"OH, GOD DAMNIT! CURSES!"
Sans jerked upright, yanked back into consciousness by the sound of Frisk's exclamation. He looked over to see them frantically shaking a laptop upside down, some kind of thick, colored liquid dripping off the keyboard.
"The fuck happened?" he asked groggily.
Frisk gave a small startled jump, noticing that he was awake. They looked at him and grimaced. "Ah, dangit, sorry. I was trying not to wake you." They gestured at the wobbly table next to them, where several shopping bags and to-go boxes sat. A container of bright orange soup was knocked over, its contents escaping over the edge of the table, decorating the dingy old carpet with splotches of color.
"I got food from a Thai place down the street," Frisk said, carrying the laptop into the bathroom. She returned a moment later, wiping soup off of the keyboard with a hand-towel. "Help yourself to whatever. I didn't know what you'd like, but they had lots of vegan options so I bought way too much."
Frisk paused to look at the hand-towel, now mostly colored orange. "Ah, crap. That's gonna stain, isn't it."
Sans rubbed the sleep from his sockets, wondering how long he'd been out. Looking at the darkened window only told him it was at least an hour after sunset. There was an old digital clock next to the bed, but the blinking numbers were nowhere close to accurate.
Sans groaned as he forced himself to get up off the bed. He shuffled over to the table, carefully avoiding stepping in puddles of soup. He sat down opposite Frisk and looked over the food.
"Where'd you get the computer?" he asked.
Frisk briefly looked up from her cleaning. "Oh, there's a tech place a couple blocks away. I got a buncha stuff, including this cheapo laptop, then I immediately spilled friggin' soup all over it."
Sans snorted. "I'm guessing you didn't spring for a warranty covering food-related damages, huh?"
"Heh. No, surprisingly they didn't offer that." Frisk brightened. "Oh! I have a present for you, by the way."
They reached into one of the shopping bags, pulling out two smartphones still in the box. They slid one across the table towards Sans.
"It's a little old, but actually not a bad model," they explained. "I thought I'd have to go cheaper, but they were having a two-for-one deal, so that worked out great. They don't have SIM cards yet but we can use 'em on WiFi."
Sans blinked in surprise, setting down the container of noodles he was about to dump into his mouth. "You got me a phone?"
Frisk smiled, honey-colored eyes lighting up with a genuine happiness that… did things to his soul.
"Yeah! I mean, it's not fair for me to get one and you not." Suddenly, her mood changed. She narrowed her eyes at him and said in an irritable tone, "On the other hand, it's your fault I even had to buy a new phone at all. Maybe I should just keep this one, too."
Frisk reached for the box, but Sans quickly snatched it away with a small burst of magic. Red energy briefly enveloped the box, drawing it into his hand like a yo-yo.
Frisk stared in amazement. "Dude, you can float things? That's incredible!"
Sans shrugged. "It's not hard, just some simple energy manipulation. Any monster could do it, but almost all of 'em are too stupid."
Frisk scoffed. "You say that, but I can do absolutely zero magic, so it's all impressive as heck to me. I saw a video of one monster who could summon spears out of thin air and they threw a bunch of apples and she hit every single one. Not to mention what healing magic has done to healthcare. Wow, is that useful. Like, dude, imagine never having to wear bandaids for days cause of stupid little paper cuts. It's so friggin' annoying."
"Oh yeah, I find that super relatable," Sans said, using his bony fingers to shovel noodles into his mouth.
Frisk gave him a thoughtful frown. "Okay, I have several questions about your body."
Sans paused. 'Come again?"
Frisk pointed at his mouth. "That right there, that's what I'm talking about. You've got a bunch of food in your mouth, but your voice sounds exactly the same, like it's not being physically affected. But that scientific mystery pales in comparison to the question of where the heck the food even goes." They gestured at his spine and ribcage. "I mean, it's clearly not going into your body or falling on the floor. You're not even chewing; it's just, like, getting sucked into the void."
Sans grabbed a second, unspilled container of soup, pouring it directly into his open mouth. "Incredible how you're the very first human to ever ask me that," he said, voice perfectly clear.
"Really?" Frisk asked, surprised.
