Try

Chapter 38: Try

'Rachel' was a bit of an odd woman, Sans thought to himself.

She had apparently let her hair down at some point in the night, and it fell down to her shoulders in black waves. Toriel and Alphys remained in the kitchen, talking amongst themselves about their plans as they baked a couple of pies together. Blake had simply stood back in utter awe the from the first one she had made, casting magical fire out of her hands and cooking the homemade pie to perfection. Sans wondered just how long a human would have to see something like that before the initial shock of seeing magic in action wore off. Frisk never seemed to be afraid of magic. Then again, they were a very brave kid.

Rachel sat in the recliner with Blake leaning over the back, chin in his hands as he stared absentmindedly back and forth between the conversation and the movie. Undyne didn't speak at all the entire time, utterly blown away by the film about cartoon mermaids, but Sans couldn't really care less as he sat on the floor with his back to the couch, eye sockets loosely closed as he listened to the conversation. Asgore and Papyrus shared the sofa with Frisk squeezed in between them, and they looked like they desperately wanted to hold his hand and even tried once before remembering. Their face softened sadly and they looked away, fiddling with their hands for a while before eventually tucking their arms into their sleeves.

"So, yeah. I took after my grandfather, mostly," Rachel continued quietly, hands folded neatly in her lap with one leg crossed over the other. Her cheeks were tinged, and Sans quietly noted that she had accepted quite a bit of Blake's brandy. "He really loved his job, couldn't stand the 'stay behind a desk all day' type of reporters. The kind of guy who thought a day was wasted if he couldn't get dirt under his nails while he worked. I think that you and he would have really gotten along well, your highness."

"He sounds like a fine man," Asgore nodded kindly, and she smiled back at him. "It would have been nice to meet him."

Rachel fell silent for a moment, sadness passing over her face for just a moment before she sighed and readjusted her hair, brushing black locks out of her face.

"It was… really cool to meet all of you," Rachel beamed quietly at them, flipping the pages on her notepad a few times and tucking her pen behind her ear. "I definitely think that I've got enough to go on. I… I guess a part of me still can't believe that this is really happening."

"Just, uh… try not to let them publish anything too inflammatory?" Blake pulled away from the back of the recliner as sh stood.

"Pfft. What do you take me for, some two bit schmuck?" she snorted and straightened her clothing confidently. "This isn't even going to get published until my boss has actual proof of monsters, so there's not much I can do until tomorrow except go over it and highlight the juicy bits, because even the pictures are going to be hard pressed to believe. I mean, a child saving all of monsterkind? I'll be lucky if this doesn't blow up in my face first."

"Thanks again, Rach," Blake guided her to the door. "Good luck."

"Funny. You're the one wishing me good luck," she sighed again and shook her head, clasping a firm hand to his shoulder for a moment.

"Be careful . Understood?"

"What?" Blake looked a little hurt, running a hand through his short hair. "I'm careful. I'm super careful. I'm the most careful guy I know."

"Blake, you got third degree burns from sticking your hands in a toaster-"

"That was one time !" he ushered her quickly out the door. "Good luck, see you tomorrow, adios, yadda yadda. Oy vey."

Rachel only shook her head as she left. Asgore stood and yawned, attempting to stretch and only bumping the ceiling. Asgore rumbled quietly to himself when he did, shaking his head and heading off curiously to the kitchen. Bits of plaster rained down to the floor, the king flinching and looking apologetically at him before quietly excusing himself.

"… Sorry this place is so small, you guys," Blake flinched a little at the claw marks on the ceiling.

"It's nothing to worry about, human Blake," Papyrus informed him kindly as he stood and stretched his arm and a half behind his head. "It might not be roomy, but it is very cozy once you get used to it."

"I'd suggest a hotel like that Mettaton guy," Blake shrugged. "I hope that works out for him, he can sort of pass for human if he's careful, but he doesn't really strike me as the type to hide it. But, uh, I'm not entirely certain how humans would react to a whole bunch of monsters checking in."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Papyrus shook his head with a smile. "I'm going to go see if anyone needs help in the kitchen."

