I Can't Fix You
Chapter 45: I Can't Fix You
Unsurprisingly, Asriel did not want to speak much.
Sans wasn't necessarily surprised. Sans sighed as he dug through his dark room, not bothering to even flick on the light switch. He knew where everything was, anyway, so it didn't really matter. Sans couldn't care less. He just wanted to find some clothes for the kid so he could have his jacket back. He really didn't feel the same without it. It was practically a part of him, he didn't like just giving it up for anyone. Certainly not him .
Sans sighed again and folded some striped shorts and a worn old black tee shirt in his arms, closing his bedroom door behind him. He had so many questions, and not enough time in the day to ask them all. He checked over his shoulder habitually before knocking once on Ppayrus's door, slipping in and glancing over to the trembling child huddled beneath his jacket. He hadn't even moved once, unless he could count shaking as moving. His green eyes were wide as he stared ahead, his lips pursed tightly as he rocked back and forth, unable to tear his eyes away from something in the corner. Sans looked over to see nothing, letting out a low breath through his teeth before slowly approaching him. Asriel jerked suddenly at his little wave, as if he hadn't even seen him enter.
"Hey kid," Sans carefully placed the clothes on the bed. "Brought you somethin'. Can you get dressed?"
"I don't know if I can," Asriel whispered with wide eyes, not stopping his rocking. "I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry."
"Kid."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated over and over again, pulling at his ears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"
"Can you just shut the fuck up for a minute? "
Sans cringed hard when the child flinched, covering his eyes to stem his flow of tears. Sans mentally kicked himself. He didn't need to go losing his temper. It was a normal reaction. He didn't have anger issues. He was just so tired. So angry. And this little… thing had caused them so much pain, so much needless suffering. The things he had done to his loved ones. To him. To Papyrus. To his little babybones. He had to fight against the urge to yell at him when it occurred to him just what an unbelievably massive prick he was being, taking out his fury on a defenseless crying child. He sighed and pinched his nostril bone, trying to keep himself under control. He had to stay calm. He needed to stay calm. The roiling storm in his chest would just have to stay pushed down. For now.
"… You need help?"
Asriel looked at him in terror, whipping his head back and forth.
"I feel weird…" Asriel mumbled, shivering. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
"Well, can't fault ya for bein' a little out of it," Sans shrugged. "You hungry?"
"I haven't been… hungry in… so long…" he muttered, closing his eyes and rocking a little. "I t-tried to e-eat some of your snacks."
Sans blinked. He hadn't seen Asriel leave the room, and he didn't seem to be in the condition to do the short walk to the kitchen. He couldn't imagine Papyrus keeping food in his room, and he looked like he had never even left the spot on the race car bed. Sans didn't keep much in his jacket, aside from
Oh shit, he ate the dog biscuits.
"… So," Sans tried to say as conversationally as he could. "How-how many, uh… snacks did you, uh, eat?"
Asriel held up three fingers. Sans wanted to facepalm as hard as he could, but he resisted the urge and only sighed quietly.
"Can P-Papyrus c-come back…?" Asriel pleaded quietly, wringing his hands together as he shook. "P-please? I n-need him. I need PPapyrus…"
"Paps is comin' back," Sans said lowly. "Just, uh. Hang tight."
Asriel held onto the jacket like it was a life raft in the middle of the ocean.
Paps is gonna fucking kill me.
Sans quietly walked back down the stairs, wishing that he had his jacket back already. He found Papyrus and Frisk sitting silently at the kitchen table. Frisk had already drank most of their hot chocolate, but Papyrus just kept turning his mug in little circles.
"… How you guys holdin' up?" Sans asked in a murmur, but they seemed to hear him well enough. Papyrus only sighed and rubbed the side of his head, running little circles on his temple.
"I'm kind of in the middle of having a freakout," Papyrus said calmly.
"You look alright to me," Sans said uncomfortably.
"I'm doing my best to contain it," Papyrus said as he took a sip of his cocoa. "There will be plenty of time for a total nervous meltdown later, we've kind of got a busy schedule today."
"Yeah. No kiddin' Good time to just stay calm," Sans said without feeling the slightest bit calm at all. "We just have a kid back from the freakin' dead is all. Plus that fun little part where Frisk literally ripped off a chunk of their soul, I'm sure that won't have any lasting consequences to worry about. Oh, and a demented immortal scientist hellbent on ruining all of our lives. So, yeah. No need to worry."
"There's no need to be snide, Sans…" he frowned at him. Sans closed his weary eye sockets and sighed, pinching his nostril bone.
"R-right. You're right. Sorry, bro…" Sans let out an uneasy breath. "I'm just… containing my own - it's not a big deal," he shrugged a moment later. "We're gonna get all of this figured out. Somehow. Goddamn it's been… a hell of a day."
"Yes, that certainly is one way to put it," Papyrus nodded once.
And then the screaming started again.
Papyrus sighed quietly and stood, gently petting the worried looking Frisk on the head a couple of times. They tilted and tried to lean into his touch. He gave Sans a very awkward, strange look that made him supremely uneasy before shaking his head.
"I'll be back in a bit," Papyrus said quietly, closing his eye sockets for just a few moments before striding off in an even pace. Sans watched him go for a couple of seconds before he started to go after him to ensure that the revived prince wasn't luring him into a trap or something, but he was stopped by Frisk grabbing at his sleeve.
"… What's up, buddy?" Sans asked, his expression softening a little. "You… you can't tell him," Frisk looked away nervously. "A-about… um. C-Chara. Please, Sans. He… can't know."
"Why not?"
"He-he just…" Frisk tucked their hands into their sleeves. For just a bare second, they looked… angry. He did not like seeing that look on Frisk's face. "P-please. It's… it's for the best."
Sans wanted to pry for questions. He had so, so many questions. Eventually however he gave a heavy sigh and shook his head, patting their hair softly.
"… Alright, kiddo," he made a zipping motion over his teeth. "My lips are sealed. Or, uh. Lack thereof."
"Thank you," Frisk mumbled and buried their head in his chest, and he hugged them back. They were shaking as if from cold and he rubbed their shoulders, simply staying there and hugging them for a bit. Sans eventually let them go a while after the horrid screaming had died down again, and he paced around the living room with his cellphone pressed tightly to the side of his head. It was picked up after the first ring and a half, and he was surprised that he had even gotten hold of him at all.
"Hello?"
"Blake," Sans said as calmly as he could. "I need a favor."
"Wait, how did you get my number?" his voice sounded tinny through the receiver.
"I played with your phone while you were asleep," Sans admitted. "Check your contacts."
It was silent for a moment before he heard a stifled snickering.
"Oh my god. 'Big Boner', are you friggin' kidding me?"
"We've kinda got a situation here," Sans said a little impatiently. The giggling stopped immediately as Sans heard something being shuffled.
"Just tell me what you need, and I've got you covered."
"Oh. That… that was easy."
"Dude, what did you expect?" Blake snorted. "You're my friend, man. Just tell me what's up."
"It's… kind of a long story. You know the big entrance to the Underground, right?"
"You're at Mount Ebott?" the surprise was plain in his voice.
"Yeah. We'll explain on the way back, I promise."
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," Blake vowed firmly. "I've got your back, pal."
"… You're a good friend, Blake."
"Heh. I hear that now and then."
Sans stood in silence for almost half a minute.
"You, uh… gonna hang up now?"
