Author's note: This story is based on the Undertale AU, SecuriTale created by the very talented tekitourabbit her amazing work can be found here: tekitourabbit* deviantart* com / (replace the asterisks with periods and remove the spaces.)
Undertale and related characters belong to the amazing Toby Fox
Something about me:
Lately, when I am reading these chapters aloud, Sans has a Boston accent and Papyrus has a high-Boston accent. (Yes I read the chapters aloud to catch grammar mistakes, do not judge.) I do not know where this is coming from; right now I cannot even do Brooklyn if I try. The boys started out in Brooklyn I swear.
Two things about this AU:
First, Papyrus and Sans are age swapped (Papyrus is the elder.)
Second, Sans has more than one HP, more on that later; for now enjoy.
Chapter song: Enemy Fire by Bea Miller
Chapter 3
Somewhere in the multiverse someone whispered:
Cimmerian shade, twilight's gloom, furthermore blackest pitch
The ride home was quiet and uneventful; Sans dozed off in the front seat, Papyrus was overly polite to the rude drivers, and Frisk Dreemurr spent the majority of it looking out the window toward Mount Ebott. The young woman had headphones set cockeyed on her head, so she could hear her two guardians if need be, listening to The Sounds of Rain from around the World. Frisk began to feel uneasy as they grew closer to home. All of the uncomfortable and awkward moments of the day began to stand out; in stark relief against the backdrop of complete and utter normality. The ambassador mentally rewound the day, reaching for tranquility of mind, slowly tracking through every event fascinating or mundane. A shadow persisted, coloring her judgment with cloud of melancholy, causing Frisk to ponder her state of mind.
'I have not lost anything today, nor have I neglected my responsibilities; everything is tidy and ready for a new day.' She lazily unlocked her phone, and checked the calendar looking over the day's events; no item was left unticked, though the last item stood out in a bold font next to its brothers. Her day was well and truly done, yet the feeling of dread persisted; draping her in a cold wet blanket of doubt. Frisk frustratedly kicked her book bag, in time with the rhythm of Rain from Central Park Fountain, pouting down at her hands which were currently covered by white gloves. The young woman reached to remove one gauntlet, her only armor in a harsh world. She clutched the mitt tightly in her left hand and gazed down at her right palm. Frisk's hand looked odd, chalky and dry, the girl rubbed her fingertips repeatedly across her palm in an attempt to remove what she saw there, but to no avail. Bringing her hand closer to her face, she blew gently across her palm and watched a cloud of fine dust spirited away by her breath. Suddenly her mind was filled with flashes of bright gold, birdsong, and pain. So much agony that the torment was seemingly endless. Frisk knew in that moment what was required of her; she needed to run, not from any perceived danger, or even the agony that pressed at her soul. No, Ambassador Dreemurr's desideratum to run spawned from the knowledge that she was the one who could cause true suffering. Glancing at the door handle, she saw her only means of salvation in escape; no, not just hers, everyone's. It was vital Frisk open the door, now. In a matter of moments, what she needed to do went from simple compulsion to desperation, defense overriding wisdom. They were currently cruising at a neighborhood safe twenty-five miles per hour, and Frisk was well versed in how to tuck and roll. Her hand itched madly to reach the handle, but the door was locked; she wondered how loud the lock would be if she unlocked it. Frisk kicked her book bag more vehemently, and it received no reaction from either member of her security detail. They hit a bump, she lurched forward, and Frisk undid the lock. The track, Wooden Dock in Light Mist, began and she loosed her seat belt; then gave a brief glance toward the front seat. Papyrus was focused on the traffic and Sans was snoring lightly. Papyrus signaled his right turn, she grasped the latch and as he began to apply the break her door swung open and she jumped. She flung herself from the slowing vehicle, and dropped into a tuck, rolling down the embankment and skidding to a stop in the gore near the guardrail. Her mobile was tossed from her grip and landed hard on the pavement of the shoulder.
"FRISK, FRISK! MY GOD HUMAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING," she could hear Papyrus screaming while she rose from the ground, lept the rail and ran. Her shirt and jacket were torn, she lost the glove she was clutching, her knees were bleeding and she was filthy, but she ran on harder and faster. Frisk's headphones fell to the ground and she began to get a stitch in her side, but it was imperative she get away. She could still hear Papyrus shouting.
