more, and Frisk was relieved to hear the strangeness gone from his voice. Sans glanced up at Papyrus so his brother would know the words were meant for him as well. The archangel nodded his acceptance and the seraphim barely restrained a sigh of relief. It had been a long time since he'd used any sort of divine power, but the prospect of something awful being inflicted on the little girl clutching his hand had been enough to drive him to it without a backwards glance.

He was beginning to think the girl was dangerous after all. Not for any threat she posed herself, but because of what he might feel compelled to do on her behalf...

Sans took another breath and then smiled softly at Frisk. Her head had dropped so he could not see her face, so he gave her hand a gentle shake and asked, "you okay kid?" She didn't answer, but tightened her hold on him, so he spoke again, tone gentler yet. "did i scare you?"

Silence, and then, "A little," she admitted.

"i'm sorry," he repeated again. "i just..." the seraphim's free hand rubbed the back of his skull absently and his breath all rushed out of him in one noisy whoosh. "i worry about you, kid," he admitted with a wry smile.

Frisk's sightless hazel eyes went wide as she turned her face up towards him once. "Really?" she asked.

Sans laughed. "well, yeah."

"'Cuz we're friends?" the girl asked, a smile creeping back across her features.

The seraphim's brows shot up in surprise at the suggestion, then dropped as his smile widened. Who could possibly say no to that? "yeah, cuz we're friends, frisk. dunno what's possessed me to put my street cred at risk for a huge nerd like you, but-"

A little squeal of displeasure escaped the girl and she pushed at him, making him laugh. "You're so rude!" she said, but he only laughed more. Despite this, Frisk maintained her hold on the seraphim as she turned to Papyrus, who had remained curiously silent through this exchange, and offered him her free hand after tucking her walking stick under her arm. "We're friends too, right Papyrus?" she asked hopefully.

Sans turned to regard his brother and watched the archangel reach out as though to accept, only to snatch his gloved hand back at the last moment, a small tremor wracking his tall frame. The seraphim quirked a brow at this, smile dropping as his younger brother took a step back, eyes shooting to the bridge again.

"I-I CAN'T," he said finally.

The way Frisk's face fell at his words was heartbreaking. Sans winced and it wasn't even directed at him. Papyrus flinched visibly and took another step back.

"YOU HAVE TO FIGHT ME, FIRST," he declared suddenly.

"What? Now?" Frisk asked, startled. "I thought there was another puzzle?"

Sans' eyes narrowed again as he watched Papyrus shake his head and say "NO MORE PUZZLES, SMALL HUMAN, IT IS TIME TO FACE THE FINAL PART OF THE TRIAL: ME."

Papyrus, the seraphim realized abruptly, didn't want Frisk to face whatever was built into the bridge. So much so that he'd rather the girl fight him then and there because he felt it was safer for her to face an archangel than a puzzle.

Sans had crossed that bridge many times and never stopped to wonder if it, too, were a trap of some kind. It had stood for time out of mind, since they'd all wound up down there. Besides him, only the occasional human that fell into the Underground ever made use of it, so it made sense that it might also be a puzzle of some sort. Judging by the way Papyrus was hedging, though, it wasn't one of his design. It must have been left behind by the previous trial keeper before they'd met their unfortunate end at the hand of the last human that had passed through Snowdin.

"But I-" Frisk began, brow furrowing unhappily as she dropped her hand at her side.

She stopped when Sans gave her hand a gentle squeeze, though, and said, "it's time, kid."

Frisk turned to him, on the verge of tears.

Sans looked at Papyrus and jerked his head towards the bridge, "give us a minute."

The archangel hesitated, then nodded and made his way towards the bridge and stationed himself like a sentry before it, his back to them.

"I don't want to fight him," Frisk said for the second time in as many days when he'd gone, voice barely a whisper.

"i know you're scared, frisk," Sans said as he released his hold on her in favor placing a hand on each of her thin shoulders.

The girl shook her head. "It's not just that."