"Sorry, sorry!" Blake stuttered, the phone clicking in his hand. Sans only sighed and shook his head, poking back into the kitchen and causing Frisk to jump a little.
"You… you sure you're okay, babybones?" Sans asked softly, and Frisk swallowed and nodded. They looked… paler than usual, certainly. They looked too thin. Too frail, too upset.
And today had started out so nice, too.
That was all that he wanted.
He just wanted one nice, normal day.
Maybe someday he would get that.
Hadn't there been days that were normal before? Even with all the resets, he knew what was coming. He could prepare accordingly. It was almost normal, in a way.
… This is it. I'm actually at a point in my life where I miss the resets.
What in the actual fuck is wrong with me.
"Come on, kiddo," Sans said quietly as they hugged him again. "I think it's high time that we go home for the day."
Sans was glad to have his jacket back, at least.
They stood in the rain, the gentle drizzle falling around them as they stood beneath one of the thick trunked trees surrounding the mountainside. The monsters that had emerged from the
Underground had carved an actual path winding down the mountain from the immense amount of traffic, and Sans could see several road signs and signals that humans must have put up as warnings about the area. He frowned at one of them, hands clenching in his pockets.
Danger - Monster Traffic.
Yeah. Like monsters were the scariest thing out there. He could definitely think of quite a few things worse than monsters. He found it funny how humans were so wary. He shrugged eventually, noting the bright headlights that swerved at an alarming speed through the rain toward their direction at the base of the mountain. Humans would learn that monsters weren't to be feared. Eventually. Frisk's grip tightened in his hand a little. They really were incredibly good at sensing when something was bothering him. Did he allow it to show on his face? He didn't think so. He hoped not, anyway. But Frisk seemed to always know regardless. He really was just an open book to them. He couldn't think of a single other person who could pick up on his cues as swiftly as they did. He steeled himself mentally, clearing his face of all expression. He didn't want that to be the case. He had to stay on his guard.
Even if that meant he had to do it at all times.
Asriel was still crying silently in Papyrus's arm, clinging weakly to him around the neck and mumbling what sounded like nonsense as they descended the mountain, but he picked up several words that sounded somewhat like 'hurts' and 'still see it'. Sans gave a short wave to Blake as he bolted up the muddy path, panting heavily and out of breath.
"You - guys - okay?" he wheezed, clasping his chest. "Oh god. Oh god Rachel's right, I really do need to work out more."
"You know you didn't have to run the whole way, right?" Sans asked him as they continued downward, Frisk clinging tightly to his hand.
"Uh…" Blake stared at the loosely dressed child in Papyrus's arm. "I… can't help but notice," he said, wiping rain out of his eyes. "But there seems to be… one more of you than there used to be…?" "Oh," Papyrus explained calmly. "This is my friend. I brought him back from the dead."
"Oh," Blake said simply, blinking. "… Wait, I'm sorry, what ?"
"Well, it wasn't me, technically," he shrugged, causing Asriel to slip a little as he readjusted him to better hold on. "It was my dad. Turns out he's a god of some kind, I guess."
"Do you just have a track record with gods or something?" Blake balked at him. "I… an actual god? There are gods ? I mean… h-holy shit, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that humans have souls, now we have gods to deal with?"
"Try not to think about it," Sans advised him as they approached the car, which was sitting idle in the rain. "That's pretty much the only way to get through the day. I mean, that and alcohol."
"… Fair enough," Blake shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Hey, uh. You," he stared at Asriel as if he had almost forgotten that he was there. "You look… kinda familiar. Have we met?" Asriel looked too terrified to even speak.
"This is Asriel…" Papyrus said quietly. "He used to be a flower."
"Oh, cool, I… Wait," Blake stared at him awkwardly. "You… that can't be-"
"Flowey, yes," the skeleton nodded once.
"Not him…" Asriel mumbled, beginning to cry again. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Not him. P-please. Not him, not him, not him… !"
"Shh, shh, it's-it's okay…" Papyrus tried to hold him with both arms before he realized what he was doing. His expression… darkened, for just a bare moment, but it was gone when Sans tried to get a better look. "It's going to be alright, little one. It's okay."
"I have… so many questions," Blake ran a hand through his wet hair.
"You and me both," Sans grumbled quietly. "You mind if we get outta the rain first? I'm soaked to the bone."
"Right, right, of course!" Blake blushed a little and held the car doors open for them. "I just… I am so confused right now."
"We'll explain on the way back," Sans promised quietly, clambering into the front seat. "I'm still just tryin' to figure out what we're gonna tell Tori and Asgore about their previously dead kid."
And then the screaming started again.
It was a long time before they could get Asriel to stop screaming again.
By the time he finally stopped Blake pulled his hands away from his head, cringing.
"… Okay, so," his voice sounded much quieter than he meant it to. "Um. I think I'm deaf now. Damn. Set of lungs on that kid."
"I know, right?" Sans chuckled weakly, looking in the rear view mirror back at them. Papyrus sat against the window with the crying Asriel sobbing into his chest, slowly hushing him and rocking back and forth. Frisk sat beside him with their legs pulled up to their chest, looking torn between reaching out for him and curling in on themselves. Asriel was hyperventilating and clinging tightly to Papyrus's neck, sobbing dryly and shaking ferociously.
"Is, uh… is he okay?" Blake looked with wide eyes to Sans, who only shrugged.
"What do you think?You ever been brought back from the dead?" he answered simply. "Kinda has that effect on people."
"How in the hell did you bring somebody back from the dead?" he gaped at him with a wary expression.
"That was actually our dad…" Papyrus began slowly as Blake finally started driving through the rain, thankfully much slower than he had gotten there. If Sans had ears they would still be ringing. "He-he said it was a, um… glitch that needed to be… exploited. Or something like that."
"Something like that," Blake repeated in disbelief. "This doesn't make sense. People don't just… just come back from the dead, r-right? This-this… this is insane !"
"I'm pretty sure there's a catch," Sans mumbled just loudly enough for Blake to hear. "Nothing like this ever happens without a catch."
Papyrus seemed to overhear, though, and only shook his head, staring out the window.
"Dad… brought him back, but-but without a soul…" he almost seemed to be talking to himself, staring at his reflection in the rain streaked window. "If Frisk hadn't been there, then…"
Papyrus looked very tired, and very sad, for a long, stretching moment before he tried to reach out for Frisk to pat them on the head. He then realized that he was attempting to do so with what remained of his arm and he quickly put it down, glancing down at his feet.
Sans was quietly boiling inside.
He could see that Papyrus clearly wanted to say something but couldn't, how upset he was, how utterly distressed he had become. And that thing masquerading as a child had done this to him. Sans had to forcibly shift in his seat and glower instead at the glove box, keeping his eye sockets squeezed shut. He didn't need to have another outburst. He didn't need to go taking out his stress and aggression on others. He needed to keep it under control. He needed to stay calm. He had to resist every single urge that he had to swiftly and violently give Flowey - Asriel - a severe case of the being murdereds.
And with the constant stream of questions that Blake was peppering him with, it was growing significantly harder.
"How is this possible? How can someone just be brought back to life? If your dad is a god then
does that make you the friggin' messiah? How can someone die and then come back? What's it like on the other side-?"
"Blake," Sans growled so deeply that he swerved the car a little. "Stop."
Blake looked… hurt, and he glanced away out the window. Sans sighed deeply and rubbed his temples, sitting up straight.