Blake seemed supremely upset at this, but Papyrus apparently didn't notice as he bounded off heartily toward the others. Blake ran a hand over his head, looking helplessly at Undyne. He started to speak to her but she only held a finger to her lips, staring wide eyed at a movie scene with a singing octopus. Blake sighed heavily, trodding over toward Frisk. Sans kept his eye sockets mostly closed, stilling his breathing a little to continue the illusion of sleep. Blake was leaning over him to Frisk, and Sans felt the sudden, very intense, very violent urge to grab the human and push him away. He was too close to his kid and he couldn't see what he was doing, nobody got that close to his kid he'd fucking kill him-!

Sans let out a shuddering breath, forcing himself to remain calm.

What was wrong with him? Why was he getting so overprotective? He wasn't paranoid . He wasn't .

"Hey there, squirt," he heard Blake say softly. "You're… looking a little green around the gills," he gave a weak chuckle, but Sans knew forced laughter when he heard it. "You doing okay, fella?"

He didn't hear Frisk speak, but they must have nodded, because he heard Blake hum quietly.

"Okay. Just thought I'd check. You really don't look so good, little guy. Let me know if you need anything, alright? You know where the bathroom is if you need to be sick, right? I'm going to go stop Papyrus. No offense to your friend, but I kind of don't like the thought of him being in there after the fourth time he set fire to my kitchen."

Frisk giggled quietly, and Sans felt that sudden bubbling anger again.

Blake was making them laugh.

It hurt that it hadn't been him to do it.

Why?

He wasn't… jealous or anything. That would just be silly . Blake was just looking out for his kid. Being nice to his babybones.

… Sans didn't like it.

Regardless, he didn't particularly care for the human being around his kid any longer than necessary.

… Shit.

Blake must have wandered off to the kitchen because when Sans cracked an eye socket he was gone. He looked blankly at the back of Undyne's head for a moment, watching her toy with her ponytail while she watched the movie. Sans sighed quietly and picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his aching back before dropping into the seat beside Frisk on the sofa.

"… Mind if I sit here?" Sans asked quietly. Frisk responded by smiling toothily at him and hugging

him tightly. Sans let out a breath and hugged them back, running his hand over the top of their head. So long as he could keep them close, that was all that mattered. He really, really had grown too attached. A small part of him silently wished that he could go back to just thinking of them as the anomaly. He wouldn't be getting so overprotective. He wouldn't have thoughts to fight against. He could just…

Go back?

He didn't want to go back. Even though it was inevitable. For once in his life, things were moving forward . He didn't know what would happen. How things would turn out. He had no clue as to what the future held. He didn't know if he could even trust this new human who had been so kind to them, without asking a single thing in return. Nobody was that nice. Not humans, anyway. There was always a price to everything. Something was just plain wrong, and he didn't know what. He was going to pinpoint exactly what it was about Blake that put him on edge. Perhaps when he was out of the house he could have a decent chance to snoop around and see what he could dig up on him. Maybe the Rachel woman had some more insight that he could look into. She had been point blank terrified at first, but after a few hours of just sitting down and talking with them all she had turned out to be not all that bad. She was very polite and especially respectful toward the king and queen, and seemed to ask more questions pertaining to her own curiosity rather than her journalism. Sans didn't like that she peppered Frisk with question after question before finally realizing that they weren't going to speak to her. Why was it so hard for her to just understand that the kid didn't want to talk?

Humans could be so strange.

After pie was served to everyone, Blake began gathering blankets for everyone. Alphys and Undyne shared the kitchen, which was fine with Sans. He insisted that Toriel and Asgore take his bed (if they could both even fit on it) and he finally stopped before Sans and Frisk on the couch, arms full of quilts. He stepped carefully beside the quietly snoring skeleton on the recliner in a bundle of blankets, shaking his head when he saw Papyrus try to grab at something in his sleep.

"We really should have picked up some more sleeping bags or something," Blake frowned as he passed a couple of blankets to Frisk and Sans.

"Ayy, don't worry 'bout it," Sans shook his head with a small smile. "Thanks, man. I… really appreciate all you've done for us."