"No, dipshit, it's literally the first thing every human asks." Sans poured the last of the soup, wiping his face off on his sweater sleeve. "Well, actually, it's the second thing they ask. The first thing is usually… uh…" his sentence stalled out as he suddenly grew conscience of Frisk leaning towards him, listening with rapt interest.
"What?" she asked.
Sans felt his cheekbones inexplicably start to heat up. He quickly looked away, busying himself with opening another container of food. "Uh… well they usually ask if I've got a dick."
"Oh, geez," Frisk said, sounding disgusted. He was about to ask what the hell she meant by that, when she continued, "That's such an invasion of privacy and personal space. People can be so gross. I'm sorry you've had to deal with that."
Sans was silent for a moment before he gave a small grunt of agreement, and started shoveling rice into his mouth.
Something seemed to occur to Frisk, and she sounded suddenly disappointed. "Aw,man. My favorite 'walks into a bar' joke doesn't even work, now."
Sans frowned. "Your favorite what?"
She smirked. "You haven't heard any of those? Like, 'A snake walks into a bar and the bartender says 'snakes can walk?!' or 'A woman walks into a bar and she says ouch!' They're almost always stupid. What makes them funny is the consistent format that always starts by someone walking into a bar. Then something unexpected diverts the listeners' expectations."
Sans gave Frisk an impressed look. "That is single-handedly the most boring way I've ever heard someone explain comedy."
Frisk rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I once heard — or read? Yeah, I think I read it — that 'Humor is like a frog; once you dissect it, the only people still interested are the scientists.'"
"Again, you amaze me," Sans said, moving on to a second container of rice.
Frisk continued, "But, yeah, there are actually some 'bar' jokes that are pretty funny. Like, the skeleton one I like that doesn't work anymore is 'A skeleton walks into a bar. He orders a beer, a mop, and a bucket.'"
When Sans didn't laugh, Frisk helpfully explained, "You see, it's funny because human skeletons — like, from dead humans, made up of non-magical bones — if they drank beer, it would get all over the floor l. Then they'd have to clean it up... hence the mop and bucket... and..."
Frisk sighed. "Nevermind." She put the now mostly dry laptop on the table and grabbed a container of noodles from the rapidly shrinking selection of food. She was about to take a bite of noodles when she paused, the chopsticks halfway to her mouth. "Oh! I thought of one you'd like! You'll like this one because it involves a human dying."
That caught Sans off guard and he gave a surprised bark of laughter. "Oh, yeah? Let's hear it."
Frisk set the box of noodles down and gestured with her hands. "Okay, so, two chemists go into a bar. The first one says 'I think I'll have HO.' The second one says 'I think I'll have HO too' and she died."
Sans snorted. He had to admit, that one was pretty good. "You ever hear the one about why they put fences around cemeteries?" he asked.
Frisk thought for a moment "Because... the fence-builders' union got a lucrative non-compete contract?"
Sans shook his head. "I ask again, why are you like this?"
She smirked. "Look, don't be bitter just cause they unionized. The fence-building market is savage."
Author's note: Silly Frisk, it's because people are dying to get in! HAHAHAHA… I'll see myself out, now.
After they ate, Frisk sat at the desk with her laptop while Sans lay on the bed searching the web with his new phone. He wanted to find the public records of monster owner transfers. There were ways to get around regulations and change ownership without leaving a paper trail, but it was still the best chance he had for finding his brother. To the surprise of no one, the motel WiFi was annoyingly slow and frequently dropped out entirely. Even when he finally found the right government website, it was frustratingly difficult to navigate. There was no way to search for a specific monster; he had to scroll through page after slowly-loading page, restarting from the top every time the WiFi dropped and the site reloaded.
Sans was just about ready to chuck the damn phone through the window when Frisk let out a triumphant whoop. "Yes! Got it!"
She picked up the laptop, carrying it over to sit next to Sans on the bed. Reflectively, he flinched from the contact; it took a moment to overpower the urge to shove the human away. Frisk didn't seem to notice, thankfully. She pointed excitedly at something on the screen.
"I think I found a way to disable the collar."
Sans blinked in surprise. "That's what you've been doing?"
"Yeah!" Frisk shouted, then grimaced as she looked at the walls to the adjoining motel rooms. She continued in a quieter voice, "I'm not sure if it's legit, but they claim it worked on their monster."
