Sins Of The Father
Chapter 42: Sins Of The Father
Sans awoke to the scent of coffee and bacon.
He didn't realize when he had fallen asleep sitting up, reclining on the sofa with Frisk in his lap. Their head was buried in his jacket as their chest rose and fell softly in their sleep, and Sans sighed quietly, his mind in turmoil.
What in the actual hell had happened last night?
It was… almost blurry. Like it hadn't really happened. But he could still feel that incredible spark in his chest, that warm little glow he got whenever they were near. He closed his eye sockets and sighed again, leaning back and giving up on the idea of getting up almost immediately. For just a little while, maybe he could feel this instead. He was so… content . Maybe it was shallow and unjustified, but still. He just wanted to stay like this for a while, listening to the early morning bird chirps outside, the fresh scent of oncoming rain, the-
- dust motes dancing through the air as he stood in the golden hall, his hands clenched in his pockets. He was so furious, fuming silently as they stalked toward him again. He could see the empty gaze in their eyes, so blank, and that godawful little smile on their lips as they approached him. Like they were trying to tell him something without words, and he could not understand. He killed them on the spot before the world reset, and he found himself standing there against one of the pillars again, memories that didn't belong crashing into each other. They were screaming at him, their face contorted in pain and fear as they yelled something that didn't make it through to him. He didn't care anymore. He could still see his brother's dust on their hands. He only cast out his arm in rage, blaster humming in the air behind him-
"-ns.! Sans, for the love of god, snap out of it!"
Sans blinked awake, the dream still tainting his thoughts as Papyrus shook him hard by the shoulder. It was a dream, wasn't it? Sans groggily stared back at him, uncertain. Blake was holding him back by the hood, looking absolutely terrified as he released him, pulling at his ear ring uneasily.
"… Paps?" Sans's words slurred as he tried to shake his head. He felt so heavy, so tired.
"Sans?" Papyrus placed a hand to his forehead, letting out a breath. "Put… put it away."
"What is that?" Blake whispered, wide eyed. Sans couldn't ever remember him speaking so quietly. "What the fuck is that thing?!"
And then Sans realized that Frisk was no longer sleeping on his lap.
They were pressed against the living room wall, sitting with their arms out in front of them as the floating behemoth stared humming at them. Sans let out a heavy breath, realizing what he had almost just done.
"Shit," he swore angrily, the fury still coursing through his bones.
"Shit, shit . Calm… I'm. I'm calm . I'm okay. You okay? Everybody? F-Frisk? Frisky-bits?"
Frisk looked back and forth between the floating blaster and Sans, eyes wide as saucers as they whimpered. They were hyperventilating and Sans felt as though he had just been kicked in the stomach. God, what had he almost done ?
"It's… it's okay," Sans tried to say as soothingly as possible. "It's fine. Don't… don't worry, Friskybits," Sans tried to approach them gently as if they were a spooked animal. "Don't… don't freak out. Okay, baby? She-she won't hurt you. Will you, girl?" Sans reached out and scratched the top of the blaster, and it leaned into his touch with a little hum of energy flowing through it. "See? She's-she's a good girl.
Huh, girl? Who's a good girl, huh? She won't hurt ya, babybones. See? You…" he ventured carefully. "- you wanna pet 'er?"
Frisk looked absolutely petrified, but they ever so slowly, carefully took a deep breath, reaching a trembling hand out to the blaster and touching it with just their fingertips. Frisk really was the bravest kid that he'd ever met. The blaster hummed a little more loudly and Frisk flinched, but continued to shakily pet the skeletal blaster softly, tentatively.
"See?" Sans cautiously reached out for Frisk, placing a hand on their shoulder. "It's… it's okay, babybones. She's not gonna hurt ya. She's a good girl. You're a good girl, aren'tcha?" Sans petted the blaster softly, and it hummed again, almost like it was purring. At least Frisk had stopped hyperventilating. Although the longer that they touched the blaster the more swiftly it became apparent that this was because they were holding their breath.
"Alright," Sans said slowly, calmly as he flicked his hand outward. "I think that's enough play time, girl. Time for you ta go home."
The blaster turned toward him and gave a little whine, but he shook his head.
"You heard me. Not the time or place, girl. You should take a nap for
a little bit."
Sans flicked his fingers upwards and the blaster disintegrated into nothingness, leaving Frisk standing with their hand still in midair, looking back and forth between him and the place where the blaster had been.
"… Somebody wanna tell me what the fuck just happened?" Blake stood with his mouth slightly agape.
"That's just Sans's, um. Pet," Papyrus shifted awkwardly, looking extremely uncomfortable for a moment. "He usually doesn't like showing it to people."
"For good reason," Sans grumbled, but was interrupted when Frisk suddenly barreled into him hugged him around the middle. He sighed and hugged them back, petting their shaking head. "Shh. C'mon. Hey, now, baby. It's okay. She's a good girl. You're such a brave kid, babybones."
Sans stayed silent as he petted their head, humming lowly to them.
"… Okay," Blake ran a hand over his head, readjusting his ridiculous looking pajamas. "So, uh. That was weird. We just gonna… pretend that didn't happen?"
"I'd appreciate it," Sans nodded to him once, stroking Frisk's hair softly.
"You got it then," he shrugged awkwardly, glancing back toward the kitchen. "I'm just gonna try to make believe that wasn't utterly terrifying. Um. Paps and I made everyone some french toast. If-if you want any."
"Hey, free food sounds good to me," Sans grinned down at the child clinging to him fearfully. "Hey. Babybones. You want some french toast? We can smother 'em in syrup if you want."
Frisk glanced back and forth between them before swallowing quickly, their face pale.