"Look," Sans tried to explain apologetically. "You're… you're askin' me a lotta questions that I don't exactly got the answers for. I just watched my kid do somethin' that shoulda killed 'em, my psychopath of a dad is running loose causing chaos, and I don't know what I'm supposed to say to th' king an' queen. 'Oh, hey guys!'" he said in a mock chirrup. "'Just took a walk, had some breakfast, brought your fucking kid back from the dead, how did your morning go?'"
Nobody spoke.
Nobody said a single word.
Sans couldn't even hear anyone breathe.
He gave a heavy sigh and squeezed his eye sockets shut, wishing that he had the capacity to keep his damned mouth shut for once in his life. He tried to keep a lid on his slowly broiling anger, and it was seeping out regardless no matter how hard he tried to keep it down. Instead of trying to fix his mistakes, he just did what he assumed was the smart thing and kept his teeth locked tightly together, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth to prevent himself from speaking again. He only stared out through the windshield at the oncoming rain, watching vehicles speed by. Every time one of the headlights flashed past, he could still see that damned smirk glare in his vision, no matter where he looked. It was like he was in his head, like he was trying to inject himself into literally every part of his life. But that was impossible.
Then again, he had been in his head already, hadn't he…?
Sans shuddered silently and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to steady his breathing. He needed a nap. He needed a smoke. He needed a drink. Or twelve.
He just wanted to get away from the crazy for just one day.
Out of the corner of his eye socket he saw Blake start to reach for him worriedly, but pulled back when he spotted the shake of Papyrus's head. He drew away somewhat sadly before his face drained of expression, his brows furrowing a little as he focused entirely on the road.
It didn't take them long to reach the apartments even with the weather, and the rain was coming down even heavier than before.
Blake silently pulled out the key ring and spun it a couple of times before pocketing it, still looking blankly ahead.
"Okay," Blake took in a deep breath through his nose. His voice sounded off, and he wasn't looking at anyone. "Okay. So, we've… just got to explain to what are probably going to be some very distressed parents about their… dead kid coming back to life. No big deal. Not a problem. I've had worse conversations."
"Hard to imagine what's gonna be as bad as this…" Sans mumbled just loudly enough to be heard by Blake.
"Dude, have you met my parents?" he stared at him emptily. "Wait, what am I saying. Thank god you haven't. And if all goes according to plan, it'll stay that way."
"I hope that's true for both of us," Sans replied quietly, uncrossing his arms and sighing. "Can't say I'd want ya to meet my dad, either."
"He's… really not so bad, Sans…" Papyrus said softly, looking at him from the back seat with Asriel still clinging to his neck. "You might even get to like him, if you really took the time to talk to him." Sans could only laugh bitterly, shaking his head.
He loved Papyrus. Really he did. But sometime he could be so-
"Don't you dare," Papyrus said in a low, dangerous tone. "Just… don't, Sans."
"What?" he shrugged, forcing a grin. "Wasn't gonna say a thing, bro."
"I'm not stupid," he said defensively. Sans could feel the ice in his tone, and cringed a little.
"Of course not, Paps…" Sans replied softly, his anger slowly slipping away no matter how badly he wanted to hang on to it and just vent on someone. "I never said you were. It's just… this is just insane, Paps. Our lives have completely gone off the rails . In a day. Gaster is a professional liar, Papyrus. He doesn't care about us, or anyone else. He's an unfeeling, manipulative psychopath . He wants something, and what scares me shitless is that I don't know what."
"He's… he can be a good person…" Papyrus deflated slowly, looking away as if he wanted to cry. Which was the last thing that Sans wanted to happen. It was rare that he could keep Frisk from crying, he already had a quietly sobbing child in the car, and he did not need to add to the equation.
"We'll… we'll talk about it later," Sans promised quietly, closing his eye sockets and taking a deep breath. "C'mon. Let's… let's go get this over with."
"Please don't… !" Asriel begged through his tears, almost wringing Papyrus's neck he was holding on so tight. "I-I-I can't, I c-can't, pplease, please no… !"
"Gee, what's wrong, kiddo?" Sans couldn't resist egging him on a little. "Almost like you got a guilty conscience or somethin'-"
His words were cut off and died in his throat from what was possibly the most withering glare that Papyrus had ever given him. He shrank instantly and coughed into his hand, embarrassed that he had even stooped so low. And in front of his brother, no less. Today was just turning out to be fantastic .
"… Human Blake," Papyrus said after a short moment to collect himself in the rain. "May I ask a small favor of you?"
"Of course, man," Blake replied without a single moment's hesitation.
"Anything you need."
"Could-could you… not mention anything about, erm… F-Flowey?" he glanced down to the shaking child in his arm, who had reverted from sobbing into a blubbering, hiccuping mess. "I think that things would run a lot smoother if that was, um. Swept under the rug for now."
Considering that Papyrus was being hailed as a hero for killing the flower by the king and queen, Sans wasn't all that shocked that he would want to protect his image. It then occurred to Sans that maybe, just maybe Papyrus was actually a decent person like he himself could never be and was doing it for the sake of the crying child in his arm. Sans felt like scum for automatically assuming the worst of his brother, sighing again and dragging his wet slippers through the puddles.
"I… y-yeah," Blake looked extremely uncomfortable for a moment before swallowing loudly. "You got it. No talk-y 'bout the flower. Got it. Comprende. Understood. Gotcha."
"Thank you," Papyrus looked immensely relieved.
"You need a hand?" Blake offered him kindly as they reached the slick metal steps.
"Was that intended as a joke?" Papyrus held up his stump, staring at him with a blank look.
"Oh- oh shit, I-I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry man I-I didn't mean-" Papyrus only tittered and shook his head.
"I'm messing with you," he gave a hearty wink, his spirits already returning. "Now, let's go explain something impossible."
"How are we even supposed to do that?" Sans asked as he trudged behind him, his hands deep in his pockets.
"Easily," Papyrus responded without missing a beat, his voice full of determination. "I'm the Great Papyrus, remember? I can do anything."
"Heh. Of course, bro. How could I forget."
"… Okay. Okay," Papyrus steeled himself before Blake's apartment door, closing his eye sockets for a few seconds as he took a deep breath. Sans felt Frisk's hand slowly slip into his, and they gave him an encouraging little smile that he couldn't quite help but return. "Let's go… change everything."
And here we go.
Toriel had been having such a nice day.
Undyne and Alphys had come back from their trip throughout Ebott with many delectables with strange names that she had been happy to sample with them. She had swapped some dumb jokes with the nervous scientist, and although Alphys only knew a few she still laughed at a couple of her silly knock knock ones. Nobody was quite an audience for goofy jokes like Sans was, though. He and Frisk had still not returned, and Blake had left in such a hurry that he hadn't even grabbed his coat to protect him from the rain. That poor dear could catch a cold with weather like this. She frowned as she placed the freshly baked pie on the table, removing her oven mitts. It wasn't the most perfect pie that she had cooked solely by fire magic, but she hoped that it would suffice. The recipe book had called for quite a few apples for the stacked, thick looking pie. It certainly smelled as if it had been cooked properly, and had that perfect golden crisp to it, but she could still smell something else in the air. It was almost like… burning sulfur. Fire magic didn't have that particular scent to it, at least not most. Was she losing her touch?
"How's the pie coming, Tori?"
Toriel sighed quietly.
And she had been having such a nice day.
"Don't call me that again, Dreemurr," she said through clenched teeth, and Asgore recoiled instantly.