Sans looked at the screen. It showed a lengthy text post on some anonymous forum he'd never seen before. "Alright, lemme see that," he said, gesturing for the laptop. Frisk handed it to him, then got up. "Hang on, I'll be back in a minute."
Frisk hopped off the bed. Sans watched her as she walked into the bathroom. He shook himself, clearing his head. For the hundredth time, he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. With effort, he pushed the image of Frisk's backside out of his mind and read the forum post.
Hmm…
"Yeah, if I try this, I'm gonna be insta-dead," he said, loud enough for Frisk to hear him in the other room. "Don't know who posted it, but they're either dangerously incompetent or have it out for monsters. How did you even find this?" Without waiting for an answer, Sans opened up the browser menu and looked back at the search history.
Oh, for fucksake.
"You Googled 'How to jailbreak a monster control collar?'" he asked, incredulous.
Frisk's muffled voice came through the bathroom door. "Hey! Are you looking at my search history?!"
Sans continued, reading aloud, "'How do I break a monster collar,' 'Monster collar hacks,' 'monster collar hacks legit,' 'where to find a guide to disable a control collar,' 'monster slave underground railroad' — you're aware that your government scans the web for shit like this, right?"
It was another minute before Sans heard the sound of a toilet flushing and water running in the sink. Frisk re-appeared and rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, I know. I've watched Snowden. You can relax, I used a VPN." She walked back over and sat on the bed next to him again. Sans briefly considered telling her to get a chair, then decided magnanimously to tolerate her presence.
"Did you download anything?" Sans asked, skeptically.
"Uh… Yeah?" she said. "But just some pdf's."
Sans quickly scanned through the download folder. The files were mostly control collar user manuals, but there were a couple of comprehensive schematics that might actually prove useful.
"You're sure that forum post is bunk?" Frisk asked.
"Let's just say I'm uniquely qualified when it comes to control collars," Sans replied.
Frisk sighed. "Well, there goes plan B."
Sans looked at her and raised a browbone. "The hell was plan A?"
Frisk rubbed the side of her neck, sheepishly. "Well, I'll admit, my initial plan when I was picking you up from impound was to offer to continue being your owner on paper while trying in practice to give you as much freedom as I could. Like, no commands, self-autonomy, asking what you want, you know?"
"Sounds like paradise."
Frisk looked angry for a moment, then looked down. "Yeah. I'm pretty out-of-touch with the realities of your situation, I know. It says a lot that my initial reaction was to think you should be grateful to have 'good owner.'"
"That's pretty fucked up, yeah."
She frowned. "Hey, that's why I said 'initial reaction.' I noticed myself thinking that, and challenged it. I try to be self-aware and fix assumptions and heuristics and fallacies and stuff like that."
"Wow, that's very big of you. How many years of therapy did that take?"
Frisk grinned, amused. "So many, dude. You have no idea." She looked at him thoughtfully. "You know, I bet it would do you a lot of good."
Sans scoffed. "What, therapy? Yeah, no. Maybe that shit works for people who like to hear themselves talk, and have the money to pay somebody to listen, but I'll keep my own problems to myself."
Frisk gave him a flat look. "Sans, I watched you have a bonafide meltdown in the car not five hours ago. You're gonna tell me there isn't any trauma you desperately need to unpack?"
Sans waved his hands and spoke in a mocking tone. "Oh, look at me, I'm Frisk the human, and I take care of my mental health like a real douche-canoe."
The corner of Frisk's lips quirked upwards in a reluctant grin. Sans tried to ignore how that made him feel.
"I don't think I've heard that one before."
"What, 'douche-canoe?'"
"Yeah." She wrinkled her nose, cutely. "I mean, the actual meaning is pretty gross, but it's a funny sounding insult."
"Really?" he asked. "What does it mean?"
She waved a hand and shook her head. "You don't wanna know."
To his annoyance, Sans suddenly felt an intense need to know. "That reverse psychology bullshit ain't gonna work on me," he lied.
"What 'reverse-psychology?' I'm not trying to get you to say it more."