The seraphim sighed and nodded. "i know," he said again. It was obvious that Frisk was fond of his brother, and it was just as obvious that Papyrus felt the same. He shouldn't have let them become so chummy over the course of the trial, he knew, but how could he have possibly denied either of them? It'd been decades since he'd last seen his brother have an afternoon of honest fun the way he had yesterday. And Frisk? Well, the two numbskulls were like a couple of peas in a pod with their love of puzzles, her energy matching Papyrus' perfectly, quite possibly making her the only person in the Underground capable of keeping up with him for any stretch of time. "but you have to," he finished, and the girl didn't have to see the frown on his face to know how unhappy that made him.

"How?" she asked, seeming smaller than ever as she stood before him, cowed in the face of what was expected of her.

He had no idea.

As he looked her up and down, though, Sans' gaze lit upon her make-shift cane. "give me your stick," he told her.

Frisk's brow furrowed, but did as she was told. Sans took it from her and twirled it absently, getting a feel for it in a way he hadn't taken the time to do before. A deft spin sent it soaring up into the air, then dropping back to land in the seraphim's waiting hand. It was well balanced, he noted, a little heavy on the top end, but that was best for a walking stick. Or a bat.

Smiling slyly to himself, Sans said, "step back, kiddo."

"Sans, what are you doing?" Frisk asked warily, but stepped back a healthy distance all the same, her worry forgotten for the moment in the face of her friend's odd behavior.

"oh just...leveling the playing field," he told her. "now keep quiet so i can work."

Sans held the walking stick vertically in one hand before him, the other hovering over the top end as he summoned his power for the second time that day. This time, though, he did it with intent, and the answering surge of divine energy that roared up from the depths of his soul nearly rocked him back on his heels. The seraphim quickly reigned it in until it was a controlled hum racing along his bones that sprang forth to do his bidding as he began to speak.

The series of words Sans spoke next made Frisk's ears burn and her teeth ache. In an attempt to relieve the discomfort, the little girl clapped her hands over her ears and clamped her mouth shut tight. No matter how hard she pressed, though, his words echoed just as loud, as though they were actually in her mind rather than the air between them.

Power wove itself around Frisk's walking stick, guided by the complicated enochian spell Sans wove on her behalf. By the time he was done, the seraphim was breathing hard, and if he'd had skin, he would have been sweating. It'd been a long time since he'd done that sort of magic, and thanks to his ruined wing, it had never before been so difficult. When he let the power fade, though, and he looked at his handiwork, Sans knew it was worth it.

The seraphim smiled smugly to himself, then handed the stick back to Frisk with a casual, "there you go."

"It's warm," she mumbled as she accepted it and ran her fingers over its length. She could feel no obvious physical difference in his gift to her, though the longer she held it, the more she realized it remained warm to the touch, and buzzed with a subtle energy she could only just make out.

"Yeah, it'll probably stay that way," Sans said with a shrug as he caught his breath. Though no one else would notice his cunning spellwork unless they were specifically looking for it, he could see it plain as day. The pale wood shone with slowly shifting enochian symbols denoting protection, guidance, durability, accuracy, and a few other things he'd expertly interwoven and sunk deep into its length.

"What did you do?" Frisk asked curiously, brow furrowed a little as she added, "It almost feels… alive or something." Indeed, the magic that now inhabited her walking stick seemed to pulse under her fingers, strong and slow like the heartbeat of something far larger than herself.

Sans tilted his head this way and that as he debated on his answer. "made it stronger for you," he answered eventually, deciding to keep it simple. "you'll be able to fend of magic attacks now, which you're gonna need if you're gonna get through this fight with pap." He grinned, then, and added, "like i said, just wanted to level the playing field for you."

"Oh," Frisk said, awed as she ran her fingers over her stick for the umpteenth time. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to the pleasant hum of it against her skin. The longer she held it, the more attuned to the sensation she became. "Thank you," the girl said, perfectly earnest as she stepped forward and threw her arms around Sans. "It… it means a lot, you worrying about me and doing..." she waved her stick a little behind his back, "this for me."

Sans was much quicker to return the gesture this time than he had in times past. Repeated exposure seemed to be relieving him of the shock of unexpected hugs, and he found he was able to enjoy them a little more. "no problem," he said quietly, just as earnest as he gave the child a brief squeeze. He pushed her back out to arm's length after a moment, though, and said, "time to listen up, though. i don't think pap is gonna let us dally much longer, so pay attention."