"Alright. C'mon, kiddo," Sans tried to sound as upbeat as he could, despite the turmoil roiling in his chest. They were so scared. So afraid. Not just of the blaster. Of him . He didn't want them to be afraid of them. They shouldn't have to be scared. Not of him. It hurt, so badly. They shouldn't be afraid of him. He just wanted to see them smile again. He wanted them to be happy. Hyperventilating against the wall as they tried to back into it sobbing was not the way he wanted them to start their morning. He was going to brush all of this under the rug and hold them close, let them know that he loved them. But they just looked so… terrified .
"… Hey," Sans said quietly as Papyrus led Blake into the kitchen.
"Hey there, babybones. S-sorry about that. I didn't mean ta scare ya. Promise. You okay?"
Frisk nodded quietly, holding on to him tightly.
"It's okay. I'm sorry, kiddo. It's alright. You're a good kid," he reassured them quietly, kissing their forehead. "It's okay. I promise. C'mon. Let's go grab some breakfast. And after that we can go check out where we're movin' to. That sound good to you, babybones?"
Frisk nodded again and gave him a little half smile, and Sans relaxed a little bit. He really didn't want them to be afraid. He didn't want them to be afraid of him, especially. He wanted them to be able to wake up in the morning and just be happy. Was that really so much to ask for? He just wanted his kid to be happy.
Sans couldn't help but yawn as Papyrus gently placed a cup of coffee in his hands.
"… Thanks, Paps," Sans said quietly.
"Don't worry about it, brother," Papyrus said with a soft smile. "Just… just stay calm. Alright, Sans?"
"Everything is fine," he tried to ensure him, feeling like scum for lying through his teeth. "Everything is going to be just fine ."
Frisk pulled at his free hand, looking at him with a stare that he couldn't quite identify.
"… Hey," Sans rolled his shoulders, glancing back and forth between Papyrus and Blake. "King and queen aren't up yet, right? Any word back from Undyne and Al?"
"Still at the hotel," Papyrus nodded, checking his phone. "They're spending an awful lot of time there. Undyne tells me that they have some kind of delivery service right to their rooms, just like MTT resort."
"What's that?" Blake blinked, taking a sip of his own coffee.
"Mettaton's private hotel," Papyrus informed him. "It's very nice."
"Mettaton? Robot guy has his own hotel?" Blake blinked again, glancing at him as if he was unsure if it was a joke or not.
"He has a very lucrative business," he nodded. Sans snapped his fingers together across the mug, making clicking noises. He was suddenly reminded of the noise that Gaster made when he ticked his fingers together and rapidly stopped, shuddering.
"Hey, uh…" Sans started awkwardly, looking down to Frisk. They'd been sleeping in the same clothes, just as almost everyone else, but it still bothered him. "The kiddo really doesn't have much to wear. You mind if me and the kid go shopping for a bit while you guys check out the new place, and we'll catch up later?"
"Not a problem at all!" Papyrus said cheerfully before giving Sans a stern look. "No clothes with bone puns on them."
"Gotcha," he grinned back.
"And that means no buying plain clothes and then writing bone puns on them like you did yours," he continued with a frown.
"Alright, alright," Sans shook his head. "Normal striped clothes. Bleh. Boring. Hey, kiddo. You wanna go shopping today?"
Frisk looked at Papyrus nervously, like they were trying to discern his opinion on it before quietly nodding and smiling up at him.
"Guess that settles it," Sans shrugged and finished off his coffee, feeling a little more awake and slightly less guilty that he had nearly vaporized his own kid. "We're gonna buy that whole place, just you wait and see."
"Please don't," Papyrus deadpanned. "There's no way that you could carry all of those clothes back."
"You're right," Sans winked. "I'm super lazy. That's why Frisk is carryin' everything back."
"Sans," he put his hand on his hip.
"Alright, yeesh," Sans held up his mug defensively before dropping it carefully into the sink. "Lemme just grab my jacket. You ready for the shopping spree of the century, buddy?"
Frisk just squeezed his hand and smiled at him widely. He could live with that. He just wanted to see them smile again. That was all that he wanted. He just wanted to see them safe. To see them happy. Like they deserved. They deserved so much better than him. So much more than he could give them. They deserved all of the love in the world. He would do literally anything for them, and…
That thought scared him, just a little bit.
Literally anything.
The department store didn't take long to find, all things considered. Sans sat quietly on a bench outside the changing rooms, chin in his hands as he waited with the stack of white boxes beside him. Frisk certainly was taking their time changing clothes, but Sans really didn't mind. It gave him time to think. The moment that he and Frisk had approached the wooden stalls the other humans cleared out, leaving them alone. That was fine by Sans. People were probably still just getting used to monsters. He could pretend that it didn't really sting the way that they scurried away from him, shooting him bizarre and terrified looks.
Maybe humans would never get used to monsters. It was the fact that they all seemed so horrified of him that hurt. But that only reinforced his thoughts. Frisk really was the bravest kid that he had ever met.
"… Sans?" Frisk asked as they poked their head out of the stall.
"What's up, kiddo?" he was shaken out of his reverie, leaning back on the bench and trying to clear his troubled head.
"Um. I'm having trouble with a zipper…" Frisk shifted awkwardly.
"Need some help, buddy?"
"No, no!" Frisk said quickly. "You can't see yet."
"Well, then how am I supposed to help?"
Frisk looked at him worriedly, dancing from foot to foot.
Sans sighed and shook his head, grinning at them.
"Tell ya what. I'll help ya with the zipper, then I can act real surprised when you show me. Sound good?"