"A-ah, y-yes. Of course, de- I mean, Toriel," he corrected himself awkwardly as he tapped his huge fingers together. "I-I just… w-well, you've-you've been in here for quite a while, and I-I just…"
"What is it, Asgore," Toriel wouldn't look directly at him. It wasn't even a question.
"Nothing, really," he shuffled his feet back and forth uneasily. "Just… just wanted to see how you were doing. Do-do you need any help?"
"No I do not need any help, thank you Asgore," she responded in a curt tone, causing him to flinch. "If you truly wish to help, would you go and let the others know that dinner is ready?"
"I can do that!" he perked up a bit, turning on the spot and almost bumping directly into a sopping wet Blake.
"Oh good," he stated somewhat numbly. "Just the people that I wanted to see."
"You certainly don't sound as happy as you usually do to see us…" Toriel clasped her hands together. "You look freezing, is everything al-al… right…"
Toriel looked ready to drop, and Asgore fared no better. He had to sit down, heavily, stumbling back into the kitchen chair and landing on it so hard that it cracked and nearly broke. The queen choked back a dry sob, covering her mouth with her hands and taking a step back from the soaked skeletons standing in the doorway, unable to do anything but stand in stunned shock.
"So, that friend that I went to help out this morning…" Papyrus began quietly, his already loud voice sounding booming through the absolutely deafening silence. "I brought him back with me. I hope you don't mind."
Toriel reached out fearfully, tentatively for her child and Papyrus gently let her lift him from his arm, letting it swing by his side. Asriel sobbed just as much as Toriel did, squeezing his eyes shut and and desperately wriggling for a moment before weakly giving up altogether, falling into an hysterical mess. Asgore only struggled to stand after a bit and held his crying family, thick tears streaming down his cheeks.
"… How?" Asgore breathed, looking to Papyrus for answers. He
looked to be in almost total disbelief, like he refused to accept what was happening. "How…?"
"Nobody gonna start screamin' again, right?" Sans asked nervously.
"How?" Toriel could only repeat Asgore's question.
"Would you believe me if I said that it was an act of god?" Papyrus asked quietly. "Because I was kind of tossing that one around the ol' thought chamber for a while-"
Papyrus was interrupted by the king's bone crushing hug, the breath completely knocked out of him as he was temporarily lifted high into the air. Papyrus patted him uselessly a couple of times as the king cried, ever so slowly dropping him to the floor.
"Please don't let this be another dream," Toriel rocked her crying child back and forth, a stream of tears dripping down her cheeks. "Please, oh god, please don't let this be a dream. Please, oh god please not again."
"I, uh…" Blake cleared his throat uncomfortably. "M-hm. Gonna give you guys some space. You… probably need a minute. Go ahead and take my room."
"What's g-going on?" Alphys tried to see past Sans and Frisk, tapping her claws together. "Is eeveryone o-o-oh, oh my freakin' god."
"Seriously, what's all the racket about?" Undyne called over them, wearing a white tank top with little yellow fish plastered all over it. "Something on fire again? You guys sound like somebody dah-hahawha~aaaaaaaaaaat."
"They need a bit," Blake ushered them all out of the way, clearing the space for the queen to stumble through toward the bedroom with the hiccuping child in her arms. Frisk started to take off after them before they seemed to realize that they were still holding Sans's hand. They looked up at him worriedly, as if asking for permission without speaking, but he only shook his head lightly. "Just, uh… might wanna give 'em some room for now."
"What is happening," Alphys stated numbly, looking back and forth between them all. "What is even happening right now."
"That-that was… !" Undyne gawked after them with her mouth hanging open for a moment, pointing in disbelief down the hall where they had retreated. "No. No way. That looked just like… can somebody fill me in? That's not… no ."
"I literally cannot believe this is happening," Alphys stuttered, cleaning her glasses again and again. "H-holy crap. My l-life has oofficially become weird fanfiction. I d-don't know h-how to f-feel about that."
"That was the prince," Undyne stared after them, whipping her head back and forth. "But-but-Ihow-you can't just - there's no way," she seemed to be growing angrier with every passing confused moment, her fists clenching and unclenching tightly. "He's dead . What in the hell is going on here, Papyrus?"
"Do you mind if I sit down before explaining everything again?" Papyrus asked quietly, rubbing the side of his head. "I am… very, very tired."
"I need a drink," Blake brushed past them somewhat brusquely as they headed to the living room, and Papyrus was dragging his feet the entire way. "Like, now. Right now. Need a drink."
"Mind if I join you?" Sans tugged at his sleeve lightly, and he flinched for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh.
"… Yeah. Sure."
Sans didn't particularly want to let Frisk see him drinking, but from the iron grip on his hand he assumed that they had no intention of letting go any time soon. Sans sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, a little relieved when Frisk finally released their death grip on his hand to sit at the table and… a little disappointed, at the same time. He just wanted somebody to hold on to. Maybe it was selfish. It probably was. He felt like it was. Maybe he was just a selfish person.
Sans didn't complain when Blake broke out a couple of shot glasses, pouring hard bourbon into them and passing one to Sans, dropping into the newly cracked chair across from him. Blake tossed back the drink and poured himself another one before Sans could even get his down. And then he drank another. And another. And another.
And another.
"Might… might wanna, uh… s-slow it down there, buddy…?" Sans looked across at him nervously, noting the lines under his bloodshot eyes and the utter despair that flashed across his face for a few moments.
"I have… some questions," Blake slurred a little, pouring more for Sans when the skeleton motioned for it. He spilled a little on the table, but he didn't really seem to care. "And if it's not too much, I'd really like for you to answer them honestly."
"Honesty is the best policy," Sans shrugged after a moment, finishing off his burning drink.
"You really believe that?" Blake asked quietly.
"Nah, I was lying. But continue anyway."
Blake gave him a look that could only be described as 'completely dead on the inside'.
To be frank, Sans was rapidly considering adding it to his growing collection of things that he never, ever wanted to see again.
"… Sans," Blake began very slowly. "You guys… brought someone back from the dead."
"In… a sense…?" he asked, uncertain of where he was going.
"… Can… can you do it again?"
Oh. Hello again, gut punch feeling. How I long for your absence once more.
"Blake…" Sans started carefully. "I… I don't know how to tell you this. I-I just…"
"You know what," Blake tried to throw back another drink and wound up spilling some on his chin, coughing angrily as he stood. "Sorry. Forget I even asked. Don't know why I bothered."
"B-Blake, hold on… !" Sans tried to stand woozily and almost tripped, unable to swipe the passing human as he stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. Sans stumbled a little as he gripped the doorframe, chasing after the man in the rain. Sans gave up trying to chase after him after a moment, just staring out after him as he watched Blake tumble to his car, locking himself in. He didn't seem to be going anywhere, just sitting and banging his head against the steering wheel. Sans heard nothing but the rain, but he could see the human's shoulders trembling violently. He wanted to take a shortcut directly into the car, but Sans knew well enough when someone just needed time to lick their wounds. He breathed heavily and rubbed his aching temples, quietly returning to the apartment. He hoped that leaving him be for a bit was the right thing to do. He didn't even know what the right thing to do was anymore. He was just so tired.
Shit.
You just can't go five minutes without fucking up, huh.
