Going Slightly Mad
Chapter 49: Going Slightly Mad
Sans didn't mind having a slow day in the slightest.
It was a fairly warm day out with a gentle, cool breeze that ruffled the trees and the tall, puffy clouds, and Sans didn't particularly mind the weather. Shades danced over the ground like fleeing whispers from the sweeping skies. Seeing it change so frequently was strange, but not altogether in a bad way. He sat out on the front step for a while, watching for any sign of Papyrus, although the skeleton didn't seem to be returning any time soon. Sans tried calling him a couple of times but it went straight to voice mail. He sighed quietly and stuck his phone back in his pocket, frowning. His brother was a big skeleton. He could take care of himself.
That didn't help him feel any less nervous, though.
He gazed up at the open sky, the wide city around them, the rustle of wind on his bones. It was all so open, so expansive.
So why did he feel so… trapped?
Sans closed his eye sockets and stuck his hands in his pockets, drawing himself up a little as he stood to go back inside. He felt a couple of drops and drew his jacket a little tighter around himself, shrugging as he slipped inside.
"Are they here yet?" Frisk asked for the third time from their spot on the couch, legs drawn up and pulled inside their 'disguise'.
"Al said she'd be about another hour or so with Undyne," Sans shrugged his jacket off and started to put it on the coat rack before putting it right back on. Why was he so indecisive over something so small? "And Asgore and Tori are… spendin' some time with their kid. He's, uh…." Sans quietly debated telling them what Toriel had informed him over the phone, and decided against it. "They'll be a little while. You sure you're not still hungry, kiddo?"
"I had so many waffles I think I'm gonna barf," Frisk rubbed their stomach with a frown.
"Gross. Five points if you can spray it in a five foot radius around you, fifty points if you can nail the television."
Frisk only giggled and stuck out their tongue as he flopped onto the couch beside them.
"But I'm the gross one?" they poked him in the side of the head, making him tilt a little. "That's super gross!"
"Oh, you think I'm gross now," he rolled the lights in his eye sockets with a small grin, folding his hands together as he reclined in the seat. "Just you wait, kiddo. I'm gonna be, like, super old dad gross. You know the kind. Smellin' their armpits and belching. Scratchin' their butts in public, makin' fart jokes in front of all your friends."
Frisk only shook their head, curling up underneath his arm and snuggling against his chest as he flicked the television on.
"I dunno if you're old dad gross just yet," Frisk sighed quietly. "You're more like a weird uncle, but kind of a dad too. Like a dad - uncle mixed together. A-a dunkle."
"… Every day I'm scared and think to myself that I can't possibly love you any more than I already do," he nuzzled the top of their head with his chin, unable to keep the dopey grin off his face. "God I've never been so glad to be proven wrong."
"Why would you be scared?" Frisk leaned back a little to gaze up at him, laying their head in his lap and staring up to meet his eye sockets. "I thought grownups didn't get scared."
"Whoever told you that is a dirty liar," Sans frowned down at them, stroking their hair softly. "Grownups get scared all the time. Hell, I'm scared most of the time."
"Why?" they asked him in plain confusion.
"Why do you think?" he gave a weak but forced laugh, pausing his petting of their head. Frisk looked away uncomfortably, but he sighed and resumed getting his phalanges tangled in their hair. "I just… I don't know enough about enough. There's too many variables outside of my control, too many things that could go wrong and I don't know how to fix 'em. There's just too much I don't know."
"Why not?"
"Whaddya mean, 'why not'?" Sans snorted. "What, you think I know everything about everything?"
"Yes," Frisk said without so much as missing a beat, blinking up at him. Sans felt a bit of heat in his cheeks as he closed his eye sockets with a sigh, rubbing their hair softly.
"You're a good kid, Frisk."
"You're a good daddy, Sans."
Five little words was all it took and it felt like his soul was breaking apart.
He wanted to deny them, wanted to tell them just what a horrible person he was, just how terrible and cruel he was on the inside. But they looked at him with so much… happiness, so much love, so much sheer trust and mercy in their eyes that his words failed before they could even form. He only wound up sighing again and closing his eye sockets, pretending that the heat in his cheeks wasn't bothering him. This kid really was sweeter than sugar.
"… I'm on TV."
"What?"
"I'm on the TV," Frisk pointed in shock at the television without lifting their head from his lap. Sans stared at the news reporter going over the footage of Frisk standing before the crowd of people with Asgore nearby. The headline running across the bottom of the screen read something that made him extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden.
"… Sans?"
"Yeah, babybones."
"What's… 'Stockholm syndrome'?"
"I dunno, kiddo," Sans lied through his teeth as he changed the channel as quickly as he could. "I'll bet I know of somebody who does know, though."
"Who?" Frisk craned their neck a little to look up at him.
"A friend of Richard's, apparently," he shrugged quietly. "Somebody who's done a lot of work learning how brains work and junk. We can give her a call today, if you want. He thinks it'd be a real good idea to talk with her."
Frisk mumbled something and tucked their hands into their jacket sleeves, but Sans only sighed and petted their hair, gently scraping their scalp with his fingertips. He just wanted to stay like this for a while. Was that really so much to ask?
Sans couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was wrong, though. It prickled at the base of
his spine and crawled up his back to whisper in the dark corners of his mind, reminding him of what he had said to his brother so cruelly, so coldly. He felt slimy for taking his frustration out on his brother, and he couldn't help but think on the note that had been hurtled through Blake's window.
You're next.
Papyrus was out there, he was outside where there were humans and weapons and dangers around every corner-!
Sans took a moment to realize that Frisk was sitting up and squeezing his hand tightly as he took in short, shallow gasps of air, eye sockets wide. He squeezed them shut and held his breath for a moment, trying to still himself. What was he getting so panicked for? Papyrus was a big skeleton. He could take care of himself. He was just being silly. He was being paranoid. He didn't need to go breaking down, especially not in front of Frisk. They just held on to him though, whispering something as they ran their hand over his head, hushing him like he was a spooked animal.
You could always reset
Once again, they were the one comforting him, ever so slowly drawing him out of a near meltdown. He was so weak. So pitiful, it disgusted him. He shouldn't rely on them to help calm him down from his panics. He was supposed to be the adult. Frisk needed him to actually act like one for once in his existence.
What in the actual fuck am I doing with my life.
"… You okay?" Frisk asked softly, rubbing his knuckles with their thumb.
"Fine," Sans lied instantly, forcing himself to relax a little despite his trembling. "Everything is fine. Don't-don't worry, kiddo."
"Are you sure-?" Frisk started worriedly, but he cut them off with a little wave of his hand.
"I'm tellin' ya, it's all good. Don't even worry 'bout it. Man, can you believe how many television channels that humans have?" Sans grinned at them, flicking through several channels with the remote. "There's like a billion. I mean, it's nuts. You guys have so much to watch, how do you possibly find time for it all?"