"Fine, l'll stick to the ones monsters use when we talk about humans." Sans grinned. "There are so many good ones. 'Klutzy Fleshbags,' 'Meatwads,' 'Wet Sacks of Organs…'"
Frisk gave him a flat look. "Haha, very funny. By that naming pattern, I should call you something stupid, like, 'Mr. Ribcage,' or 'Skull Man,' or 'Bone Boy,' or 'Señor Bones,' or 'Lord Bone-ington of Bonerville,' or…"
Frisk trailed off as she watched Sans unsuccessfully trying to stifle his laughter. "Please," he wheezed, "Please start an official legal request to change my name to 'Lord Bonington, Lord of Boner—'" He started laughing too hard to keep speaking.
An annoyed knock came from the wall adjoining the next room, followed by a muffled voice. "Hey, keep it down! It's late!"
"How dare you address me suchly, peasant!" Sans shouted back between bouts of laughter. "I am the regal lord of Bonerville!"
"Oh, shut up," Frisk shushed him. The collar dinged.
chime: Command accepted*
chime* Resistance detected. Applying mild corrective shock.
"Cancel, cancel!" Frisk shouted as Sans silently twitched in pain. He barely managed to catch the computer with a shaky arm before it fell off his lap.
chime: Command canceled*
Frisk dropped her face into her hands and groaned. "God dangit. Look, I'm sorry I keep doing that by accident, but do you have to fight it every time? You know I'm just gonna undo it."
Sans considered it as he rubbed a hand over his neck, dissipating the lingering sting. He could lie, and say he was resisting it on principle. But honestly, it was mostly because it made her feel bad. He looked at the woman sitting next to him. Was that… really what he wanted?
"Fine," he sighed. "But you might not have the chance for long." Sans gestured at the computer. "While you were taking your sweet time doing gross human bathroom stuff, I've been looking at those schematics you found." He grinned. "I have an idea, but you're not gonna like it."
So, it turned out that Sans's idea was to speedrun the complete dissolution of Frisk's finances. Okay, that was a bit hyperbolic — he needed some of the mechanical components inside her brand new laptop to build a device he claimed would be able to deactivate the collar.
Sans wasn't very familiar with mobile operating systems and begrudgingly asked her to help transfer them to his phone. As soon as he had the schematics on the smaller screen for reference, he started carefully disassembling the laptop. With the use of red magic, Sans made short work of the screws and nuts holding the relatively cheap computer together.
"Hmm," he hummed as he surveyed the explosion of electronic components. "Got almost everything we need." He looked around the hotel room for a minute. With a quick burst of red magic, he ripped the microwave from where it was mounted to the wall, sending layers of paint and stucco flying.
"Hey!" Frisk shouted.
"Shh!" Sans whispered, putting a boney finger to his mouth before grabbing the microwave from where it now floated in front of him. "Don't want to get in trouble."
"C'mon, man," she whined in a quieter voice. "That's gonna come out of the deposit! You couldn't have just unscrewed it or something?"
The skeleton didn't look up from his work as he rapidly disassembled the motel's property. "Sounds like more of a 'you' problem."
Frisk sighed. "How long do you think this is gonna take?"
Sans snorted. "Why, you impatient to be unlinked from this thing? And here I thought it was me who had the worse end of the deal."
She rolled her eyes. "I just wanna know if I have time to sleep. You got to take a nap, but I haven't."
"Eh, this'll maybe take me two, three hours to build, then at least an hour to run some tests."
"Alright. You don't need my help with any of it, right?"
Sans stopped working long enough to spare her a flat look. "Do you have a degree in magitechnical engineering I don't know about?" he asked.
"Uh…no?"
He turned back to work. "Then aside from the riveting pleasure of your company, I don't know how useful you're gonna be here."
"Okay, geez, I was just asking," she muttered, walking away to go get ready for bed.
Her sleep was surprisingly undisturbed, considering everything Frisk had been through in the last few hours. Perhaps her brain was simply too exhausted to manifest troubling dreams.
When she woke, it was to the sound of Sans's rough voice saying her name. "Hey Frisk, get your ass up. It's almost ready."
Reluctantly, she pushed herself upright, rubbing sleep from her eyes. To her left, the cool light of morning shone softly through cheap curtains. Guess it took Sans longer than he had thought. He was still sitting hunched over the desk in almost the exact position he'd been in when she went to sleep, fussing with something she couldn't see.
It took her a groggy moment to process exactly what he had said. "Does it work?" she asked, yawning as she walked over to see what he was doing.