He checked in on Papyrus sitting between Alphys and Undyne for a few moments, feeling slightly numbed to everything, though whether this was due to the weariness of the day or the human alcohol, he couldn't tell. Human alcohol definitely had a different feeling to it, very discernible from anything he'd had from Grillby. It left him feeling slightly sick. Or maybe that was just everything else piling up and making him regret getting up in the morning. Sans sighed again and returned to the kitchen, far too late to stop them.
Frisk was chugging heavily from the bourbon bottle, their eyes squeezed shut as they drank. He jerked the bottle out of their mouth angrily, causing them to sputter and cough.
"What the hell-?!" he started before he realized that he was shouting. He swiftly dropped his voice to an enraged whisper, trying not to let on just how absolutely furious he was. "What in the hell do you think you're doing ?"
"I needed a drink too," Frisk mumbled miserably, but Sans only jammed the bottle back in the cabinet, standing before them with his hands clenched in his pockets. He wanted to shout so badly, he wanted to tell them off, he wanted to scream and he couldn't do anything.
Again .
"… Y'know what," Sans said after a moment, bitterly looking away. "Not even gonna bother this time. Lucky you. I am too fuckin' tired to deal with this shit. I hope you're sober in the morning, because from sunup to sundown I am gonna be chewin' your ass out."
"Kinky-" Frisk started before they clamped their mouth shut tightly, cheeks reddening as they looked away from him. Sans reached out a hand to them and they flinched hard as if he was going to strike them. Maybe it was all the anger scorching his bones. Maybe it was the drinks. Maybe he was just sick of being jerked around by everyone that he knew, but just a little, tiny sick and vicious part of him wanted to, wanted someone to take it out on.
The growing horror of it ever so slowly dawned on Sans exactly what he was thinking, and he suddenly felt like being ill. Frisk looked at him in unfettered terror as he discovered that he was still standing with his hand extended, and he slowly, cautiously, ever so gently patted them on the head.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-!" Frisk cringed at his touch, and it… ached, in his soul that they were so afraid of him. He didn't want them to be afraid of him.
But if that was what it took to get the point across…
"… Go get your pajamas, kid," he said without a trace of emotion in his voice. "Let's go… watch a movie or sommat. I don't really care right now. I am out of fucks to give. We'll talk in the morning."
"You really are a disgusting creature."
Papyrus held him up by the throat with one hand, his eye sockets burning with rage. Sans struggled weakly in his grip, unable to move, unable to breathe.
"I'm sorry," he strained to breathe properly, his voice steadily getting cut off the tighter that he was choked. "I'm sorry, Paps, please believe me… !"
"You revolt me," his brother spat, skeletal eyebrows narrowed hatefully in a look that never belonged on Papyrus's face. "I can't believe that I ever once called you family."
He could feel hot tears staining his face, his weak kicks doing nothing to help him out of Papyrus's steel grip. He wanted Papyrus to see reason, to let him go, he wanted to just be held again, he wanted Frisk back, where was Frisk? Were they safe? Had he at least accomplished that small feat? It felt like his spine was slowly being snapped, he was going to be dusted and deep down he knew that it was exactly what he deserved, it burned, it hurt so much and why didn't Papyrus care?
"It should have been you pushed into that machine."
Sans felt his neck break violently in two between Papyrus's hands and he fell backwards into the
dark as shadows warped and twisted around him, gnawing at him hungrily like wolves being tossed a carcass after ages of starving. He was being ripped, torn and pulled apart by countless invisible teeth, blackened hands that yanked cruelly to see him twist and break into a million dusty pieces-
Sans jerked awake in the dark, feeling like being sick. He was sitting reclined on the couch, his crossed feet up with Frisk clinging to him tightly by the shirt, curled up atop him beneath their blanket.
"What?" he murmured as he realized that Frisk was shaking him by the shoulders. He could see their wide eyes glimmering in the dark, fearful and panicked. "Babybones?"
"It's okay," Frisk hugged him quietly, trembling a little. "It's okay, don't c-cry, Sans…"
"I'm not-" he started before he felt his face. His cheeks were wet and his breath was uneven, his soul pounding in his chest from the dream. What had the nightmare been about again? He had so many these days. It was hard to keep track of which ones were tormenting him. He briefly (and somewhat drunkenly) wondered if any of his dreams had to wait and take a number before bothering him. Maybe they all had to wait in a boring line and kept checking their watches impatiently.
"I'm not cryin'," he lied uselessly as Frisk held him in the dark. They only hushed him and kissed his cheek, hugging him around the neck. "H-hey now. C'mon. Don't… don't freak out, babybones. It's… it's all good."
"I'm sorry," Frisk mumbled into his chest, their shoulders shaking a little. "I'm sorry. Please don't be sad. I'll be good. I'm sorry-"
"Hey. Hey, hush, babybones," Sans stroked their hair softly. He was still far too sober to deal with life. "Don't cry, baby. I'll… I'll fix all of this. I'll figure something out."
"You keep saying that," Frisk wiped their eyes miserably, hiccuping.
"Because it's true," he said with what he hoped was determination and only felt like illness. He gave them a reassuring little squeeze, pulling them close and kissing their forehead as softly as he could. "I just… in the morning. I'll take care of this, babybones. You trust me, right?"
Frisk didn't respond immediately, and it felt like a railroad spike being driven into his chest.
Eventually however, they sighed through their nostrils and closed their eyes, leaning their head against his shoulder.
"I trust you. I… I love you, Sans."
"I love you too, babybones."
Even as he lay awake, staring up at the dark ceiling that he had just started to become accustomed to, he could still hear their confession bouncing around his head.
He wasn't certain how to deal with the conflicting emotions burning his soul. It really would be for everyone's best interests if they were just… somewhere safer. With someone that could take care of them properly. Someone less selfish and cruel.
Someone who deserved to be loved.
Frisk fell asleep on his chest again not long after they had fallen silent.
Sans, however, did not sleep at all that night. He was so full of it that it was coming out of his mouth. He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't know how to fix them. He didn't even know how to fix himself. He was an illness and the only cure was to remove himself from the equation altogether.
He only laid there and stared at the ceiling, desperately wishing that he had never woken up at all.
Sans was drifting.
He really did not care for the feeling. Sans felt as though he was falling through the dark, his aching bones crying out as he reached for something or someone that wasn't there. He called out into the abyss, for someone, anyone. Anyone at all.
But nobody came.
He stood over their broken body, fists clenched tightly in his pockets.
Why wouldn't they just give up? He did. He gave up a long time ago. It made things so much easier. He could barely hear
their muffled cries as they tried to free the sharp bone piercing their femur, coughing and crying and reaching out for him through his enraged screaming
"Please, please, n-no more… !"
"Aww. What's the matter? You aren't enjoying it enough? I guess you just need a few more doses."
"No, no no NO please, don't please it hurts it HURTS PLEASE HELP ME MOMMY IT HURTS-!"
Sans blinked awake, his head feeling heavy. He was sweating and his breathing was heavy and labored, he felt like being violently ill. Did he have another nightmare? His head felt blurrier than usual. He was shaking horribly, the flashing images in his eye sockets remaining no matter how much he blinked, and he strained to clear his mind for several minutes. He didn't want to remember. He didn't want to think. Not about that. He didn't want to remember what he was. But whatever that was, he most certainly did not want to ever see it again. He had to lightly grip Frisk to ensure that they were still sleeping beside him, safe and sound. Like they should be. It was only a nightmare. But god help him, it had felt so real. It was such a lucid, clear dream that it almost felt as if he were living it. He shakily brushed Frisk's hair in their sleep, getting his phalanges tangled in their locks, but he didn't care. He just wanted to hold on to them. He didn't want them to know just how badly the nightmare had rattled him.
