The Path To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions

Chapter 9: The Path To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions

Sans was falling.

He felt the blur of the black void around him as he always did when shortcutting, crushing the life out of him as he failed to escape. He screamed and screamed as he plummeted, suffocating and making no noise and falling forever, crashing through space, through time, through memory-

Of twisting tiled corridors that smelled of disinfectant. Forced tocarry himself a step at a time behind the taller skeleton, lab coat swishing a little behind him. He hated him for this. He hated him so goddamn much. But what else was there to do? It was for the benefit of science. It was for the benefit of all monsterkind. There was no one else that could take his place. Yet. And besides.

Where would he even go? No, he had to wait. Had to bide his time. At least until the new experiment could walk upright like a proper skeleton, then maybe, just maybe-

The sound of Papyrus's feeble cries for mercy as the other childrenhit him, beat him with sticks and rocks, laughing at his pain as his sternum cracked. Sans's scream of rage as he barreled down on them, the shock and fear in their eyes as they met his, flaring blue and promising of brimstone and suffering and agony. The little skeleton cradled in his arms, unable to hear his sobs through his own. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair, no one should be so helpless. Not him, definitely not Papyrus. His brother was so good, he didn't deserve this. Why would they do this to him? Why would anyone do this? Why-

Didn't the damned kid just give up already? Why were they doing this to him? Why would anyone do this? He guessed it didn't really matter as he stared down at the broken human on the floor, flooded with horrible familiarity as they coughed up a few specks of blood, one hand clenched weakly to their broken sternum.

"S-sorry," the human wept. "Please - please, understand Sans. Please. I'm so sorry."

"Sure," he shrugged nonchalantly, pretending that he was entirely unfazed by this point. God, if only that were the case. Tears streamed down their face. They usually did. It was almost funny, he could have sworn that their eyes were red before. Or were they always brown? Maybe he really was going insane from the resets. He wouldn't doubt it. "I'll bet you were real sorry when you butchered Papyrus, too. You dirty brother killer."

He didn't bother listening to their pleas for mercy rising in pitch, their protests, the soft, broken sobbing. He only did his job.

Bones shattered the earth beneath them, piercing the wretched anomaly in a dozen different places, all erupting in different directions. Obviously just killing them wasn't getting the message across. How many more times were they going to make him do this? Did they actually enjoy this? Is that why they wouldn't stop coming back? He didn't even blink this time when the blood splattered across his face. He simply stood there, watching until their tiny body finally stopped twitching. Every death, every reset, he grew more desperate to just make it stop, to make it end. Evidently, he was going to have to be a little more… blunt.

His eternal grin finally began to falter as he stared down at them for what felt like hours. Once again, he was alone. Even if they didn't reset this time, which they would, of course they would, they always did; he had nothing to go back to. There was simply no one left. There was no point. Everything was just so goddamn pointless.

He bit back a futile sob as the universe began to unravel around him once again-

And he didn't fall.

Sans felt weightless, motionless. The darkness swarmed him, swallowed him. Utterly, mercilessly black.

And yet, he could see the bones in his hand as he waved it in front of his face, feel the texture of his ulna as he gave it a little pinch just to be sure. Even so, it all felt so foggy, so distant. Like he was watching it happen to someone else. He could feel his own body, but it was like it wasn't really there at all. The sinking feeling he got that if he stayed here for long could have dire consequences grew. Time was utterly irrelevant, and that alone scared him. There was that familiar little spark in his chest that rang out at nothing, and Sans found himself wandering through the dark. Was it a dream? If so, it was unlike any dream he'd ever had before. It felt too real, too lucid. Searching desperately for something, for someone, even if he didn't know what. He could hear something, he could feel something, but no matter how far he went it was never any closer. He was so tired. So exhausted. All he wanted to do was lie down and let the encroaching dark overcome him, let him rest, but he pressed on, forced to continue by something that he didn't quite understand.

