I'm Always Okay

Chapter 5: I'm Always Okay

"Undyne. Buddy. Do the smart thing. Don't ."

Undyne stood in utter shock at the proceeds of events, staring down at the sharpened femur leveled at her throat. The words that fell from Papyrus's mouth were cold, clipped, deadly. She glanced back and forth between the skeleton brothers and the human, eventually staring back at Papyrus, swallowing slightly and her throat brushed against the tip of the sharpened bone weapon, but she didn't drop her spear. She even held the thermos of soup in her other hand as if it were a weapon. Sans could feel the intense magical energy flooding through the room, through his bones and into his head. The pressure was steadily increasing as he shifted along the wall, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

"Papyrus," Undyne said slowly, dangerously. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"That's… no way to greet a new pal, Undyne," Papyrus ever so slowly lowered his bone weapon, looking at her slightly sadly, his conjured weapon fizzling out of existence. "Please. I am offering you mercy here, Undyne. Please, please accept it."

He stood before her and ever so gradually opened his arms, spreading them wide and looking at her pleadingly.

"Come on, Undyne," Papyrus said slowly. "It doesn't have to be like this."

Okay, Sans. This is it. Paps has finally lost his mind because of the anomaly. This is going to go shit shaped any moment, everything is gonna go to hell, something is going to break and there's going to be dust on my hands and then blood because oh god please don't I can't live without him oh god think of something you idiot think of something… !

"Papyrus," Undyne growled in a guttural tone. "You-you threatened -"

"I stopped you from doing something that you would have very much regretted doing," Papyrus said simply, gently lowering his arms and holding out his hands, almost like he was trying to calm a spooked animal, but the dangerous gleam in his eye sockets didn't fade. "Now, if it's not too much trouble, I really would like it if we could all put our weapons away…" he brushed the tip of the spear away from Frisk's face, who was sitting absolutely stock still with wide eyes and pale face. "And sit down and talk about this like good friends."

"Have you lost your goddamned mind ?" Undyne bellowed. Sans made to move toward her but was frozen by a single glance from Papyrus stilled him almost instantly. "Papyrus, do you even realize what that thing is?"

"That 'thing', as you so delicately put it," he replied calmly. "Is my friend. And you are also my friend. That does make the whole 'attempted murder' stuff a little bit awkward though-"

Oh my god Paps are you serious you cannot talk your way out of this one do something already… !

Sans inched closer and closer to Frisk behind them, summoned magic pounding and thrashing in his aching head. He needed to release it, needed to get it out of his system before something awful happened, he wasn't good at holding it in for this long and it was pushing him over his limit. He contemplated silently just putting the anomaly down there and then. It would be so much simpler. But he didn't want to consider it. If things went pear shaped, he would undoubtedly hold Papyrus's life as greater value over theirs.

Bone right through the cranium. Probably wouldn't even feel it. Nice and quick.

They probably wouldn't even feel it. Maybe. It wasn't like he hadn't killed them before. What was one more time? He felt so vile, so foul for thinking it. He couldn't risk Papyrus's life over the anomaly-

Over Frisk.

Their name is Frisk.

The child who trusted me.

The child who is depending on me to live.

God help me what in the actual fuck am I doing with my life.

"Papyrus," Undyne stared back and forth between the brothers, clearly exasperated. "Come on. This thing-"

"Enough," Sans's hand found its way to Frisk's shoulder, and they tensed up silently at his grip. They looked as if they weren't certain of who to be more terrified of. That was fine with him. If things went wrong, he could always… try again.

Dirty promise breaker.

Come on. Please. Don't do this. Think of something. You have to figure something out. Use your damned head for once. It would be so easy to just snap their filthy fucking neck no no no no come on get it together, get it together… !

"… Look," Sans felt his magic ebb and slip away, leaving him with a pounding migraine. "Stop callin' the kid a thing . It's not cool. A'ight?"

"So this is what you were doing while you were 'sick'?" Undyne slowly pulled the spear a couple of inches away from Frisk, glowering at Papyrus.

"I wasn't sick," Papyrus stared blankly at her.

"No, Paps," Sans said with a quiet sigh. "I told her you were sick."

"… But I'm not sick," he blinked.

"I know, Paps. I lied."

"Sans!" Papyrus turned to him, placing both his hands on his hips.

Frisk suddenly became much more interested in something on him, but Sans didn't focus on it. "It's not good to lie to your friends, brother. Deceit only results in more deceit."

"I know, Paps…" Sans rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. "I was… kinda worried about somethin' else at the time."

Undyne coughed loudly, glowering at them, clearly irritated at being momentarily forgotten. Sans shifted awkwardly, but didn't want to try reaching for magic again. He was so tired.

"Papyrus," Undyne said firmly, giving him a level glare. "Come on. You can't be seriously considering keeping that thing."

Papyrus's fists clenched so tightly that Sans heard them crack .

"… Right," Papyrus said calmly, but Sans could see that his hands (ah, his gloves were off, so that was what Frisk was looking at) were shaking. "Undyne. Buddy. Pal . What did I just say about calling them a thing ."