It just felt so real .
He pinched his eye sockets closed tightly, taking a few deep, steady breaths. He didn't want to think about anyone hurting his little babybones. He was so furious, shaking with so much anger that it made his bones feel like they were heating from the inside out. Frisk mumbled something in their sleep, and he gently stroked their hair. It was sometime around early morning, he could tell that. The rain had finally let up and the first few glimmering rays of sunlight were beginning to peek in through the slightly foggy windows. Real, natural sunlight still felt so hard to adjust to. He was so tired. So drained. He just wanted to stay on the couch with his sleeping babybones, letting them curl up beside him and snuggle against his chest while they slept. He wanted to stay like this. He didn't want to go back to thinking. He didn't even want to be awake.
But he eventually sighed again, stroking their head and causing them to mutter something that he couldn't hear. They looked so troubled in their sleep, like they were in pain. He just wanted to hold on to them, to make the hurt go away. He could make out the sound of soft conversation from the kitchen, and Sans shook his head. He ever so gently slipped out from beneath the blanket, making sure to take the time to tuck Frisk in. They groggily blinked a couple of times and tried to hold his hand to pull him back to the couch, but he just hushed them and held a finger bone to their lips.
"Don't worry, babybones," he said softly. "I'm not leavin' ya. Okay? Just… go back to sleep."
"No," Frisk murmured, frowning and yawning quietly. "Don't go… pplease…"
"I won't be gone long," he promised gently, petting their head and brushing through their hair with his phalanges. "Just hang tight, baby. Go back to sleep. It's too early. On days like these, kids like you should be taking it easy. So just rest up. I'll be right back, babybones."
Frisk mumbled something incoherently about needle sauce and chocolate, and he just stroked their head until they finally closed their eyes again, settling into the couch. Sans released a quiet sigh and straightened his back, silently padding toward the kitchen. He could really use coffee. And maybe some hair of the dog that bit him. But it was probably too early for alcohol, he didn't need it. He didn't need it. Especially not human alcohol, it must have made him… not think clearly. He missed Grillby's hard cider. He missed Grillby.
Maybe he would go pay him a visit.
"Mornin'," Sans stumbled into the kitchen tiredly, reaching for the coffee pot with half lidded eye sockets and missing twice. "You guys are up early."
"We never went to sleep," Undyne rubbed her weary eye as she sat at the table beside Alphys, the king and queen gathered before them across the table. "We've kinda been… up."
"So I see," Sans rubbed his aching eye sockets. "Somethin' going on? Where's Paps?"
"He is… with our son," Asgore explained quietly, hands folded over one another on the table, an untouched cup of tea sitting before him. "He only requested to see him, and him alone, all night."
"Asriel will not even speak to us…" Toriel said miserably, rubbing her reddened eyes. "I-I just… this is all so much. He doesn't even want to see us. I-I cannot blame him."
"Tori…" Sans started, but she shook her head.
"He must hate us so much…" Toriel looked ready to start crying again, her head in her hands. "A-after we let him d-die, gods above and below, no wonder he loves Papyrus more t-than his own parents. We don't even deserve to have him b-back…"
"Okay, whoa," Sans switched the hot coffee cup from hand to hand, using his free hand to grip Toriel's shoulder gently but firmly. "Whoa now. Take-take a breath, Tori. He-he doesn't hate you. Okay? Tori. Toriel," Sans placed his coffee cup on the table, standing firmly before her and grasping her shoulders, and she dried her eyes with her palms, her breath shaking. "Listen to me, sweetheart. I'm sure that he doesn't hate you. He's just…"
Sans paused, uncertain of how to continue.
"He's… he's seen some things…" he tried to explain quietly, drawing away a little and sticking his hands in his pockets. "Comin' back from the dead can't be an easy thing ta deal with. Paps is just-just… really good with kids is all. Your son doesn't hate you," Sans repeated again, looking with determination to Asgore, who was holding his head in one hand and covering his eyes, looking downward and sighing.
"P-perhaps I am… only being a silly old woman," Toriel began softly, rubbing her eyes again and looking away.
"You're not being silly," Sans tried to say as gently as he could, taking her hand in his. "This is, uh. Kind of a lot to deal with. To be honest I'm kinda surprised you guys are taking it as well as you are."
"How could he ever forgive us…?" Asgore rumbled dejectedly, falling into a poorly hidden sob. "We did not save him. I… I still have dreams about m-my son's d-dust on my hands…"
Asgore closed his eyes again and took a long, labored breath, shaking a little until Undyne reached over and gently grasped his shoulder with one hand. Asgore seemed a little surprised, but Undyne simply smiled kindly at him.
"Take it easy there, big guy…" she said in a surprisingly tender tone. "Can't believe I'm agreeing with the bonehead, but Sans is right. I'm sure he doesn't hate you. He's probably just really freaked out."
"Surrounded by an entire city of humans…" Toriel frowned, turning her untouched cup in circles a few times. "And after the last time he encountered humans, I… cannot say that I am all that surprised that he would not want to be here. It was so long ago, but sometimes it feels as though it was only yesterday that he was running around the garden with…"
Toriel stopped suddenly, clasping a hand over her mouth and steeling herself. Her red rimmed eyes were wide and she rocked gently back and forth. She seemed a little upset that Asgore reached out to her and gave her a light hug around the shoulder, but she did not push him away.
"… Toriel," Asgore said quietly. "I… know that we have our… differences. But please believe me, I only want what is best for our son. To think that he has returned, after all this time, it… hurts. It feels as though my soul is falling apart. I almost fear to believe that it could possibly be real. Just… please do not despair, Tori. We will get through this."
Toriel was looking at him with a very strange stare, and Sans couldn't quite place what it was. She looked so tired, so bitter, so conflicted and angry and exhausted. After a moment the look faded and she closed her eyes, ever so slowly lifting her hand up and brushing Asgore's with her fingertips. She just looked so tired. Sans could relate.
"… We will get through this," Toriel repeated softly as Asgore withdrew his hand, sighing and taking a sip of his tea. "I only wish that he would speak to us again."
"I'm gonna go check on Paps," Sans said as he spun his coffee through his phalanges without spilling it. "Blake come back yet?"
"H-he's s-still o-out in the c-car…" Alphys mumbled, and Sans had almost forgotten that she was sitting there at all she had been so quiet. Sans frowned, thinking. He needed to check up on the human. He had probably been in the car all night, and from the cold rain it couldn't have been too comfortable. Sans only sighed and shook his head. He needed to make it up to Blake, somehow. But how was he supposed to even explain that he couldn't just raise people from the dead? He leaned over the couch to check on Frisk, gently brushing their hair. Their eyes opened red and wide with panic at his touch, but they relaxed significantly after a moment and sighed, grasping his hand in theirs and giving a soft little smile. When they reopened their eyes Sans could easily see that they were that sweet chocolate brown that he had grown so accustomed to seeing. Frisk only nodded at him once and looked back to the bedroom door, where he could hear soft talking emanating from. They held his hand as they shuffled off the couch, silently insisting that they come with him. He wondered how Chara was reacting to all of this craziness swarming them lately.
Sans knocked a couple of times on the bedroom door, taking a sip of his coffee. It was a little bitter, but he didn't really care.
"Knock knock," Sans said quietly.
"Come on in, Sans."