"What - did - I - tell - you?"

Huh. Something new. The voice he heard was cold, clipped, angry. His mind was foggy, his thoughts were sluggish and heavy, but anger he could definitely understand. He pushed toward it immediately, physically, mentally, his curiosity outgrowing his desperation. He could see a couple of figures hunched in the dark, one leaning over the other and shaking the one on the bottom by the shoulders. Both wore differently colored striped shirts, one in green and one in blue, almost like-

No, that was ridiculous. He refused to acknowledge it until he'd gotten a better look. At least until he heard the all too familiar begging, and his marrow ran cold.

They were hurting them.

They were hurting Frisk.

They were hurting his kid.

"Please, p-please, I'm sorry! It won't happen again!"

"You're goddamned right it won't happen again!" the figure atop Frisk shouted. "Because now we're fucking dead! I told you, I warned you to run when we had the chance, and you never, ever - fucking - listen to me!" they screamed, shaking them with every punctuation. "And now because of you, the things he's going to do to us-!"

"Buddy."

The figure atop Frisk froze suddenly, head whipping toward him with flashing anger in their bright red eyes. Only for a moment, though. The anger was swift to drain to that of pure, unadulterated horror.

"You!? You shouldn't be here!" the child that looked like Frisk's voice cracked, putting themselves between him and the human on the ground. Granted, they looked a lot like Frisk, but he could spot several little differences almost immediately. Their eyes were wider. Cherry red. Their lips were peeled back in a horrible snarl as they tried to cover the child on the ground. As if they were the ones protecting Frisk from him. Funny. "You shouldn't be here! When did you-? How - this is wrong ! This is all wrong, leave us alone ! Get out!"

"Can't help but notice you're bullyin' my friend," Sans's voice came out whispery, as if it wasn't really him saying it. He could feel his hands clenching in his jacket pocket in preparation, but most of the sensation was gone aside from a little pressure. "You… must really be lookin' for a bad time."

"GET - OUT !"

Sans felt himself thrown backwards by an unseen force, everything in his sight twisting, whipping and warping into everything and

nothing, kaleidoscoping into hateful swirls of color and light and noise and pain…

Sans jolted in the dark, gasping breathily and clutching his aching chest. He was fine. Everything was fine. He felt hot, far, far too hot, and limp, but it was fine.

Except that it wasn't, because he was right back in bed, as if nothing had ever happened because of course nothing had happened yet it was going to happen all over again and again until the end of time and there was nothing he could do but watch as everyone he loved died and it was so goddamn unfair!

His screams echoed and bounced off the walls as he thrashed madly, profanity hatefully falling from his him as easily as the hysterical tears did, sobs wracking his chest. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair, he didn't want to watch everyone die over and over again it wasn't right they were just a kid why didn't the universe just side with him for once? Sans kicked and thrashed and sobbed, punching futilely at the wall until the pain slowly drew him back, and even then it wasn't enough because he just felt so weak, because of course he was weak that's all he ever was he was too weak to protect anyone, too weak to even take care of himself and even his screams felt weak and it was all going to happen over and over and over and-

Sans wasn't certain when he snapped out of it. Only that at some point or another, he must have. He had to get back up. Had to force himself through the reset. He didn't want Papyrus to walk in on his dust.

He still felt nauseous, and sick, and horribly hungry and feeble, but not quite so uncomfortably hot. Unthinkingly he felt his forehead with the back of his hand to check the fever. Instead, he found a cool, damp cloth. Sans blinked, taking a few deep, steady breaths. Okay.

Okay .

So, this was new.

Sans took a few more deep breaths, his mind feeling fuzzy. He forced himself to sit, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed to stand and promptly stumbling the first few steps to the door, but he would make it. He had to make it. Papyrus would wake him soon. Everything was starting over again. He barely made the effort to scrape his feet into his slippers. He had to hurry. Frisk needed him. They would be out in the snow, freezing to death or dying of illness… Or slaughtering everyone that he knew and loved.