"Too much TV is bad for you," Frisk frowned. "Didn't anybody ever tell you that?"
"Papyrus," Sans shrugged. "He always tries to keep me on the straight an' narrow."
Sans glanced over to the door as if he was expecting his brother to return at any moment, bounding in through the front door with a goofy smile plastered onto his face and his scarf blowing in the wind behind him as he shouted for Sans.
But of course that was just a fantasy.
Nobody came.
Sans had to fight the urge to whip out his phone and start calling literally everybody that he knew to ask them about his brother. But he was just being paranoid. That's all it was. He was being crazy, letting his fears get to him. Papyrus could take care of himself. He was so much stronger than Sans, so much more capable. So much more caring, so much more trusting. Sans had no doubt that there were people who would take advantage of that trusting nature of his, and it was even more likely if he was out wandering the place drunk. Sans felt sick to his stomach that he had even let his brother leave the house like that. Didn't he care? Didn't he love him, even a little? He shouldn't have frozen up. He should have known better, he should have done something. Anything.
"Sans?"
"What's up, kiddo?" Sans realized that he had been staring at the door for what was probably the last five minutes.
"My belly hurts."
"Probably shouldn't have shoveled down all those waffles that fast," Sans petted their head softly. "I mean, seriously. I didn't even think you could pack away that much."
"Chara really likes the chocolate," Frisk said as if it were obvious. "I don't want them to be hungry."
Something clicked in the back of his mind. Was that why Frisk had the habit of going back for seconds? Because they wanted to make sure that Chara ate, too? Dear god they really were the sweetest, most thoughtful kid he had ever met. Sans felt his soul melt a little, the warmth blossoming as he gave them a light hug.
Sans heard shouting emanating from outside, and he sighed quietly. It would appear that Undyne and Alphys had arrived. He could make out the warrior's bellowing even from inside, and it took him a moment to figure out that she was swearing and screaming words that Sans most certainly did not want Frisk to hear. His curiosity was piqued, and he slowly stood. Frisk tried to come with them, but he pressed a finger to their forehead and gently pushed them back down.
"I'm gonna go check it out," he said quietly, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Stay here for me. Okay?"
"Why?" Frisk asked worriedly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong," he said quickly, pressing lightly on their shoulders to get them to sit back down. "I'll just be a sec. Undyne probably stubbed a toe or somethin', lemme go check to see if she's okay."
Sans left them swiftly, closing the front door decorated with their old wreath behind him as he took off down the steps two at a time, noting the many people from the news vans that had gathered up and down the street. Flashing cameras almost blinded him and he covered his eye sockets with a scowl, and he had to resist the urge to flip them off as he spotted Undyne in the parking lot, being barely held back by Alphys. Undyne's fists were clenched tightly and her hair was a mess, but Sans lost interest in how she looked almost immediately after he realized who she had been shouting at.
"Oh. Oh, please tell me this is happening," Sans said gleefully as he stared at the very angry looking Gregory Mai. His shirt was stained and his pants were ripped, and he looked as if he had been drinking from the bloodshot eyes. He stood directly next to a sleek, shining black car with another man inside it behind the wheel in a tight black suit, wearing concealing sunglasses and what appeared to be an earpiece.
Round two, bitch.
"I gave you all fair warning!" he scowled at them as Sans approached in a seemingly calm manner with his hands in his pockets. "We don't have to go to court for this," Gregory spat at Sans with a foul look. "This can all be over if you just give me back my daughter ."
"I don't think THEY would be very happy with that," Sans clenched and unclenched his fists in his pockets. It was taking absolutely everything that he had not to break down in front of the human. He couldn't attack him with so many people watching. Or, maybe he could get away with it somehow. Claim that it was self defense or something. Either way, he wanted him dead, he wanted him worse than dead, and Sans was entertaining quite a few ideas on how to accomplish that. He wondered how much gore he could splatter those other humans with from this distance. "So why don't you just get back in your car and drive away, buddy?"
"You stay the hell away from Frisk!" Undyne bellowed, barely held back by Alphys as the scientist held the hem of her shirt nervously. "Get the hell out of our neighborhood, or I swear to god… !"
"You swear what ?" Gregory gave her a smug, self satisfied smirk that made Sans's bones itch on the inside. He gestured around at all of the reporters still talking amongst themselves and taking pictures. "Go ahead. Try it. See what happens ."
This man, this fucking coward was hiding behind all of those people, and he was taunting them while he was doing it. It made Sans's marrow boil, he wanted to stomp his face into the curb, he wanted to break his legs and drag him down a flight of stairs, he wanted justice
.
Sans almost didn't notice that magic was crackling furiously in his fist when he heard footsteps behind him.
"Sans?" Frisk clung with their jacket close around them, their hood up with the soft little velvety horns that Papyrus had sewn in flopping a little. "Is everything okay? I heard-"
Goddammit kid.
Frisk froze suddenly upon seeing Gregory, and the man's expression shifted suddenly. It went from surprise to confusion to pure, unfiltered anger in a matter of seconds.
"Is this a fucking joke ?" Gregory crossed his arms tightly, staring down at Frisk as they hid behind Sans, desperately clinging to his hand. "It's not enough you have to steal children, you have to brainwash her into thinking she's one of you freaks now?"
"EXCUSE ME?!" Undyne roared.
"U-Und-dyne, w-wait… !" Alphys was struggling to hold her back by the hand, and it was clear that Undyne was swiftly approaching a breaking point. Sans needed to get her to calm down, he did not need a fight breaking out on his front lawn no matter how badly he wanted this bastard dead.
"I swear to god," Sans said in a low rumble. "If you don't stop misgendering my kid, you are gonna have one hell of a bad time."
"Your kid?" Gregory shrieked, taking a step toward him. A spear flashed into Undyne's hand and he froze, looking back to the man in the car, who only nodded at him. Gregory smirked smugly at her and took another step toward Frisk and Sans, and Frisk was shaking terribly as they peeked out from behind him.
"Come here, Frisky," Gregory knelt down a little, holding out his hand with his palm up. Like he was holding a treat for a dog or something. It made Sans's bones burn how he was treating them. Gregory whistled a couple of times, snapping his fingers. Frisk twitched hard behind Sans, clinging tightly to his hand, their eyes wide and lips clamped tighlty shut. They actually took a step forward before freezing up completely, looking pale and ready to drop at a moment's notice.
"Come here, over here girl!"
"What did I fucking tell you," Sans growled deeply, causing the man to flinch and take a step back. "About misgendering my goddamned kid?"
"You're retarded if you think I'm going to let you turn my Frisky into some gay fucking tranny-" Gregory snapped at him. Gregory tried to speak further, but he didn't really get the chance.