The seraphim glanced back towards his brother, and while Papyrus still stood with his back to them, apparently oblivious to the magic Sans had been working, the older angel could tell by the way the archangel was shifting that he was becoming impatient.

Luckily, Frisk caught on to the importance of the moment, and nodded, stick clutched in both hands as she waited for him to speak.

"papyrus is… well, papyrus is a good guy, frisk," Sans began with a rueful smile that made the girl tilt her head to one side, brow furrowed as though wondering why he was telling her the obvious. "the best of guys, if we're being honest. way better than me," the seraphim chuckled at his own admission, then added, "if you ever tell him i said that, though, i'll deny it."

"You should tell him that, though," Frisk said with a small frown. "Why wouldn't you tell him that all the time if you think it?"

Sans opened his mouth to answer, but no words came so he snapped his mouth shut with a click once more. He glanced back over his shoulder at Papyrus, his brow furrowed at the girl's innocent question. Once again she was holding his feet to the flames when it came to his brother, and though his first instinct was to say that Papyrus knew what Sans thought of him, he was forced to check that assumption. Did his little brother know how proud he was of him? Did Papyrus know that his older brother admired the open, ever hopeful way he was able to look at the world, and how he always gave people the benefit of the doubt? Had Sans ever actually told him that he'd drag the world down around all their ears if he thought there was the slightest chance it'd mean Papyrus would be able to see the sky again? He'd never admitted that it wasn't just getting back to Ellie that had driven him to throw himself against the barrier that separated them from the world above over and over again until his already injured left wing had been damaged beyond repair. The prospect of his little brother being trapped in that grave-like dark had been pushing him just as hard as thoughts of her had been pulling.

Sans grit his teeth and took a deep breath before turning his attention back to Frisk. "you've gotta stop doing these emotional numbers on me kid," he said, voice rough as he tried to laugh it off. Before she could say anything, he grabbed her shoulder again and gave it a shake. "not now. you're right, i need to talk to my brother more, but we need to get you through this trial first, alright?"

Frisk frowned but nodded. "Alright," she said. "Tell me what I need to know."

The seraphim nodded, feeling a little relieved that she'd agreed to drop the subject for now. He'd forgotten the uncanny ability some children had to put adults on the spot with seemingly simple questions that had anything but simple answers. Had he been like that as a kid? He barely even remembered his childhood anymore. God, had he ever been that young?

Sans gave himself a shake before he slipped back into thought again. "like i was saying, pap's a great guy; he doesn't want to fight you, but it's his job so he'll do it anyways. he'll beg you to just give in so he can take you to the capital without hurting you," Sans explained. "whatever you do, you cannot let him do that. let him take you and you're as good as dead."

Frisk looked shaken at his words. "I thought you said he didn't want to hurt me?" she asked, voice tight.

"he doesn't," the seraphim clarified. "but the person he'd take you to will. pap doesn't know. asgore never told him, and i didn't either because i know it'd just make things harder on him," Sans said tiredly.

"But shouldn't he know?" Frisk asked, voice going up an octave. "Maybe he'd stop! Maybe he wouldn't do the trial anymore if he knew people were getting hurt!"

"kid, pap doesn't have a choice in this either way. none of the angels running the trials do, you understand?" Sans said, voice gone hard at this admission. The girl in front of him was on the verge of tears again and the skeleton had to force his eyes away to save himself the pain of watching her.

"I thought angels were supposed to be nice," the girl sniffled as she wiped furtively at her damp eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. "Why does everyone but you want to hurt me, Sans?" she asked, eyes gone wide as she turned her face up to him, bottom lip caught between her teeth in an attempt to keep from crying.

There was that stabbing sensation in his heart again. It practically winded him, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel like throwing up a bit. How would she react if she knew that he too was tasked with bringing her heart to Asgore? Would that vibrant, determined spirit of hers crumple before his eyes? Would she wail and cry, or just go quiet and numb as he had seen others do? Would she lay down and give up?

Would she hate him?

"kid," Sans said, unable to keep the pain from his voice as he pulled one hand into his sleeve and used the cuff to wipe away the tears that had begun rolling down her reddened cheeks. "kid, none of us want to hurt you. but we-"

"Don't have a choice," she finished unhappily.