He wasn't sure which terrified him more, which was deeply upsetting for reasons that he didn't want to think about.

He only made it a couple of slow shuffling steps out of his bedroom door before he was halted in place by a pair of strong skeletal arms, literally forcing him still.

"Paps," his voice came out dry and raspy, the desperation clear in his tone. He felt his head loll heavily to the side as he strained to stand."Frisk! Frisk is hurt -!"

"Brother, brother," Papyrus knelt a little before him, speaking softly as one might a frightened animal. Sans glanced up at him, and though he still felt a bit hazy, recognized just how utterly haggard Papyrus looked. There were deep lines under his eye sockets and his shoulders were stooped, but the growing smile on his face was genuine.

"Thank goodness," Papyrus felt Sans's forehead with the back of his hand. Which seemed ridiculous to Sans, considering his brother wore gloves constantly, how could he even feel anything through them? "It's about time."

"Papyrus!" Sans insisted, unable to squirm from his brother's grasp. "You don't understand, it's Frisk… !"

"Everything is okay," he said quietly, but firmly, coercing him into staying still. "You don't have to worry, brother. I've taken care of everything."

"Where are they?" Sans all but shouted, unable to tear himself from his brother's grasp. "They're hurt! Paps, they're hurt, they need help

!"

"Sans!"

Sans flinched instantly at the sound of his brother's barking tone.

"Look at me."

Sans glanced up again uneasily, his soul pounding in his chest.

"I have taken care of everything," Papyrus slowly repeated like a mantra. "You don't have to worry. Okay? Just stay calm. It's going to be alright, brother. Just take it easy. You know what happens when you panic. Take a deep, long breath. Okay? Good. Breathe for me. That's very good. Just one thing at a time. Breathe."

Sans took a few more shuddering breaths, closing his eyes and letting a sigh out through his teeth. It took several painstakingly long minutes before he could even start to slow the soul slamming in his ribcage, let alone the racket in his aching head.

"… Happy?" Sans asked a little snappishly, cracking open his eyes.

"No not really," Papyrus frowned, and Sans cringed instantly. "I feel pretty terrible actually."

"Sorry," Sans rubbed the back of his neck, deeply ashamed. "Didn'tdidn't mean it to come out that way."

"I already forgive you, brother…" he gently placed his hand on his shoulders with a sad little smile. "I'm just glad to see you well again."

Sans sighed and hugged his brother, wrapping his arms around his waist and feeling Papyrus's grip on his shoulders tightening a little. He could feel the tension dripping gradually away. God, he didn't ever want to let go.

"What… happened last night, Paps?" Sans asked eventually, pulling away and looking up at him, searching his face.

"Nothing," he replied instantly.

"Nothing my ass," Sans scowled, and Papyrus harrumphed at the swear, but he paid it no mind.

"You've been a little… out of it," Papyrus shifted from foot to foot,

suddenly looking extremely uncomfortable. "You, erm. Haven't had a fit in quite a while."

Sans felt a sudden hot rush of embarrassment and shame, looking away.

"… Crap," Sans said simply, running a shaking hand over his head. "P-Paps, I…"

"Don't feel too bad about it," Papyrus patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. "I'm just glad your fever finally broke the other night."

"You-you mean last night."

"No, I mean the other night."

"… I've been out for a whole day?" Sans balked at him.

"Two days, actually," Papyrus corrected him.

"Oh god," Sans ran a hand down his face, pushing past his brother as the hive of thoughts swarmed him all at once. "Oh god oh god Paps I think I messed up bad this time, is the kid oka-"

Sans froze at the top of the stairs, and was down the steps before he realized it.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl for several seconds.