Frisk frowned but finally gave in, turning around for him to help with the zipper on the back of the blue dress. Their arms were bared and he could easily see the cuts and barely healed needle marks, and it was.. difficult not to look. He fumbled with the cold metal zipper for a moment before zipping it up, trying his absolute best not to look at the mark on their back. He didn't need to go getting angry now. He needed to stay calm. He knew what happened if he didn't manage to stay calm, but it was difficult.
"… Thank you," Frisk whispered after a moment.
"Fuhgeddaboudit," Sans gently nudged them toward the dressing room. "Now come on, babybones. I've still gotta pretend that I haven't seen it yet."
Frisk smiled warmly at him and bounced into the dressing room, closing the door behind them. Then they carefully opened it again and returned with their hands on their hips, looking at him proudly.
"How about this one?" Frisk gave a little twirl.
"Blue is a good color on you," Sans dropped back onto the wooden bench with a grin. "But, uh. We've gotta get you stuff with stripes, too."
"Why all the stripes?" Frisk put their fists on their hips, frowning.
"I don't know exactly how it is with human kids," Sans explained slowly. "But for monsters, stripes are an indication that you're a kid and not to be messed with. It's just a safety measure, babybones."
"I can't get the dress…?" Frisk looked at him, crestfallen.
Sans started to talk before closing his mouth and sighing heavily.
"Yeah. Of course you can get it, babybones," Sans felt a little lighter at their elated smile. "Why all the dresses though? I thought you wanted overalls? Or jumpers?"
"I like dresses," Frisk fluffed the hem of their blue dress. "But I also like something to play in. I want to be able to wear what I feel like I'm comfortable in."
"… You're a cool kid, Frisk," Sans petted them on the head, and they beamed at him. "What else didja find, huh kiddo?"
"I found a shirt with kitties on it!" Frisk said excitedly, darting back into the dressing room. "Just a second, I'll get it!"
Sans leaned back and closed his eye sockets for a moment, letting out a quiet sigh. He was… content, like this. He could make them happy for a while. They were normally so quiet, so silent, hearing them speak again was a huge relief. It meant that they were opening up a little again. Maybe, eventually, he could get a little more information out of them. It felt like grease on his soul, thinking of ways that he could pry the words out of them. He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted to know who had left those marks on his little babybones. All he needed was a name, and he could manage the rest on his own.
"… Fuck off, Gaster," Sans flipped the bird without opening his eye sockets. He felt… something
shift behind him, and he swiveled in his seat suddenly, but there was nothing behind him. It made him feel naseuous. He let out a quiet sigh and pinched the bridge of his nostril bone in annoyance. He could tell that he was still there, he could still feel that unwavering gaze, that unending smirk and he hated it. Couldn't he have five minutes of peace and quiet? What did that old creeper even want, anyway? He didn't speak to him this time, but he knew that he had been there. He could just feel it.
Or maybe Gaster hadn't been there at all, and he was slowly losing his mind.
Paranoid. You're getting completely paranoid.
Sans took a slow, heavy breath, wiping his forehead with his arm. He needed to keep it together. He didn't need to go freaking out now. Everything was fine. Everything was going to be fine.
"Sans?"
"What's up, buddy?" Sans forced a small grin as he saw them emerge from the dressing room. They wore a pair of jeans and a too large sweater with a picture of a glittering kitten on the front, with the phrase 'you are meow-velous!' on the front. The sleeves fell down over their hands and it stretched down almost to their knees, and Sans felt like his soul was melting just a little bit.
… That is the most adorable thing I've ever seen.
"Is… is it okay?" Frisk asked nervously, trying to put their hands together but only winding up sticking the sleeves of the sweater together, bunching it up a bit. "Can I have this one? Please?"
"I'd be upset if you didn't," Sans grinned at them as they gave a little whoop of joy. "Might have to grow into that one a little bit."
"Thank you Sans, thank you thank you," Frisk hugged him, long sleeves of the sweater flopping slightly.
"Hey, don't worry, kiddo," Sans petted their head with a soft smile. "We'll get you whatever you want, babybones. Don't even worry 'bout it. You almost done?"
"I still have-have some more to try on…" Frisk's cheeks heated a little bit as they smiled at him. "Can I show you some more? I hope you like it."
"It's not the clothes, it's the person wearin' em, ya goof," Sans ruffled their hair with a grin, and Frisk beamed toothily at him. "I'm sure that you'll look great in anything you pick, babybones. What else have you even got in there, anyway?"
"It's a surprise," Frisk leaned up and kissed him on the cheek with a little smile. "Stay right here, Sansy. I'll go get them."
Sans was almost dragged away as they gripped his hand, bouncing up and down cheerfully. He was… happy. He wanted to see them smile, and he would give anything in the world for that. He grinned as he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, sighing quietly. For now, he could just relax. He could just allow himself to be content for a while. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting patiently. They could take all the time that they wanted, he wasn't in any rush. He wasn't looking forward to going back to the front of the store and purchasing all of the clothes as he would doubtlessly get more dirty looks from the cashier, but he didn't really mind. He wasn't here for him. He was here for them. He wanted to give them as much as he possibly could. He would do whatever it took to make them happy.
Frisk opened the dressing room door, standing before him with a smile.
They didn't wear much else aside from that.
"Oh my fucking god!" Sans pushed them back inside, slamming the door shut as a heavy dusting of blue heated his cheeks. "Oh god you cannot wear that, put that back right now where did you even get that?!"
Frisk didn't respond, and his soul was pounding in his chest so loudly that he could hear it pulse in his head. His eyes darted around nervously, ensuring that they were indeed alone. He did not need to be answering the questions that would inevitably arise, and oh god he'd almost forgotten about the scars, he needed to stay calm . His breathing was heavy and he felt too sweaty all of a sudden, his head feeling as though it were filled with water. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe .
What is wrong with me. Why can't I think. What in the actual fuck is wrong with me.