Blake did not blush this time, exactly, but his ears did turn a very bright shade of pink from the praise.

"I'm sure anybody else would have done the same," he said simply, grinning widely. "G'night, you guys. If you need anything, I'm right down the hall in the laundry room."

"And, uh. Thanks," Sans added quietly. "For lookin' out for my kid."

"Frisk is your kid?" Blake blinked at him as he passed him the blankets.

"Yeah?" Sans looked between the child in his arms and the bewildered human in front of him. "I-I mean… not, uh. Not technically," he shifted uncomfortably. "But, yeah. I've been taking care of 'em since they… fell."

Blake mused over this quietly, pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"… This could be a problem."

"Why is that a problem?" Sans asked somewhat defensively, instinctively pulling Frisk a little closer. Frisk looked back and forth between them worriedly.

"If… if you're not Frisk's actual legal guardian," Blake began slowly. "Then there could be some issues. I don't even know if monsters technically have citizenship yet, we've gone over the papers a dozen times and we still can't work out all the kinks until Richard gets here tomorrow from his flight. If… if you don't have custody of Frisk, the country's government might try to put them in a children's home."

"Wait, what?!" Sans blurted, causing Papyrus to jerk in his sleep. He lowered his voice carefully, feeling far too sweaty and a little sick to his stomach. "This… that can't - I, I can't just… oh, shit," Sans ran a hand over the top of his head. Frisk looked so worried, so afraid. He didn't want them to look like that. They had been so comfortable a moment ago, so happy.

"Don't freak out," Blake held out his hands. "We're not going to let anybody take Frisk away. Okay? We'll… we'll figure this out. We'll get you all official citizenship as fast as possible so that you can get parental responsibility and legal guardianship. First thing in the morning. Don't even worry about it, bro. I've got your back."

Sans let out a quivering, aching sigh, closing his weary eye sockets. Frisk squeezed his hand gently to let him know that even though the despair was clawing at his chest, they were still there. They wouldn't leave his side. They were there, they were with him, and they weren't letting go.

It… helped. Just a little.

"… Thank you," Sans eventually said almost noiselessly. "God. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Blake said kindly as he placed a hand on Sans's shoulder. "I'm legally able to adopt, so I can claim Frisk as legally under my care until we can change official custody to you guys. Nobody is getting taken away. That sound good to you, Frisk?"

Frisk silently signed thank you and beamed at him, looking ready to cry out of relief.

"Rest easy, fellas," Blake shook his head slowly and straightened his back. "We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow. I hope you're prepared for crazy."

"Dude, my entire life is a cycle of crazy," Sans laughed weakly. "I… I just… thank you."

"Seriously, man, you're making me blush here, quit thanking me!" Blake chuckled and gave a two finger half salute as he turned. "G'night, guys. See you in the morning."

Frisk waved at him animatedly as he left, but he didn't seem to see. Sans could finally relax a little bit, and he sighed contentedly when Frisk gave him a tight hug, nuzzling their face into his shoulder.

Maybe he had been wrong about Blake.

That still wasn't going to stop him from snooping around the first chance that he got, though.

Sans was drifting through the dark.

He really didn't care for the feeling.

He saw flashes of dreams that flickered behind his eye sockets. Glimmering golden sunlight dancing through the stained glass windows as dust gently floated in the air. Cold steel gurneys that felt like they were freezing his bones. A deep darkness, so black that he could see colors that didn't appear to the untrained eye. He vaguely wondered if he would see Frisk in that darkness. He silently hoped so. They were so near, so close to them that he could still feel their soul somewhere, their powerful little heartbeat. At some level he knew that what he saw wasn't really there, that Frisk was cuddled up next to him under their blankets on the couch as they clung to him in their sleep. He wanted to keep them close. Keep them safe. Make them happy. He wanted that more than anything. He just wanted to see them again. Even if that meant having Chara with them, he didn't care. He even missed the brat, just a bit. They were both his kids. His little babybones. He was going to keep them safe. No matter what.

And then he saw it.

A little click of bone on bone, chittering in the dark.