He saw the familiar green sweater that felt like he was looking at it just yesterday. And more importantly, the person inside of it was leaning over Frisk, red ponytail dangling in their face and oh god she was coming back to finish the job kicking them while they were down she was going to take their soul and everything would reset the evil bitch was smothering Frisk in their sleep he'd kill her he'd kill her he was going to rip her filthy soul out through her gills-

"Get the FUCK away from my kid!" Sans screamed hatefully, feeling the burn of cyan magic in his eye and throwing out a hand immediately. Undyne's soul flickered blue, her head whipping wildly as she stared with one good eye in shock and surprise at him as she was hurtled sideways by the sudden change in gravity. She slammed against the wall, spread eagle, dropping something with a loud clunk as she shouted something incoherent at him. Or maybe it was just that he couldn't quite understand what she was saying, there was so much rushing in his head, she was hurting them… !

Sans rapidly found himself picked up completely off the ground in a full nelson hold. He kicked uselessly for several moments, desperate to stop Undyne, to keep them away from Frisk long enough to keep them safe, before Papyrus's voice finally made its way in.

"-t to stay calm," he heard him muttering beside his head, calmly, soothingly, his grip on Sans not loosening in the slightest. "Just a dream, Sans. Let her go. Just a bad dream. You've got to stay calm . It's all over now. She's your friend. Remember? Undyne. It's Undyne. She's a friend. We're all friends here. It's okay, Sans. It's okay. You're in Snowdin. It's okay. I promise. I'm right here. Please, Sans. Snap out of it. Please. Please . I'm begging you. Come back to me, Sans."

Sans's breathing caught in his chest as he promptly released the magic on Undyne, feeling as if his own weight were suddenly increasing by the moment as she dropped to the floor. It took him less than a second to recognize the familiar sizzle of magic as his floating bone attacks fizzled out of existence, the partially formed tibulas and fibulas vanishing in an instant. The full horror of what he was doing, of what he'd very nearly almost done rushed in on him at once, and he felt like being sick.

And then, to make matters worse, what he would have been forced to do if he had actually killed Undyne.

Frisk was curled up on the couch, grasping at themselves uselessly with one shaking hand, the other covering their mouth like they were trying to stifle a scream. He met their eyes for only the briefest of moments, but it was enough. The petrified stare, the fear that they looked at him with.

Maybe they knew what had very nearly happened, too. It was pretty likely, considering his last… incident.

Somehow, this only made him feel worse.

Didn't they get it? Didn't they know that he was doing everything for their sake? Didn't they know that he was trying to protect them for once? He meant well. Honestly he did.

The fact that they looked at him in such terror… hurt. Why did it hurt so much?

"… He's 'better' my ass," Undyne rubbed her back with a spiteful look as she shakily stood, glowering at them. It was then that Sans noticed what she had dropped. It wasn't even close to a weapon staining the carpet. It was just an ordinary bowl of soup. A plain, spilled bowl of soup.

She was feeding Frisk a bowl of soup .

"… Don't you mean 'better my bass?'" Sans asked weakly, forcing a small grin.

"Yeah. He's fine," Papyrus deadpanned, finally setting him down softly, but he could hear the relief in his voice. His hand never left his shoulder though, his grip tight enough to keep him in place.

"S-sorry 'bout that, gilfriend," he gave a feeble chuckle, cringing at the heated glower that Undyne shot him. "I… uh. Thought you were… someone else?" he finished with a half shrug.

"Yeah," Undyne said sharply, hissing and rubbing her back with one hand. "Because so many other monsters have red hair, an eye patch, and blue freakin' skin."

"You sure you're okay, Sans?" Papyrus asked quietly.

"Yeah, 'course. Nothing gets under my skin."

"I'm perfectly fine, thanks for asking," Undyne dusted herself off with a slightly growing grin… proudly? "Damn, Sans. Didn't really think

you had it in ya to pack a wallop like that."