"… Frisk?" Sans coughed awkwardly into his hand, knocking on the door after a while of silence. "B-babybones?"
They weren't answering. They weren't speaking or responding at all.
And that's when it hit Sans like a sack of bricks. They loved him. They trusted him. They trusted him more than anyone else. And he had just pushed them in and locked them in a box.
… Shit.
Sans didn't bother trying to get the door, simply taking a shortcut directly into the dressing room. Frisk crumpled in the corner, hyperventilating and shaking badly with their legs drawn up to their chest, eyes darting back and forth as they silently sobbed. Sans tried, he really tried not to look at their… exposure. He felt dirty, god he was so filled with sin that it made him disgusted with himself. His jacket was off and wrapped around their shoulders in a moment.
Frisk was sobbing wetly, wordlessly and he dropped to his knees in front of them and carefully pulled them into a light hug.
Shit shit shit shit.
"I'm sorry," he sputtered as he petted their hair. "Fuck, I-I'm sorry babybones, I-I didn't mean ta… I mean, what I'm tryin' to say is, uh. I-I… fuck," Sans ran a hand over their head, stroking their hair as they clung to him. "Don't-don't cry, shh, c'mon. Sansy is here, I'm sorry, fuck me I'm so sorry babybones, I-I didn't mean ta lock you in like that. Fuck," he gave them a gentle squeeze. They were like glass, he was so fearful, so terrified of accidentally hurting them.
The… little bit that they were wearing wasn't improving matters any. He just rocked them back and forth, hushing them.
"C'mon," Sans said after a long while. "Come on. Hey. Hey now," he murmured as they buried their face in his chest. "Don't cry, babybones. I didn't mean to do that. Shh. It's okay. I'm sorry. Goddammit I'm so sorry, kiddo."
"What did I do…?" Frisk mumbled worredly, wiping their eyes with their bare arm. He could see the cuts, the needle marks, he didn't need to think about that damned branding but he couldn't help it. They were literally laid bare before him, and oh god don't take your hands off their shoulders don't look don't look don't look.
"You-you can't, uh…" Sans shifted uncomfortably, Gaster's words ringing in his head. God he was disgusting, he just needed to stay calm. Everywhere he looked he saw those awful marks. He had to fight the sudden, powerful impulse to start drinking. For just a little while, he'd almost forgotten the living hell his little one had gone through. And still they wore their marks openly, almost managing to fight through their fear before he'd fucked it all up. "Oh, shit. Where… where did you even get… that ?" he couldn't help but stutter. "Oh god, you cannot…. you can't wear that, kiddo, just… holy shit, no ."
"You don't like it…?" Frisk's voice came out in barely above a whisper as they trembled, hugging him. "I've worn less, I don't- I, I mean-"
Oh. Right.
They'd been through hell and back, Sans didn't know how he kept managing to repress that.
"Oh Christ. Let's just, uh…" Sans was sweating heavily by this point, embarrasedly looking away. "Let's just get you some-some different clothes to wear. Okay, babybones? Something with, uh, I dunno. More… substance ? Please?"
"Can't I keep it…?" Frisk pleaded quietly as they stretched the striped clothing with one hand. "I like it. You.. you said I could get anything I wanted. It's comfy."
Put your foot down. For the love of god don't fuck this up, just say no without making them cry, oh fuck what do I do what do I do…
What would Papyrus do? Why are they doing this to me? I'm fucked up. This is fucked, straight fucked. Be like Paps.
He wouldn't be in this situation at all. Because he's better than you. He would know what to do. He always knows what to do. He would do the right thing. Do the right thing. It's not that hard. All you have to do is try a little. Just try. Do the right thing. Even if they're upset just put your foot down.
"Please, Sans…" Frisk pouted up at him, still clinging to his jacket. He was trembling just as badly, if not more than they were, like his bones were aching and burning all at once. "Can't I have it…?" This is fucked. This is straight fucked.
He just had to wear a smile. He had to force his way through it, put on a brave face and fight, but how was he supposed to fight against himself? He really was a sick little thing. There was no cure for what was roiling in his chest, and he wanted to pull his own wretched soul out and smash it. Why did everything he did have to be self destructive, why did he have to hate himself more than anything? But he had to put on a brave face. He had to pretend that it was fine, he didn't need them to freak out on him. He wanted to stay like this for a while, just holding on to them and listening to their soft breathing. Squirrel away from the world and shut down. But he couldn't. He had to be stronger. He was so weak, it was pathetic. His soul might as well have been made of sulfur and brimstone because he felt like he was burning, but he forced a relaxed smile anyway despite how much it hurt and petted their hair. He couldn't let them see. Couldn't let them know just how terrible that he was. So long as he could wear that mask, maybe things would be okay.
"Let's… let's just, uh. G-get you sometin'… else?" Sans began carefully as they looked up at him. "C'mon, babybones. Just… just, uh. A-anything. Anything you want. Just… something aside from, y'know… this."
"I can find something different…" Frisk finally mumbled, and he hugged them tighter.
Oh thank every god.
"G-good. Great, even." Sans felt as though his face were on fire, god he was so vile and he had to fight against the ache in his bones, had to stay focused, had to stay calm. "Sometin' else. Howhow 'bout you grab some of these new clothes and, uh, we-we'll go catch up with
Paps. That… that sound good to you?"
"Okay, Sans…" Frisk rubbed their face against his chest with a small smile. "I love you." "I love you too, babybones."
And it's slowly killing me.
The outside of Ebott city was a sight to behold.