Sans could smell pain and burning sulfur and judgment in the air, a huge black shadow cast over him as the humming growl of power seethed above him. Gregory's face paled significantly and he stumbled a couple of times to get backwards away from the floating skull. Sans glanced at it for a bare moment before it hit him.
He didn't summon it.
Sans let out a quick breath and let out a burst of magic, causing the blaster to disperse.
"I'll see you in court," Gregory said simply, probably much more quietly than he intended as he got back into the car. God how he hoped that prick had pissed his pants. Some of the reporters were sticking microphones into his face as the windows were rolled up and the black car pulled away. Sans watched them go the entire time, ignoring the number of reporters who were turning on him and the others as soon as Gregory left. Sans didn't care. He didn't even look at any of them as he led the shaking child back inside, swiftly followed by Alphys and Undyne.
He just wanted one day.
He just wanted one damned day to be happy.
And Sans silently swore to himself that he was going to make them happy as they cried and hugged him around the belly. He was going to give them a day. A whole day without anything bad, without them being sad. He was going to make things better.
And for that, maybe he had to… take care of Mister Mai.
He had at least one name.
He needed that man to go away for a while and get the rest out of him.
Sans didn't have to look in the dark corner of the room as he hugged Frisk closely to know that he was being watched. It was like he was always watching. Didn't he have anything better to do? He glanced up for a moment, but there was nobody there. Sans sighed quietly and picked up the crying child and held them softly as he kissed their forehead before carrying them over to the plush sofa.
"It's gonna be okay, kiddo," Sans said softly as they held his hand, silently shaking their head and trembling terribly. "It's gonna be alright."
"It's… it's crazy out there," Alphys stuttered as she readjusted her polka dotted dress, stepping beside the couch and holding out a hand for Frisk. Frisk slowly took her claw and held onto it
tightly like it was a lifeline, their breathing slowing a little as they squeezed their eyes. When they reopened them Sans knew for a fact that he saw a flash of red, but then they were back to chocolate brown like it had never happened. Undyne was pacing back and forth in front of the door, angrily muttering to herself. Alphys reached over for her and took her hand in both of her claws, and Undyne's expression softened for a moment before she placed a hand on the lizard's shoulder, giving her a watery smile.
"Anybody ever seen Bambi?" Sans held up the movie case that Blake had let them borrow. He was trying to sound as calm and collected as he could, even though he was absolutely screaming on the inside. "Sounds like a good movie. Musical about cute little woodland critters. Good time fer everyone. Sounds like the perfect thing for right now, right?"
"That-that sounds, um… good?" Alphys shifted her glasses. "I'll make popcorn!"
"Yeah. Sounds good," Undyne said distractedly, staring back at the door. It was clear that she was still bothered, her hands shaking tightly as she clenched her forearms, but Sans wanted to silently hint at just how badly he wanted to make Frisk feel better. He would give literally anything to see happiness in their eyes again. He just wanted to look them in the eyes and tell them that everything was going to be okay and actually believe it for once. He would give everything and anything, all that he possibly could, if only they could be happy again for just a while.
Sans had so many questions. He didn't want to walk out the front door and be mauled by reporters. He didn't want that life for Frisk. He just wanted them to be okay. How was he supposed to give them that when even he wasn't close to 'okay'? He glanced over at Undyne and Alphys who were sitting beside Frisk, with Undyne vowing to kick all kinds of butts if he ever came back. Sans sighed quietly, fingering his phone in his pocket. He knew that Papyrus wouldn't pick up. He just wanted to apologize. He wanted to make things right. He didn't want to let the worry, the fear prickling up his spine take control. He couldn't let that happen. But if something were to occur to Papyrus, if the worst came to pass, then… well.
He could always force a reset.
God, that thought made him hate himself more than he ever had in his entire life.
How was he supposed to choose between his kid and his brother? It wasn't right. It wasn't fair . He should have said something . He should have stopped Papyrus. He wanted to go back, to try again so badly, and his soul ached because he knew that no matter what he couldn't. He couldn't do that to Frisk. He couldn't let them get hurt. He had to protect them.
He had to fix this. He had to fix himself. He had to cut out the parts of him that were ruining their life, had to slice out the bits of him that were so heartless, so cruel, so unfeeling. Part of him had to die if he wanted to make Frisk's life better. He would do anything to see them happy again.
Even if that meant that there were sacrifices to be made in order to do it.
It had been several hours, and still there was no sign of Papyrus.
Sans couldn't pay attention to the movie, but he didn't really care all that much anyway. He had
Frisk curled up in his lap with their arms around his neck, not bothering to watch the movie either as they slipped in and out of consciousness. Sans envied them a little bit. He was so exhausted. He just wanted to rest for a while. Alphys and Undyne sat on the couch with them, and Alphys seemed totally enraptured with the animated film, though Undyne kept interrupting with questions like 'are you sure the mom is dead' and 'why don't the deer just use weapons'.
Sans found himself checking his phone over and over again. He had spent message after message to Papyrus to no avail, and with every single message he was growing more and more nervous. Papyrus never went this long without answering. Sans was trying his absolute best not to let his distress show, constantly checking and rechecking to see if Papyrus had called back. What if something had happened and he couldn't call back? His mind drifted back to the note that had been hurtled through the window, which only served to fuel his worry.
Frisk held onto him tightly in their sleep, and he sighed quietly. He was worrying for nothing. Papyrus was a big skeleton. He could take care of himself.
Maybe if he kept telling himself that he'd eventually start to believe it.
"… You okay man?" Undyne asked quietly after a while with her arm wrapped over Alphys's shoulder. "You look… not so good."
"Paps still isn't back yet," Sans said lowly so as not to wake Frisk. "I'm… I'm gonna start lookin' for him. Can-can you watch the kid for a bit?"
Alphys nodded silently and Undyne looked upset about something but eventually nodded as well.
"Thanks," Sans said with no small amount of relief. He shifted Frisk from his lap and they whimpered quietly in their sleep and tried to cling weakly to him, and his soul ached. He stroked their hair for a moment before slipping out and setting them carefully on the couch, where Frisk curled up in a little ball with their hands covering their flushed face. "Take… take care of 'em. Okay?"
"Dude, it's just babysitting," Undyne rolled her eye. "Chill out man. Your bro is probably just hanging out with Blake or something."
"Y-yeah," Sans shrugged, trying not to let them see just how badly he was upset, how much he was shaking. "I'm gonna… yeah."
Sans couldn't even form sentences properly he was so rattled, and he slipped out the front door without another word. There were a couple of raindrops falling here and there, and the king and queen would be over soon with their… brat . Sans scowled and tried to keep his breathing calm. He could just ask around and see if anyone had seen Papyrus's vibrantly colored car
Except that the car was still there. Papyrus hadn't driven anywhere. Sans felt the panic rising in his chest as he started down the sidewalk, nervously looking about at monsters gathering their children inside to protect them from the oncoming storm. He didn't even realize when he had started running and skidded to a stop a block away, completely out of breath as he screamed inside his own head.