"I'm-I'm really, really sorry dude - Undyne. Captain," Sans shifted awkwardly, wishing that he had his jacket on for somewhere to put his hands. He spotted it on the small set of hooks by the door beside a large puffy yellow coat that he assumed was Undyne's. "God. I-I, uh. Must not be… thinking clearly."

"Evidently," Sans was amazed that a fish could sound so dry .

Though to be perfectly honest, he found himself incredibly lucky that Undyne wasn't beating the living hell out of him. Sans seemed to snap back into himself after a few uneasy moments, his mind still feeling a little blurry. He slipped out of Papyrus's grasp and stood next to the couch, leaning a little over Frisk to feel their forehead to ensure that the fever was gone before slowly sitting beside them on the edge of the couch. He caught a glimpse of their almost closed eyes, paying closer attention.

Brown .

"… How ya doin', buddy?" he asked quietly, his face softening as he rubbed their head. "You feelin' any better?"

Frisk nodded silently a couple of times.

"Good," he cupped their cheek in his hand, running his thumb tenderly beneath their eye. "Good. Thank god . Please, kiddo. Don't ever, ever scare me like that again. I… I thought I'd almost lost you there. Don't scare me like that. Okay, buddy?"

Frisk's lips were tight, but they nodded once more, looking guilty.

"I'm serious, Frisk." Sans looked them dead in the eyes, and their brows rose a little at the mention of their name. "I may not have organs, but kiddo, you are going to wind up giving me a heart attack . You sure you're alright?"

They nodded once more, slowly, not looking away for a long moment.

"… Okay," Sans closed his eyes and let out a long, uneven sigh, petting them on the head again. "Okay, buddy. I'll take your word for

it."

"Sans."

Sans blinked and glanced up at Undyne, who was watching with an odd expression that he couldn't place, her arms crossed.

"… Yeah, Undyne."

"Can I talk to you?"

"I'm right here," he motioned down toward himself.

"I meant outside," she replied through gritted teeth. It was obvious even to Sans that she was resisting punching him.

"It's a bit nippy."

"I came prepared," Undyne deadpanned, plucking her coat from the hook between her thumb and forefinger. Sans gave an internal sigh and gave Papyrus an apologetic look, to which his brother only nodded, as if giving him permission. He rose and trudged to the door, snagging his jacket on the way out.

Undyne was standing outside, staring up at the clouded ceiling and watching flakes of snow drift downward around them, her breath coming out through her nose in little white bursts of heat. Sans stood next to her for a while, looking up and peering through the magically formed clouds to see a couple of stalactites poking downward, almost as if the ceiling had teeth and they were all in the maw of a terrible beast. It certainly felt that way, sometimes.

Sans fished around in his jacket for a few moments before pulling something out, handing it to Undyne.

"… What is this?" she stared at the object he had dropped in her hand for a moment.

"What's it look like?" Sans stuck one corner of the treat in his mouth. "It's a dog biscuit."

"Why do you have dog biscuits - on second thought," Undyne frowned. "Considering who you work with, I can't say I'm all that surprised. I hope you don't expect me to actually eat this garbage-"

Undyne only stared at him with a wide eye as he withdrew a lighter from his inside pocket, flicking it a couple of times and heating the end of the dog biscuit to a fiery red. He took in a long, deep drag before letting out a perfect ring of smoke through his nasal bone, letting it drift up and away.

"… You've gotta be shitting me."

"I'm a skeleton," he shrugged simply. "I don't do that kind of thing."

"Then why do you have a bathroom?"

"Because I'm hygienic," Sans frowned a little.

"Have you seen your room lately?" Undyne snorted, curiously taking the lighter from him and flicking it a few times to produce a steady flame, taking a few experimental puffs of her own biscuit. "… Huh. These don't taste like I expected 'em to. Not good, just… y'know. Not bad, either."

"That reminds me," Sans reclaimed the lighter and stuck it back in his pocket, taking another breath and blowing out smoke. "I owe Doggo a whole box of these."