He tried to call out but couldn't quite find his voice. Where was he anymore? He couldn't see anything but the dark. He could hear skittering, almost like a skeletal spider behind him, before him, around him. He knew that sound. The rattling of bones-

… No.

No, no no no.

NO.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Sans?"

He turned and tried to cast out a burst of magic to illuminate the dark, but it would not answer his call. He felt so tired. Like his bones were full of lead. He couldn't run. Couldn't find his little babybones to ensure that they were okay. Even with this growing feeling of dread he was still more concerned for their health than he was his own. He couldn't let him get close to them. He knew that voice.

"You aren't real," he heard himself say, but it was like the dark was simply swallowing his words. "You aren't real ."

"Aren't you?"

He stood there like he had always been standing there, hands folded calmly before him with that smug, all knowing smirk. That pronounced skeletal jaw, the slightly closed eye sockets as if he were squinting without his glasses, the lab coat that he had been wearing when Sans pushed him into his creation. Like he had never fallen at all. He just… stood there. Smiling . Like there was a joke that only he knew the punchline to. He hated that look, he despised it so much.

"Didn't you miss me, Sans?" Gaster asked much more quietly, his phalanges clicking together and resounding through the darkness in echoes. "Don't you have any love for your creator anymore?"

"Eat my bony ass out," he swore violently, clutching his fists tightly in his jacket pocket. "What do you want this time? Come to haunt me like the ghost you are, old man? You're just a fucking nightmare and I can't wait to drink you back into oblivion, you crusty old fuck."

Gaster only tittered, his jaw clicking and clacking as his phalanges reached over each other. He really was like a gigantic skeletal spider. Sans could have almost swore that he could see webbing, if he looked hard enough. Little lines protruding from nowhere and going everywhere. But it was gone the next time he tried to look. Like he was searching for something that wasn't there.

"Don't be distressed, Sans" Gaster said with a little smile. "I'm only here to give you a little bit of a warning."

"Suck a fat one," Sans glowered at him angrily. "Why can't you just fucking stay dead?"

"Say what you like," he started to readjust glasses that weren't there. "I just wanted to drop in again and let you know something important."

Sans held his breath, wanting nothing more than to summon a blaster and incinerate the skeleton's ghost. If he even was a ghost. He was less than that. He was a dream. None of this was real. It wasn't real. It was a dream, and he could make it go away if he were lucid enough, so why wasn't it going away

"You are going to want to reset soon," Gaster informed him quietly with a smile. "I want you to repress that urge. You're good at repressing urges," he drifted through the dark without walking, and Sans felt like he was being smothered slowly. He was too close, far too close for comfort. He could still see Gaster standing calmly before him, but he felt like he was behind him too, leaning over his head and choking the life out of him. "I have seen so much, Sans. I want you to change the future."

"I want a future without you in it," Sans hissed angrily.

"Just think over what I told you…" he simply smirked at him, folding his hands behind his back. "Don't let your little… harlot reset. That's all I ask of you, Sans."

"Don't you fucking call them that! " he was shouting at this point, but his voice felt too small, too weak to even hear himself. The shadows were too much, it was like he was being slowly eaten by them. His hateful swinging fists hit air; less than that, like grabbing at the void.

In the end he only wound up jamming his hands back in his pockets.

"You'll remember our little chat, won't you, Sans?" Gaster said quietly, but he could still hear him like he was whispering beside his head. "All you have to do is exactly what you want. And I know… what you really want."

A chill ran up Sans's spine as he clenched and unclenched his fists in his pockets. He felt too sweaty, too heavy, too tired.

"There are so many different timelines," Gaster continued calmly.

"Timelines where you live beneath the barrier. On the surface. Cavorting with filthy humans . You even take some of them for your own, in those times. You could be happy. I know you for what you are, Sans. I know who you are. I know what you really want. And you can have it, you know. I don't care what you do with your little… experiment . You can have them when you help me, you know. You can have them. I can give you whatever you desire. Anything you could ever want."

"Fuck off !" Sans growled deeply. "Just… just stop talking!"