There was no way that he was just going to catch up to Papyrus this late after he had stormed off. Because of him. Another wave of guilt washed through his exhaustion, and he clutched his chest wheezing as he tried to remain calm. He was being stupid. He was hoping against hope that he just might see Papyrus somewhere outside, that at any moment he would come turning around the corner with that friendly wave and smile and forgive his brother for being such a colossal idiot. Sans dug feverishly in his pockets for a moment before drawing out his phone. He stared at it for a
moment as a fat raindrop fell onto the screen, and he brushed it away with a finger bone and gave it a couple of clicks, sticking it to the side of his head, trying to keep his hands from shaking.
After the second ring it picked up, and Sans held his breath.
"What's up, Sans?" he heard Blake's tinny voice through the receiver. "Hey, me an' Richie were just making some breakfast - I can't believe I went my whole life without ever knowing that he was allergic to eggs, how nuts is that?"
"Have you seen Papyrus?" Sans tried to sound as casual as he could, but it was clear from his lack of so much as a greeting and the panic tinging his voice that he was on the edge as it was. Sans heard the clink of silverware on plates and it was silent for a moment before he heard shuffling.
"… Is everything okay?" Blake asked after a moment of silence.
"He went for-for a walk," Sans explained in a rush. "That was hours ago. He's not picking up his phone or answering any messages and I can't find him anywhere and I don't-"
"Sans. Sans ! Buddy," he heard Blake sigh, and he didn't even have to see him to know that he was pulling at his ear ring again. "Taketake it easy, man. Papyrus stopped by here a while ago." Sans could have cried with relief.
"Is he still there?" he was already taking off toward the part of Ebott City where Blake's apartment was. He didn't care if he had to run the entire way there, his mind felt addled at the moment.
"He's not here, he didn't stay long," Sans felt his soul drop into his stomach. "Wasn't looking too hot. Said he was gonna go talk to, uh… Grillby, I think?"
"I've gotta introduce you sometime," Sans ran a hand over his sweaty head, not realizing just how badly his legs were shaking. He wanted to sit down, he needed a drink, he needed something. He needed Papyrus back, he needed to make sure that his brother was okay. "T-thanks, man."
"Hey, no problem. You, uh… you sure you're alright?" Blake asked a little worriedly. "I mean, you need a lift or somethin'?"
"I'm good, man. I… know a shortcut."
The shortcut did not necessarily go as planned.
Sans fell forward eagerly almost as soon as he hung up, knowing exactly where to go to slip
through the void. And even though he was a skeleton he felt a biting, smothering chill that crept into his bones, making him rattle and shake. He could feel countless hands around him, squeezing him, crushing him, choking himAnd then it was over.
He stumbled and almost fell against the front door to Grillby's pub, gasping and clutching his chest. He had to shake it off, he had more important things on his mind. He had to collect himself, he didn't need to go letting his frustration get the better of him again. And he was angry, but he was more angry with himself than he was Papyrus. Maybe he was a little angry at Papyrus for not answering his phone. Actually, that was a lie and he knew it, he was fucking pissed but he steeled himself anyway, taking a few long, steady breaths. He point blank refused to blow up on Papyrus. His brother didn't deserve to be the subject of his ire, even if he was angry with him. So instead he drew himself up, put on his favorite plastic smile, and walked in through the front door.
Or at least, he tried to.
The door was locked.
There was a little sign that looked as if it had been hastily scribbled that read out for lunch.
Sans's smile faltered for a moment as he jiggled the handle in confusion. That just didn't add up. The warm lights were still on in the windows, so he must have been open. Sans felt the nervousness prickle up the base of his spine again and he had to fight it off, giving the door a few quick raps with his knuckles.
"Grillbz?" Sans asked loudly, hoping that the fire elemental would hear him. "Come on, man. What's goin' on? I'd really rather not have breakin' and enterin' on my record again," he tried to let it come off as a joke, but he was dead serious. He would take a shortcut directly into Grillby's if he had to, even though he was loathe to do something so… crude. It was always more polite to do
that outside. It was just a matter of respect, and Sans had a great deal of respect for his friend. However, he was swiftly forgetting that the longer that he stood outside in the light drizzle. He drew his hood up and shifted from foot to foot, banging on the door a few more times for good measure.
At long last after what felt like hours, the the polished wooden door clicked a few times and drew inward slightly, revealing a slightly ruffled looking emerald fire elemental.
"H-hello, Mister Sans," Fuku greeted him quielty, drawing the door open a little wider for him. "Are you here for your brother?"
"He is here, then?" Sans stuck his hands in his pockets, letting the rain bounce off of his hood and trying his best to remain calm. He had to keep himself from blurting questions.
"He's in the back with Dad," Fuku explained quietly, locking the door behind them.
"What happened?" Sans stepped quickly behind her as she drifted over the floor, an odd look in her eyes. "Where's Papyrus? What's going on? How-"
"Yeesh, one thing at a time," Fuku held up her hands defensively, holding open the door to the back for him. "I've got to get things ready for reopening, Dad will explain the… things. He'll explain," she said, clearly uncomfortable. Sans slipped in through the back door and followed the little linoleum hall until he found one of the furthest rooms with a flickering light emanating from the door that he would recognize anywhere. He could hear soft talking but couldn't quite make out what was being said. He was almost afraid to know, but he pushed himself onward regardless.
"Paps?" Sans asked quietly, poking his head in through the doorway to stare at Grillby and Papyrus. Grillby's sleeves were rolled up and his collar was open, and he looked very uncomfortable. He was so filled with relief that he could have dropped on the spot, but when he got a better look his grip on the door frame tightened so much that it nearly cracked it. Papyrus was sitting in a plush armchair with his one arm resting on his knees while Grillby applied an alcohol swab to a vicious looking cut leading downward from Papyrus's left eye socket and down his cheek, curving a little to the side. Sans felt like being sick. Seeing his brother injured was bad enough, but seeing him sitting there so quietly, so calmly while wearing an injury like that was almost enough to break him down completely.
"What in the fuck is goin' on?"
"Hello brother," Papyrus gave him a limp wave, slurring a little. His eye sockets were drooping a bit and the lights in his eyes were a little blurry. "It would appear that you caught up with me after all."
"What happened?" Sans was at his side in a bare moment, looking back and forth between his brother and the bartender. His trembling hand found its way to Papyrus's scar, and the taller skeleton flinched.
"I… didn't want to worry you," Papyrus said quietly.
"What the hell happened, P'yrus?" Sans was trying his best to remain calm. He had to stay calm, he couldn't afford to lose his cool. Not in front of his brother. Not in front of Grillby. But he was so completely on edge that he couldn't guarantee that any longer, someone had hurt his brother and god help the poor dumb bastard who did it.
