One Good Turn
Chapter 34: One Good Turn
"This will be an undertaking of historic import," Asgore said quietly with his massive hands folded in his lap. "Knowing this, you would still assist us?"
"Man, I just learned that monsters are real today," Blake ran a hand over his short hair, letting out a breath through his nose as they turned a corner. "It's… it's a lot to take in, but, still. Of course I'm gonna help you guys out. I'm just… not entirely certain how the rest of humanity is going to react."
"I cannot stop my people from trickling out from beneath the mountain," Asgore informed him without looking up. "I can only delay the inevitable."
"Yeesh, don't make it sound like a death sentence or anything," Blake cringed a little. "The main thing right now is getting everybody somewhere more comfortable and actually getting the whole story."
Asgore fell mysteriously quiet and somber at this.
The rest of the car ride was spent in silence.
'The whole story' could apparently wait.
His home was certainly much more crowded with a handful of monsters taking up space, but Blake wasn't all that worried about that. What he was worried about, however, was the enormous plume of blackened smoke belching out of his kitchen.
He hacked and coughed, swiping uselessly at the air as he desperately scurried to open windows.
"Where is it?" he wheezed as Asgore stood in the doorway, sniffing curiously at the smoke. "Where's the fire?"
"No fires here!" Papyrus poked his head out of the kitchen, soot mark running up his cheek. "Just, er, experimenting ."
Sans flinched in his half sleep.
"It's very… quaint," Asgore steepled his fingers together, looking about the packed apartment. "That is, aside from the fire."
"There's no fire anymore!" Undyne shouted from the kitchen, several pots banging together.
"Anymore?!" Blake spluttered.
"Not important!" Papyrus patted him genially on the shoulder. "Nyeh! Who wants pizza?"
It took several long minutes of trying to fan out the smoke through the windows (and the calming of one very confused, very curious, very distressed old neighborly woman who had come to check out what was burning) but the apartment was considerably less smoky afterwards. There wasn't nearly enough room in the kitchen for all of them, so Undyne and Papyrus passed around plates stacked with slices of blackened pizza. Even Sans cracked an eye socket for a few minutes to taste test the pizza.
Mysteriously, nobody seemed very hungry. Blake stood in the corner of the room, observing them all quietly.
"… Alright," Blake said after a while of silence which was only interrupted by the soft clicking and clacking of Alphys's claws on the keyboard. "Now that everybody is here, how about we start at the beginning?"
"Well, you see," Sans said without opening his eyes. "There was this big bang, right?"
Nobody laughed.
"… Man, I'm unappreciated in my time," Sans rolled his eyes.
"I suppose…" Asgore began quietly from his spot in the recliner, his hands folded over one another. Undyne leaned over the back of the couch attentively, her hand brushing the neck of Alphys's lab coat. Alphys flushed at this and stopped typing immediately, pretending very hard to be listening to the king.
"What'cha doin'?" Sans heard Undyne whisper into Alphys's ear.
"Texting Mettaton. Pay attention," she giggled lightly.
"I suppose that I should begin with… the war."
"Which war?" Blake blinked.
"Well," Asgore began slowly. "Which one do you think?"
"Um. The civil war?"
"There was a civil war?" Asgore gave him a strange look.
"And the World War. And World War Two."
"The entire world went to war? Twice ?!"
"Y-yeah?" he frowned. "Just how long were you guys under the mountain?"
"That depends," Sans shrugged, cracking open an eye socket from his position on the beanbag chair, revealing that he was indeed still awake despite his attempts to appear otherwise. "What year is it now?"
"20XX."
"It has indeed been many, many generations since we were first forced below the ground," Toriel said quietly, though she was still loud enough to be heard over the absolutely deafening silence. Frisk watched her pace in slow circles from their spot on the couch between the scientist and Papyrus, who was still cradling his arm in the makeshift sling. Sans caught Blake's gaze on the magically cauterized wound several times, but said nothing. "The monster and human war was… terrible. On many accounts."
"I don't think that there would be many, if any publicly available records of a war of that caliber," Blake mused quietly, stroking his chin with his forefinger. "It's likely that the government would have some kind of recording, considering that to almost everybody monsters are just myths and legends. To find out that you're… real, it's just…"
"Frightening?" Asgore asked lowly.