"Hell, these aren't bad. Get me a box."

"Don't think that's such a good idea, Undyne."

"What?" her brows furrowed as she stared down at him. "You don't think I'm a big enough girl to handle a couple of dog treats now?"

"Eh. You'll find out in a minute," he shrugged nonchalantly. "I figured you wanted to talk to me about sommat before kicking my ass. Uh. Sorry about the whole 'trying to kill you' thing. By the way."

Undyne only snorted again at his not very sincere apology. She wound up inhaling smoke through her nose, hacking and coughing feverishly. Sans didn't bother hiding his smirk.

"Who said I came to kick your ass? Besides. You caught me by surprise," she rubbed her watering now red tinged eye with her free hand. "That's all. I could totally kick your ass in a fair fight."

"Uh, duh," Sans rolled his eyes. "That's why I don't fight fair."

"Yeah, but if we fought fought then I'd totally win. And you'd cry. Like, a lot."

"I know, Undyne. Kinda why I don't wanna fight you."

"We're getting off topic-" Undyne rubbed at her temple with her knuckles. "I, eh… dammit. Dammit . I know you dragged me out here for something. Wait, no, it was the other way around."

Undyne paused, blinking. She slowly, calmly looked back and forth between Sans, the smoke, and the dog biscuit.

"… Sans," she held the treat out from herself a little. "What exactly is in these, by the way?"

"Oh. You know."

And he said nothing else.

"… No," she gritted her teeth. "I do not know, smartass, that's why I'm asking!"

Sans only grinned up at her.

"… Oh my god," she dropped the biscuit in the snow with a deadpan. "You little shit . You actually drugged me to keep me from beating your bony white ass into the ground."

"I told you," his smirk widened. "I don't fight fair ."

"… Sans if I were not so ungodly high right now I would make you regret the rest of your short life."

"Not much change," he shrugged, dropping his own biscuit and watching the smoking cherry fizzle out in the powdery snow. "Not like I don't regret my entire life already."

"Dark, dude. You really are a completely different person when you're sick."

Sans had to fight to keep the surprise off of his face.

Of course that's what she would think. That was probably what Papyrus thought as well. He'd even scolded them beforehand about making sure not to get sick. To them, it had probably seemed as if they'd both just come down with a terrible simultaneous illness.

But that raised the question…

What exactly had happened?

It was entirely possible that he'd simply succumbed to exhaustion due to magically exerting himself, but that seemed a little far fetched. It didn't explain the sudden fever, the panicked, wild dreams, the hallucinations…

Were they hallucinations though? It had felt so real. He felt his fist tighten a little in his pocket at the thought. There had been another child, hurting Frisk. Shouting in their face, shaking them, he had been so furious. It had felt real. Those unnerving, sharp red eyes. It felt too familiar, too surreal. That push in his head, the burning in his chest. Too many questions unanswered. He needed to find out if his suspicions were on track or not.

"… Sans."

He blinked, having entirely forgotten where he was for a moment.

"Don't hurt the kid," he begged instantly, turning toward her fully. "Undyne, please . I'll… I'll pick up extra sentry shifts! I can-"

"Sans," she looked down at him with a frown, offended. "Do you even know why I'm here?"

Sans didn't answer.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," she sighed, crossing her arms and leaning against the house, staring out at Snowdin. "You… you know that Papyrus came to me asking about drug symptoms?"

Sans felt as if his bones had suddenly been filled with ice.

"They were like that when we found 'em," Sans blurted, eye sockets widening.

"Yeah, he told me that part, bonehead," Undyne rolled her eye. "But, man. You know Papyrus. He tried to explain it to me without actually explaining much of anything. I can't be too sure, but I think he was trying to avoid hurting my feelings or something."

"So then why are you here?" Sans asked suspiciously.

"Because I had too many questions and not enough answers," she shrugged simply, pulling her coat a little tighter around her. "I, uh… actually got a look at the human, by the way. Real. Real good look."