"I was… on my way here," Papyrus began after a while, nodding thankfully to the bartender, who
drew away to stand fully. "I just… needed some space. Some time to think. A good drink maybe, someone to talk to. Grillby's is a very nice place for that. I mean, aside from the grease, but no disrespect meant to Grillby here."
Sans motioned for his brother to continue, trying to keep the slowly broiling rage down, but it was getting harder and harder with every passing moment. It was clear that Papyrus didn't particularly want to talk about it.
"Someone… outside the bar," Papyrus began uneasily, looking away from him and gently touching the mark on his cheek with his gloved fingertips. "Someone had a knife. Tried to hurt one of Grillby's patrons."
Sans felt the pit of his stomach drop out. He could have been holding a pile of dust right now, clinging to his scarf like it was all happening again. Sans felt light headed, he felt sick, god he needed a drink now more than ever. His hands were shaking and he had to stuff them into his pockets to keep them from seeing. He couldn't let them see, wouldn't let them see. He was going to rip and tear and dismember whoever he had to-
"Sans," Papyrus reached out for him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down."
He said it with such gentleness but a quiet firmness that Sans couldn't help but pause for a moment.
"Calm down," he gave a weak laugh, looking to Grillby for help. "Hehe wants me to freakin' calm down after you-you… you could'a been killed," Sans said desperately. "Oh god. Oh god P-Paps, I-I can't bbring your dust home, I can't s-see again, oh god, oh god… !"
"Sans," Papyrus's grip on his shoulder tightened a little, and Sans froze. "Breathe, brother. Everything is fine."
"Everything is not fine!" Sans was shouting at this point. "Where's the pathetic excuse for a carbon life form that did this to you, I'll fucking-!"
"I talked to him," Papyrus answered quietly, not removing his hand from his brother's shoulder.
"He was actually quite pliant afterwards," Grillby finally spoke. Sans blinked, he had almost forgotten that the bartender was even there.
"He… tried to harm someone," Papyrus explained softly. "I stopped him and he got a little swing in, that's all. I kept him contained until the authorities could arrive. He was… very scared. He didn't seem mean, or hateful, Sans. Just… scared. He thought that we were going to eat human children or something."
"What," Sans couldn't help but blink. "But-but… that's. That's dumb."
"I know, Sans," Papyrus gave him a flat look. "I sat down with him after disarming him, and we just… talked for a while. He was so afraid of us, Sans. Like we were dark creatures from beyond or something. Fear… does things to you. Makes it hard to think right. I don't believe that he had been thinking right for a long while. So Grillby and I explained some things to him, and-and he just…"
"Tried to kill you again?" Sans frowned.
"No. He just… cried. He said that he was very sorry for everything, and he just went with the police when they came. No fight or anything. I promised that I would come visit him sometime."
Sans couldn't even believe what he was hearing.
Of course it would be Papyrus to almost get killed and be the one to forgive his would be murderer. Papyrus really was one of a kind. Sans still felt sick to his stomach. He could still see the slash across his brother's chest, his dusty scarf lying in the snow. His legs were trembling and he leaned on the arm of the chair, closing his eye sockets for a few moments.
"… You should have picked up the phone," Sans grumbled after a minute.
"I know, brother," Papyrus said a little sadly. "I just… I didn't want you to worry. I know what you get like when you freak out."
"I wouldn't have freaked out," he denied it instantly, knowing full well that he absolutely would have. Papyrus only sighed and shook his head.
"… Thank you again, Grillby," Papyrus said softly, and the bartender silently nodded to him once.
"I… I should be thankin' you too," Sans added, although he was still a bit upset that Grillby hadn't called him about it. "Thanks for… patchin' up my bro. I-I appreciate it."
"Humans are not creatures to be feared by monsters," Grillby said after a moment, his voice a little coarse and low. "Just as monsters should not be feared by humans. I… hope that someday that fear will fade, that we can coexist together peacefully. You are a good person, Papyrus."
Papyrus's eye sockets shined a little and he beamed up at him, his thin barely healed scar shifting across his face as he did so.
"You're pretty cool too, Grillby," Papyrus smiled kindly. "I know this place is full of gross greasy food, but I might come back now and then."
"You are always welcome, friend," Grillby placed a fiery hand on his shoulder for a moment with a smile of his own. "By the way, Sans opened another tab."
"Is now really the time to bring that up?" Sans groaned, clapping a hand to his forehead.
"Just in case you decide to let this one grow as much as your last tab," Grillby said quietly, but he could tell from his tone that he wasn't being serious. "It always pays to have insurance, you know."
"Thanks, Grillby. I'm… I'm gonna take Paps home."
"I think that would be for the best."
Sans could feel eyes on him the entire way home.
It was slowly driving him mad.
He didn't quite have the energy for any more shortcuts, and after the last one he just felt… uneasy, for lack of a better word. He was getting paranoid for no reason. That had to be it. He wasn't really certain of how to describe the sensation that had happened to him when he last tried, but it put him on edge. Shortcuts normally didn't do that. But little trips through the void could mess with anyone if used long enough, he knew that for a fact. He walked with Papyrus through the light drizzle all the way home, both of them marching in utter silence. Sans tried to reach out to hold his hand once without really paying attention and Papyrus stretched out his arm for him before realizing that it was the one that had been magically cauterized, and he dropped his arm without a second thought and carried on. Sans could tell how badly he was bothered though from the expression on his face, and it hurt his chest to see Papyrus distraught. Sans made sure not to try something stupid like that again, sighing and forcibly shoving his fists in his pockets as they walked. Sans kept him close by the entire time, not letting the taller skeleton out of his sight even for a moment. Papyrus stumbled every now and then, but Sans was always there to catch him.
Humans on the street avoided them completely, and Sans could live with that. He saw a couple of people with umbrellas that didn't even give them a second glance, though he nervously threw a couple of glances back over his shoulder out of habit. He didn't like the feeling of being observed, even though none of the humans seemed to be so much as looking at them twice. There was just something… off, and it bothered him deeply. Sans stood on the front door to their house, relatively spent, and held the door open for his brother. Papyrus stood for a few moments to collect himself when he heard a little squeak of joy, and Frisk came bounding through the living room at top speed to wrap their arms around his legs.
"Papy, you came back!" Frisk hugged him tightly. Papyrus only sighed and smiled, kneeling down in the drizzle to give them a strong hug. "Where did you go? What-?"
Frisk froze when they saw the mark on his face, eyes going wide as they clapped their hands over their mouth. They stared at him in utter abject horror, little legs shaking as they stood frozen on the spot.