He'd gotten far more than he'd thought they would, and he'd planned on a lot. There were plenty of striped clothes, although it had taken a while to get them to calm down, they at least agreed upon some thicker sweaters for the approaching weather. Frisk held his hand the entire way, wearing some of their new clothes with a striped blue sweater and shorts. They dropped off the multitude of boxes at the apartment (Sans had wound up carrying all but every single one of them) and it didn't take long to walk to the outskirts of Ebott city. Sans could even see the woods that not too long ago they had been camping out in. Large plots of land were already cleared, and monsters busily worked to build wooden structures that would soon be houses. They stopped before a particularly large dwelling where Blake and Asgore stood, chatting quietly amongst themselves.
"Yo," Sans waved at them as they crossed the empty street, staring at the progress. "Man, not wasting any time, huh?"
"It's so cool," Blake bounced on his feet, grinning. "Can you believe how fast monsters work? I mean, just yesterday this place was bone dry and empty."
"You get brownie points for making a skeleton pun," Sans grinned at him, causing him to blush a little and pull at his ear ring. "You guys seen Paps?"
"He's over there," Blake pointed at the skeleton of the wooden house. "Checking out the new place."
"Cool. You wanna come check it out, Frisky-bits?" Sans glanced down to Frisk, and they nodded excitedly. Sans waved goodbye to Asgore and Blake as they left, meandering across the empty street. The place was almost entirely devoid of humans, but Sans could live with that. So long as monsters had a place to stay, it was nice. Having the mayor personally vouch for them all had been… unexpected. Not unwelcome, but certainly not expected.
"Knock knock," Sans rapped on the wooden entryway where the door would eventually be. Sans saw Papyrus standing in the middle of the room, hand to his chin as he stared up at the exposed ceiling.
"What?" Papyrus asked distractedly. "Oh. Good, you're finally here. What do you think of the new place so far, Sans?"
"You're supposed ta say who's there. And. Uh. It could use more walls," he grinned at the bare studs and exposed insulation.
"Well, it's not quite finished yet," Papyrus said as if it were obvious. Which it was. "King Asgore has officially commissioned houses to be built in New New Home. With honors from a 'president', whatever that means."
"Is that what we're callin' the place?" Sans chortled quietly. "Man. We really shouldn't let the king name stuff."
"It was that, or Ebott Extra," Papyrus shrugged, leaning down and giving Frisk a quick hug. "Hello to you too, little one! Did you find lots of nice clothes to wear?"
Frisk nodded cheerfully and hugged him back around the neck, beaming toothily at him.
"Me an' the kid are gonna go watch some more of those musical movies," Sans rolled his shoulders. "Wanna slack off come with us?"
"I would if I could Sans," Papyrus frowned. "Not the slacking off thing I mean. But I'm afraid that there's simply too much to be done here. These people need help, after all, and who better to help create a better life for monsters than the Great Papyrus?"
"You're really awesome, Paps," Sans smiled kindly at him.
"Nyeh. I know. What would the world be without me?"
"Not a world worth living in," Sans said ever so quietly. Papyrus gave him a strange look before sighing, leaning down to hug him, too.
"Go on and get Frisk's wardrobe things and watch your movies," Papyrus said with a soft smile. "After I'm done helping here maybe I'll come watch some with you. Oh!" he snapped his gloved fingers, smiling widely. "That reminds me. I got something for you, Sans."
He dug in his pocket for a moment, reaching into the inner linings of his battle body before drawing out a slip of paper.
"What's this?" Sans blinked as he unfolded it, revealing an address.
"Just go there when you have the time," Papyrus answered smugly. "Just trust me. You'll love it."
"If you say so…" Sans shrugged, sticking the paper in his pocket. "So, what'cha wanna do, kiddo? You wanna head back, or check out this mystery place?"
"Mysteries!" Frisk threw up their hands excitedly.
"Mystery place it is," Sans sighed and let them take him by the hand, watching as they bounced eagerly on the balls of their feet. "C'mon, kiddo. I think I've gotten enough exercise for one day. Let's get this show on the road, I know a shortcut," he winked at them.
They fell slightly, almost half a foot in the air as Sans emerged from the dark alley with Frisk close in tow. Sans looked up at the evening sky, clouds bloated with the possibility of rain. Weather up here really was crazy. It was so bizarre how it changed at the drop of a hat. He frowned a little and looked around before he saw the neon sign hanging out in front of the building; Sans couldn't help but grin in excitement as he pressed open the door, the familiar scent of oak and charcoal and greased food filling him. Humans and monsters alike were gathered here, some even sharing tables. They almost all had drinks, and he could see a couple of familiar canine faces as they played poker against a couple of human women, laughing and joking. He felt so… home.
"Welcome," the fire elemental behind the bar held out an arm as Sans approached. "To New Grillby's."
"Man, who named this place, the king?" Sans snorted cheerfully, settling down on one of the shiny new stools as Frisk did the same. He was giddy at this point.
"I was hoping that you would stop by," Grillby leaned on the countertop, and Sans could tell that he was smiling. "Your brother seemed quite adamant about keeping it a surprise for you."
"Is that why you weren't answering my calls?" Sans cocked a skeletal eyebrow.
"I have been very busy," Grillby explained a little guiltily. "There have been some… incidents that needed to be taken care of."
"What'cha mean?" Sans blinked at him uncertainly.
"Some humans are of the belief that monsters do not belong here…" Grillby began slowly. "But do not lose faith, my friend. If you wish to see how well monsters and humans can truly coexist, you need only to look around here. I wished to create a haven for all peoples, and many of these humans are very kind and generous. This is the surprise that I wanted to save for you," Grillby continued quietly with a smile. "A peaceful place to rest and recover."
"You're… you're one of the coolest guys I've ever met, Grillbz," Sans beamed at him proudly. Frisk tugged at his sleeve for a moment, and he glanced down at them. "Ah. Guess I know what that means. Mind grabbin' a couple of drinks for us, Grillbz?"