"I was gonna say strange," Blake shrugged. "I mean, you don't seem like monsters to me. Not in the term I'm used to. Ever since I first met Sans over there," he nodded toward the slyly peeking
skeleton. "Monster just seems more like another term of species. You're all just people to me."
If it was quiet before, by now you could have heard a pin drop.
"… What'd I say?" Blake tried to back into the corner uselessly, rubbing his arms. A flush was creeping up his face.
"Y'know what?" Undyne leaned a little further over the couch, grinning widely. "I thought you were kind of a dork at first. But you're alright. For a human, I mean," Undyne added smarmily.
"Thank… you…?"
"Don't mention it. I don't think we've actually been formerly introduced, by the way," she clicked her fingers. "I'm not just Undyne.
Captain of the royal guard. As in, the Captain."
"… 'kay?"
"I'm unappreciated in my time," Undyne threw up her hands and rolled her eye, but her grin remained.
"Obviously," Asgore continued and it fell silent once again. "Monsters were not the victors of the war. Seven human mages sealed us all underground, until a force equivalent to theirs could be brought to the barrier."
"Wait, wait, hold on," Blake held up his hands. "Question. Mages?"
"V-very p-powerful mages, at that," Alphys chimed in, leaning over the computer screen a little. "We w-were unable to r-recreate that kind of soul power, even w-with everything that we had."
"Humans used to be able to do magic," he gawked at the king. "Are you serious."
"But no longer, I am afraid," Asgore informed him softly. "Perhaps, this is for the better. Considering… well."
"That's… pretty terrible," Blake agreed. "The whole 'being sealed underground' thing. I'm claustrophobic as is, it sounds like a nightmare to me. And you might be right about it being a good thing, humans not having magic anymore. Good god, I can hardly begin to imagine Hitler with magic on his side."
"… I'm… not certain who you are referring to," Asgore said honestly.
"Okay," Blake ran a hand down his face. "Okay . After this, I, uh, really need to get you guys up to speed on human advances. Absolutely none of us are going to be happy with most of it, but it's something that needs to be done."
"Even so…" Asgore continued, looking down to his hands again. "We were sealed beneath the earth for a very, very long time. So long
that I am not surprised that we have been almost forgotten entirely."
"So, it would take seven human souls to break down this barrier," Blake began slowly, turning his head toward the pensive king. "I can't help but notice that you've only got the one human with you, and he doesn't seem like much of a talker."
"They will talk when they damn well feel like it," Sans snapped rather bitterly, earning a shocked look
from those all around the room. He flinched afterwards, but didn't speak further. Papyrus was giving his brother a very strange, worried glance, but he did not reply either. Blake cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded.
"The… other humans," Asgore pressed onward, staring down at a spot between his feet. "That fell. They… I-I…"
"The other six humans did not survive," Toriel said in a cold, clipped tone. "And Asgore kept their souls so that the barrier could be broken."
"Yes," he said with no small measure of relief, looking thankfully to Toriel, who only returned the look with a blank, even glower. "That is the thing that happened."
"So, if I'm guessing right," Blake scratched the back of his neck, leaning into the corner. "Uh. Frisk, was it? Frisk was the one to break the barrier? How?"
"I-I am… not entirely certain, to be honest," the king frowned, finally looking up at him. "We are still confused on many things. When I brought them to the barrier, I was… attacked. By… something."
"A flower." Sans added quietly. He would not look directly at anyone, and sat staring ahead through the wall with a strange expression. Papyrus wore an equally confusing face, and was taking slow, deep breaths with his eye sockets closed.
"You were attacked by a flower," Blake reiterated blankly.
"Yes," Asgore nodded once. "I was incapacitated. And when I awoke, I discovered that young
Papyrus here was the one to have dispatched it and saved us all." "How did a flower do that?" he stared at the king.
"He… absorbed the six human souls," Sans filled them in softly, still not looking at anyone. "Hhe… that-that thing that he turned into…" he shuddered briefly. "If-if it hadn't been for Paps, then…"
"A great travesty could have befallen the world," Asgore agreed. "Monsters. Humans. No one would have been safe."