Sans was silent as he finished cleaning her up. "yeah," he said finally, heart cold and heavy as ice in his chest.

---

Frisk's grip on the stick Sans had given her tightened as she waited for Papyrus to speak. She could hear him a few yards ahead of her, breathing quick but steady as he shifted slightly from one foot to the other. The soft, silk sigh of feathers betrayed the restless flexing of his wings. Behind him was the distant creak of the old wood and rope bridge to Snowdin that swayed gently in a chill wind that surged up and over the cliffs from the depths of the Underground.

Sans was somewhere nearby, but unlike his larger brother, he made no movement that betrayed his presence, though the girl dearly wished he would.

She shivered and grit her teeth.

"HUMAN… FRISK. PLEASE GIVE UP AND COME WITH ME, I DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU," Papyrus said, just as Sans had predicted, distress clear in his voice.

"I don't want you to hurt me either," she said with a weak smile as she adjusted her stance, ready to move at the slightest sound of movement.

"THEN-"

"I can't. I'll never be able to go home if I do," Frisk insisted unhappily. "Please, just let me pass, Papyrus! I don't want to fight!"

Though she couldn't see it, a pained expression passed over the archangel's face as he watched her set her shoulders, determined to make it past his trial. "I'M SORRY," he said. "I-I DON'T HAVE A CHOICE."

A sad smile stole across the girl's features and she said, "I know."

Papyrus nodded, then swept his right hand through the air before him, the fabric of reality rippling in the wake of its passing. A flick of his wrist plunged his hand into the dark void that made up the space between places, and when he pulled it free again, he held a glittering rapier of unnatural sharpness.

Frisk heard him flick the long blade up in salute, perfectly honed steel singing through the air at the slightest movement. Sans' words of warning came immediately to mind at the sound.

'whatever you do, keep your distance. pap's weapon of preference is a rapier, and i'm not fooling when i say he's so fast with the damned thing that it wouldn't matter if your eyes did work, because you'd still never see him coming.'

The silken sigh of feathers shifting was all the warning Frisk had, but it was enough. Papyrus lunged forward, closing the distance between them with shocking speed. The girl threw herself to the side and rolled when she hit the ground, bouncing to her feet and reorienting herself as her opponent skidded to a stop just shy of the tree-line some distance away.

Papyrus turned and took his stance once more, surprised by her quick movements. He'd been aiming to disarm her of her stick and pin her in hope of scaring her into surrender, but he'd failed. The archangel glanced up at his brother who stood watching silently beside the bridge. His face was carefully neutral, though the white lights of his eyes followed their every movement across the snow.

The taller skeleton wondered unhappily if his brother would ever forgive him for capturing the human girl who had so thoroughly captivated the both of them with her sweet smile, bravery, and kind heart. Never mind that Papyrus would likely never forgive himself; he hadn't seen Sans act so close with someone that wasn't him since the fall. He felt cruel, taking that from the seraphim when he had already lost so much. They had all lost a lot when they'd been trapped in the Underground, but Sans had fared worse than most.

Papyrus took a breath and lunged again, and found himself rushing through empty air instead of into Frisk. To the archangel's mounting frustration, a third and fourth attempt each played out the same. While his wing assisted lunges let him close the distance between himself and an opponent quickly, he moved in a straight line for quite some ways if he missed. The snow on the ground only made stopping more difficult. The archangel gave up on this and ran at the girl instead, only for her to bolt, zig-zagging this way and that across the open space between the bridge and the tree-line so quickly that even his long legs couldn't keep up.

"WHY DO PEOPLE WITH SUCH SHORT LEGS RUN SO FAST?" Papyrus demanded as he made a grab for the girl, only to miss and slip on a patch of ice, sending him to the ground in a tangle of his own long limbs. Frisk danced quickly out of arm's reach, panting as she caught her breath.

"Papyrus, let's stop," she said hopefully. "This isn't fun. I wanna… I wanna do more puzzles with you! And I really want to try your spaghetti! Can't we do that instead?"

A distant snort of amusement allowed the girl to orient on Sans, making her smile a briefly though she quickly turned her attention back to Papyrus. The archangel was slowly pushing himself back to his feet. His breath was labored, more so than their brief bout of running should have made possible, making her worry for him.