"Y-yeah, well…" Undyne actually backed away a step from the downright withering glare that the skeleton was giving her, her weapon fizzling out with a small static burst. "I mean, just… comecome on! Papyrus! This is literally treason!"

"Helping someone is treason now?" Papyrus scoffed, crossing his arms tightly. "Then consider me guilty."

"Paps," Undyne pinched the bridge of her nose, looking to Sans futilely for help. "Listen. You have, uh, o-officially claimed your spot on the royal guard. Just let me take it - them - to Asgore." Papyrus suddenly looked very, very uncomfortable, glancing between her and the human.

"… What?" he blinked again. "I-I don't…"

"Just hand 'em over," Undyne said simply, holding out a hand toward Frisk, a pained expression on her face.

Sans's grip on Frisk's shoulder tightened intensely, the rage slowly broiling over inside of him.

She was using his own goals, his own lifelong dream against him. It wasn't just cold, it was manipulative, it was cruel, it was downright sick . Sans had to fight to keep his fury down, and it dimly occurred to him that he was probably beginning to hurt Frisk with how tightly he was grasping their shoulder. But she had hurt Papyrus. She had hurt him, Undyne who had promised to protect him and she was hurting him and the evil bitch deserved to die and he could feel the magic swarming through his head-

"No, Undyne."

"S-sorry?"

"I am too, Undyne," Papyrus said sadly, deflating a bit. Sans cringed at the sound of his brother's voice. He just sounded so worn out. Beaten down. Drained. Defeated. "But I can't allow you to take my friend, Undyne. I'm… not really certain why it's so important for you to bring Asgore a corpse, but I really think that things would be better for everyone involved if you at least sat down and tried to be friends."

"Do you want to?"

Sans peeled away from the human, the first time of them speaking in a long while. Their blanket was discarded to the floor and they sat with their legs pulled up to their chest on the chair.

"What?" Undyne balked at them, as if surprised that they could even speak at all from how silent they had been. The silence that followed, however, was almost deafening.

"Do you - do you wanna be friends?" Frisk asked in a quiet tone, looking up at her hopefully. "Do you just want somebody to talk to? B-because I'm real good at listening. I k-know you m-might not like me v-very much, but, u-um… I think we could be friends. I can be good. Just-just please, please don't hurt Papyrus. We could be friends."

Undyne gaped at Frisk with a half stunned, half revolted expression.

"Friends," she repeated in blatant disgust.

"Y-yeah!" Frisk perked up a little. "We could do all sorts of fun friend stuff-!"

"No," Undyne said instantly, straightening up a bit, her face dark. "I will not be friends," she spat as if the word were poison. "With something like you ."

Frisk visibly deflated and tried to curl in on themselves, and for a brief moment Sans felt something very raw and fiery claw its way through his chest, but he quashed it almost as quickly as it rose. Weird.

"That's alright, Undyne," Papyrus clapped his hands together. "I should have expected that you wouldn't be up to the challenge."

"I - you can't - excuse you?" she spluttered, giving him a sharp, one eyed glower. The captain of the royal guard looked back and forth between Sans and his brother, and it was painfully obvious that Papyrus was laying out bait for her, looking at her with hope in his eye sockets that she would take the bait. But they all knew better than that.

"Paps…" Undyne groaned miserably, running a hand down her face and rubbing her eye patch. She then flicked her gaze back to the human one last time before sighing, looking as if she wanted to tell him a great many things and just couldn't put it into words. The pained look on her face grew, and she sighed again before looking away. "I'll… I'll give you a week."

She then slammed the thermos of soup on the table with a loud bang! causing them all to jump.

"Get well soon," she said expressionlessly before stalking out into Snowdin, shouting over her shoulder as she went. "And fix this damned door!"

They were all left in silence for a moment before Papyrus let out a pleased noise.

"… I think that went rather well," he said with far too much enthusiasm.

"Oh my god," Sans sank down the wall, not even realizing just how long he had been holding his breath, his whole body feeling weak. "Oh my god, how in the hell did you pull that off, Papyrus…?"

"Classic hostage scenario," Papyrus responded simply, plucking the blanket from the floor and draping it around Frisk's shoulders, who looked up at him thankfully. "Halt the aggressor, maintain a neutral zone and deescalate the situation as calmly as possible."

"… Paps," Sans said slowly, staring at him. "Where in the hell did you learn that?"

"I can read you know," Papyrus answered somewhat huffily, checking over Frisk to ensure that they were indeed uninjured. "A royal guard has to be more than just hired muscle, thank you very much!"

"Which is good, 'cause you got none o' that," Sans quipped, though it was more out of nervous reflex than anything. Papyrus didn't even respond, simply slipping his gloves back on and flexing his phalanges.

That had been close.

Far, far too close. Sans fought hard against the swelling migraine that plagued him from the mass of unused magic, quietly groaning and rubbing his eye sockets. At least it wasn't nearly as bad as the pain from the resets, blinding agony from memories from different timelines all crashing together inside his head. Not just once, but twice now he had very nearly assaulted both his employer and friend, and there was no guarantee that he wouldn't have killed her. It was taking all that he had just to keep it together, and that alone was a Herculean task.