"Are you afraid, Sans?" Gaster's whisper was suddenly behind him, and Sans jerked away in fright, trying to reach for magic that wouldn't answer him. Maybe he had been behind him the entire time.

"You don't have to be scared. I'm here now. I'm going to fix everything. And you're going to help me."

Sans jolted awake from the nightmares, sweating and coughing. He could still hear his last words ringing in his head.

You're going to help me.

Whether you like it or not.

It wasn't real. It wasn't real . He was repressed and it was manifesting in his psyche in the form of the person gone the most. That was all. The living room was dark, but not nearly as dark as that void he had just been in. It was just a dream after all. It wasn't real. It wasn't happening . Sans took a deep breath, trying to resist the urge to shift Frisk away and dig in his jacket pockets. Except that he had removed his jacket a while ago, leaving him with just his shorts and his old tutleneck. Frisk murmured quietly in their sleep atop him. They were curled up with their head on his chest, clinging desperately to his shirt in their sleep. They looked so small. So weak. So frail. Sans held them tenderly as if they were made of glass, and a single touch could shatter them. Even with that… dream bouncing around his thoughts, he was still more worried about them. Their brows were furrowed deeply and they whimpered something that he couldn't understand. Sans simply rubbed circles on their back and kissed the top of their head, holding them close. Frisk stilled after a few moments, their chest rising and falling slowly in their sleep.

Harlot.

His bones felt too hot, his marrow was boiling he was so seething . Gaster was not going to get away with calling his little babybones that. Just a dream, not real, just his imagination messing with him. It wasn't the first time that he had dreams of similar caliber. It got easier to ignore with time, but this one seemed to be stuck in his head. Frisk twitched and jerked fretfully, trembling a little.

"… Hey," Sans got his phalanges tangled in their hair, trying to sit up a little on the couch. "Hey now. Babybones?"

"… Sans?" Frisk muttered softly.

"I'm here, baby," he hushed them gently. At least they weren't screaming this time, that was a plus. "Shh. It's okay, babybones."

"I… I had a bad dream…" they murmured, eyes opening a little as they darted back and forth for something in the dark. They reached out in the shadows for him, and he took one of their hands in his.

"It's okay, babybones…" Sans petted the back of their head, stroking them softly. "It's okay. It's just a dream. Okay? Dreams aren't real . They can't hurt you if you don't let them. Okay?"

"Okay, Sans…" Frisk yawned quietly, closing their eyes and snuggling with their face against his chest. "It's okay, Sans. You don't have to be scared either. I'll make the bad man go away."

"… Bad man," Sans whispered nervously.

"The scary man with the white coat," Frisk tiredly explained. "I had a dream about him again. Chara doesn't like him at all."

He was there .

He was there, he was coming back, he was real and he was in their head-

Sans had to repress a sudden shudder, holding Frisk a little bit closer. There was no coincidence there. Was Frisk having the same kind of dreams that he was? He had rarely ever just wanted to be crazy. Was Gaster trying to influence them through their dreams? Could he even do that? There was no way, he was gone, it was over . What could he possibly have to gain by that? Why couldn't that bastard just stay dead and out of his life? Why was he doing this? Why couldn't he just leave him alone?

"It's not real," Sans insisted darkly, pulling Frisk a little closer. "Just ignore it. Okay? It's not real . It's not real."

"O-okay…" Frisk nodded quietly. "Okay, Sans."

They fell silent after a while, but it was clear that they weren't going back to sleep. Sans didn't feel like he could sleep again, either. He wasn't even safe in his sleep anymore. The nightmares about the resets, the dust of his friends, that damned weed, and now Gaster? How could it possibly get any worse?

"… I love you, Sans."

"I love you too, babybones," Sans replied softly, closing his weary eye sockets and giving them a light hug. They responded by crawling a little until they were laying on top of him with his chest as a pillow. They smiled up at him and gave him a celibate little kiss on the cheek, hiding their face in his turtleneck.

So Gaster wanted him to keep them from resetting. If it wasn't all some wild coincidence. Which it definitely was, he wasn't real, but if that old erasure could communicate at all… Why? What could he gain from that? What was the point? He didn't want Frisk to reset anyway. He could have done just that without Gaster's intervention.