"We're about to find out," said the skeleton.
"That's it?" Frisk gestured at the device in Sans's hand. The palm-sized gizmo was a mess of electronic components. Wires of various colors and sizes enwrapped what looked like a small lithium-ion battery sandwiched between two metal plates, the wires woven around each other in a complex but seemingly random pattern. A single keyboard button sat in the middle of the device — for some reason, Sans had picked the letter P.
"It looks like a friggin' IED," Frisk said. If anyone ever saw this, they were definitely going on a terrorist watchlist.
"A what?" Sans asked, looking up from his work for the first time. His gaze stuttered for a moment, pausing as he took in the loose tank top and shorts she had changed into to sleep. Was he… checking her out?
"N-nevermind," she said, suddenly feeling more than a little self-conscious. She folded her arms and took a step back. "You got all the parts you needed from the laptop and microwave?"
Sans's attention snapped back to the device in his hands. "Well…uh," he said, a little sheepishly. "The battery wasn't right. I had to take this one outta your phone."
Sure enough, when Frisk looked closer at the pile of dissected components stacked in a messy pile in one corner of the table, she could make out a few mangled pieces of her brand new phone's corpse.
She groaned and dragged a palm down the side of her face. "C'mon, seriously?"
Sans shrugged. "Needed a smaller battery."
"You know, I don't actually have infinite money. Sooner or later, you're gonna need to stop destroying my phones."
Sans chuckled. "Okay, first off, the one you threw in the lake is completely on you. I can't help if you fall for stupid shit."
Before Frisk could tell Sans exactly what she thought of his "stupid shit," he continued.
"Secondly, it doesn't matter. With the collar off, I'll be able to steal as much money as we could ever need."
"...We?" she asked, choosing to consider the less scrupulous part of his statement later. "You wanna stick together?"
"Well…yeah," Sans answered. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "At least for a bit. I got something I need to do, and it'll go much easier with a human's help. And you need me around, cause those mutherfuckers from yesterday are not gonna give up easy."
He made a good point. Though Frisk was apprehensive about whatever scheme Sans wanted her help with, knowing he'd be around to protect her from the bad guys was a palpable relief.
"What you need my help with… is anyone going to get hurt?" she asked hesitantly.
Sans gave her a grin tinged with malice. "If it goes to plan? No. If shit hits the fan? Maybe. But I don't think you're gonna be particularly heartbroken over these chumps. I need you to help me infiltrate a monster auction."
"Oh, god," she muttered, feeling a bit queasy.
Sans waved dismissively. "Don't worry, I'll be nearby the whole time"
"That's kind of what I'm worried about, Sans. I don't want any killing."
"Eh, it probably won't come to that. Besides," he added cheerily, "that's a problem for later. Right now, we gotta see if this works without killing me."
His cavalier attitude didn't exactly fill Frisk with confidence. "Uh… weren't you gonna test it first?" she asked.
"Yeah, I did, but there's only so much I can do without another collar to experiment on." He held the device up to one eyesocket, re-examining the intricate tangle of wires. "I give it 60-40 odds."
"Wait, like, odds that it just doesn't work, or odds that it kills you?"
"Yes." Sans pressed the device against his collar, fingerbone hovering over the button. "Okay, ready?"
"No!" Frisk exclaimed. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to do!"
"Eh, mostly just stand there and look pretty." He winked at her. "And if I don't make it, read the note on my phone."
Before Frisk could ask him what that meant, Sans scrunched his eye sockets shut and pressed the button.
Note on Sans's phone:
Heya, Frisk. If you're reading this, it means I'm probly dead. Or yoi took my phome. Either way, ur deadmeat. I probly shoulda started this notd saying how nice and kind you are instead of threatining you, cause I'm gonnma ask you for a favor. If i'm dead, i need you to go get my brother. He's gonna be at the auction i put the info down below. Buy him, steal him, whatever. The shit u said about beinb a "good owner" was a fuckin wild thing to say to ur slave monster, but the truth is it's true, and i can't think of a better way to get Pap safe. Okay i can actually think of a lot of better ways but this js the only one that might work if im dead. I have complete confidence in u but if you fail im gonna haunt ur ass. Tell Pap im sorry.