"You mean the-"

"Yeah," Undyne finished before he could, staring with a hollow expression at nothing ahead of her. "That ."

They fell silent for a little while.

"Just… god," she shuddered eventually, looking (heh ) a little green around the gills. "I knew humans were nasty creatures, but, just… god !" Undyne threw out her arms in exasperation. "Even Gerson doesn't have scars like that!"

"I know, Undyne."

"I mean, who would do that?" she asked in disgust, kicking a little at the snow. "To a kid! To one of their own! It's fucked up, dude!"

"I know, Undyne."

"But monsters are what they're afraid of? Seriously Sans, what the fuck? !"

"I know, Undyne."

"So I thought - I, I thought…" Undyne rubbed her temples again, letting out an aggravated puff. "God. I don't know what I thought. Paps was just so… freaked, you know? And I know him. He's one of my best friends. Not a lot phases that guy."

"Yeah, Papyrus is pretty tough. Not much rattles him."

"I don't even - Sans did you really just make a skeleton pun. Right now."

Sans couldn't hide a weak chuckle. It was that or break down crying again.

Undyne pinched the bridge of her thin nose, letting out a deep sigh.

"Sans I swear as soon as I come down from this I am so kicking your ass."

"Let me know if you find it," he slapped his rear twice. "Mine went missing years ago."

"Sans-"

"Probably for the best, old thing had a huge crack in it."

Undyne let out a single guffaw before clapping her hand over her mouth, and Sans crowed internally.

"Why can't I stay on topic," she groaned and rubbed her face before holding up a hand. "Don't answer that, I know exactly why. Obviously I'm not here to kill somebody if I'm helping them eat stuff, dude."

"Yeah, but… why?"

"Because they hadn't eaten in two days," she stared at him as if he were stupid, which at that moment, he sincerely felt were true. "Man, you actually do have a thick skull."

"So…" Sans shifted from foot to foot. "What changed?"

"What do you mean by that?" she frowned.

"Uh. The first time you met? Ring any bells?"

"That was different," Undyne said defensively. "I'm not… it was weird," her frown deepened a little, her brows knitting in thought. "I just got this… awful feeling when I first saw them."

"What'cha mean?"

"Like they'd killed someone I cared about."

Sans very carefully, very firmly forced his expression to remain neutral.

"And… now you don't want to kill them. Forgive me if I'm kinda fuckin' suspicious."

Undyne leveled a glare at him, causing him to flinch. Her gaze eventually softened a bit, and she sighed.

"I just… y'know. Actually tried what Paps suggested."

"Friendship spaghetti?"

"Eh, we tried that too," she said flippantly. "Barfed it up all over the place, just like everything else aside from Al's soup. She makes some good stuff. But I meant the sitting down and talking thing."

"You talked," Sans stared at her in utter disbelief. "You. "

"Yeah?" Undyne shrugged with one shoulder. "I just wanted to get some answers out of 'em, at first, but… I dunno. They're nice."

"Yeah, well-"

"Too nice," she scowled again. "It's disgusting . Scars just prove how tough you are, how is that kid not freakin' indestructible?"

Sans almost laughed at that.

Almost.

"Just…" Undyne started awkwardly, shivering in the cold. "They're… I mean, damn. They're just a kid. Kid's shouldn't have battle scars like that, dude."

"I don't think those are from any fight they could have won, Undyne."

"I-I… know that," her face darkened for a moment. "I offered to show 'em my scar to see if it cheered them up any."

"You mean your eye?" Sans blinked again.

"No, I mean the one on my left butt cheek," she said, leaning around and looking behind her a little to pry open her pants a bit. "Got a nasty one when I tried to jump Asgore's trid-"

She clammed up and straightened immediately, her cheeks actually tinging a little pink.