"Pap?" she asked, make-shift cane clutched tight in her small hands as her brow furrowed in concern. "Pap are you alright?"

From where he stood beside the bridge, Sans immediately recognized his brother's distress for what it was. The seraphim was forced to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from calling out to Papyrus; he couldn't interfere. This was his brother's fight, not his…

That's what he kept telling himself anyways.

"JUST-" Papyrus began, voice tight as he gained his feet once more and thrust his rapier into the belt at his hips, head bowed in an attempt to hide his distress. "JUST HOLD STILL!"

The archangel's hand snapped up and he spoke a word that made the air between them crackle and groan like something under terrible pressure. Alarmed at this turn in the battle, Frisk raised her stick before her in fear of some oncoming strike she could not make out. Rather than a blow to her person, though, the girl felt her legs go numb as ice sprang up beneath her feet, rooting her in place before crawling swiftly up the length of her body.

'all angels are able to use magic, kiddo, not just me. enochian harnesses the divine power in us and lets us change the world around us. how powerful they are depends on the individual, and so does their preferred method of attack. papyrus has always been good with ice, so watch your step and keep moving.'

Just as the magic passed her waist, Frisk swung her stick down hard against her own ice encased legs. There was a bright flash and suddenly she was free, stumbling away, legs sluggish but rallying quickly as warmth returned to them.

"WHAT?!" Papyrus demanded, taken aback and baffled by this turn. "BUT-" Frisk was already fleeing, though, so he stopped demanding answers and acted instead.

The archangel spoke a string of words this time and lifted both hands to eye level. The movement stirred the air and set it ringing like a hundred tiny wind chimes as quickly forming ice crystals clashed inward at his command, forming a dozen icicles as long as Frisk was tall. Papyrus jerked both arms down diagonally, launching the projectiles at the human's retreating back, aiming to pin her in place or trip her up.

Frisk heard them coming, though was not so adept that she could hope to dodge the attack. Desperate, she skidded to a stop in the snow and turned sharply to face the onslaught head on, swinging her stick like a bulk of the icicles flew past her and thudded deep into the ground behind her. Another shot straight between her legs, and the last she smashed from the air with a strike that rang like a bell.

Again there was a flash of light at the impact, but this time Papyrus realized what had happened.

"SANS!" the archangel bellowed, "YOU'RE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS, AREN'T YOU?!"

"what's that, bro?" Sans asked innocently from where he stood. He hadn't budged so much as a step the entire battle, though it had taken all of his willpower to keep himself firmly in place. Whatever happened was wholly between Papyrus and Frisk, he couldn't let himself have any part of it beyond what he had already done. His hands were fisted tight in the pockets of his worn jacket, and his teeth hurt from gritting them so tight as he watched the girl avoid one attack after another, just as he had told her to. "looks like you two are having a blast to me."

"THE STICK! YOU BLESSED THE STICK, DIDN'T YOU?"

"no rules against that," the seraphim hedged.

Papyrus threw his arms in the air, seeming disgusted. "YOU TURNED A STICK INTO A HOLY RELIC, SANS! THAT IS SACRILEGE!"

Sans scoffed and waved a hand dismissively. "it is not sacrilege, pap. there's no rules on what you turn into a holy relic."

"THEY'RE MEANT TO BE SWORDS AND SHIELDS AND- AND GOBLETS AND THINGS, SANS! NO ONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD THINK TO TURN A STICK INTO A HOLY RELIC, THAT'S WHY THERE'S NO RULES ABOUT IT!"

Well, his brother wasn't wrong. Seraphim and the Creator were the only ones capable of creating 'holy relics': items of tremendous power that repelled evil with their very presence. The last one Sans had made was a sword some king wound up using to take over an entire island after he'd pulled it from the rock the seraphim had left it sunk up to the hilt in. He'd always meant to go back for it later. The king's reign had turned into a mess after awhile, though, and last Sans had heard the sword was at the bottom of a lake somewhere. He never had gotten around to fetching it back…

Needless to say, a human with their hands on a holy relic could change the world if they swung it right. The one he had gifted to Frisk was of unusually humble origins, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't wonder just how that might… affect things.