"That's an understatement if I ever heard one," Sans scoffed bitterly, crossing his arms and leaning forward with a weary look on his face. "If it hadn't been for my bro, it would have been hell on earth."
"But how does a flower manage literally any of that?" Blake pressed on curiously.
"I-I t-think, u-umm…" Alphys started nervously before she was interrupted. Surprisingly, by Papyrus.
"He wasn't always a flower, you know."
Everyone's heads turned toward Papyrus. The taller skeleton was sitting with his arm and a half folded over one another, and the bags beneath his eye sockets were more pronounced than ever. It hurt Sans to see him like that. He looked just like he did as he cradled the flower as it died. Drained. Exhausted. Miserable . Frisk was staring up at him uncertainly, trying to squeeze their hands together like they were attempting to hold their own hand.
"We… we used to talk," Papyrus began softly, unable to look at anyone. "A lot. He didn't want me to let anyone know, but-but we did.
We were… I thought we were friends . And one night, he told me some-some things. Some very… strange things."
"Like… what?" Sans asked, his throat feeling mysteriously dry.
"He told me his name," Papyrus closed his eyes and let out a long, uneven sigh. "Before he… you know. Became a flower."
"And what was it?" Asgore pried.
"I'm… I'm sorry," Papyrus took another shuddering breath. "I… I can't say. Not right now. Please, your majesty. It's… not the time."
"I… understand," the king rumbled and shook his head. "It is never easy, and betrayal by a loved one always cuts the deepest."
"Yes," Toriel said quietly, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Funny thing, that."
Asgore cleared his throat uncomfortably, looking away.
"Okay," Blake blew out a heavy breath, running a hand through his short hair. "Okay. I'm getting a clearer picture now. And after Papyrus beat up a flower, then - wait, if the flower had six souls, how did Frisk break the barrier? I'm still confused."
"As are many of us," Asgore frowned, turning his attention to the human child. "I was aware that humans cannot absorb human souls. Tell us, human Frisk. How did you bring down the barrier?"
He was met by an extremely uneasy silence.
"As Sans said," Toriel said after almost a full minute of awkward quiet. "They will speak when they are ready."
Sans was sweating bullets.
What was wrong with Frisk? Something was definitely wrong. Chara spoke. Not very loudly, which was strange enough for Chara, but seeing the normally vocal and upbeat Frisk so still, so absolutely silent was like wordless torture.
And after the flower, he'd certainly filled his torture quota and wasn't in the mood for any more ever again. And if he was feeling this consistently terrible, he couldn't fathom just how Frisk felt.
He didn't really know.
It occurred to him that he never even bothered to ask, either.
Good job on that, douchenozzle.
"… Hey," Sans leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, looking directly into Frisk's wide eyes. The others chattered quietly amongst themselves, and Sans took advantage of the conversations around them. "You… you okay, kiddo?"
Frisk glanced nervously back and forth like they were observing for danger before swallowing and nodding once, very, very slowly. They kept glancing over at the only human in the room, like they were trying to tell him something with their eyes but couldn't convey the message without speaking. It irked Sans badly. What was wrong? Was there something that he was missing?
Either way, he kept a closer eye socket on the human.
"Okay," Blake clapped his hands together after a while, causing the chatter to die down slowly. "Alphys? Keep the laptop on. So. I've been thinking it over, and it's pretty clear that you're going to need a declaration of independence in case the government tries to pull a fast one on you. On top of that you're going to need papers for proof of birth certificates, as well as an official declaration of peaceful entry as passport to the country. Although technically you've never left the country, it pays to be safe," he began to pace in what little room their was, running a hand through his short hair. "Plus, if we can get word of caution to the rest of humanity about monsterkind before they really start coming out from underneath the mountain, it'll be safer for everyone."
"You would go through all these lengths for us?" Toriel asked, slightly surprised.
"Said it before, I'll say it again," Blake said with determination in his eyes. "You seem like good people to me. One good turn deserves another, and all that," he added, a little flippantly.
"I do not know if anyone has told you, human Blake," Asgore stood to his full height, horns scraping against the ceiling and poking a couple more light holes as he stood before him with a small, kind smile. "But thank you. For everything."
"Ayy, no worries," Blake shrugged, a little sheepishly. "My only regret is that I don't have more to offer."