"There you are, Paps," Undyne stood from the couch, leaving Alphys
fiddling with her claws and looking pink for some reason. "What took you guys so… long…"
Undyne was staring hard at the cut on Papyrus's cheek, her expression going stony.
"Just went to go see a few friends," Papyrus answered quietly, giving a little shake of his head to indicate that he didn't want to bring it up. "Everything is fine."
"… Are you drunk?" Undyne asked lowly, crossing her arms.
"No," Papyrus shook his head again. "A little hungover, but not drunk. Um… maybe a bit tipsy. But-but I'm not drunk," he glanced back and forth nervously, standing as Frisk turned to Sans to hug him too, looking between them worriedly. "Swearsies. Hope I didn't miss all the fun while I was away."
"We w-were j-just watching s-some human f-films," Alphys looked much more relieved when
Undyne reseated herself beside the lizard, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. Frisk was looking pleadingly back and forth between the skeletons, but Sans only subtly shook his head. If Papyrus didn't want to talk about it, then Sans wasn't going to talk about it. Plain and simple. "You g-guys were g-gone f-for a while…"
"Just had a stop at Grillby's is all," Sans shrugged quietly. "Come on, Paps. You look terrible. You should get some rest."
"As much as I would like to argue that," Papyrus said tiredly, petting the worried looking Frisk on the head. "I think you might be right, brother. I'm… going to rest for a bit."
"Take all the time you need, Paps," Sans said quietly. "I just… I'm… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"
"Don't worry about it, brother," Papyrus nodded softly to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I forgive you. I'm-I'm going to recharge for a bit. Don't burn the house down while I'm asleep?"
"No promises," Sans grinned up at him. Papyrus only smiled and sighed and silently ascended the stairs, closing his bedroom door behind him. It took Sans a moment to realize that Frisk was drawing him toward the couch, and he gave in and let them pull him over. Sans collapsed onto the end of the couch and Frisk promptly crawled up into his lap, pulling his open jacket around them and snuggling against him warmly. They pulled up their legs and curled into the smallest ball that they could to hide inside his jacket, and Sans felt a hint of worry. They were so small that it was hard to really grasp how they had possibly caused so much… pain in the Underground. But he wouldn't allow himself to think of that. He didn't want to think at all right now. Sans couldn't help but smile a little as he stroked their hair, closing his eye sockets for a moment and just letting contentment wash over him. He heard a squeak and cracked an eye socket open to glance at Alphys, who was grinning and bouncing a little beside Undyne.
"… What?" Sans stared at her fully.
"Nothing," she had a hard time hiding her smile. "It's just… oh my god. That's so cute."
"It's not cute," Sans felt a heat in his cheeks as Frisk clung to him. "Quit sayin' that."
"No, I'm with Alphys on this one," Undyne smirked at him. "That's pretty damned cute."
"I've got a cute kid," Sans shrugged and zipped up his jacket, listening to the steady rain beat on the windows. "Always knew there was a kid in me."
"That was terrible," Alphys rolled her eyes, picking up the remote. "Have you seen any of the h-human anime since coming up to the surface?"
"I've had a couple of other things on my mind besides anime," Sans shrugged, looking down at Frisk, who was almost purring as they held him. He gave them a gentle squeeze, kicking his feet up and sighing. He could stay like this for a while. He could just be… happy. Or at the very least, pretend to be.
Sans didn't know for how long they sat like that, just occasionally glancing over at the television that Alphys seemed to enraptured with (why would they name an anime after cleaning supplies?) But he didn't care about that, either. He could just stay with his little babybones. He felt a warmth in his chest that he wasn't entirely certain whether or not it was caused by Frisk being so close to him.
They were fast asleep before long, nuzzling against his chest with a little pleased smile on their face.
He was just so… calm. And it scared him, just a little. Because he knew deep down that it wasn't worth hanging on to, that at any moment it could all be ripped away and he would wake up in Snowdin with his head in his hands, staring out from his sentry station as he watched the snow fall. He was so damned afraid of losing them, of losing all of this, knowing that at any time it could all be torn from beneath his feet. His hands were shaking a little and he had a powerful urge to step outside for a smoke, but he didn't want to wake Frisk. After a while he shifted, but Frisk didn't seem to notice. He moved again to test the waters and they blinked sleepily at him before giving him a soft little smile and craning their neck up to kiss him on the cheek, and he beamed down at them. He just wanted to stay like this for a while. To just let it all drift away.
But no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he could still see that jagged line across his brother's face. The invisible wound across his chest, his dusty scarf lying in the snow.
It took all he had to keep from shaking, and even that was a tall order. Sans took a few long, slow breaths, trying to remain calm. He had to stay calm. He had company over, and more on the way soon, he did not need to lose his cool now. He had managed to do so well for Papyrus, he just had to keep up the act a little bit longer and then the day would be over and he could just crash in bed and try to pretend that none of it bothered him until he started the next day. Was that all his life was anymore? Just one excuse after another to keep from thinking until he could rest again? He was tired. His bones were beginning to rattle from the stress no matter how hard he tried to keep still.
"… Alright, so," Undyne said eventually, glancing up the stairs. "I think he's probably out by now. You wanna tell me what the hell happened?"
"Not… really…?" Sans shrugged with a weak grin, but faltered from her intense glare. Alphys looked back and forth between them uncomfortably. He really wished that Undyne had waited until Frisk was actually asleep and not just poking their head out of his jacket. He eventually sighed and shrugged, unable to get Frisk back to sleep now that their attention had been caught. They peeked up at him curiously before sending a worried look towards Papyrus's bedroom door upstairs.
"Paps, uh…" Sans started uneasily, not wanting to say too much in front of Frisk and worry them. "Stopped a fight. You know him, he's not happy unless he's the hero of the story."
"Sounds about like Papyrus," Undyne said with a slight frown. She started to ask more, but stopped when Alphys squeezed her hand. Sans was fighting his every nerve trying not to let Frisk see just how badly he was shaken. He had to stay calm. He needed to stay calm.
"I'm… well, I guess we're gonna step out for a sec," Sans stood slowly as Frisk clung to him around the neck, pulling their legs up a little to rest inside his jacket without falling. He kept a hand on them regardless, sticking his other hand into his pocket.
"What?" Undyne peered over at him over Alphys's head, clearly distracted. "Yeah. Sounds good."
Alphys only nodded couple of times and leaned forward, still holding onto Undyne's hand as a pivotal part in the anime played. The king and queen would be over soon, and Sans really wasn't up to dealing with their mockery of a child at the moment. He didn't need to go getting angry right now. He still had a bone to pick with that little shit for stealing a chunk of Frisk's soul, it could have killed them. He couldn't afford to lose his cool. He just needed a moment to breathe first. He stepped through the kitchen and out the back door, letting it quietly swing shut behind him as they stood on the back porch overlooking the now soaked back yard, watching the light rainfall. Sans simply stood there for a while trying to clear his thoughts. It was so surreal to think that they really were on the surface where the weather changed so frequently, instead of just snowing all the time. He felt enclosed in the spot regardless as they watched it rain, so isolated that it felt like he was watching the world through a little bubble. Frisk twisted and turned in his jacket awkwardly, pulling their legs up a little further so that they could simply sit in the space in his jacket with only their head poking out, little fingers clasped around the neck. Sans rested his chin on their head and leaned against the railing, fishing around in his pockets.