"i was just leveling the playing field is all," Sans said with a smile as he waved a hand at the sword on the archangel's belt. "you've got a holy relic of your own, plus magic. least i could do was give her a weapon of her own."

Papyrus grumbled a little at this, but it occurred to the seraphim that he was not doing so very energetically. Perhaps he felt a little better that Frisk was not quite so helpless as he'd initially thought. Fighting a blind ten year old was bad enough without fighting a blind, unarmed, ten year old.

As the brothers argued, Frisk ran her fingers over her stick once more, awed by the roar of power that had surged through it when it had clashed with Papyrus' magic and turned the ice into snow. It pulsed against the skin of her palms, warm and reassuring as she squeezed it tight in silent gratitude.

She heard Papyrus turn back towards her, and the girl readied herself for the next attack, heart pounding almost painfully behind her ribs. She was still afraid (terrified, really), but the soft hum of magic emanating from her stick helped Frisk keep her head and focus. Knowing she had the ability to defend herself made all the difference in the world. Sans really hadn't been joking when he said he'd give her a fighting chance.

Granted, that didn't mean she wanted to fight Papyrus any more than she had five minutes ago.

Papyrus was moving again, so Frisk did the same, keeping the distance between them wide so he wouldn't have an opportunity to use his sword against her. Even with a magic stick she knew she'd have no chance against him, Sans had told her as much and she believed him wholeheartedly. A faint tingling sensation rippled up her spine, and a moment later Papyrus spoke another spell, different from the last.

The ground at her feet trembled, and Frisk broke into a run as spire of ice erupted behind her, pursuing the girl across the clearing. Acting on blind hope, she pulled a loop when she feared she was coming too close to the cliff (was Sans allowed to warn her of that? It was impossible to say without taking time she didn't have to ask) and doubled back on the growing wall of ice. She knew she was nearing from the way sound bounced off its jagged surface and back towards her. When she was barely a yard away, she lashed out with her stick and whooped when it shattered a hole through the ice with a second bell toll, allowing her to leap through.

The sound of magical pursuit died off, leading the girl to think the archangel's magic must not be capable of passing through itself with that particular spell, something she filed away for later. A word from Papyrus made the entire thing explode into a cloud of snow that fell to the ground and surged towards her in a mighty wave like an avalanche without the mountain. It swept Frisk from her feet with a startled cry, tumbling her head over tail back towards the archangel.

Knowing it would be the end of the fight if he were to get his hands on her, the girl rolled desperately onto her stomach under the onslaught, feeling as though she were swimming against a mighty tide, and thrust her cane down as hard as she could. Despite the ground being frozen, and the stick not at all sharp, it plunged into the earth, serving as an anchor for Frisk to cling to as the charmed snow roared past. When it had, she dropped to the ground spitting ice and shaking snow from her hair. Against all odds, her flower crown was still in place on her head, just barely. As Frisk got to her feet, she straightened it and pulled it down a little tighter for fear of losing it before turning to face Papyrus once more.

The archangel was breathing hard now, and Frisk wondered just how difficult magic was for angels. Worried for her tall friend, the girl called, "Please, Papyrus! Someone is going to get hurt if we keep doing this! I'm..." she hesitated for a moment and, shaking from both cold and fear, said "I'm afraid!"

"IF YOU ARE AFRAID," Papyrus said as he fought to catch his breath, "THEN YOU MUST FIGHT."

"I won't!" Frisk shouted furiously, anger bringing some of the warmth back to her small, frigid frame. "I won't hurt a friend just because of some… of some stupid trial and its stupid rules!" Unshakeable determination gave the girl's words a steely edge that made Papyrus take a step back in surprise. "I'm going home," Frisk shouted, tears springing to her sightless eyes, "and I'm gonna do it without hurting anyone; I don't care how much you dumb angels argue with me!"

Sans bit back a laugh, torn between admiration and despair at the girl's declaration. Frisk's passionate words shook her small body with their force, and the seraphim's own breath hitched in his chest. Terror, absolute terror for what the brave child challenging his brother still had to face shook Sans to the core; but at the same time he felt so fucking proud of her for shouting down the establishment that he wanted to laugh.