"All that you have done for us is much more than we were anticipating," Toriel stood beside Asgore, hands folded into her sleeves. "There is goodness in you. I, too, wish to offer you my thanks."
"Seriously, guys…" he laughed nervously, ruffling his hair awkwardly.
"Thank me after we get everything sorted out. And maybe again after I get something in the house that's not cold pizza."
There were a couple of titters at that.
Sans had finally almost managed to relax.
And then some jackass had to go and kick the door in.
"ALRIGHT, BEAUTIES AND GENTLEBEAUTIES, THE STAR HAS FINALLY ARRIVED!"
"Oh, god help us all," Sans groaned into his hands. Just when he thought that today couldn't possibly go bad. He just had to go and get his hopes up.
"Mettaton?! " Papyrus squealed with stars in his eye sockets and leapt up looking very much as if Christmas had just come early. And was delivering Mettaton shaped presents. "What are you doing here?"
"The world's greatest star couldn't possibly leave his friends in a potentially dangerous situation, right?" Mettaton flicked a strand of shining black pseudo hair from his face, revealing a shining eye. That too-polished mettalic sounding voice grated on Sans's nerves. "By the way, smile darlings, you're on camera."
"Uh. I. Um. H-hi?" Blake waved meekly. "Uh. Welcome to my house. I guess. Thanks for kicking the door off its hinges."
"Fear not!" Papyrus held his remaining hand to his chest. "The Great Papyrus is a master of fixing doors! And also breaking them!"
"And that's my cue to bail," Sans forced himself to stand, holding out a hand to Frisk. "Heyya, kiddo. Lookin' kinda down, there. Wanna come with me to Grillby's?"
Frisk smiled and nodded once, taking his hand softly and hopping down from the couch.
They were gone almost the moment that they squeezed past the robot.
In Sans's opinion, they couldn't have been gone sooner.
.
Once more, Sans found himself falling through the void.
It only lasted for the briefest of moments. He held on to Frisk as they fell through eternity, blackness whipping and warping around them as they plummeted, and for just a fraction of a second, he could have sworn that he could feel eyes on him, calculating, watching his every move
And then it was over before he could fully allow the thought to click, and they were stepping slowly out of the shortcut into the dark living room. Their Snowdin house felt so oddly… empty, without Papyrus there. The strain from taking a shortcut such a long distance was wearing on him heavily, but Sans forced himself to focus and shrug it off. Frisk took a sudden shuddering breath and clung to him tightly around the middle, and he petted the back of their head gently. He didn't want to think about this house being empty.
"Take it easy, buddy," Sans held the trembling child closely. "… Buddy? You okay?"
Frisk shuddered and gasped, shaking their head fiercely.
"Frisk?" he frowned. "Frisk . Buddy! What's wrong?"
Frisk was staring with wide eyes into the corner of the dark room, and Sans felt a prickle on the back of his neck. His head whipped around to look at the spot they were staring at, but there was nothing there. He thought, he hoped, he wouldn't think about it.
"Kiddo?" Sans turned back to them worriedly. "You're really startin' to freak me out a little. Tell me what's wrong, babybones."
"C-can't…" he almost didn't hear them their voice was so soft. At least they were saying something."Hurts."
"What hurts?" Sans frowned as they looked up at him nervously. "I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong, babybones."
"Please, Sans…?" Frisk slowly took his hand in theirs. "I-I just… I hurt. On the inside. Can… can you make me feel better? With-with the magic? Please?"
Say no.
Say no.
Say no.
Say no.
Say no.
I swear to god. Just say no.
Say no.
Say no.
Be responsible for once in your miserable fucking life"Please?" Frisk stuck out their bottom lip quietly. "I'll be good."
"I-I… look," Sans gave them a light hug, drawing them over to the couch and sitting down with them, though he did so with no small amount of difficulty. "Kiddo. I told you. I just… I just can't do that anymore."
"Why not?" they pouted dejectedly. "I'll be good -!"
"It's not about that," Sans carefully took their hand in his, looking them in the eyes. He was sweaty and trying not to freak out at this point. "You are a good kid, Frisk. But I just… I just can't… it's hurting you, babybones."