Why bother telling him to do something he wanted to do anyway?

Was he just losing his mind?

Why was this happening? What was the point?

What was the point in anything?

"… Sans?" Frisk prodded him gently. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, of course," he nodded and swallowed dryly.

I can give you whatever you desire.

Sans took a slow, shaking breath, squeezing his eye sockets shut. He wasn't wrong. He wasn't an abomination. He wasn't like him . He didn't even want to think his name. He just wanted to have a

life. He wanted to keep things as they were. There was change coming, and it scared the living daylights out of him. He wanted to keep them close. He just wanted to let them know that they were loved. That he would do literally anything for them. He wanted them to be safe. To be happy.

And he was ruining their happiness just by being around them. Didn't they understand that? Didn't they understand just how awful he was? The thought of other timelines bouncing around his head weren't helping. If things had turned out differently. If he had been a different Sans.

If he had been a better person.

He needed to be a better person. For Papyrus. For Frisk. They needed him. He needed to be stronger. He couldn't afford to be weak. If he was weak, if he caved in for even a moment, it was over. He had to stay on his toes. He had to defend against himself, how was he supposed to take care of them when he was the worst possible thing for them? He felt like he was fighting an unwanted war on every front.

He was so full of regret. How things could have turned out differently if he were just a little bit better. He should be better. They needed him to be better . He was so overflowing with filth, he could feel his sins crawling all over his back.

"… It's okay," Frisk whispered softly, just loud enough for him to hear. "Don't cry, Sansy. I'm here."

Sans wiped his eye sockets with his sleeve, giving Frisk a light hug.

When had he started crying? He was supposed to be the adult here. And they were the one comforting him, dear god he was pathetic . They were so much stronger than him. They were so much better than him. He would give anything for them to be safe. For them to be happy.

And they might be taken away from him.

Maybe… maybe that was for the best. They would be among other humans. Safe from monsters like him.

But he didn't want them to be taken away. He wanted to hold them close, to protect them, to see them smile again. He wanted to tell them so much. But what was he even supposed to say? Instead, he wound up doing what he usually did. He said nothing at all.

"… You're a good kid, Frisk," Sans said quietly, pulling the blankets up a little to cover their shoulders. "You're… you're a good person. Everything is gonna work out. You're… you're gonna make a great ambassador. I'm… I know I haven't been the best caretaker. I know that-that I fuck up. A lot . But I-I… I want you to know. I'm… I'm so proud of you, babybones."

Frisk sniffled suddenly, wiping their eyes with their palms and beaming toothily at him before giving him another gentle kiss on the cheek.

"It's okay to make mistakes," Frisk insisted gently, taking his hand in theirs. "What's important is learning from your mess ups so that it doesn't happen again. You're… you're a good daddy. I love you so much, Sans."

Sans wanted to talk. He wanted to speak, to tell them about the roiling storm in his chest.

He couldn't find the words through his hot tears. He could only hold them carefully, feeling like his soul was going to burst from the sheer overwhelming love that he felt for them. They were such a good person. How could they possibly see any good in him at all? How could they possibly forgive him for all of the things that he had said, all the haunting things that he had done?

He didn't understand.

But he wanted to.

He wanted to understand more than anything in the world.

And for just a few moments, he wasn't worried about his dreams of the reality deprived, depraved scientist. He wasn't worried about the nightmares of the weed, or repeating everything over and over again. He wasn't worried at all. He could just feel their soul beating warmly against him, so full of mercy that it was just incredible. He had his friends. He had his brother. He had his little babybones. He had a future ahead of him.

For once, just a little bit, he could allow himself to be truly happy.

But more than that, he wanted Frisk to be happy, too.

He would do whatever it took. He would give them the entire world on a platter if they asked for it. They had given him the sun, and the moon, and all the stars in the night sky.

The very least he could do to return such kindness was to try.

He would try.

Maybe he wasn't a good person. Definitely not as good as Papyrus. Not as good as Frisk. But for them…

He would try .