A small, despondent noise was all the response Papyrus could muster, and Sans could do nothing but pity his brother. His heart was so clearly not in the fight, but he was compelled to fulfill his duty, so he fought on. Frisk was finding her stride with the battle, though, while the archangel was quickly draining his magical reserves trying to capture her. Just as Frisk would not lay a hand (or stick) on him, though, Papyrus would not lash out with the intent to harm. The fight would have been over in a moment if he had…

But he refused.

Another ice wall was summoned, but Frisk broke through it. Icy tendrils grasped at her ankles like creeping vines, but she danced nimbly out of their reach. Swaying where he stood, Papyrus raised his arms once more and spoke a long string of enochian that boomed across the clearing and summoned every patch of snow there into something resembling a massive serpent that followed his every gesture. Where Frisk fled, it circled and shifted, corralling her closer to its master until she struck one section of its body with her weapon, creating an opening for her to dodge through.

In a final act of desperation, Papyrus guided the serpent upwards into a massive arc that plunged headlong towards Frisk. Realizing it was too large to hope to flee, the human gripped her staff in both hands and lifted it above her head.

The two forces met with a quite 'whumph' that erupted into a deafening boom and knocked both fighters clean off their feet.

Sans was halfway across the clearing before he'd even realized he'd moved. To his immense relief, Frisk was already stirring, unsteadily fighting her way clear of a newly formed snowbank. Papyrus, on the other hand, lay face down in the snow, unmoving.

"bro!" Sans said as he slid to a stop and dropped immediately to his knees next to his younger brother. "papyrus? speak to me, buddy," the seraphim said, heart pounding quick and panicky in his chest as he struggled to cradle the larger skeleton as best he could.

A soft groan escaped Papyrus, then, and Sans could have fainted with relief. "I AM...VERY TIRED," the archangel said, eyes shut and words barely above a whisper.

A laugh that landed just this side of hysteria escaped Sans and he said, "who, you? never thought i'd see the day. that was some flashy magic back there, pap."

Hurried, unsteady steps heralded Frisk's arrival and she caught herself on Sans' shoulder before she ploughed right over him and Papyrus. "Is he okay?" she asked, wide-eyed and worried. "Did he get hurt?"

"he'll be alright, kid," Sans said with a weak chuckle. "you tired him out, is all. too much magic all at once can do that to an angel."

"Oh," Frisk said, a dangerous tremor in her voice. She dropped to her knees beside him and sniffled. "Oh,that's good. I'm… I'm so glad," the girl added, smiling broadly as tears poured down her cheeks.

"yeah," the seraphim agreed, heartily wishing he could have a good cry himself without looking a fool. He hadn't even been the one fighting. Papyrus should be the one cutting loose. Instead of tears, though, a snore escaped the archangel whose head now rested in Sans' lap, startling a laugh from his older brother.

"Is he snoring?" Frisk demanded wetly as she mopped at her face with a sleeve, giggling at the absurdity of the situation.

Sans just laughed and dropped his head, shoulders shaking with the force of it. He wiped tears of what he would swear up and down was mirth from the corners of his eyes and nodded. "yeah, think so, kiddo," he said and turned his gaze heavenward as he caught his breath and got himself under control once more. When he dropped his eyes back to the little girl beside him, he asked, "you know what that means?"

"What?" she asked, pausing the in middle of giving Papyrus' arm a gentle pat, her head tilting to one side curiously.

"you won, kid. you beat the second trial," Sans informed her with a grin that threatened to split his skull right in two. "pap can't fight anymore so-"

"So I win!" Frisk finished for him, her face lighting up with a smile that put the sun to shame. Her delight warmed Sans' heart and compelled him to reach out and wrap her up in a one-armed hug, dragging her in tight against his side.

"you sure did, frisk," he said and chuckled as he squeezed her tight, making her squeal and laugh. "i'm proud of you, kid."

Flushing red at the praise, Frisk buried her face in his shoulder and said, "Thanks, Sans."

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IMPORTANT QUESTION: I already asked at the top but i'll do so again for those that skipped – do you guys want shorter updates more frequently? Or do you like having super long, less frequent updates like this one? Please drop a review and let me know! Also let me know what you think of the chapter! I'm posting these as I finish, so getting reviews really helps me keep plugging along with writing!