"That's what I'm here for," he replied with a soft crackle, pulling out a cold bottle for Sans and pouring an iced fizzing soda pop for Frisk. The new seats were a lot more comfortable than the old rickety swivel ones, he had to admit. Sans drank deeply and sighed in contentment as the buzz set in. For just once, things were… okay . He just wanted to relax in the soothing atmosphere of people talking, laughing, enjoying each other's company. Grillby really was doing well for himself here, or so it seemed. He was glad for his friend. Sans was a little bit jealous, really. Grillby wasted no time at all in trying to improve relations between monsters and humans. He even saw a familiar dog monster playing cards with a dog biscuit in his mouth, smoke billowing around his head as he grinned at the human woman across from him.
"So," Grillby cleaned a glass with a bright pink rag. "I hear that young Frisk has become ambassador to monsters. I must admit, this seems
like a difficult job."
"I can do it," Frisk said quietly, hands folded in their lap as they smiled quietly up at him. "Monsters are really nice. I just want everybody to get along and be friends."
"You are going to do a fine job, I am sure," Grillby said kindly. Frisk beamed up at him toothily, and Sans felt his soul melt a little. God, they were adorable when they smiled. They were openly happy for once. He wanted to give them that as often as possible. He felt so warm, so comfortable, so happy for the first time in what felt like ages. He wasn't certain how long they sat there, swapping dumb jokes with Frisk and laughing. He could just be… safe.
And then some prick had to go and throw a brick through the window.
Someone screamed as people jumped, and Grillby just sighed.
"Oh, dear," he said as if someone had only spilled a drink. "It would appear it's that time of the day again."
"What the hell ?" Sans growled, looking through the window out at the crowd of shouting people holding up signs with slurs that Sans most certainly did not want Frisk to see.
"This happens now and then," Grillby replied calmly, hardly heard over the angry shouting outside. "Please, no one panic. I do apologize about the glass, everyone."
"Don't worry about it, Grillby," Doggo frowned, sitting up straighter in his seat. "You want me to go mess these goons up for ya?" he was quickly backed up by the rumble of Greater Dog.
"I would prefer to avoid violence," Grillby stated quietly, and although his tone was soft Doggo flinched regardless.
"R-right," he settled down in his seat a little.
"Oh, this is bullshit," Sans seethed, glaring out at the shouting people. "Gimme a sec, Grillbz. I'm gonna go bash some fuckin' heads-"
"Sans."
He froze in place at the quiet but firm voice, looking back to the bartender.
"Just leave them alone, Sans," Grillby said quietly as he picked up shards of glass carefully. "They will go away soon."
"I called the cops," the blonde woman who had been playing cards with Doggo held up her cellphone. "Let them know about the property damage. Don't even worry about it, Mister Grillby," she smiled kindly at him. "We're not going to let some chuckleheads chase off your customers."
"We're not going anywhere," a man in the booth across from a bunny monster said with determination.
"We've got your back, Grillby," another woman stood up, crossing her arms. Frisk was looking out at the crowd in absolute terror, and Sans finally seemed to realize this. Monsters and humans, standing ground together. Frisk's eyes were wide as they turned their stare to him. He took their trembling hand in his, giving them a strong but gentle squeeze, smiling at them as calmly as he could.
"Just ignore them, babybones," Sans said softly. "This isn't the time or place. You… you wanna go home?"
Frisk swallowed and nodded a few times, looking worriedly over their shoulder.
"Alright. Come on, Frisky-bits. Hey, Grillbz. You mind if we take a shortcut through the fire exit?"
"You're not a fire, but after you, my friend," Grillby held an arm out toward the door behind him. Sans nodded to him thankfully, drawing Frisk close through the door and letting it swing shut behind them. They were gone before the door even finished closing.
Sans emerged into the darkness of the living room with Frisk close to him, and he let out a sigh of relief. When had shortcuts taken so very much out of him? Frisk guided him to his now favorite spot on the couch, and he flopped down eagerly. Frisk curled up next to him, still holding his hand, sighing quietly as they just lay in the dark for a while.
"… Just ignore it, babybones," Sans rubbed the top of their head gently.
"Why do people have to be so mean, Sans?" Frisk asked quietly, looking up at him with a sad expression. "Why can't people just get along? It's not hard."
"Some people are just jerks," he shrugged. "Can't do anything about it. Humans will get used to monsters eventually, I'm sure of it."
"I'm really glad you didn't get mad…" Frisk mumbled, rubbing his arm with their cheek. "That was kinda scary."
Frisk stopped immediately, but the damage was already done. His soul ached, it cringed, it hurt.
They were so afraid of him .
"… You don't have to be scared," Sans petted their hair tenderly, his face softening a little. "You don't ever gotta be scared, babybones. Okay? I'm gonna make everything better. I'll… I'll fix everything, and we'll be right as rain."
Somehow.
Sans couldn't keep his eye sockets off of the almost smiling shadow in the corner.
They simply lay in the dark for a long while, and Sans was fine with that. He could just listen to their breathing, half asleep the entire time. It wasn't much longer before rain began to scatter across the windows, and Sans stared outside. He had been expecting snow. He was so worried sick, so afraid that at any moment he would wake up in Snowdin and he would be doing it all over again. But they hadn't reset yet. Maybe they wouldn't.
Maybe, if he could make them happy, they wouldn't have to reset ever again. It wasn't for their peace of mind, it was for his. He wanted to be sick.
He felt so foul, so manipulative.
Just like him.
He had to reevaluate some things. He loved them, of course he did.