'No doubt trying to rouse Sans,' Frisk mused, and she pushed herself to run harder. The glint of metal a few yards ahead helped her to catch sight of her goal and she headed for the large culvert drain pipe. The young ambassador heard the sounds of sirens in the distance, but continued running uncaring. She tripped on a wire that was connected to the guard rail and Frisk hit the ground hard. She felt and heard her stocking rip the moment she got up and perceived blood in her mouth.
'Nearly there,' she thought and half ran half crawled toward the culvert's opening. Frisk felt the change in air pressure, tasted the static electricity and smelt the scent of petrichor that signaled Sans' teleport, but he was seconds too late she was inside the pipe and she kept moving.
"...kiddo, what the actual FUCK are you thinking," Sans shouted after her.
"...you are going to KILL papyrus with this behavior. DAMMIT!" Sans was hurt, had they not just put to rights everything he had set wrong with his foolish words and actions. The confusion he felt was like a knife to the heart.
Frisk headed deeper into the the drain knowing full well that if Sans wanted to catch her he would have to either crawl in, or catch her when she came out. The interior of the pipe was an unknown, he might suffer a grave injury if he attempted to teleport inside. Dirty, bloody and sweaty Frisk continued forward determined to get as far as possible alone; she knew that she could not stop moving if she did there would be consequences. Moving quickly, hands reaching for the sides of the tunnel the girl half crawled half scooted herself forward. She could hear the sounds of Sans swearing and some voices she did not know; police or paramedics she assumed and she could hear Papyrus somewhere far away. Papyrus sounded like he was crying, Frisk swallowed hard and paused gasping for breath, listening.
"MY LADY PLEASE COME BACK, I AM SURE WE CAN RESOLVE WHATEVER CAUSED SUCH UPSET."
"...can you… where… how far," Sans voice dropped and rose a few octaves and she could not catch all that was being said.
"Call… Ambassador…" a strange male voice rang around her, "danger… jumped… vehicle… ambulance… stan..." The sound was being scattered by the reverb in the pipe, the young girl headed even further away from all the commotion; tumult caused by her actions.
"LOOK… you know we are ...rking for the grea... good."
"We jus... need to… okay," the voices dropped away again then Frisk heard, "or… contact parents.
"YOU ...perfectly WELL... her PARENTS are… we... LEGAL GUARDIANS," Sans speech dropped in and out as it echoed in the culvert. "...stressed... teenager you know how it is. ...just keep the press away, I can't deal with that shit on top of this," Sans voice grew louder and more terse. He let out a heavy sigh and the sound of hysterical sobbing accompanied his last loud statement.
"Ambassador Dreemurr, this culvert ends three miles east of here; do you REALLY want to crawl that far?" Sans called out to her, the fulminating pleading and quiet anger in his voice were overwhelming. Breathing quietly, Frisk Dreemurr stopped a moment and considered her options.
'One: go back now, face Sans wrath and Papyrus' mothering.
Two: continue forward, for the greater good.
Three: do nothing, knowing full well eventually Sans will follow me in here; similar result as one, dire consequences regarding two.
Four: attempt a… NO, NO, NO! NEVER AGAIN.
Five: look for another way out; there is no other way out,' she began to look around, there was nothing to be seen in the waning light, so she continued onward.
"Ambassador Dreemurr, are you in need of medical attention," a strange piercing voice, female this time, asked.
"...are you fucking kidding me right now? SHE isn't gonna answer you, SHE ain't even answerin' me right now! ...shit, fuck… papyrus call her mother. tell QUEEN TORIEL to text her," Sans baritone was louder now, his screaming echoing all around her. Frisk half crawled further away from the noise.
"I CANNOT, BROTHER. HER PHONE IS HERE IN MY HAND AND I BELIEVE THE DIGITIZER HAS BEEN IRREPARABLY DAMAGED, AS THE DEVICE IS LEAKING," Papyrus sobbed.
"F-Uhhh-CK, call her any-damn-way let her know before the shit hits the fan. 'pyrus s'ok, okay? ...i didn't mean ta yell, this isn't your fault, "
"BUT, I AM IN CHARGE. THIS REFLECTS POORLY ON MY ABILITY."
"NO. IT. DOESN'T. ...look, i'm gonna get in there after her. i'll fit, you won't, and there's no point in risking a human. she's gonna be alright so help me god, i'll see her safe." Frisk's breath hitched and she crawled deeper into the dark unknown, hugging the wall of the culvert.