"No, no…" he shook his head, grinning. "You're supposed to say 'who's there'."
"Absolutely not," Papyrus's irritated voice was muffled.
"Aww, come on, Paps…" Sans whined a little, winking at Frisk. "Knock knock?"
Papyrus sighed heavily.
"… Who's there."
"Etch."
"Etch, who?"
"Bless you," Sans grinned as he opened the bedroom door, and Papyrus only sighed and shook his head. He was sitting on the edge of Blake's bed with Asriel in his lap, clinging to him around the neck. He wore a pair of Frisk's striped pajamas, and when he saw Sans enter the worried look on his face quickly shifted to one of pure, unadulterated terror . Frisk wasted no time in darting to his side, surprising him by giving him a tight hug. Sans was just as surprised as Asriel, and Frisk grasped him loosely with a little smile.
"Are you okay?" Frisk asked softly, and Asriel could only swallow dryly. He looked ready to be sick, his eyes tearing up as he clung to Papyrus. He ever so slowly nodded, burying his face in Papyrus's shoulder. Frisk clambered up onto the bed, and Asriel begrudgingly let them hug him, and he gently held their hand as they whispered something to him. Papyrus only sighed quietly, trying to reach out for Frisk with his missing hand before realizing what he was doing and dropping his arm.
"I'm sorry," Asriel cried softly, weeping as Papyrus dried his tears with his scarf. "P-Papyrus. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry-"
"Hush now, little one…" Papyrus said gently as he hugged him. "I only regret that I cannot hold you both at the same time."
This only caused Asriel to sob harder, clinging weakly to him.
"I h-hurt y-you…" he blubbered as Frisk petted his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm so-so sorry…"
"Shh. Come on, now…" Papyrus rubbed his back and gently placed his stump arm on Frisk's shoulder as he tried to hold them both. "It's okay. Everything is going to be alright, little one."
Sans felt like an intruder. It was like he was seeing something that he wasn't meant to, and it made his soul ache. He couldn't trust that child. That thing. No matter how long he kept up the waterworks, he wasn't to be trusted. He would wind up stabbing them all in their sleep, he knew it. Gaster didn't just bring people back because he wanted to be a good person, there was something deeper going on and he felt it in his bones. He sighed after a moment, reaching out and stroking Frisk's hair as he looked up at his brother.
"I'm… gonna go to Grillby's," Sans said quietly after a while. "Papyrus, do you… want anything?"
Papyrus only shook his head, sighing a little.
"I'm fine, Sans…" he said softly. "What about you, little ones? Would you like anything?"
Asriel didn't speak, but Frisk looked absolutely torn between going with Sans and staying with Papyrus. Their distress grew as they glanced back and forth between them, biting their bottom lip. They eventually shook their head and looked away sadly, holding on to Asriel's trembling hand with theirs. Sans felt a little betrayed by that.
"It's okay…" Frisk said with a soft little smile. "It's okay, Asriel. I forgive you."
This only caused him to cry even harder.
He wanted them to come with him, he wanted to be chosen over him. Why was he getting like this? He wasn't jealous. Certainly not of some snot nosed brat. He wasn't getting jealous . He didn't need to be angry. He wasn't angry, and he repeated that firmly to himself several times as he stalked away, silently closing the bedroom door behind him. He was just being silly. Frisk was a smart kid. If they trusted him enough to hug the living daylights out of him, then maybe he wasn't…
What was he even talking about, he couldn't trust that thing. Not after what he'd done to him. To his friends. To his family.
To his little babybones.
That thing was an abomination. Sans knew what it had done. He remembered. He knew Frisk remembered. They still woke up sobbing hysterically because of it. They probably both would for the rest of their lives.
Sans let out a heavy breath through his teeth, clenching his fists in his jacket pockets. He didn't bother speaking to anyone as he left through the front door, as they all seemed to be relatively drawn into their conversation between each other. He didn't need to overhear what they were saying to know what they were talking about. He sighed again and made his way down the metal steps, trodding toward the car still sitting in the same spot. He saw that Blake was sitting with his head on the steering wheel. He knocked on the window a couple of times, but the human didn't move at all. Sans frowned, staring for a moment before falling into a shortcut.
"Yo."
Blake screamed and jumped, his knees crashing into the steering wheel. He hissed in pain, his bloodshot eyes flickering over to the grinning skeleton sitting in the seat beside him.
"How in the hell do you do that?" Blake grumbled, rubbing his aching knees. His voice sounded hoarse, and he had pronounced lines under his eyes. "The door was locked, how do you do that?"
"… You really wanna know?" Sans asked quietly. Blake swallowed dryly and nodded a couple of times, rubbing his bare arms. "Okay. So, uh. How much do you know about quantum mechanics?"
"Not… a lot…?" he said in mild confusion. Sans only reached for the magic, slowly pointing a finger out the window.
Blake saw Sans standing in front of the car. He blinked and whipped his head back toward the skeleton beside him, eyes wide and mouth agape as he glanced out the door where he had seen Sans, the other skeleton gone.
"W-what?" he sputtered, unable to comprehend what was happening. "That-that was… how…?!"
"Appearing in more than one place at a time," Sans picked up a couple of pennies from the floorboard, placing them in his hands. "Not technically, but sort of. It's like holding these at the same time. Y'get it? Both are the same thing, just in more than one place at a time. Existing on multiple planes of existence and peeking through the veil every now and then."
"I… you can teleport," Blake said in disbelief, rubbing his reddened eyes. "I have… way more questions. Every time I get an answer I get a dozen more questions."
"I can explain it all to ya sometime," Sans shrugged. Blake took a deep breath and shook his head, letting out a quiet sigh.
"I… I need to apologize," he said after a few moments.
"You don't have to apologize for a thing," Sans said quietly. "I shouldn't have been such an
asshole. I got mad, and I started taking it out on my friends like a total dickweed. I'm… I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry for being stupid," Blake said after a second, frowning. "I shouldn't have-"
"Dude," Sans placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to blush a little. "It's really okay. I… I understand."
"I'm so damned selfish," he groaned, letting his head fall against the steering wheel with a thunk. "I should be in there, helping Toriel and Asgore get through this, and all I could think about was myself…"
"C'mon, man," Sans withdrew his hand slowly, crossing his arms. "Don't beat yourself up about it. They're still in there. They were… really worried about you."
"They were?" Blake blinked in surprise.
"Uh. Duh?" Sans stared at him. "We all were. You've been out here all night."
"… Oh, shit, Richie's coming today…" he moaned miserably, rubbing his temples. "I'm… I'm gonna go back in."
"Alright. That's what I wanted to hear," Sans gave him a soft smile.
"Just… we were missin' you, man. It's not the same without you."
Blake's cheeks flushed a bit and he looked away, frowning.
"Sans, I…" he started after a few minutes, drawing up a deep breath. "There's something I need to-" Sans was already gone.
"I just dunno what to do, Grillbz," Sans said quietly as he turned his hard cider in the bottle, taking a long swig. "This is way outta my area of expertise."
"It is difficult to believe that the prince of monsters has returned after all this time…" Grillby shook his head, wiping down the counter with his sleeves rolled up. A couple of humans sat behind him speaking quietly amongst themselves, the woman giggling now and then. He wished that he had brought Frisk with him. He could have been swapping jokes with them right now. He wanted to hear them giggle, too. He missed hearing them laugh. He missed seeing them happy. They were such a good kid. They deserved so much more than he could possibly give him. He wasn't being paranoid leaving them with Asriel. Papyrus had everything under control. He had killed the bastard flower before, if he tried anything Papyrus could probably handle it.