He felt it deep in his soul, he loved them just as much as he loved Papyrus. They were his little babybones, and he would give absolutely anything to make them happy. But if he only wanted to make them happy to stop the resets… god, he couldn't imagine being that cold and heartless. He could probably do it. He could make them the happiest kid in the world, give them whatever they wanted. And maybe that would be enough. Enough to stop the resets forever.
But stopping the resets was just… so much to handle. And even if they did reset… he would still love them. He loved them to pieces, even though the resets hurt, even though he could imagine few things worse… he would still live through it all again, if it meant that he could see them smile just one more time.
They really had completely broken him.
Sans sighed quietly, brushing their hair with his phalanges.
"What are you doin' to me, kiddo," Sans murmured quietly.
"Taking a nap with you," Frisk yawned tiredly. Sans only chuckled and shook his head, petting their hair.
"It has been kind of a long day, huh," he couldn't hide a yawn of his own. "Man. I can't believe we're gonna have a place of our own already. I was just starting to get used to this place. You think Blake'll let us take his apartment with us?"
Frisk giggled lightly and shook their head.
"Yeah, I didn't think so," he shrugged, closing his weary eye sockets.
"But, hey. He'd never have to worry about picking the place up again. Y'know. Because we'd have picked it up. And taken it."
The sound of keys jangling awoke him a bit and he turned to see Blake holding the door open for Papyrus, closely followed by the king who was busy folding up a large, wet pink umbrella.
"Hey guys," Blake waved at them. "Good to see you still have no trouble getting in even though the door was locked."
"What can I say, I'm both handsome and talented."
Blake only snorted and shook his head, closing the door behind Asgore and Toriel, who came back with her arms full of grocery bags.
"Man, more food?" Sans balked at her.
"It's not for us," she explained quietly, placing it on the floor and dusting her hands. "There were so many monsters working alongside humans on New New Home that I decided to do my part and make lunches for everyone. It's been quite an endeavor."
"Wow. That's… really generous of you," Sans said in mild surprise as Frisk bounded over to Toriel to hug her around the legs. She smiled and patted Frisk on the head. "Oh, dear. I forgot, there are some things in Blake's trunk, would you mind-?"
"Yeah, I-" Blake started, only to get cut off by Sans.
"Sure thing, Tori!" Sans grinned at her. "I'll be back faster than you can blink. So long as you blink really, really slowly."
Toriel tittered and Blake frowned but handed him the keys to the car regardless. Sans couldn't take his eye sockets off of her for a long beat, and he cleared his throat quickly.
"Back in a jiffy."
"Careful out there?" Blake started to put a hand out to him but pulled back at the last second, pulling nervously at his ear ring. "There's still reporters out there, just getting through some of them was a hassle."
"I'm pretty sure I can handle a couple of boneheads," Sans shrugged with a grin.
"Can I have some chocolate milk? Please?" Frisk asked quietly, but Papyrus seemed to hear fine.
"One glass of chocolate milk, coming up! Who else would like one?" Papyrus said loudly, patting them on the head. Sans left them to it.
He closed the door behind him and checked down the hall to see it empty, and he smiled and whistled as he took a shortcut to the parking lot. He was looking forward to chatting up Toriel tonight; what with all of the craziness lately he hadn't gotten as much time with her as he'd like. She had such a great sense of humor. Sans spotted Blake's beaten up old car almost instantly, and headed toward it jovially. He didn't have a problem grabbing anything for Toriel. Besides, he could probably make some grocery puns with her. She got him on a deep kind of level. Granted, it was only on the level of dumb humor, but a woman who liked bad jokes was a good woman in his book.
Sans had grabbed the paper bags from the trunk when he was interrupted by a loud cough behind him.
"Excuse me," the man standing behind him said loudly in a rough voice like sandpaper on rocks.
"What's up, pal?" Sans greeted him with a smile, though it was apparent from the angry look on his face that he wasn't there to just chat. Sans frowned a little, feeling uneasy. The man had straight clipped bowl cut hair and a patchy goatee, and wore a loose fitting black shirt with jeans. He was holding something in his hands, but Sans could tell it wasn't a weapon. It appeared to be crumpled paper.
"Can I… help you?" Sans said cautiously. "I'm kinda busy here."
"Is this you?" he held out the paper accusingly, revealing that it was a wet newspaper clipping with a picture of Sans hugging Frisk behind Asgore, circled in red ink.
"What about it?" Sans frowned deeply at the furious expression that the man was giving him.
"I'm Frisk's father," he glowered at Sans. "I'm here for my daughter ."
"… Oh," he dropped the bags immediately, wicked grin spreading slowly over his face. "Oh. Oh, god. Oh, god yes . Please, please tell me this is really happening. Is this happening? Because I want so badly for this to be happening."
"You don't have the fucking right to have human children," the man spat angrily, and Sans was almost bouncing with glee. "I'm taking my daughter back with me, or I'm taking you to court ."
"Really," Sans stuck his hands in his pockets eagerly. "Because from what I've heard about you, I think a court is the last place you'd wanna be. Hell, I'll bring the court right to you, buddy. I'm a judge ."
"I don't care if you're the fucking queen of Siam!" he screamed, crumpling the newspaper in his fist. "You're going to give me Frisk, or I'm going to have you put in prison where freaks like you belong!"
"Buddy," Sans said dangerously, the lights in his eye sockets going out. The man took a step back when a flash of blue began twinkling in his left eye. "It's a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing. Flowers are blooming."
Sans took a step toward him, his smile growing.
"On days like these…"
"Sans?"
Sans blinked and spun on the spot, seeing Frisk descending the steps.
"Sans?" Frisk asked quietly. "Mom sent me to check on you, you're taking a really long-"
Frisk froze immediately, their face overwhelmed with absolute horror
.