"BE CAREFUL BROTHER, FOR I BELIEVE THE HUMAN IS LEAKING AS WELL. WHY, WHY DID SHE DO THIS, HAVE I FAILED IN SOME WAY?" Sans let out an exasperated huff.
"...papyrus don'tcha dare think such a thing. right now her ladyship is just being a stubborn little… grrrr, ugh!" There was a loud bang, she startled and started crawling faster.
"…i NEED you all to get back! ...papyrus get them back, you know how she gets. ...we can't have this many..." Frisk could not hear him again, then sounds of scraping and grunting coming distantly behind her ladyship, along with the sound of several colorful metaphors. Frisk froze in the darkness unwilling to give away her position, at that moment she wished the whole world would fade into the darkness forever.
Sans for his part was pissed, and he was currently silently damning himself to all the levels of hell for falling asleep. Frisk had been fine when they had left the Embassy, happy even, he did not know what had caused this outburst. His chalking it up to her being a teenager was bullshit; a lie for the police. This scenario was something out of Sans most caliginous nightmares. He hoped briefly he was still asleep, but he was an observant creature.
"...i know damn well i'm awake," he yelled, with slight hitch in his voice.
"...frisk i swear i'll use BLUE on you if i have to, and if you are moving it IS going to hurt," Sans sighed heavily; his voice instantly filled with regret, though pique threaded his tone.
"...kiddo you know i don't want to do that, EVER, just... talk to me… PLEASE. what brought this on, huh?" He made his way further into the deep shadow inside the pipe, and his jacket caught on something sticking out of the wall. The fabric gave with a loud rip which echoed in the cramped space.
"...wow this must be one of those new paper jackets," Sans lamented darkly, "because it's... tearable. eventually you'll have to laugh kiddo, 'cus i've got a million of 'em. i mean it's not quantum physics, but eh, it's a living." Sans debated using his magic for light, but he was afraid; with his temper running so hot he might do something he would regret later. He stopped his forward momentum, and closed his eyes to listen for any movement in the twilight inside the culvert. Agent Bones could not hear his lady at all, neither breath, nor movement.
"SANS, I SPOKE WITH HER MAJESTY." Papyrus could not see his brother any longer, but he heard him growl and shift his weight in the cimmerian shade.
"...alright, what did toriel have ta say about our princess' current behavior?"
"UMM… S-SHE, SHE… OFFERED TO MAKE A PIE," Papyrus stated hesitantly. Sans' chuckle was ripe with sarcasm, and he shifted so he could see his elder brother in the halo of light coming from the entrance.
"...of all the… oh lovely, ask her to put the kettle on as well."
"YOUR HIGHNESS, WE ARE IN DESPERATE NEED OF YOUR FINE PIE AND MY BROTHER WISELY SUGGESTS… THAT YOU PUT THE KETTLE ON."
Papyrus continued on the phone, but Sans tuned him out to focus on the task at hand; retrieve their Ambassador. Scraping fingertips angrily from frontal to parietal he then slammed his fist against the wall. Frisk jumped at the reverberating echo, and took advantage of the cacophony of sound. She rose into a crouch and reached for the ceiling. In order to reach it she was able to stand at nearly her full height; being able to stand in the space she began to sprint again heading for the exit that was still nearly two miles ahead; hoping she could make it before her protector caught up with her. Sans peered into the depths of the duct, he thought he heard movement ahead, but he could not be sure. He then cursed himself a thrice damned fool for making such noise and limiting his own senses. At this point unknown to either of them, they were roughly a half a mile apart. The agent shifted positions in an attempt to stand, but it was fruitless; for once he was too tall.
"...of all the," Sans strung together curses that would make a sailor jealous as his head hit the top of the culvert. He was running out of patience and time, he strained to listen again, but it was futile; he heard nothing. Sans had no idea how far away she was, the kid was fast, forcing him to limit his options. He wanted to risk a teleport but his torn jacket made him hesitate. True teleportation was not like the comic books; he either needed a clear line of sight, knowledge of the area and its surroundings down to the micrometer, or a mapped route. Anger and frustration roiled within Sans, his magic wanted out, his duty to protect Frisk warring with his longing to just hold her again.
"...frisk, LAST WARNING," Sans tone was baleful as his left eye lit cyan laced with gold.
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