"No, it's not!" Frisk insisted, pulling his hand closer and holding it over their chest, looking like they were about to cry. "Please, Sans, please-"
"Babybones, listen-"
"I just… I n-need to feel good," Frisk desperately tried to explain, a manic look in their eyes. "I waited, I was good, I need it!"
"It's not right," Sans pleaded with them, feeling as though he were fighting an uphill battle. Like shoveling sand up a ladder.
"Sans, please… !"
"No, listen to me, babybones-" Sans could feel the spark of anger flaring in his chest, and he fought to keep it down. Now was not the time. "- we are not having this discussion right now and that's final, understand?"
Frisk cringed and looked away from him, struggling to keep him from seeing the tears streaming down their pained face. It would have been preferable if they had pouted or something, it wouldn't have twinged as much as seeing that. It made his soul ache.
"… Shit," he muttered under his breath. He started to reach out for them and they flinched hard, causing him to freeze for a moment, but he gently brushed their hot tears away with the back of his hand and drew them into a slow, gentle hug. He almost didn't hear them as they buried their face in his shoulder.
"Don't… don't you love me anymore?"
It felt as if he had just been sucker punched in the gut. He would have preferred that, actually. It would have hurt far, far less.
"Of course I love you, kiddo," Sans pulled at their hand gently. They wouldn't respond, regardless.
"Just… just trust me, babybones," Sans said softly. They wouldn't look at him anymore. They wouldn't even answer him, and seeing them go so silent again physically hurt, it made his soul ache so horridly. "Come on. Please, kiddo. Don't cry. C'mon now. You're a strong kid, Frisk. Frisk," he said again, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice, carefully wiping their eyes with his hand as they sniffled. Couldn't they just understand? "You gotta be strong. Okay? It's-it's not something that you need, and it's not good for you. It's not gonna help."
"Why not?" Frisk rubbed their nose with their sleeve. "It makes me feel… better . I need it, it's a-all I can… I just need it."
"I'm pretty sure that's what got us in the whole soul debacle in the first place," Sans explained quietly. "And for all we know, it could wind up making it worse ."
"Chara's still mad…" Frisk rubbed their elbows, looking away. At least they had finally stopped crying, but they still looked so dejected, so put out.
"Can't say I'm surprised," Sans shook his head slowly. "Don't worry, babybones. I'll figure all of this out. Just trust me. I'll… I'm gonna fix this."
Somehow.
"… C'mon, kiddo. I… I will. Later," he swallowed dryly, feeling like he had just condemned himself. He didn't have to keep his word on it, he just had to keep telling himself that he didn't owe them anything, he could deal with it later. "What do you say we catch up on heavy stuff like this after we grab some grub, eh?"
Not wanting to remain sitting in the dark, Sans held out his hand for Frisk to take, and they did with a thankful little smile. It warmed his soul to finally see them smiling again, even if it was just a little one. Sans dug in his pocket for a moment as he tried to lock the door behind them.
"… Huh," he blinked, frowning. Had he forgotten to lock the door? Oh well.
Frisk gave him an inquisitive look, but he only shook his head and guided them down the steps. He felt a chill run up his spine as he looked out through the snowfall.
Snowdin was utterly devoid of life.
He felt Frisk squeeze his hand gently, almost as if they could sense his distress. He gave a weak chuckle and continued down the frozen path, although it was Frisk leading him by this point. His
knees felt oddly gelatin like, and it was hard to shake off. He couldn't help but throw a couple of nervous glances behind them, even though there was nobody there.
Paranoid. You're getting paranoid.
Frisk shivered in the snow, wiping their eyes again but carrying on with determination. They meandered down the path at a leisurely pace until they arrived at Grillby's, and Sans felt another rush of dread as he saw that the normally bright and warm lights in the windows were oddly dim.
The bell rang as they entered, and yet another sense of déjà vu overwhelmed him when he saw that the bar was almost completely empty. Thankfully, the pub was not entirely empty. Only the bartender remained in his spot behind the counter, humming a tune as he packed away glasses into a cardboard box.
"Whassup, Grillbz?" Sans gave him a half wave.
"Oh! It is good to see you again, my friends," Grillby seemed to be smiling, though Sans could never really tell through all the flickering flame. "You have caught me at quite the time. Almost everyone else has headed for the surface."