"I'll have you know that Frisk is a pathological liar," the man crossed his arms tightly as Sans spun to face him. "She can't help it, she's retarded . Everything that comes out of her mouth is a lie-"
"I swear," Sans clenched his fists tightly in rage, wanting nothing more than to spear the bastard through the chest. Grab the sharpest, biggest bone that he could, stuff the sharp into his mouth and punch as hard as he could. But he couldn't do that in front of Frisk. Not in front of the kid. "I swear to fucking god if you misgender my kid one more time-"
"Your kid?!" he scoffed, sneering at him. "You freaks should have stayed where you belong . Now Frisk, git over here. We're going home."
Frisk didn't move. They didn't blink. They didn't even breathe.
They just stood there, shock overwhelming their features as they stared at the man in utmost terror.
"Frisk, I told you to get over here!" his voice rose, and Sans cut him off angrily.
"Forget this yahoo, Frisk," Sans tried to keep them calm, as they looked like they were about to start crying. "Go back inside, babybones. Go get Tori."
"I told you to get over here! " he screamed and stomped his foot, pointing at the ground in front of him. Like they were a dog. Even less than a dog. Pure, unfiltered hate flooded Sans's bones, but he couldn't release it. Couldn't let go. Couldn't kill him. Not in front of the kid. Not in front of Frisk. Maybe he could grab the piece of shit and shortcut away, dump the body off a bridge or something. "Don't make me count to three!"
"Buddy," Sans growled deeply at him, causing the man to flinch and take a step back. "You're gonna leave . And you're gonna run like your life depends on it, because if you don't…"
Several long, jagged, half formed bones began materializing in the air like ragged spears, all pointed directly at him.
"Well. You get the point ."
The man swallowed deeply, looking wide eyed between them and the floating bones. All promising sweet, justified catharsis.
"… I'm taking you to court," he stuttered, swiftly getting back into his car. Sans could wipe him off the face of the earth as soon as Frisk was safely away. "I'm taking you all to court!"
"… You okay, babybones?" Sans dispersed the bones in the air, turning to face them. They were standing lock legged and tight lipped, looking so pale, so fragile, so fearful that it made his soul ache. It took him a moment to realize why they were standing with their legs like that.
They had wet themselves.
"… We're going back in," Sans whispered fast as he hugged them gently. "Come on. Let's go get you some dry clothes, and we'll sit down and watch a movie. Everything's gonna be okay. I won't let anybody hurt you. Nobody. Not ever, ever again. Okay?"
Frisk began weeping silently, not making a single sound as they hugged him. Sans could feel the glower of the man still in his car, quiet rage boiling his marrow. He'd be back for him. But he couldn't let Frisk see. He wouldn't let them know what he was going to do to him. And god help him, it was going to be bloody .
Sans gripped them and turned to the man, ensuring that he saw that he was giving him the bird as he took Frisk up the stairs, literally carrying them by this point. It was like every ounce of strength had completely left them, leaving them incapable of doing anything but noiselessly crying and shaking. Sans pushed in the door to the apartment and set Frisk down on the couch.
"Don't worry, babybones," Sans said quietly. "We've got you some clean clothes. Just stay here for me. Okay?"
Frisk nodded and wiped their eyes, looking away in shame. That man, that bastard had done this to his kid. They had been so cheerful, so happy, and he was ruining their life. Sans started back toward the door before he was stopped by Toriel.
"Oh! There you are, Sans," she said as Papyrus poured another glass of chocolate milk. "I think you might have forgotten something, though."
"Left the groceries," he said quickly.
"How did you leave the thing you went for?" Blake stared at him from the table.
"I met some guy claiming to be Frisk's father outside," he explained quietly, still unable to quite believe it himself. It was just too good to be true. He was going to wreck him. "I told him to fuck off, but he's still out there."
"Why would you tell someone that?" Toriel frowned at him.
"I shoulda told him a lot worse for selling my kid."
The glass in Papyrus's hand suddenly exploded .
Ah. Right. Sans had never actually told Papyrus about that.
"Oh," he said calmly. "Whoopsie doopsie. I seem to have broken a glass. Let me just go get another."
"I'm callin' the cops," Blake pulled out his phone suddenly. "Oh my god, I-I… that's just fucked up, man. What in the fuck ."
"I'm getting rid of him," Sans nodded once. "Keep an eye on Frisk, I'm taking care of him. That or keeping him pinned down til the cops get- Paps?"
Papyrus was gone.
Sans followed the noises emanating from outside, bolting down the steps three at a time to see dozens upon dozens of absolutely massive bones erupting from the earth behind the car as it sped away, several puncturing the tires as it squealed off down the road.
"-AND IF YOU EVER COME BACK I'LL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF
WITH MY BARE HANDS AND FUCK THE THROAT HOLE!"
Papyrus screamed hatefully after him, hurtling bone after bone through the air. His breathing was heavy and labored when he finally stopped, the man long gone. Papyrus blushed a little in embarrassment from the open mouthed stare that Sans was giving him.
"H-holy shit," Sans gawked at him.
"Oh, I'm-I'm sorry," Papyrus rubbed his stump arm awkwardly. "I believe I lost my temper there for a moment-"
"No, no oh my god Paps, that was fucking amazing !" Sans said giddily. "I think that guy probably crapped his pants, that was awesome!"
"Yes, well," Papyrus said uncomfortably. "I… shouldn't have been so rude. Don't get me wrong, I still want to kill him in cold marrow, but I could at least not swear while doing it."
"Paps," Sans beamed up at him. "You're a freakin' hero. You know that?"
"I know, Sans," Papyrus answered sadly, shaking his head. "People keep telling me that. Come on. I think… I should have a few words with Frisk."