"Um… Pa-Papyrus?" Frisk asked softly, holding their blanket close to their body. He almost didn't hear them, and Frisk held out their comparatively tiny hands toward him, and Papyrus knelt a bit to take their hands in his.

"Yes?" his expression softened a bit. "Are you alright, little one?"

Frisk swallowed and nodded, looking back toward the broken door.

"Um. Am-am I allowed to ask a-a question?"

"I don't see why not," he patted them on the head warmly.

"What happened to your hand?"

Sans could only watch as all of the color and life instantly drained from his brother's face.

"I… had an accident," Papyrus answered quietly. "A very long time ago," he continued in a soft tone, running his thumb over the back of their hand. "I'm sorry that you had to see that, little one."

"Why are you sad?" Frisk blinked at him. Sans couldn't help but cringe. Despite everything, they really did have all of the tact of a curious ten year old.

"I don't… like people seeing the scars," Papyrus admitted lowly. "That's all."

"… It's okay," Frisk gave him a gentle smile. "I don't like anyone seeing mine, either."

Papyrus slowly, carefully lowered himself to their height and drew them into a bony hug. They wrapped their tiny arms around his neck, burying their face into his shoulder and mumbling something.

Sans felt like an intruder in his own home.

Mere moments ago he had been nearly bursting at the seams with magic and had been on the verge of blasting his friend into a steaming crater, and now he felt like he didn't even belong in his own house watching such a private and intimate moment. Sans drew his hood up over his eyes, pretending that he wasn't sulking. His head was pounding furiously and he was fighting off weariness with all his strength, feeling stretched thin and drained. Sans didn't want to have the conflicting emotions that he did. It was just strange seeing Papyrus so gentle, so quiet, so… brotherly.

He wasn't jealous.

And he told himself that again and again, reinforcing the thought every time. It was such a ludicrous notion. Like he would ever be jealous of the anomaly for taking his brother's attention away. It could very easily all just be a ploy, waiting until their defenses were down, waiting for the ax to fall.

Sans let out a quiet sigh through his teeth, standing.

Life was nothing without a gamble, so might as well roll the dice.

"You alright there, buddy?" Sans patted them on the shoulder, causing them to flinch. He found a brief glimmer of satisfaction at that, knowing that at least they were bright enough to still be afraid of the real threat. For some reason, however, this only brought on another surge of guilt, which was getting mysteriously harder and harder to repress.

"I-I'm okay," Frisk mumbled, rubbing their arms and looking up at him. "Um. Are-are you okay, though?"

Sans blinked.

Maybe they hadn't intended for it to be as funny as it seemed, or maybe he really was just starting to lose it, but he laughed regardless. Once again, this kid found themselves staring death in the face and they wanted to know if he was okay. This child had some seriously skewed priorities.

"What?" he stuck his hands in his pockets, grinning. "Of course, kid. I'm always okay. What makes you say that?"

"You-you just, um…" Frisk tucked their hands into their sleeves, looking away uneasily. "You looked… really, really m-mad, and-and I, um…"

"Buddy," he placed a hand on their shoulder, and they shivered but didn't flinch. "You trust me, right? Made a promise, didn't I?"

A promise that you very nearly broke to save your own skin. Heh heh. Skin. Oh my god focus for five seconds.

"Y-yeah," Frisk said with a soft little smile, looking up at him. "I trust you."

Which was fortunate, because when the time came it would make killing them much eas-

Sans blanched hard, forcing a weak chuckle and patting them on the head.

"I think we've all had quite enough excitement for one morning," Papyrus stretched and stood. "Frisk, would you like to come with us today on our, er, patrol for humans?"

"I would like that very much," Frisk beamed at him toothily.

"Then we're off!" Papyrus bounded out of the kitchen, shouting over his shoulder. "By the way, Sans, we really need to fix the door!"

They were left in silence for a while, Sans standing with his hands in his pockets as he stared at the human. He kicked with one slipper at the doorknob, mildly impressed. Undyne really had done a number on it.

"… Seven days."

Sans blinked and glanced over to Frisk, who had their arms crossed tightly and was staring off into the corner.

"Yep," Sans nodded simply after a moment, hands clenching in his pockets.

"I… I only have a week to live," they let out a soft, shuddering breath, eyes watering at the realization.

"Aw, jeez, kid-" Sans started uncomfortably, putting out a hand to them nervously as he stepped close to them. "Don't-don't freak out, okay? You were doin' so good when Undyne was here…"

"I'm sorry," Frisk's shoulders shook lightly as they hid their face behind their sleeves. "I'm s-sorry, I won't cry, I w-won't make noise, I'm s-sorry, please don't be mad… !"

"Shit," Sans collapsed inwardly. "That's-that's not what I meant. Sorry if that came out wrong, kiddo. You're gonna be fine. Nobody is gonna die. Okay? It's… it's gonna be okay," he rubbed their shoulder with his thumb, finding himself desperately hoping that they wouldn't cry. "It's gonna be alright. You… you trust me, right, kiddo?"

Frisk rubbed their eyes and sniffled miserably, gazing up at him.

Curious.

Had their irises always been red?

"Yeah. I… I trust you."