"… Sans?" Frisk asked softly as he dug in his pocket.
"Yeah, kiddo."
"Please don't treat me like I'm dumb. Papyrus got into a fight, didn't he?"
Sans froze.
He let out an awkward breath before ruffling their hair, frowning as he pulled out a dog biscuit in shaking hands.
"… Yeah. I'm… I'm sorry, kiddo. I don't want you under the impression that I think you're dumb or somethin'. I just… didn't want you to worry," he finished lamely, feeling supremely hypocritical. Sans sighed and shook his head, leaning hard on the railing and letting Frisk grab onto him to keep from slipping as he lit the dog biscuit. He stared out at the dancing yellow flowers growing up in wild bunches in the back yard, dancing and swaying gently in the rain. He was half tempted to swing them around a little bit, but decided against it. They already looked a bit upset, he didn't need to go making it worse by accidentally bumping them into a wooden pole or something. Sans took a deep drag and blew out a smoke ring through his nostril bone, a slight tingling of satisfaction filling him. He felt Frisk poking him in the chest and he glanced down at them.
"Tryin' to tickle my funny bone?" Sans blinked as Frisk stared at him expectantly. "Or were you expectin' something else?"
"Sans, come on…" they pouted, sticking out their bottom lip, their hair falling a little over their eyes. Dear god they looked cute bundled up in his jacket like that.
"Hey, didn't mean ta rib ya the wrong way," he grinned down at them, puffing out his chest a little and causing them to wriggle a little, but he could see their small smile regardless. "Careful not to sit on a whoopie cushion while you're in there, people will think I need open fart surgery or something."
Frisk giggled and grasped his ribs, causing him to freeze up completely. He nearly crushed the biscuit in his hand, other hand firmly on the railing as the lights dimmed in his eye sockets.
"… Guess you're waitin' on me, huh," Sans waved the biscuit over the opening in his jacket, trying to remain calm. He was too hot, far too sweaty, too uncomfortable and god why couldn't they just let go…?
At last, and long last they finally released his ribs through his shirt and he let out a shaky sigh of relief. Instead of poking their head out through the jacket, however, Frisk only pulled the dog biscuit into the jacket with them. He heard a muffled coughing as they ducked their head, huffing and choking quietly. Sans shook himself a little and insisted that they hand it back, trying not to reveal just how irritated he was that they had tried that.
"Always said I needed a smoking jacket," Sans attempted to make light of the situation. "But that wasn't quite what I meant."
"S-sorry…" Frisk sputtered out smoke, poking their head out for air. "Needed it."
"I think you an' me need to quit smokin' these. Y'know?" And by that he meant that Frisk needed to stop smoking them. Sans took another deep drag of the biscuit. He really was the worst kind of hypocrite.
"Do we have to?" Frisk whined softly. "They make me feel better."
"I know, babybones. I just… damn. Doesn't… doesn't feel right."
"I don't feel right either…" they frowned, rubbing their stomach and curling up against him. "My belly still hurts."
Again?
"Right-right now?" Sans asked uncomfortably. Frisk nodded a couple of times, looking up at him with slightly reddened eyes.
"Sans…?" Frisk ever so gently glided their hands over his ribs, making him shiver up and down his spine. The trepidation alone was almost too heavy to carry. "Please… I'll… I'll be good. It's been so long, I just… please stop making me wait for it, it hurts…"
"On a scale of one to ten…?" Sans dropped the biscuit by accident into a puddle, using both hands to grasp onto the porch railing. He had to stay calm. Stay calm. That was all that he had to do. Just stay calm and this would resolve itself. He could do what he loved doing best, absolutely nothing. And he had to do just that, absolutely nothing, he could just ignore his mind and shut down completely and then he would wake up in Snowdin and oh god they really should not be touching his ribs like that.
The dog biscuit wasn't doing much to calm his nerves, and he was trembling as he held onto the porch. His left leg was shaking a little and his teeth were clenched tightly as they ran their thumbs gently over his ribs, dragging the tips of their fingers over his chest slowly in little motions. Sans forcibly blinked and looked down at them in his his jacket and saw an odd expression on their face that he couldn't quite place. Were… were they messing with him? Did they even know what they were doing to him?
Did they even comprehend of what could happen if…
Sans let out a breath that he didn't know that he had been holding, and it came out shaky and fast.
"K-kiddo," he tried to speak, but his voice didn't seem to want to obey him. His face was heated and he didn't want them to see, but he had nowhere to turn. He was not sober enough for this. He wasn't sober enough for today. "Kid. You n-need t-to stop that."
"Please, Sansy…" Frisk whispered just loudly enough for him to hear, nuzzling their head against him as they continued to rub with their fingers. They were ignoring him, toying with him, they had to be. "J-just a little… I'll-I'll be good, I j-just need it… just-just a little…?"
Sans hated himself. He hated having the thoughts that he did. He hated the feeling of the cool air on his hot cheeks, he hated the dark corners of his mind that he was being slowly dragged to, but most of all, he hated himself. He hated himself so much.
"A-alright," he caved in, feeling his willpower slowly crumble the longer that they massaged his ribs. "Just… just stop . P-please, kid."
"I can have it…?" Frisk perked up significantly, their eyes widening a little in anticipation.
"Later," he stuttered, shaking his head fiercely. "Just… just, f-f-fuck," Sans had difficulty catching his breath. "Just stop. Stop, r-right now," he tried to say with a commanding voice, and it came out much quieter than intended.
"Not later…" Frisk continued brushing their fingers over his ribs, gazing up at him with such a look that it made his soul ache. He didn't want to see that kind of look on them. Not them. Never them. "I need it now, Sans… it hurts. Please, make… make it feel better…?" They had to be doing this on purpose. It was the only logical explanation that readily came to mind. They were doing this out of some kind of sick revenge, it was punishment for his countless sins and they were fucking with him. The manipulative little shit was fucking with him. His head began pounding furiously over one eye socket, the centers of his palms felt so weirdly itchy but he had to stay focused. They didn't care, they never really did, this was all just punishment, they were using him to get what they wanted all over again.
Sans felt a boiling rage bubble up in the pit of his stomach and he had to fight to keep it down, closing his eye sockets and plunging into his jacket to grab their wrists. Frisk gasped aloud as green magic flooded down his arms, he was shaking so hard, he couldn't think straight, he couldn't focus. Green magic needed healing positivity, nurturing, gentleness and love, and Sans was absolutely none of those things at the moment. He was feeling manipulated, he was tempted, he was angry, he was vengeful.