"Anyway," she coughed conspicuously into her hand. "Fact of the matter is, I can't get much outta the human aside from wimpy goody two shoes crap and weird ass apologies that don't make any sense. So, as your boss," she said with added emphasis. "I'm making it your official job to find out everything you can about the kid."

"So then you can kill them." Sans deadpanned.

"Dude, no," Undyne slapped him in the back of the head. "You're gonna actually do your job, we're gonna find some mean human that'll fall down eventually, and then we're gonna cross the barrier, and after that we're gonna hunt down the sum'bitches that did that to a little kid and teach 'em the real meaning of pain !" she pounded one fist into her hand with a manic grin.

"… Undyne," Sans said after a long, long moment. "I think I finally have a little respect for you."

"We're totally gon- excuse you? 'The fuck do you mean, 'finally'?!"

Sans only laughed, shaking his head.

They fell silent again after a little while. Eventually Sans looked back up at her, uncertain.

"So… you're not gonna hurt the kid."

"No, Sans. I think Paps would sooner tear off his favorite arm rather than let somebody hurt them," she gave him a flat stare. "Besides, somehow I get the feeling that you're kinda keen on taking care of them."

"Gee golly what gave it away," Sans said emotionlessly.

"Are-are you serious?" she cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Dude, when you saw that the human was okay, your face lit up like a neon sign."

Sans felt his face heating a little, which was harder to ignore than he would have anticipated.

"Their name is Frisk."

"I'm serious!" she grinned and ignored him, punching his shoulder playfully. "You look at that kid the way a drowning sailor looks at a life raft. You think I don't know you wouldn't be a little pissed if I offed 'em?"

Sans's head slowly, gradually turned toward her, and she cringed a little to see that his eye sockets were completely devoid of light.

"Buddy," he said without budging an inch. "You'd be dead where you stand."

Undyne shivered again, and this time it certainly wasn't from the cold.

"… Kidding," Sans shrugged with a little grin, the lights in his eyes back. "Kidding, of course. Come on, Undyne. 'Course I'm kidding. You know I can't fight."

"I dunno about that…" Undyne's grin slowly returned, though she was clearly still uncomfortable. "Threw one of a hell of a punch with that blue magic of yours. You sure you don't wanna join the royal guard, too?"

"Positive," he said immediately. "That's always been my bro's thing, Undyne. Though, uh, while you're out here, I do have a question. You use… green magic, usually, right?"

"Uh, doi?" she blinked. "What, have you never watched me and Paps train?"

"Yeah, of course. Is there much of a difference between the thing you do, and, say… healing magic? I mean, it's all green magic, or…?"

"Uh, doi?" Undyne repeated. "You can't heal somebody with combat magic. That'd just be weird."

"R-right."

"Besides," she continued. "Even an idiot could tell you how careful you have to be with healing magic."

Sans suddenly felt very, very uneasy.

"Because it's complicated," he rubbed his knuckles together in his pockets. "Like blue magic? You know. Maintaining focus to knit cellular structure back together-"

"Pfft, what?" she scoffed. "Dude, no, that's not how it works. It's all about intent."

"That-that too…"

"No, man. It's complicated because it's simple," she tried to explain. "If your intentions aren't one hundred percent pure, all the way through your soul, if you're unsure, even a little, you could wind up doing some real damage instead of patching somebody up. Green magic is always best left to professionals," she thumped her chest a little proudly.

Sans felt like being ill. The horrible sinking feeling in his stomach grew no matter how much he tried to fight it. Then again, he couldn't very easily fight off his own self loathing that was growing more intense by the second. She must have seen the look on his face and mistaken it for something else, as she clapped a hand on his shoulder a moment later.

"Oh my god, dude," Undyne beamed at him. "Me, you and Paps; we should train! I could totally teach you how to fuck somebody up for good with green magic!"

Sans quietly and politely declined.

Besides.

He was pretty sure that he'd accomplished that already.

A short distance away, a small yellow flower vanished into the ground.