Should have snapped his filthy fucking neck when I had the chance-
Sans shuddered and chugged heavily, finishing off his drink and motioning for another. He didn't need to be having awful thoughts like that. He wasn't twisted. He wasn't evil. He was just looking out for his family. He was so bitter, so furious. He just needed to keep it down, drown it. That was the best answer to the question. He thanked Grillby silently as the bartender handed him another drink, and he sighed quietly after a while.
"I'm… I'm not sure that-that…" Sans started, a little drunkenly as the cider warmed his chest. "I mean, I just… I just wanna be a good dad. I wanna take care of my kid. And everything is just so… wild. Y'know?"
"I am certain that the household must be hectic," Grillby nodded quietly from behind the bar. "I can only imagine what the king and queen are going through right now. I can definitely imagine just how painful it must be to see someone return from beyond. I would not wish that suffering on anyone."
"I, uh…" Sans rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Blake, the guy we're crashing with… he, uh. Really… wanted us to try to bring someone back. I tried ta explain that it's not that easy, bu-but… god. He must hate me, so much."
"Nobody hates you, Sans…" Grillby said softly.
But they should.
"I dunno what we're supposed to do with the queen's kid," Sans shrugged after a while. "For somebody that was killed by humans, and now he's completely surrounded by 'em."
"Acclimatization to this new world might take a while, and most certainly will require the love and support of his friends and family…" Grillby said quietly. "Opinions of others can change. It just takes a kind heart and a few good friends."
"… You're a good guy, Grillbz," Sans said thankfully, swallowing. "You kinda sound like an expert on the situation."
"I used to hate humans," he shrugged simply. Sans blinked, unable to quite process what the bartender had just said. Especially in a place with so many human customers.
"… Se-seriously?" Sans stared at him.
"When we were enemies, I held quite a bit of a grudge…" Grillby answered softly, looking away and readjusting his tie. "After what happened to my wife, I…"
Sans closed his eye sockets for a moment before taking a deep breath, wanting to say so much to him and unable to really convey what he wanted.
"… You still miss 'er."
"Of course I do," Grillby sighed quietly. "But that is what war does to people."
Sans blinked again, feeling as though a part of his mind had just melted.
"What. Wait…" he said after a bit, struggling to comprehend. "War?
As-as in… the war? Grillbz… Grillby? Just… just how old are you?"
"Older than you," he said simply with a little shrug, passing Sans a new bottle when he emptied it. "But I eventually learned to let go of my grudges. I became much happier after that. Holding anger inside of you only results in bitterness and anger at the world. By loving my foes, am I not destroying my enemies by making them friends?"
"… You're a wise man, Grillbz," Sans raised his bottle to the fiery bartender with a newfound respect for his friend. "We're checkin' out New New Home today now that the houses are finished. You got a place over there too?"
"We have a flat above the bar," Grillby said quietly, cleaning a glass with a pristine cloth. "I am eager to enroll Fuku in the school being built in New New Home."
"They're building a school already?" Sans said in mild surprise. "Man. That was quick."
"With so many monster's children coming to the surface, they must be well educated about the new world. I cannot believe you did not know about this, Sans. It's practically next to your new home."
"The new home in New New Home," Sans grinned at him. "So when we refurnish it it'll be a new new home in New New Home, New New Home's new new home."
Grillby only chuckled and shook his head, sidling away to help more customers. Sans could finally relax for just a little bit, the drink warming his insides. God how he'd missed Grillby's. It was almost like he had never even left the Underground.
Then Sans rethought that, and cringed deeply. He couldn't believe that the thought had ever even crossed his mind. He didn't miss the Underground at all. He didn't miss the repetition. He just missed feeling… safe. That was all he wanted. He wondered if that was what Frisk wanted, too.
Had he ever once, even once bothered to ask what they wanted?
Sans frowned and rubbed his temples, wishing that he could escape his own mind for a bit. He sighed and left some money on the counter top, withdrawing and sticking his hands in his pockets as he passed a chatting couple of bunny monsters at one of the tables. He needed to go check up on Frisk, and Papyrus. He really couldn't care less about the prince. He didn't want to care, it was such an obvious trap. He was going to wait until their guard was down and butcher them all in their sleep, and the resets would come again when he eventually got to Frisk and he'd wind up back in the Underground and it was all just so fucking pointless.
San wished that it would rain again to match his cloudy mood. But instead the sun was out, it was a warm day with a gentle breeze blowing through the streets, and people were passing and some not even freaking out about seeing a skeleton standing on the sidewalk anymore. Everything was changing, the whole world was change and it was terrifying. How was he supposed to deal with it all? He felt as if he were being pushed by so many issues to deal with that if he even tried a little he would be overwhelmed and beaten down. His own breaking point was just so laughably low, he wasn't nearly as strong as Papyrus, not nearly as good and pure as Frisk. He was so foul.
Sans suddenly felt the urge to be close to Frisk again, and he sighed and closed his eyes. He fell into a shortcut through a dark alley, reentering the world in the park. The dancing shade of the old oak tree in the park cast shadows over him, and he leaned forward with his hands on his knees, feeling slightly sick. That little brat was just a setup, he knew it. He was going to kill them all the
first chance that he got, and Sans had left him alone with his brother. God, did he really care that little about his own family that he would leave a serial killer with him? He was so vile, so disgustingly selfish. Sans could feel his bones boiling as he reached deep for the magic, his own self loathing making him want to puke. His stomach twisted tightly in anger, the slowly roiling rage burning through his bones as the scream steadily increased in volume and intensity. Everything was piling up all at once and he just couldn't handle it, the child back from the dead stealing part of his little babybone's soul for his own sick purposes, hurting them after he had promised that nobody would ever hurt them again, his inability to say what he wanted to the ones he loved, his own fury that he couldn't even protect himself from Gaster or even a freakin' flower, let alone his family. He couldn't hold it back anymore, he was just so utterly pissed .
The scream broke free from his mouth as he hurled a flaming blue hand out into the air, bellowing in aggravation, in repressed rage, in hate, black and bubbling in his stomach. The blaster roared as an enormous burst of blindingly bright energy ripped through the air, tearing through the tree at an angle and right into the sky, vaporizing the upper portion of the tree and leaving it with a tall stump. Clumps of demolished tree danced smoking through the air, spiraling to the ground around him. Sans let out a shaking breath and fell to his knees in exhaustion, his bones feeling as though they were made of lead. He was just so tired. So furious. So bitter. So goddamned tired.
It was then that he realized that there were more than a couple of people in the park, clearing out when he turned to them. A hint of panic rose in him. Why had he even done that? That was the smart idea. He was a dangerous creature. Humans really shouldn't be around him. Not even the one that he loved the most. He needed to see Alphys. He needed to get Frisk to the lab and inspect their soul properly to ensure that they were okay. He needed to fix this before somebody found out and he was executed like he deserved. He needed to stay calm before he wound up killing something. And a sick, cruel little part of him found that a slightly relaxing thought, actually having someone who deserved it to take his anger out on, to unleash his vengeance upon. And he hated that about himself, he despised it so much. But he couldn't take it out of himself, he couldn't fix himself. He could fix his loved ones. He couldn't fix anything. He just felt so… broken.
From the shadows, he could feel that awful smirk on him the entire time.