Heal.
Hurt.
Fix.
Twist.
Repair.
Break.
Pure.
Foul.
Forgive.
Revenge.
Love.
H-
No choice.
No choice but to love.
So it shouldn't have come to much of a surprise when Frisk reacted the way that they did to his magic, jerking and flailing and shuddering sporadically inside his jacket, squeezing their eyes shut and clamping down hard on his ribs. Sans rocked suddenly and had to hold onto the porch railing again to keep from falling, he knew that he had fucked up badly, now it was just a matter of discovering how badly. Frisk had gone completely silent and held their hands over their face, shaking even harder than he was. Sans felt his anger slowly ebb away with his spent energy, kneeling slowly down to his knees to prop up Frisk. He ever so gently unzipped his jacket and pulled them out, but they didn't take their hands from their face. He held them in his lap and rocked slowly back and forth, worry and fear steadily gnawing up through his aggravation and self loathing of his own rash impulses.
Way to go, captain dumbass.
"… Kid?" Sans asked softly. Frisk did not reply. Sans shook them carefully, nervousness overwhelming his logical thought process. He pulled their hands away from their face and though they tried to resist they were much weaker than him, and he almost fell over from seeing the expression that they wore. It was one of pure, unfiltered euphoria, eye's rolled back into their head as they silently panted, cheeks flushed as they shook. They were grinding and thrusting their hips at nothing, mumbling incoherently and drooling, and Sans felt as if he had been punched in the head from the shock.
"D-da. Da da, duh mmmnh, duh daaa~ah."
You fucked up.
I fucked up.
Oh god I fucked up, I fucked up… !
"Frisk?" Sans held them tightly. He hadn't just fucked up, he might have broken them. He did the exact opposite of what Grillby told him a good parent should do, he had acted out of frustration and anger and this was where it had gotten him; for all he knew he could have driven Frisk incurably mad, if he hadn't done that already. He was going to be sick, what was wrong with him? "F-Frisky-bits," he felt like being ill on the spot, what the hell had he just done? "Frisk! Aanswer me, oh god, oh god I'm sorry, I'm so fuckin' sorry, I'm sorry…
!"
"Hnng. S-Sans…?" Frisk murmured after a while, blinking woozily.
"Baby," Sans could have cried he was shaking so badly as he rocked them back and forth. "Oh god. Oh Christ babybones, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"
Sans paused only for a moment when Frisk held a trembling finger up over his teeth to silence him. They were smiling softly and their eyes were half lidded, and they were still trembling deeply, but they still held his face in their hand. They just looked so… content. So happy. Like he had given them the entire world when in reality all he was doing was tearing them both apart from the inside out. But he would know all about tearing people apart from the inside out, wouldn't he? He felt like living bile. And what was even more sick than that, what deeply disturbed him the most, wasn't just the fact that Frisk looked as if they were utterly euphoric. It was that a little part of him was proud that he could make them look at him like that, and god he was fucking vile . He was falling into a downward spiral, caving in a little more with each day. He vaguely wondered how long it would take to dust him at this rate.
"Thank… you…" Frisk croaked, nuzzling downward into his lap and smiling up at him. "Oh gosh. Oh my gosh, that-that was… wow. That was weird . I-I never f-felt anything like that before…"
"How-how d'you feel?" Sans had a hard time speaking.
"Good," Frisk shivered in delight, their lips twitching upward a little as they spasmed again. "G-good. Good, s-so… s'good."
"This is fucked," Sans ran a hand over his sweaty head. "Wow. Thisthis is straight fucked."
"Sans?"
"Hell," he rocked back and forth slowly. "Goin' to hell . Pack m' bags, takin' a one way trip, goin' straight to hell. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. Goin' to hell."
"Sans," Frisk sat up in his lap, gently holding his shaking head up in their hands, but the lights had completely gone out of his eye sockets. "Sans? S-Sans! Sans, w-wake up!"
"I'm sorry," he choked as they hugged him gently, his arms limp at his sides. He couldn't even pretend to keep it together anymore. "Oh shit. Oh shit I'm so, so sorry . I shouldn't have d-done that, oh god, oh god please forgive me babybones-"
Sans couldn't bring himself to speak again. He couldn't bring himself to sit up straight, relying entirely on Frisk to hold up his drained body. He couldn't bring himself to look them in the eyes. He really was the absolute worst possible thing for this poor kid. Could he even call them his kid anymore with what he was doing to them? All he could do was bring ruin. He could feel the darkness encroaching on his mind, his foul thoughts creeping in and settling comfortably over his mind like they had been there all along, and it felt like an invisible pair of hands were slowly choking the life out of him. It took him a long while to realize that the hands around his neck belonged to Frisk, their soft murmuring and petting of him ever so slowly bringing him back to much needed reality. He almost didn't catch it, but he knew the feeling. Like he was gradually losing track of what was happening around him and what was going on in his head. The feeling of ever so slightly beginning to go completely mad.
"Frisk?" he mumbled eventually, and the sheer relief that flooded their face made his chest hurt.
Frisk hugged him tightly, not caring about the rain splattering both of them that blew in on the porch. They crawled into his lap at some point and were holding his head. When had that happened? His head felt fuzzy. And that wretched pain over his eye socket was almost blinding.
"Are you okay?" Frisk asked gently, the worry plain on their face. "Please, please be okay, oh gosh, please, I'm sorry, I'll be good, just please be okay… !"
"E-easy, babybones," Sans was trembling furiously, wishing that he had about a few dozen more dog biscuits to go through. "I'm… I'm okay."
"You were s-saying stuff," Frisk stroked his head gently, holding him close.
"What?"
"S-stuff about talking hands," they shifted nervously atop him. "You're hot, I-I don't…"
Frisk blinked and their already red cheeks flushed a little more.
"… Something's… poking me."
"That's a hot dog," he said instantly. He had to stay in the now. Frisk was his anchor. They kept him to reality. They might be the only thing at this point keeping him nailed down to earth.
"… I'll eat it for you if you put ketchup on it."
"We're going back inside, and you're grounded." Sans said without even pausing for breath, his face aflame. "Now."
"My legs feel k-kinda squishy," Frisk mumbled, and he tried to help them stand. They shook and nearly fell again, and he gave up on that notion and swiftly picked them up in his arms, carrying them bridal style. Frisk let out a quiet squeak and clung around his neck, and he stared at them for a moment.
"This isn't happening again," Sans said without much conviction. "Fucking. Ever . C'mon, kid. Let's… let's go get you dried off."
Sans could feel eyes on him the entire time.
Funny to think that just previously that day he thought that alone was slowly driving him mad.