"So it's really beginning," Sans stuck his hands in his pockets, letting out a sigh through his teeth. "It's finally happening."
"This is indeed a marvelous occasion," Grillby nodded, motioning toward the bar as he rolled up his sleeves. "Can I interest you in one last drink, my friend?"
"You know me too well," Sans winked as he took a spot on the stool, patting the one beside him.
Frisk hopped up onto the stool
And immediately set off a whoopie cushion. They pulled it out and stared blankly at Sans.
"Sorry," he shrugged, unable to fight back his grin. "Old habits die hard, I guess."
So do some people.
"I had heard that you and your brother were already on the surface," Grillby leaned atop the counter, crackling softly. "Surely you did not come all this way simply to see me."
"Can't get burgers like yours anywhere else in the world, Grillbz."
"I'm afraid that my usual menu is temporarily discontinued, for now," Grillby shook his head, noting the crestfallen expression that Sans wore. "However, drinks are still available. Consider the first one on the house."
"You're a good man, Grillby," Sans grinned up at him as Grillby poured him a glass full to the brim with bubbling liquid. Sans gently nudged Frisk's hand away when they tried to reach for the drink. "Uh. Sorry, kiddo. This one here is a 'skeletons only' drink."
"Hot chocolate then," Frisk mumbled somewhat crankily, hiding their eyes, but Grillby seemed to hear and vanished into the fire exit.
"… Alright," Sans turned on the barstool a little, propping his weary head up on one hand as he stared over at them. "What's up with you not talkin' to anybody?"
Frisk only shrugged and looked away.
"C'mon, kiddo. Don't play this game with me right now."
"I-I just…" Frisk fiddled with their fingers, pulling at their hands. "I just… I can't."
"'Kay. Why not?"
Frisk opened and closed their mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out.
"Hey, look at it this way," he lazily threw out an arm toward the empty bar. "Nobody's gonna overhear what you've got to say."
"… Please don't be mad," Frisk yanked weakly at a few strands of their hair.
"Kiddo, I'm not gonna be mad just 'cause you wanna talk."
Frisk tried to speak again, and once more failed to say anything.
"… It was the fucking flower, wasn't it?" Sans asked quietly, feeling the familiar rage bubbling in his bones.
Frisk looked like they wanted to say something, to say anything, and he would have listened, but they just wouldn't tell him. It was clear that they were embarrassed, the ashamed flush creeping into their cheeks was painful to watch. They appeared to be on the verge of crying again, and if that happened then he certainly wasn't going to remain calm for long. "… You know what," Sans gently took their hands from their tangled hair, holding them in his own and looking them in the eyes. "It doesn't matter. You don't gotta say anything you don't want to. Okay, babybones? That… thing is gone. It's gone for good, and he's never gonna hurt you or anybody else, ever again."
It almost sounded like they muttered something like 'made me say' but wouldn't respond when he glanced at them. Their arms were wrapped around their knees and that hurt, thousand yard stare was back.
God I really fucked up, didn't I.
Frisk sniffled miserably and wiped their eyes furiously until their cheeks were red from the effort, and Sans patted them on the head.
Grillby soon returned with a piping hot drink, which he wordlessly placed in front of Frisk.
Sans couldn't quite shake the feeling that Grillby had taken a little too long in making a single mug of hot chocolate, but didn't press the matter. It wasn't like it would have done much good, anyway. Grillby could be remarkably silent when he wanted to be. Usually at the most opportune times.
It made Sans uneasy.
"So," Sans cleared his throat, turning back to the bartender. "I… guess this is it, huh."
"The whole world awaits," Grillby agreed quietly, crossing his fiery arms. "At long last, endless possibilities are upon us."
"So what are you gonna do first?" Sans stared up at him. "Explore the world? Take in the sights? Take up surfing?"
"What, and miss out on a perfectly good business opportunity?" Grillby chuckled. "From what I hear of it, monster food could prove to be quite lucrative to humans. I am a businessman before all else, my friend."
Sans only laughed and shook his head.
"A businessman? And yet you hand out free drinks?"
"Only the first one was free. I'm putting the rest on your tab."
"Never change, Grillby. Never change."
.
Chapter End Notes
This time, on: Sans Continues To Fuck Up